Chapter Text
So David Gordon joined the Chess Club. He discovered he was indeed better at the game than Tudge or AnnaBelle, the strange Goth girl who rarely spoke, yet not as good as Meryl, or Scott or Ricardo, the computer nerds who sometimes spoke in Klingon. Best of all was Charlie, a senior who was Harvard bound. Mr. Dig himself really stunk at Chess, but he was a lot of fun.
As Tudge had mentioned, Mr. Dig took them all for pizza after every Match. On the Saturday night before Halloween, there was a big Match with a school in the neighboring district. Mr. Dig piled everyone into the school mini-van late in the afternoon, and they returned triumphant and full of pizza close to midnight. Gordo crashed at Tudge’s house that night.
It had been a fun evening, but the best thing was that it took Gordo’s mind off all the Halloween parties he hadn’t been invited to. Monday in school he heard that Lizzie and Brett had gone to a party dressed as Adam and Eve. From what he understood, their costumes consisted of strategically placed silk leaves and plastic fruits. Gordo’s imagination went wild, and he wondered how Lizzie’s mom had let her out of the house like that. He burned with jealousy.
He and Tudge were becoming good friends, much better friends than they had ever been in middle school, and spent many Saturday afternoons playing chess in the park. Meryl was usually with them, and while she and Tudge challenged each other, Gordo would practice his skateboarding moves.
On occasion Gordo found himself distracted when he noticed Meryl distracting Tudge by blowing in his ear. He wished he had somebody to blow in his ear. He didn’t mean AnnaBelle, their strange gothy teammate who sometimes joined them for a few games and sat next to him humming an annoying tune that sounded more like the Death March than anything else. He wouldn’t have minded Meryl blowing his ear, but Tudge continually reminded him where the lines were drawn regarding his Merry.
No, he still wanted Lizzie. Despite the fact that the Three Musketeers weren’t happening, and in fact he hadn’t even spoken with Lizzie since her short phone call of apology the night of the Mall Disaster, he still wanted her.
Gordo had become comfortable enough with Tudge to tell him how he felt about Lizzie. Whenever Meryl wasn’t around, they began to drift into deeper and deeper man-to-man conversations. Now that Tudge was in a loving and stable relationship, Gordo was anxious to pick his brain on how to make that happen for himself. He could hardly believe this is what he had sunk to—getting Dear Abby advice from Larry Tudgeman! But things being what they were, he swallowed his pride, bared his soul and asked away.
Tudge warmed to the topic quickly. He loved talking about Merry almost as much as he enjoyed being with her. The problem, though, was that after several glorious minutes of Tudge singing the praises of his petite freckle-faced darling, he suddenly caught himself and cut short his rhapsody with a curt, “Now, don’t be getting any ideas, Gordon. Remember what I told you. Merry is mine. Hands off.”
“Hey, dude! Take a chill pill!” Gordo exclaimed in exasperation. “I’m not after your girl. I just want to know…how is it done? How do you even get started? What’s the magic formula?”
“Well, in my case—in our case—it was strictly a matter of being completely honest with each other. You can’t build a relationship on anything that’s fake, that’s pretend. And you wouldn’t want that kind of relationship anyway. Just be yourself. If you’re gonna click, you’ll click. It will happen.”
After Gordo got over the alternate reality vibe of Tudge using the word “relationship” twice within two sentences, Gordo dove into a further dose of alternate reality. “But when?” he demanded desperately. “Everyone else has found love already. You found Meryl, Lizzie found that damn Brat, and have you seen Ethan Craft lately? He’s joined at the hip to that hot surfer chick from Embarcadero Middle. Even Miranda’s found a new boyfriend. At least a new ‘Boyfriend of the Week.’ But that seems to be working for her. She seems happy enough flitting from one cute guy to another. So when do I get to be happy? When do I get to find love?”
Tudge took a deep breath and shook his head. “Gordon, Gordon,” he said sagely. “You’re coming at this all wrong, dude. YOU don’t ‘find’ love. Love finds YOU. Just wait and see. When the time is right, it will happen.”
Gordo sighed. Right now, Tudge was sounding suspiciously like his cousin Adam. And his mom, of course, who had said something similar to him several times over these last few weeks--which made him really uncomfortable, actually, because he had never voiced any of these concerns to his mother, but…somehow she knew. Because she was a psychiatrist? Or because she was a mom? There was almost no hope of keeping secrets from his mom.
