Disclaimer: Ownage? Naw. That would be Disney. I'm not Disney.
***
In my mad dash from that crime scene area (the yellow tape kind), I ended up smashing right into someone. I muttered an apology, refusing to look up, hoping to just get on my way without an embarrassing showdown.
As I brushed past them, they reached out and grabbed my arm, however, forcing me to stop. "Yo, Lizzie, what's up?"
Ethan Craft. Of all people. Of all days. *Now* was the time he wanted to start being all super-friendly.
"I really don't wanna talk about it, Ethan," I muttered.
"Liz, you look real upset," he observed. "You sure you don't wanna tell me what's going on?"
At this point, I was so messed up that it didn't even matter. What did I have to lose by telling Ethan everything? Knowing him, he'd probably just get distracted by a bird in the next five minutes and forget everything. (And I had *liked* this guy. For two years. Two years!)
"Okay, so what it all comes down to is this, basically," I said, and blurted out the whole murder-mystery-party-Rome-Gordo-sacrificing-the-trip-of-a-lifetime story, running through a list of all the times I'd kissed him (three, if you counted my crazy stunt on picture day) and how I'd just flat out run away from my best friend.
Ethan nodded throughout my entire rant, and it looked like he was actually listening. And understanding. "So, it sounds to me like you really like Gor-don." Well, no duh, Mr. Craft. Like that wasn't obvious by now after my entire story. Of course, this was Ethan, and he was slow. I had to keep reminding myself that. Sometimes it's not that good of a thing to spend so much time talking with Gordo. He's really smart and he's known me my entire life, so he pretty much knows what I'm going to say, and what I'm not saying. And...
Oh, crap, now I'm thinking about Gordo again. Stupid brain!
"Yeah, I guess I do," I said.
He grinned at me, and I couldn't lie that he was still pretty hot. I mean, he didn't compare to a certain someone...
Had I just said that *Gordo* was hotter than *Ethan*?
That was something I never would have considered back in the day...never would've even though about it.
I really *did* have it bad.
"So, you should ask him out."
"I will do nothing of the sort," I said indignantly.
Ethan, who normally looks soft of confused, looked truly confused at this. He screwed up his face, deep in thought, and asked "Why not?"
Why not? *Why not*? I'll tell you why not--
Wait a minute. He had a point. Why not?
"I mean, Gor-don and I aren't exactly the tightest peeps--" Understatement of the century, Ethan. "--but it's pretty obvious that he likes you, Lizzie. And if he likes you and you like him, then you should ask him out."
'I think I like my best friend as more than a friend. What should I do?'
Out of nowhere, that line popped into my head. Where had it come from..?
Oh, yeah, my Dear Lizzie column. Funny how well it applied now. I could've written it myself.
Wait a minute. You don't suppose...no way...maybe...*Gordo* wrote it? 'Confused Guy,' the pen name had been. Well, Gordo as a guy...and this could confuse anyone, definitely (it was confusing me).
"Ethan, I gotta go," I said. "Thanks."
"Yeah, sure, I--" Ethan started to say, but I was already running down the hallway, back to the caf. "Gordo!" I yelled, bursting through the doors, hoping he was still there. Everyone was probably staring at me, wondering what was up with this drama queen freshman, but screw them.
As I reached our table, I noticed that he most definitely wasn't sitting there. I panicked. If you were Gordo, and your best friend had just kissed you in the middle of the cafeteria for no good reason, and then went running off, where would you go?
Well, if I was Gordo, first I would've finished my sandwich. Then I would've thrown out my garbage.
I glanced to the cans, but no sign of my mop-topped best friend.
Okay. Still half an hour of lunch to kill, I'd go...to the library.
Of course. The library.
I jogged out of the cafeteria again. Falling for Gordo was a lot more physically draining than I would've expected. I wound through the hallways of Hillridge High, getting lost only once before I located the library. I burst through the doors, expecting to get shushed by some bespectacled old lady, but I guess even the librarians need a lunch period.
My instincts had been right. There he was, sitting at a back table, next to a huge picture window. There was a book open in front of him, but he wasn't looking at it.
"Gordo!" I called to him, not caring who I was disturbing because I was pretty sure it was just us in here.
