A/N: *cough* Remember this story? Yeah, I barely did, too. Well, I got a sudden burst of inspiration, so I'm going to write for it!
"Why does every magazine have some cheesy romance quiz in the back?" Miranda asked, setting another magazine down on their table at the Digital Bean. She sighed. "These things don't work half the time, anyway. I would know."
Lizzie forced a smile. Matt hadn't made her take her anti-depressant this morning, since it can't be mixed with alcohol, and there was bound to be some still in her bloodstream.
"I took a few of those. Back when I was with Gordo. Our score came out perfectly every time," Lizzie commented absently, flipping through her copy of People.
Miranda scoffed. Lizzie put down the magazine.
Lizzie said, "You've seemed a little on edge the past few days. What's going on?"
"I finally broke up with Keith two days ago," Miranda blurted. "I hadn't seen him since graduation, simply because he was always 'busy.'"
Lizzie nodded. "I remember."
"Well, two days ago, I went to his house to surprise him, and I walked in on him in bed with another girl. Some bleach-blonde slut with fake boobs. So I dumped him right then and there."
"Good for you!"
"But I've been wondering…how long did this go on? And what do I do with all this freedom, now?"
"You'll probably never know how long it went on." Lizzie frowned. "And when I got 'freedom' you wanted to take me out clubbing."
"Yeah, well, I didn't realize you would bounce back so slowly."
"Right," Lizzie blushed. "So, you want to go check out that club?"
"No. Not tonight. I'm sure you've still got a pretty wicked headache."
Lizzie nodded. "Yeah, I do."
"Wanna just head to your place then? Watch a movie?"
"Sure."
"Mom, Dad? I need to talk to you," Gordo said, sitting down across from them at the table.
"Sure, son. What is it?" Howard asked, blue eyes full of curiosity.
"I'm thinking about my college arrangement. It's almost September. I really…have nothing I want to go back to New York for. I was thinking I would wait a year and then go to UCLA instead. If I could live with you for a while, of course."
"Oh, David! We'd love to have you," Roberta said, smiling with glee. "This ought to help your relationship with Lizzie, too, huh?" Gordo rolled his eyes and stood up.
"I have some phone calls to make." He headed up to his room, dialing a phone number on the way. He called and talked to the dean of NYU, and the land-lord of his apartment. As long as he came out and paid the last rent, it was fine if he left. The school couldn't care less about Gordo either way. Gordo got online and booked an airline ticket. He would leave tomorrow morning at eight and go get his stuff. He'd return home the next day.
"Gordon." Gordo jumped. He turned and looked at his window. There sat the man with the red beard, knife in hand. "Hey. How have you been?" The man asked, twirling his dagger nonchalantly.
"Um…fine. How-how are you?"
"I'm good. I wrote a book. Have you read it?"
"No, a friend of mine has it, though."
"How's your girlfriend?" Gordo thought his next move over carefully. He could tell the truth, flee the room, or make something up. He was fresh out of good stories, and had no clue if Darian could throw a knife with accuracy. At least if he told the truth, this guy might decide to leave Lizzie out of it.
"We broke up."
"Oh, what a shame. You still friends?"
"No. I don't talk to her at all," Gordo fibbed in a feeble attempt to keep the man away from Lizzie.
"Hmm…Well, Gordon, I told you I would be back. I'm not through with you yet."
"Where's your friend?" Gordo asked, hoping to delay whatever Darian was going to do.
"Gone. If ya know what I mean." He snickered.
"Oh…say, do you like sports?"
"Face it; there's nothing to talk about."
"So…what, are you just going to kill me or make me suffer first?"
"You'll see." That couldn't be good. Gordo grimaced. "Perhaps I should go get a friend of yours?"
"No! Please!" Gordo stood up, walking carefully over to his lamp. He laid his hand on it, ready to fight if necessary. "Please, leave Lizzie out of this. You said you have a problem with my family. She's not related to me."
"You still love her, Gordon, or you wouldn't care." Then he was gone. Poof, gone. Gordo made a mad dash for his phone.
"Hello?" Lizzie asked.
"Lizzie, oh thank God." Gordo sighed. "Listen, I talked to Darian, and—''
"You talked to Darian? Without him dangling a knife in your face?"