The point was, everyone else seemed to have faith in him, have faith in the process of finding love…or, as Tudge was now suggesting, being found by love.
Why couldn’t he have that same faith?
Though Gordo had sworn Tudge to secrecy regarding his feelings for Lizzie, and Tudge swore he would never breathe a word of it, after that Meryl suddenly became very interested in setting up their pal Gordon with any number of her friends.
It was football season and Meryl loved football, so she would drag Tudge and Gordon along to school games, also inviting one of her girlfriends. These girls were mostly artsy, intellectual types, and some were actually pretty cute. Gordo even thought he might be able to go for any one of them…except, of course, for one thing. As they sat in the stands, instead of cheering on the team or talking to his date, Gordo could not draw his eyes away from the cheerleaders…one cheerleader in particular, who looked exceptionally cute and sexy in her short pleated skirt, shaking her pom poms in the school colors. Afterwards, if they went out to eat, Gordo was so depressed, he would more often than not claim a stomachache and leave early.
During this time, Nicole in his History class was being exceptionally nice to him. Gordo could tell at first that she felt sorry for him after what had happened in the Mall, and she kept asking “Are you okay?” which was actually pretty annoying and embarrassing. As time went on though, she eased up, and they revisited their shared enthusiasm for the 1960’s.
When Mr. Minsky assigned “War” as a topic for group study and presentation, both Gordo and Nicole flew like magnets to the VietNam War. There were three other students in their group, but as Gordo and Nicole showed the most interest in the topic, the other were glad to hang back and let them do all the work. They worked together often in class, and sometimes on Sunday afternoons.
One Sunday Nicole invited the entire group to her house to watch movies about the Vietnam war. All five were there for Good Morning, Vietnam but two left before Apocalypse Now. By the time they got to The Deer Hunter, only Nicole and Gordo remained, side by side on the couch, sharing the bottom of a huge bowl of popcorn.
It was fun hanging out with Nicole. Gordo could tell she liked him, but he also sensed something was causing her to hold back. Every time Nicole got close to saying something flirtatious—all that Chess was training him to anticipate what might be coming next—she would suddenly stop and become very quiet. Gordo wondered what could be going on with her, but he didn’t wonder too hard, because his mind was still so preoccupied with Lizzie.
Sometimes Miranda called, and at last he felt more comfortable telling her what was going on with his feelings about Lizzie. Miranda was very understanding and helpful. Mostly she just listened, and occasionally asked questions like, “Well, how do you feel about that?” Gordo would laugh and ask, “Have you been taking psychiatrist lessons from my parents?”
Finally, something magical began to happen. As November wore on, quickly approaching Thanksgiving, not only was his skateboarding ollie ready for Adam’s approval, but he also thought he might be able to imagine himself telling his cousin, “You know, you were right. Lizzie’s not the only fish in the sea.”
Gordo frequently saw Lizzie and Brett (or “Brat,” as he secretly thought of him) hanging around school, but somehow now it didn’t hurt quite as much as it used to. Either his talks with Miranda and Tudge were starting to do some good, or perhaps he was simply growing numb. But at the same time it became easier to see Lizzie and Brett, he also noticed he was looking forward more and more to seeing Nicole in History class. One day she wasn’t there, and he felt keenly aware of the void.
He wondered how he would feel when she returned the next day. But she didn’t return the next day, and he felt worse, wondering where she could be. That night he called Miranda and in the middle of their conversation casually asked, “So, how’s Nicole?”
It turned out she had the flu. Gordo felt terrible, imagining her sick. By the end of the week he decided to call her and offered to share his notes on the work she had missed. They talked for a while and it was nice. That night he didn’t think of Lizzie at all.
On Monday Nicole returned to school, looking a little pale. Gordo gave her Xeroxed copies of his class notes, to which he had added smiley faces and sideline comments for her amusem*nt. He also asked if she wanted to get together at lunchtime so they could go over the notes… “in case you can’t understand my handwriting or something.”
They met for lunch and barely discussed the notes at all. On Tuesday they tried again, but again, of all the things they talked about, what had happened in class was at the very bottom of the list.
Gordo realized he had gone almost 48 hours without thinking of Lizzie.
That evening, Nicole phoned her friend Miranda and asked straight out, “Is Dave seeing anyone?”
It took Miranda a moment to comprehend. She still thought of Gordo as Gordo. “No!” she exclaimed. “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”
“Sometimes I’ve seen him with different girls, like at the football games—”
“Oh, them. They’re nobody,” Miranda assured. “Friends of friends. Why do you ask?”