He looked up, and I was too far away to read his eyes. He wasn't making any moves to get away from me, though. That was a good sign.
"Lizzie, I--" he said, getting up, but I didn't listen to him. I closed the distance between us, grabbed his face, and pulled it to mine for a kiss.
Have you ever felt the world stop? Try kissing your soul mate. Because I'm pretty sure that's what Gordo and I are: soul mates. In that whole lovey-dovey sense, I don't know, but I just get this feeling like we're always supposed to be together, whether it's as friends or otherwise.
It was like the universe stopped. I honestly don't know how long my lips were on his, but it was long enough for him to kiss me back.
He was kissing me back.
This time when I pulled away from him, I didn't run. I was still pretty embarrassed, but I met his eyes. A little daily humiliation was nothing new to me, and at this point, who really cared? My entire future rested in the balance of what happened next.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry I never realized before."
A smile was playing at the corner of his lips, almost smug. "Didn't realize what?" he asked, an undertone of amusement in his voice.
So he *knew*. Well, fantastic. Does everyone know everything about my life before I do? That hardly seems fair. But it wasn't the time to dwell on that, and I answered, "How I felt about you."
The amused/smug look grew more intense, like he was holding back laughter. "And how *do* you feel about me?"
Well, *duh*, you moron. Like you couldn't tell everything from that kiss.
"I like you, Gordo." I realized too late that that was what I always said, because I *did* like Gordo, but I also *liked*-liked Gordo, and that was what I'd come here to tell him. But still, I was annoyed that he couldn't just own up to his own feelings about me. I glared at him. "How do *you* feel about *me*?" I countered.
He blushed. He actually blushed. It was so cute! But I couldn't let myself get all gushy again, because then I would lose my position of power. "Um," he said. "Um. Well."
"Spit it out, Gordo."
"Olive-Ulysses," he said, staring at his shoes. At least, that's what I think he said. It was all just this big rush of words. At least when I talk fast, it's coherent. I narrowed my eyes at him. "At a speed that humans can understand."
Gordo sighed, met my eyes, and repeated, "I love you, Lizzie."
I take it all back. *That* was when the world stopped turning. I felt hot, I felt cold, I felt faint, I felt all sorts of things that I can't even begin to describe. Gordo loved me. Me. Lizzie McGuire. David Gordon loved Lizzie McGuire.
I couldn't get that out of my head. I didn't want to get it out of my head. I don't know how long my brain repeated that phrase in my mind, but it must have been for two long, because Gordo's face fell and I realized I hadn't said anything. The hope in his eyes had been extinguished and I was just staring blankly at him.
"Never mind," he muttered, bowing his head again, then reaching for his backpack. "I'm out of here."
He brushed past me, and that's when my brain finally jumped into gear. "I love you too."
He was behind me now, and we turned to face each other at the same time. "You mean that?"
I put my hands on my hips and rolled my eyes. "David Gordon, have I ever said anything I didn't mean?"
Gordo stared at me, nonplussed. "I can think of about a million times," he deadpanned.
I bit my lip, holding back laughter. My boyfriend, the comedian.
Hold up. *Boyfriend*? Were we..?
"Well, whatever. But I mean that."
"Oh. Um. Cool," he said, bowing his head as to hide the fact that he was grinning like it was Christmas morning (okay, I know, he's Jewish, work with me here).
"Gordo," I said nervously. "Um, are we..?"
He shrugged, looking up for a fraction of a second. "I don't know. I guess we are. Do you want to be?"
"Yeah, I guess I do."
"Okay, then, we are."
We smiled at each other, but it was a flash of a smile, tentative, confused. I laughed at the absurdity of it all. He cocked an eyebrow at me, easily segueing back into Lizzie-and-Gordo-best-friends-forever mode. "What's *that* all about?"
"Look at us!" I said, still giggling. "We've known each other our entire lives, and we don't know what to say. It's so pathetic."
"Totally pathetic," he agreed.
"But, you know..." I said slowly, "when I'm around you, the silence isn't, you know, *bad*. It's more...comfortable."
He smiled at that. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
I took his hand, and I swear, the tingle running through my body must've been what it was like to get electrocuted, only about a hundred times stronger.
We were grinning at each other doofily. But it was all good. Me. And Gordo.
