AN: This is my first HSM story. The first chapter is dedicated to setting the story up, and we'll get into the plot more next time. Please let me know what you think. And if you're waiting for one of my TP stories- bear with me; they're still coming!
Also, if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out. Thanks!
Disclaimer: If I owned HSM, I would be living in some mansion somewhere, counting truckloads of cash, not working fast food for minimum wage.
Strength
A High School Musical Story by Lela-of-Bast
"Breakfast is ready, Beth!"
Elizabeth Bolton slipped dainty feet into blue flip-flops. The almost fifteen year-old girl was readying herself for school. She often wore her long brown hair in a braid, but she had opted to be different on this day. As she arranged her hair around headband, her blue eyes sparkled in the mirror. Her hair and her eyes were both traits that she had inherited from her father.
"I'll be right down!" Elizabeth called, doing a final comb-through of her hair. She tucked a hair tie into her gym bag for practice, also checking that she had her tennis shoes and clean socks.
Elizabeth was the third generation of Boltons to play basketball as a East High Wildcat. Her father, Troy Bolton, was now a coach at the school, as her grandfather had been many years before. Only Troy coached the girl's team, the Lady Wildcats. The other team was coached by her father's best friend, Chad Danforth.
Elizabeth dumped her gym bag and her backpack on a bench by the front door, then went into the kitchen. Her spot at the counter was set with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice. The oatmeal was sprinkled with brown sugar, and it had begun to form a sugary glaze, just the way Elizabeth liked it.
"I'm going to leave a little early for school this morning," Troy said, washing his own breakfast dishes in the sink. "I want to get through that pile of paperwork that is taking over my desk." Elizabeth smiled.
"It is getting a little on the large side," she agreed.
"Well, I never dreamed that there would be this much paperwork involved with coaching a team. There are all kinds of releases and permissions slips. I should get a trophy for getting it all done."
"If you ever do," Elizabeth said, getting a scoff of agreement from her father. She stirred her oatmeal. "I think I'll walk to school then. It's very nice out."
"Before you leave, could you take out the steaks to defrost, please? Aunt Taylor and Uncle Chad are coming over for supper." Elizabeth, mouth full of oatmeal, only nodded. Troy came around the counter to hug his daughter. "Love you," he said, kissing the top her head. He did that every time he left the house. She swallowed.
"Love you too, Daddy!" Elizabeth called after her father. Twenty minutes later, she had washed her dish and was about to take out the steaks when she noticed the calendar that hung on the refrigerator. It was January fifteenth.
Elizabeth didn't think about how fast the new year was starting, or the fact that her birthday was only five days away. What stuck in Elizabeth Bolton's mind was that it was the anniversary of her mother's death. That was why her father had left early for work. He always felt kind of sad on that day.
Elizabeth wandered into the living room and sat on the carpet next to a tall bookcase. The bottom shelf housed the Bolton family photo albums. Elizabeth chose the seventeenth book and began to page through it. Her mother had made an album for each year of her life. This one was filled with pictures from the junior year of high school. That was the year that Gabriella Montez had come to East High School and met the love of her life, basketball star Troy Bolton.
Three years graduation, Troy and Gabriella had a summer wedding at the Lava Springs Country Club. Elizabeth had seen dozens of pictures of the wedding and the early years of the marriage. She knew that her mother and father were very happy with each other. Every picture proclaimed their love and devotion.
The joy and love deepened five years later, when Elizabeth was born. Troy and Gabriella planned trips to the zoo and days in the park, even though their baby was too young to remember any of them. Elizabeth was glad that they had taken a lot of pictures, because the pictures were the only way she could see how happy they were.
Five days before Elizabeth's first birthday, Gabriella had gone out shopping with her mother and her daughter. Troy told Elizabeth that he was at basketball practice when he got a call from the hospital. Gabriella had been stopped at a red light. When it turned green, three cars in front of her entered the intersection. When her turn came, Gabriella followed the other cars, and at that moment a semi-truck came barreling from the crossroad and smashed into her car.
