To answer Brie's question about birth control, the pill becomes effective seven days after you start taking it, and in Chapter 1 it's established that the Big Dance is three weeks away, so no problem there. Of course you should NEVER take anyone else's prescription for birth control pills or anything else. Don't try this at home!

By the way, Brie, I especially love your new word: Gordoness. And I hope everyone is enjoying the Gordoness in this story!

-

-

8:23 p.m.

Mary Kate was calling Gordo on his cell phone. Or was it Ashley? Which one had dyed her hair a darker color? But she hadn't dyed her hair that dark, had she? Was it really an Olsen Twin calling him on the phone? Or maybe it was another dark-haired girl…

No. It wasn't a dark-haired girl. It was a blonde. And it wasn't a dream. It was Lizzie, ringing his house phone, and the moment he rose up out of his dream and groggily picked up the receiver he could hear her frantically exclaiming, "Gordo! Gordo! What the hell are you doing still home? You should be here by now! We told Miranda we'd pick her up at 8:30 and we still have to get Charlie first! Gordo, what are you doing?"

Gordo took a deep breath, his mind trying to catch up. "Lizzie…?"

"Get in your car and get over here!" Lizzie exclaimed. "I don't want to be the first one at the beach, but I certainly don't want to be the last one, either!"

Gordo sighed. "Okay," was all he said.

Five minutes later, in a fresh tee shirt and jeans, Gordo was in his driveway, slipping into the front seat of his Pontiac GTO.

Well, technically, it was not his GTO. It was Dad's old car, but as long as Gordo agreed to keep up the maintenance and the insurance, it was as good as his. Maintenance was not a problem, but the insurance was killing him! Even with his "Good Student Discount" most of Gordo's Starbucks' paycheck went towards car insurance.

He loved the car, and the independence it afforded him. Though Lizzie probably loved it more. And why shouldn't she? She got to drive all around town in this really cool car and never had to worry about the expense, or the responsibility of always being the "Designated Driver." Not that Gordo minded being the Designated Driver.

As he pulled up in front of Lizzie's house now, and saw her running to meet him at the curb, he felt his stomach tighten, dreading the all too familiar "Designated Driver" argument. Lizzie got in the car and Gordo thought, Here we go again…

"Hey!" Lizzie said. "Where were you?"

"I fell asleep," Gordo said simply.

"A little nap? Good! Then you should feel wide awake and ready for tonight."

"I'm ready," Gordo said, already feeling the conversation begin to take a turn.

"Great!" Lizzie agreed. "Then you'll be in the spirit?"

Gordo sighed. "In the spirit for what?"

"You know…In the spirit…for spirits…"

"If you're asking if I intend to get drunk with you, Lizzie, once again the answer is no."

Now Lizzie sighed. "Gordo! I'm not asking you to get drunk. I'm just asking you to have a drink. Or two. You could have a couple of beers and not get drunk. And by the time we leave, you should be okay to drive. I don't want to hear that "Designated Driver' speech from you again."

"Lizzie! Why is it so important to you that I drink?"

"Sweetie," she said, "it's just that I want to see you enjoy yourself. You know, sometimes you're a little uptight. So much…tension. A drink or two would do you good."

Gordo shrugged.

"And besides…" Lizzie added carefully. "I think it would also do you good with the other guys…"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I've hears some talk. Some of the guys think you're…you're…"

"I'm what?" Gordo asked

"They think you're stuck up," Lizzie spit out. "Because you won't drink with them. They think that you must think you're better than them."

Gordo shook his head with a sarcastic sigh. "Oh yeah," he said. "That's it exactly."

"Gordo!" Lizzie exclaimed. "I don't think you realize how you come off to people sometimes!"

Gordo felt himself getting drawn into the same argument once again. This was getting old. He bit his lip, determined not to take the bait.

"Listen," Lizzie said gently, after a moment. "I understand about your Uncle Bobby. About the accident. I can appreciate all that completely. But just because it happened to him doesn't mean it's going to happen to you too. Gordo. You can't stop living just because…because of something that happened…."

"I haven't stopped living. I've just made a conscious decision not to drink. And what is so wrong with that?"

"Nothing! But…but…"

All at once, Gordo felt himself aggrevated beyond anything he had yet felt. "Look, Lizzie. This is it. This is me, this is the way I am. I make up my own mind, I do what I want to do. You've always known that about me, since we were kids. If you don't like it anymore, nobody says you have to stick around. We're not married, you know. "

"Gordo!" Lizzie cried. "What are you saying?"

