Summary: I used to hate him with a burning passion, so bad my whole life started revolving around him. Everywhere I looked, he seemed to be there with that cocky grin planted on his face. It didn't help that I now had to see it every time I glanced in the mirror.

*.*

Two weeks ago, if you asked me about a certain blue-eyed boy, I would've gave you the longest explanation on why I absolutely hated him. Now after I've literally witnessed what he's had to deal with his whole life, the only thing I could say was how much sympathy I had for him. Oh, and did I forget to mention how much love I had for the boy? That's right; I was now in love with the boy that I once wanted to kill with my bare hands.

But before you go making up completely uncanny stories on how I might've started falling for him, let me start by saying;

I'm not crazy.

And I am not lying.

Not even the slightest bit.

Unfortunately, my parents think I've gone mad, so here I am, sitting in a very uncomfortable chair telling my problems to a therapist. I would've thought it would be boring, but seeing the look on her face when I told her was priceless.

I never want to leave this place.

Shit…

It's happening again. I'm rambling. Troy says I do it way too much. Like, seriously, I have this issue where I can't stop until-

Man, I did it again!

Sorry, my apologies, let's just get on with the story.

"Gabriella, I assure you, everything you say here will stay here." I raised an eyebrow as I continued picking at the chair's threads. I saw those movies, with the shrinks telling you everything is confidential, but in reality, if it's some mental story like mine, they won't keep it secret.

"Ms…" I glanced over at her name tag – convenient huh? – and continued, "Brown." Okay, I had to laugh at that one. What a perfect, plain last name, for a plain woman. "Do you have any kids?"

She pursed her lips, giving me the strangest look. "I don't see how that has anything to do with this session, dear."

Dear, oh how I hated being called by pet names. Troy makes sure to never call me by some stupid pet name, or he knows I'll go ape shit on his ass. I'm good with Brie, baby, and most perfect woman on the planet, but dear? No.

"I assure you," I repeated mockingly and smiled. "It has everything to do with this session."

I was probably her least favorite client, but who cares, I'm Gabriella. Everyone learns to love me at some point.

"I have two, yes." She said.

I grinned. "Do you love them?"

She looked a bit taken back by that one. "Of course I do. They're my children."

No fucking duh, I fought the urge to say. But it was my dumb question; I should've expected a peachy answer. "You see, my…" I scratched my arm, thinking of a good word to define Troy. I don't want to completely spill my guts and tell this woman everything yet, so I guess I'll have to bend the truth a little. "person, grew up with parents that neglected him. It kind of caused him to be a fucking ass to everyone around him." Shit, am I allowed to curse here? "Including me."

"And this…person, he was a big problem for you?" She wondered.

I bit my lip. "I hated him. I hated him so much, I didn't know if I could ever not hate him." I admitted.

"Hated? As in the past?"

I nodded. Dammit, she was using those magical therapist powers on me and making me confess everything…nicely.

"Can I ask you another question?" Luckily, she wasn't going to remind me that it was already a question.

She simply nodded. I took a deep breath. "Do you believe in magic?"

"I believe in the concept of magic, but I think it is all just an illusion of the mind." She told me. I laughed.

"Lady, this was not an illusion." And, back to the normal self. How could I ever think a therapist could get to me? Pft, bad Gabriella, don't ever doubt yourself again.

"What are you referring to?" She seemed to be completely unfazed by the way I spoke to her. God, she was definitely good at her job, I'll give her some credit.

"It's just better if I start from the beginning." I said. "You might want to get another pen, just in case this one runs out of ink."

*.*

The first day back to school has always been my least favorite day of the year, right next to my birthday. Do I need to be reminded that I'm getting older? Of course, it means I'm getting the hell out of high school soon, but it reminds me that if I don't find a guy soon, I might end up being single with a bunch of dogs. Yeah, not a big fan of cats, sadly.

While my best friend usually freaks over academics and not meeting up to the standards of Einstein, I'm wondering why I'm single. Hello, I'm fucking hilarious.

