Miranda's Journal [Lizzie McGuire] ✔️

Chapter Seven

"Check this out. All three of us are at the same place. Can you believe that?" Gordo said, hoping to get the girls to give each other a reuniting hug or at least speak to each other. He looked to Miranda standing by the doorway. She put up the hood from her sweatshirt, but didn't move. Gordo then turned to Lizzie, who looked more hurt than angry at Miranda. He zipped his head from one friend to another like someone viewing a table tennis game. When it was clearly obvious none of the girls wanted to speak, move or do anything, Gordo stepped in, standing next to Lizzie.

"Don't you want to say something to Miranda?" Gordo said. Lizzie glared at him before facing Miranda.

"Yeah I do," Lizzie said, folding her arms as she walked to Miranda. "I can't believe you lied to me."

"You told her Gordo?" Miranda shouted. "And you promised you wouldn't!"

"Miranda I'm sorry but Lizzie deserves to know!"

Lizzie stomped her feet closer to Miranda, standing directly in front of her.

"How could you tell Gordo that I was taking him away from you?You know I'm not that kind of person!"

Miranda peered around Lizzie to gape at Gordo.

"I never said that! Gordo why would you tell her that?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. I just meant to tell her you felt like a third wheel."

"Well it doesn't matter, because you broke my promise. I really trusted you Gordo." Miranda starting heading out the Style Shack. "I think it was a huge mistake coming back here."

Gordo ran up to her, putting his hands on her arms. "That's not true Miranda."

Miranda thrusted her body away from him. "No! Get away from me. I hate you!"

The Style Shack's doors flew open and Miranda ran out, down the sidewalk. Gordo frowned, then turned to Lizzie. He gave her soft eyes, waiting for her to say something, but she shook her head and left the Style Shack in the opposite direction of Miranda, leaving Gordo standing alone with people gawking at him.

Gordo looked as the Style Shack's doors and didn't hesitate to run out to see if he could catch up with either Lizzie or Miranda, but they weren't visible. He shook his head and kicked his sneaker on the cement. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked to his car, giving up. Giving up on chasing after Miranda and stopping her from leaving.

That was until he got home. In his anger and frustration, Gordo dug Miranda's journal out of the couch cushions. He looked at the etched lettering in the corner one last time, then he threw the book to the floor. It tumbled across the living room, but a page flew out.

Gordo held his head, screaming internally. He knelt down to pick up the journal. He eyed the page that got torn out by his own doing. It was written front and back, in small handwriting; every line filled. The heading read: A Letter I'll Never Deliver. Gordo stood to his feet and backed up to the couch. Sitting down, he began to read the letter.

A Letter I'll Never Deliver

Gordo, Gordo, Gordo. Where do I begin? First of all that nickname? How did I not realize that "gordo" means fat in Spanish? I don't know, but it's funny and I love it. It's weird calling you David, because your Gordo. Just Gordo.

Gordo my friend. My best friend. Gordo the most interesting, unique, weird (in a good way) person I know on this entire planet. Gordo the person I find myself thinking about as I lay awake and I don't know why.

Gordo, you are so special to me and my life. You've changed the way I see things. You've changed the way I see the world. But most importantly, you've changed the way I see you. Thanks a lot for that by the way, because now I'm struggling with watching you and Lizzie slowly become more than friends and wishing that it was me. But oh well, you need a friend to be there for you when you and Lizzie get together. So I guess I'm that person.