Cool.
***
In my mad dash from that crime scene area (the yellow tape kind), I ended up smashing right into someone. I muttered an apology, refusing to look up, hoping to just get on my way without an embarrassing showdown.
As I brushed past them, they reached out and grabbed my arm, however, forcing me to stop. "Yo, Lizzie, what's up?"
Ethan Craft. Of all people. Of all days. *Now* was the time he wanted to start being all super-friendly.
"I really don't wanna talk about it, Ethan," I muttered.
"Liz, you look real upset," he observed. "You sure you don't wanna tell me what's going on?"
At this point, I was so messed up that it didn't even matter. What did I have to lose by telling Ethan everything? Knowing him, he'd probably just get distracted by a bird in the next five minutes and forget everything. (And I had *liked* this guy. For two years. Two years!)
"Okay, so what it all comes down to is this, basically," I said, and blurted out the whole murder-mystery-party-Rome-Gordo-sacrificing-the-trip-of-a-lifetime story, running through a list of all the times I'd kissed him (three, if you counted my crazy stunt on picture day) and how I'd just flat out run away from my best friend.
Ethan nodded throughout my entire rant, and it looked like he was actually listening. And understanding. "So, it sounds to me like you really like Gor-don." Well, no duh, Mr. Craft. Like that wasn't obvious by now after my entire story. Of course, this was Ethan, and he was slow. I had to keep reminding myself that. Sometimes it's not that good of a thing to spend so much time talking with Gordo. He's really smart and he's known me my entire life, so he pretty much knows what I'm going to say, and what I'm not saying. And...
Oh, crap, now I'm thinking about Gordo again. Stupid brain!
"Yeah, I guess I do," I said.
He grinned at me, and I couldn't lie that he was still pretty hot. I mean, he didn't compare to a certain someone...
Had I just said that *Gordo* was hotter than *Ethan*?
That was something I never would have considered back in the day...never would've even though about it.
I really *did* have it bad.
"So, you should ask him out."
"I will do nothing of the sort," I said indignantly.
Ethan, who normally looks soft of confused, looked truly confused at this. He screwed up his face, deep in thought, and asked "Why not?"
Why not? *Why not*? I'll tell you why not--
Wait a minute. He had a point. Why not?
"I mean, Gor-don and I aren't exactly the tightest peeps--" Understatement of the century, Ethan. "--but it's pretty obvious that he likes you, Lizzie. And if he likes you and you like him, then you should ask him out."
'I think I like my best friend as more than a friend. What should I do?'
Out of nowhere, that line popped into my head. Where had it come from..?
Oh, yeah, my Dear Lizzie column. Funny how well it applied now. I could've written it myself.
Wait a minute. You don't suppose...no way...maybe...*Gordo* wrote it? 'Confused Guy,' the pen name had been. Well, Gordo as a guy...and this could confuse anyone, definitely (it was confusing me).
"Ethan, I gotta go," I said. "Thanks."
"Yeah, sure, I--" Ethan started to say, but I was already running down the hallway, back to the caf. "Gordo!" I yelled, bursting through the doors, hoping he was still there. Everyone was probably staring at me, wondering what was up with this drama queen freshman, but screw them.
As I reached our table, I noticed that he most definitely wasn't sitting there. I panicked. If you were Gordo, and your best friend had just kissed you in the middle of the cafeteria for no good reason, and then went running off, where would you go?
Well, if I was Gordo, first I would've finished my sandwich. Then I would've thrown out my garbage.
I glanced to the cans, but no sign of my mop-topped best friend.
Okay. Still half an hour of lunch to kill, I'd go...to the library.
Of course. The library.
I jogged out of the cafeteria again. Falling for Gordo was a lot more physically draining than I would've expected. I wound through the hallways of Hillridge High, getting lost only once before I located the library. I burst through the doors, expecting to get shushed by some bespectacled old lady, but I guess even the librarians need a lunch period.
My instincts had been right. There he was, sitting at a back table, next to a huge picture window. There was a book open in front of him, but he wasn't looking at it.
"Gordo!" I called to him, not caring who I was disturbing because I was pretty sure it was just us in here.
He looked up, and I was too far away to read his eyes. He wasn't making any moves to get away from me, though. That was a good sign.