Gordo took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'm saying…I'm saying, Get off my back, Lizzie! I've had just about as much as I can stand. I feel like I'm ready to crack, and on top of all my own problems, I don't need to deal with any shit from you!"

Lizzie glared at him, then huffed, then sat back with her arms crossed over her chest. Gordo drove, his hands clenched on the steering wheel, looking straight ahead at the road.

They had been through this kind of thing so many times in the last few months that at this point Gordo did not even care what Lizzie was thinking. In fact, he acutely felt how much he did not care about Lizzie at all in this moment, and that made him feel awful. He was not a good boyfriend. Not anymore. He needed to let her go. For both their sakes.

"Lizzie…" he began quietly.

"No, no, no," Lizzie said. "Not now. Not tonight."

"But you don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"I don't care what you're going to say, Gordo! Whatever it is, it's going to have to wait, because tonight is a party, and I intend to party, and I don't want to think about anything serious or talk about anything serious. I just want to have fun, okay? Can you deal with that, Gordo? Even if you don't want to have fun, I do! So get off my back, okay?"

Gordo blew out a deep breath. They drove in silence, and in his mind, he ran over the conversation in his mind. He felt awful about Lizzie, but more than that, he felt awful about himself. He wasn't who he used to be. Just now he had said, "I make up my own mind, I do what I want to do." Well, once upon a time that might have been true, that was the image he still had of himself, but was it in fact an accurate description of the young man he had turned out to be? Lately, he didn't actually do a whole lot of what he wanted to do. He realized that he spent the greater part of his days doing what everybody else wanted him to do. He barely even knew his own mind anymore.

Crap! He hated who he had become.

-

8:47 p.m.

And now they were pulling up in front of Charlie's house. Lizzie looked at Gordo sharply and said, "This conversation stops here. Oh, look! Charlie's coming, and Miranda's with him! We may not be too late after all!"

Charlie and Miranda ran down to the car and jumped into the back seat. Miranda reached into the front seat to muss up Gordo's hair with a special greeting of "Hey, Shaggy!" When greetings were exchanged all around, Charlie pat Gordo on the back and said, "Dude! I'm reminding you to remind Jimmy to go into work for you."

"Hey, thanks, but I already did. The shift's already half over."

"Hey, I tried."

"That's right!" Miranda exclaimed, leaning forward into the front seat. "We usually never see you on Friday, Gordo! Work, work, work!"

"Well…yeah," Gordo admitted. "It's good to have some time off."

"To go out and have some fun," Lizzie added, meaningfully.

"So how is the old job, anyway?" Miranda wondered.

"It's all right," Gordo said. He really didn't want to talk about it, but Miranda kept asking specific questions, and he didn't want to disappoint her. The more he talked, the more he realized he sounded like he was complaining, but he couldn't stop himself. There were so many issues about his job: who was slacking, who was stealing from the register, who was sleeping with the boss.

"What a soap opera!" Miranda exclaimed. "How do you stand it?"

"It sounds like a royal pain in the ass," Charlie commented. "You should quit."

"Yeah, right," Gordo scoffed.

"No, really," Lizzie agreed. "You should quit, Gordo. Then I would get to see you a whole lot more, sweetie."

Gordo scoffed again. "You'd get to see me, but we wouldn't be able to do a whole lot. No job equals no car, sweetie, and no car equals no beach party tonight. It also equals no movies, no mall, no anything else. Unless one of you would want to take a turn at car ownership and volunteer to pick up the slack."

Now Gordo was certain he was complaining, and the fact that everybody suddenly got extremely quiet made him feel terrible. He didn't mean for his words to come out like that, so harsh, so accusing. He tried to think of a way to soften what he had just said, but Miranda beat him to it, by softly suggesting, "Well, then, Gordo, I guess we would just have to stay home all the time and watch Olsen Twins movies."

Gordo was surprised to actually find himself laughing. He hadn't felt good since he got into the car, but Miranda had a way of actually being able to make him laugh, even when he felt his worst.

But Lizzie and Charlie both said, at the same time, "No way!"

"Yes, way!" Miranda insisted, and launched into a defense of her Guilty Pleasure, thus, gratefully, taking the pressure off Gordo.