“And do you think he’s getting over Lizzie?”
“Do you?” Miranda asked, in her best psychiatrist mode.
“I think he seems a little happier lately,” Nicole said.
“I think so too!” Miranda agreed. “We’ve been having some good talks lately, and I’m hearing less and less about Lizzie and more and more about you.”
“Really?” Nicole asked, hopefully. “About me?”
“Yes, really,” Miranda grinned.
Nicole made a noise something like a squeal. “I’ve had lunch with him these last two days,” she said. “And I think I’m getting some signs—"
“Nikki!” Miranda exclaimed in delight. Then, “Oh, crap! Someone’s trying to ring through. Hold on.”
Miranda put Nicole on hold, then answered the other line. “Hello?”
“Hello, Miranda?”
“Gordo!”
“Hey, how’s it going? You got a minute?”
“I might,” Miranda said. “Why?”
“I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask me something about what?”
“About Nicole.”
“Hold on, Gordo. I’ll be right back.” Miranda put Gordo on hold, then went back to Nicole. “It’s Gordo! It’s Dave!” She whispered as if he could hear them through the line. “He’s asking about you!”
“Is he really?”
“Yes, yes! Do you want to hold?”
“No, no! Talk to him, then call me when you’re done. Better yet, tell him to call me.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Miranda went back to Gordo. “Hi there!” she said brightly. “What’s up?”
“Well, that’s kind of what I want to ask you,” Gordo said. “You seems to know Nicole pretty well, and the last few days I feel like maybe I’m getting some signs from her—”
“Oh, crap!” Miranda said.
“What?”
“Somebody’s ringing through. My parents are out. I have to answer, it might be them. Don’t go anywhere, Gordo. Don’t go anywhere! I’ll be right back.”
Miranda put Gordo on hold, fully expecting to hear her mom or dad on the other line, but before she could even get out her “hello,” her ears were assaulted by loud, uncontrollable weeping.
“Who is this?” she asked. “Who is it? What’s wrong?”
“Miran…Miran…Miranda!”
“Lizzie? Lizzie, what happened?”
There was more crying, but no words.
“Lizzie, did something happen?”
“Y….Y….Yes!” she bawled.
“What happened? Is it your family? Did something happen in your family?”
“No….” she sniffed.
“Then what? Who? Is it Brett? Did something happen to Brett?”
There was fresh weeping.
“What is it? What happened?” Miranda asked hysterically. “Is he okay? Is he hurt?”
“N…no…not hurt. It’s…it’s….he broke up with me!”
Miranda sighed, understanding completely. “Oh, Lizzie…”
As Lizzie continued to weep without words, Miranda understood she was going to be a long time on the phone with her best friend. Remembering Gordo on the other line, she said, “Lizzie, I have to get rid of another call. Hang on, I’ll be right back, okay?’
She heard Lizzie sniffling before she clicked over to Gordo.
“Oh hey!” she said. “Gordo. Listen…something’s come up, I can’t talk right now.”
“Is everything okay?” Gordo asked, hearing the edge of tension in her voice.
“Oh, yeah, yeah,” she said in that tone that he knew meant everything was not okay.
“Who’s on the other line?” he asked. “Is it your parents?”
“No.”
“Is everything okay?” he asked again, wondering if this time he might get the truth. “What’s going on?”
“It’s…just a friend. A friend who’s got a problem, something she needs to talk about.”
Gordo considered for a moment. He was a friend with a problem he needed to talk about. What friend would take precedence over him? What friend—?
“Is it Lizzie?” he asked suddenly.
“Why would you say that?” Miranda asked, her voice extremely high pitched.
“It’s Lizzie, isn’t it? What’s happened to Lizzie? Miranda, you have to tell me. Miranda…”
“Oh…” Miranda moaned. She was not very good at keeping secrets.
“Is it Brett?” Gordo asked, voicing his worst fears. “Did he do something to Lizzie? Miranda, you have to tell me.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed again. “Gordo, you can’t tell anyone. She only just told me. Brett broke up with her. She’s hysterical crying. I have to talk to her, I have to try to calm her down. I’ll call you later, Gordo, okay? You understand, right? Gordo? Gordo?”
But Gordo was no longer on the line. By this time he was out his front door and hurrying down the block towards Lizzie’s house.