"Well, he had a knife, but he kept it out of my face…anyway, Liz, he was saying that he was going to go find a friend of mine. I thought he might be talking about you. Can we stay on the phone for a while, just so I'll know if anything happens?"
Lizzie snickered at his being over protective but replied with, "Yeah. Of course, Gordo."
"Cool. So whatcha up to?"
"Oh…nothing. Have you thought anymore about college?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, I have."
"And…?"
"I'm just going to wait a year and then go to UCLA."
"Oh, Gordo! That's great!"
"I thought you'd think so."
"I think we've beat our record," Gordo said, yawning.
"Yeah…we've been talking for four hours. Gordo, I don't think he's going to come. I want to go to bed."
"Okay. Goodnight, Lizzie."
"Goodnight, Gordo." Gordo hung up the phone. He was fatigued, and wished to go to bed, but he had to get ready to leave tomorrow morning. He threw a shirt and pair of jeans into a backpack (he would only be gone for a day) along with his toothbrush, comb, and toothpaste. He threw himself into bed. Morning came all too soon.
Gordo got his suitcase out of the closet and sighed. He had been traveling too much lately. He shoved a couple days' worth of clothes into the bag and zipped it up. He would be back the next day, anyway. He stalked down the stairs and said a quick goodbye to his parents, then drove to Lizzie's. However, Miranda came to the door instead.
"Gordo," she said, "hi."
"Hi. Can I come in and talk to you and Lizzie?"
"Sure." Miranda held the door open farther. Gordo sidestepped her and walked into the living room.
"Gordo!" Lizzie exclaimed, getting to her feet.
"I'm going back to New York to move out of my apartment. So I'm saying goodbye, now." Lizzie held out her arms and they embraced.
"I'll see you soon," she said. Gordo nodded and hugged Miranda. Then he was gone.
As he got outside, Gordo reached for his keys, but noticed that his car door was already unlocked. He looked around suspiciously. He hadn't locked his car. He shrugged it off and got into the car. Nothing looked suspicious. He turned the car on and drove to the airport.
Gordo threw his suitcase onto the conveyer belt in the security department. It was small and light enough to be a carry-on, so why pay to check a bag? He slipped his shoes off and put them on the belt, too.
Suddenly, red lights began to go off above the security department. Alarms sounded. All eyes turned to the line Gordo was in, and several security guards rushed over. Gordo's suitcase was pushed through the screening area and immediately snatched by an officer.
"Excuse me," Gordo asked. "What's going on?"
"There's a suspicious shape in your suitcase, sir," the officer replied, opening the bag to search it. Gordo sighed.
"I only have clothes in there," he said, tapping his foot.
"Oh, really?" The officer held up something that Gordo had never seen up close before. A gun. He went pale in the face.
"Officer, I did not put that in my suitcase. I've never even seen a gun in real life before."
"Right. That's what they all say."
More officers swarmed around Gordo. He was handcuffed and led to a back room. A conference room. He was shoved down into a chair. Soon, a police car pulled up to the back door, and Gordo was escorted to the police station. Gordo was terrified, but had studied a lot of law.
"What are my charges?" he asked.
"I'll tell you when I'm good and ready," Gordo's officer announced.
"I have a right to know my charges," Gordo insisted.
The officer sighed. "Attempting to bring a gun on a plane, illegal weapons in an airport, suspicious public behavior, and endangering citizens." (A/N: I really didn't feel like looking up the technical terms for this.)
Gordo scoffed. "All that for a gun I didn't even put in my suitcase?" The officer shoved Gordo toward a desk.
"Sign these papers."
"Being able to move my hands would help."
"Don't be a smart-ass. You're in a lot of trouble." He unlocked the handcuffs and Gordo signed the papers. He was then taken to an interrogation room where he was read his rights.
"Why are you here today?" the detective asked. Gordo rolled his eyes.
"You have my file. I think you know."
"If you cooperate, this will be a lot easier on both of us."
"I'm here because they found a gun in my suitcase at the airport."
"How did that gun get there?"
"I don't know."
"Well, someone had to put it there."
"Yeah, but I didn't," Gordo snapped.
"Then who did?"
"I don't know! That's the whole point!"
"Surely you must have a slight idea."
"This is ridiculous. I want a lawyer."
"Fine." The detective sat back in his chair.
A/N: I'm really happy I'm starting this story again. ^_^ Please review.
Thinking of You will be updated soon.