If only momentarily.

-

10:00 p.m.

A huge bonfire lit up a circle of teenagers, almost all of them holding red plastic cups filled with beer that was secretly being dispensed from the back of Todd Kaplan's van. Todd's twenty one year old brother Kip had bought several cases of beer with five dollar bills collected from all those present.

Gordo threw in his money, even though he had no intention of drinking. Most of all, he was anxious to avoid any further confrontation with Lizzie on this drinking issue. He was now one of the teenagers standing around the bonfire with a red plastic cup.

Every now and then he turned away from the group and swished a little beer around in his mouth, then spit it out on the ground when he thought nobody was looking. He also "accidentally" spilled some beer on his tee shirt, so he would be sure to smell "acceptable" to anyone who might get close to him.

Lizzie hung on him, fully convinced that he had taken her advice. "See?" she whispered in his ear. "It's not so bad, is it?"

"Not so bad," he agreed, thinking What's wrong with this picture?

The later it got, the more he kept thinking, What's wrong with this picture? This happened to him every time he went to one of Lizzie's parties. As possibly the only sober person present, Gordo enjoyed a unique perspective. Though "enjoyed" might not be the best word to describe it. As the night wore on, and the crowd got rowdier, Gordo felt himself withdrawing, growing increasingly quiet.

Lizzie, however, as she got more and more drunk, did not seem to notice or care how Gordo was feeling or acting. She was all over him, hanging on him, kissing him, touching him, begging him to take her to Make Out Cove on the other side of the rocks, where all the couples were disappearing.

Gordo gently pried Lizzie off him, saying he had to go to the bathroom. He set her down on the sand with Heather and Mark, and walked away, once again able to breath again.

The nearby bathroom building was intensely bright, dirty and smelly. Gordo wished he was the kind of guy who wouldn't mind pissing in the bushes. If he was, he wouldn't have to listen to Phil Tucker in the third stall, barfing his brains out. Pissing in the bushes would certainly be a lot less unpleasant than this.

-

11:30 p.m.

When he got back out on the sand, he walked around for a while, his hands in his pockets. He did the best he could to avoid running into Lizzie, and soon found himself closer to Make Out Cove than he ever intended to get. With a tight feeling in his chest, he noticed that one of the couples heading towards the privacy on the other side of the rocks was Charlie and Miranda. He hung back a little, watching them.

Charlie appeared intent on moving forward, but Miranda slowed him down. They stopped and kissed. Gordo stepped into the shadows, feeling his heart beating fast. He couldn't help but remember his conversation with Charlie this afternoon, and he wondered with trepidation if his friend had moved up his plans for Miranda to this very night.

Gordo was suddenly glad he had remained sober. He did indeed trust Miranda's ability to take care of herself, but if she was even half as wasted as Lizzie, her sense of reason might be too impaired to make a good decision. The decision Gordo had to make now was exactly what he should do if Charlie tried anything. He knew this was none of his business, but he also knew he couldn't stand by and let Miranda be taken advantage of.

For a few extremely intense moments, Gordo stared at the two of them in each other's arms, kissing. Then he saw Charlie's hands begin to travel all over Miranda's body, and Gordo held his breath, wondering how far this would go. The suspense was unbearable.

Gordo watched Miranda closely, looking for her next move. Would she touch him back, encourage him…or push him away? Were they going to continue to the other side of the rocks? Gordo felt he was about to explode.

As bad as this day had been, it now stood still. Oh, man…Miranda…

And then, at last, Gordo felt himself breath again. Miranda's hand slowly came up over Charlie's, grabbed his wrist…and pulled it down. Charlie's hand came up again, and Miranda pulled it down again. This went on several times, and each time Miranda's response was more intensely than the last. Finally Miranda pulled fully away, but Charlie pulled her back. She pushed off his chest, and he pulled her back.

"Charlie…"

"Oh, come on…Miranda…"

"No….I told you before. No."

"Miranda…."

"That's it!" Miranda exclaimed, pushing him against the rocks and stalking off.

Gordo breathed out a mighty sigh of relief as Miranda passed in front of him. She did not see him, and disappeared into the night. Charlie took off in the opposite direction, muttering a few expletives.

Gordo leaned back and smiled. Good old Miranda. His trust in her had not been in vain. As bad as this day had been, he felt something had finally gone right.

And in the very next moment, the unraveling began.