Troy said that he saw the car, about a week after the accident. The only part of the vehicle that was not wrecked was the rear middle seat, where Elizabeth's car-seat had been strapped in.
From the day of the accident, it had been just Elizabeth, and her dad. Elizabeth had always been amazed at the strength she saw in her father. It couldn't have been easy to move on and raise a child on his own, but he'd seen that he and Beth made it through each day relatively unscathed.
Elizabeth's cat, Bradley, rubbed against her arm, bringing her back to the present. She wasn't sure how long she'd been sitting there with the albums, but she knew she had to leave or be late for school. As she tucked her mother's picture into her pocket, Elizabeth's cell phone began to chime, announcing an incoming text message.
The girl pulled the phone from her pocket and pressed a button to see the id on the front screen. The message was from her father. His messages were usually a source of amusement, as Troy insisted on taking the time to type out each word and add proper punctuation. With a smile, Elizabeth flipped open her phone to read the whole message.
Where are you, Beth? You
said that you would walk, and
I am getting worried. School
started ten minutes
It was so long that Beth had to stop and scroll to the next message to read the end.
ago. Are you alright?
Adrenaline beginning to flow, Elizabeth pressed a few buttons to send a reply message.
im ok. omw.
As soon as it cleared she took off for the front door, grabbing her bags as she passed by. She took off down the street in a run. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it registered that her father's car was still in the driveway, meaning he'd walked too. She wasn't surprised. He didn't like to drive on January 15th.
The walk between the Bolton residence and East High normally took about twenty-two minutes. Elizabeth made it in ten.
She signed in at the office, dropped her gym bag in her father's office, then headed to English class. The other students were reading quietly. Her best friend, Brooke Lewis, waved and mouthed 'what's up?'. Elizabeth ignored her friend, resolving to later remind Brooke of the day. She wasn't about to further interrupt Old Lady Grier's class.
Most of the students believed that Mrs. Grier had been teaching English when Shakespeare wrote Hamlet. Elizabeth knew that she'd been teaching since her grandfather was a senior at East High, and that was far too long for her taste. The students all called her Old Lady Grier; everyone was afraid of her, even the principal.
Without making a sound, Elizabeth gave the teacher her note, then settled into her seat to read the last ten pages in Beowulf.
When she looked up again, a yellow detention slip was on her desk. Elizabeth sighed. Throughout the day her best friend managed to collect slips of her own. Elizabeth knew that Brooke had gotten in trouble on purpose, but she didn't call her out on it.
Ever since her parents' junior year, being a Wildcat meant being part of a family. It was a strong tradition, and Wildcat spirit continued to persist over the years. Family was always there for you. That was why Brooke had her back.
Besides, the Spanish teacher only punished Brooke for telling the truth; Mr. Ramirez's sweater-vest really did look like something a cat had puked up.
After school, Elizabeth and Brooke walked to detention together. Elizabeth was upset about missing basketball practice, but Brooke lived for the theater and was more than happy to help paint sets for the winter musical.
Ms. Kelsi Neilson had been a composer since she was young, and had grown up a Wildcat herself. Now she ran East High's music program. Ms. Neilson was one of her father's old friends, as well as her old piano teacher, so the smile Elizabeth gave as she handed over her detention slip was genuine.
"I don't think I've ever seen you in detention before, Lizzie," Ms. Neilson said after she'd set them each to a task. "What did they get you for?"
"Jaywalking!" Brooke joked from the wall she was painting. Elizabeth gave her a Look, but otherwise ignored the comment.
"I was late this morning," she answered, stapling scales to a large purple fish. Ms. Neilson seemed upset.
"And she wrote you up? Today of all days! …Old Lady Grier is such a compassionless old fart," she muttered to herself. Elizabeth smiled to herself as she stapled, glad that Ms. Neilson was part of her Wildcat family.