"Lizzie, I--" he said, getting up, but I didn't listen to him. I closed the distance between us, grabbed his face, and pulled it to mine for a kiss.
Have you ever felt the world stop? Try kissing your soul mate. Because I'm pretty sure that's what Gordo and I are: soul mates. In that whole lovey-dovey sense, I don't know, but I just get this feeling like we're always supposed to be together, whether it's as friends or otherwise.
It was like the universe stopped. I honestly don't know how long my lips were on his, but it was long enough for him to kiss me back.
He was kissing me back.
This time when I pulled away from him, I didn't run. I was still pretty embarrassed, but I met his eyes. A little daily humiliation was nothing new to me, and at this point, who really cared? My entire future rested in the balance of what happened next.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry I never realized before."
A smile was playing at the corner of his lips, almost smug. "Didn't realize what?" he asked, an undertone of amusement in his voice.
So he *knew*. Well, fantastic. Does everyone know everything about my life before I do? That hardly seems fair. But it wasn't the time to dwell on that, and I answered, "How I felt about you."
The amused/smug look grew more intense, like he was holding back laughter. "And how *do* you feel about me?"
Well, *duh*, you moron. Like you couldn't tell everything from that kiss.
"I like you, Gordo." I realized too late that that was what I always said, because I *did* like Gordo, but I also *liked*-liked Gordo, and that was what I'd come here to tell him. But still, I was annoyed that he couldn't just own up to his own feelings about me. I glared at him. "How do *you* feel about *me*?" I countered.
He blushed. He actually blushed. It was so cute! But I couldn't let myself get all gushy again, because then I would lose my position of power. "Um," he said. "Um. Well."
"Spit it out, Gordo."
"Olive-Ulysses," he said, staring at his shoes. At least, that's what I think he said. It was all just this big rush of words. At least when I talk fast, it's coherent. I narrowed my eyes at him. "At a speed that humans can understand."
Gordo sighed, met my eyes, and repeated, "I love you, Lizzie."
I take it all back. *That* was when the world stopped turning. I felt hot, I felt cold, I felt faint, I felt all sorts of things that I can't even begin to describe. Gordo loved me. Me. Lizzie McGuire. David Gordon loved Lizzie McGuire.
I couldn't get that out of my head. I didn't want to get it out of my head. I don't know how long my brain repeated that phrase in my mind, but it must have been for two long, because Gordo's face fell and I realized I hadn't said anything. The hope in his eyes had been extinguished and I was just staring blankly at him.
"Never mind," he muttered, bowing his head again, then reaching for his backpack. "I'm out of here."
He brushed past me, and that's when my brain finally jumped into gear. "I love you too."
He was behind me now, and we turned to face each other at the same time. "You mean that?"
I put my hands on my hips and rolled my eyes. "David Gordon, have I ever said anything I didn't mean?"
Gordo stared at me, nonplussed. "I can think of about a million times," he deadpanned.
I bit my lip, holding back laughter. My boyfriend, the comedian.
Hold up. *Boyfriend*? Were we..?
"Well, whatever. But I mean that."
"Oh. Um. Cool," he said, bowing his head as to hide the fact that he was grinning like it was Christmas morning (okay, I know, he's Jewish, work with me here).
"Gordo," I said nervously. "Um, are we..?"
He shrugged, looking up for a fraction of a second. "I don't know. I guess we are. Do you want to be?"
"Yeah, I guess I do."
"Okay, then, we are."
We smiled at each other, but it was a flash of a smile, tentative, confused. I laughed at the absurdity of it all. He cocked an eyebrow at me, easily segueing back into Lizzie-and-Gordo-best-friends-forever mode. "What's *that* all about?"
"Look at us!" I said, still giggling. "We've known each other our entire lives, and we don't know what to say. It's so pathetic."
"Totally pathetic," he agreed.
"But, you know..." I said slowly, "when I'm around you, the silence isn't, you know, *bad*. It's more...comfortable."
He smiled at that. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
I took his hand, and I swear, the tingle running through my body must've been what it was like to get electrocuted, only about a hundred times stronger.
We were grinning at each other doofily. But it was all good. Me. And Gordo.
Cool.