Right, I'm single because all the guys in this small high school are fucking douche bags, minus a few already taken ones. And I'm way too lazy to look for some guy at another school. Why can't they just find me?

Hence why I hate the first day of school; just another new day to see all these couples making out, again reminding me that I'm fucking alone.

"Gabriella?"

I coughed loudly, dragging out the sound a little longer than I should've, and turned around to face my best friend running up to me. I was nearly at the entrance of East High until she bombarded me with textbooks. What the hell? We didn't even get into school, and she already bought books? Let me just advise her how much I hate school. She'll take the books back then.

"Taylor," I scolded. "You do not need six text books for the first day." I pushed the books back into her chest and she groaned, grabbing them before they fell.

"Well excuse me for wanting our senior year to be fun." She scoffed, adding a small pout after she finished. I rolled my eyes.

"Work does not make our senior year fun." I said. "But you know what does make it fun?" She raised an eyebrow. "Slacking off."

She giggled, but I knew it was totally forced. "Easy for you to say, you're a genius. Everything comes easily to you."

I may have forgotten to mention that I had a perfect GPA, perfect grades, perfect brain. I couldn't help that I already knew everything, not to sound modest, but I do believe I'm very intelligent. Which is why slacking off for the final year will not hurt my chances of getting into Stanford at all.

"Can we just get to class now?" I asked. "I can't be seen outside with you holding all those books."

Taylor opened her mouth to speak, and it probably would've been some smart remark warning me how much it would help, but a very heavy, large, big, and massive, object clunked me right in the head, sending me forward onto the concrete.

"Fuck." I muttered, clutching desperately onto my throbbing head as Taylor knelt down beside me. She reached her hand out to me, but I abruptly stood up and glanced around the courtyard for the culprit.

Of course, there he was, walking toward me with his little group of friends, each individual smirking.

"Montez," He began. "I believe you have my ball."

I really, really wanted to laugh at that. Instead, I scoffed. "Throw something at me again; I'll personally remove your other one." I warned.

He chuckled, as did his friends and grabbed his basketball from the side of me. "You might want to put some ice on that." He said, just before he left. I couldn't even believe it. That was his comeback? What ever happened to the arrogant responses he had?

"Gabriella…" Taylor said. I turned around to face her and gave her a look. "I know you hate first days. So I'll be nice and not tell you ."

"If you think I understood that, you're mental." I told her.

She squinted an eye and clutched her books to her chest tightly. "You have a very visible red mark on the side of your face." She said cautiously, backing away.

My eyes widened and I quickly dug my phone out of my pocket, looking at the screen hastily.

"Bolton." I sneered, closing my fist around my phone.

I'm going to be single forever.

"I'm not even sure everyone got their lockers yet," I said. "So how did you get yours?"

Taylor turned from her locker and gave me a disapproving smile. "Are you asking to share?"

I chuckled. "No, I was literally asking how you got yours." Taylor's very smart, so she tends to put more thought in what I say than necessary.

She closed her locker while her eyes were still on me and shrugged. "I just did." She said.

I leaned against a random locker and crossed my arms over my chest. "You did it again, didn't you?" When she raised an eyebrow I continued, "You asked the principal, whom you're so close to, to give you your locker." I guessed.

She frowned. "I needed a place to keep my books. Since you wouldn't help me hold them." She snapped.

Taylor started walking away from me, so instinctively I ran up next to her and met her pace of speed. "If you're wondering, which I know you are, my day sucked so far."

She giggled. "We've only had two classes."

I perked up. "And you know who I have those classes with?" I asked, but before she could say anything, I opened my mouth. "Bolton. He was laughing at me the whole time." I sighed. "I'm pretty sure everyone thinks I was blushing."

Taylor slightly turned to me and bit her lip. "It doesn't look as bad as before." She assured.

I softly touched my cheek and gave it a small tap. "It's still noticeable."

"If I had makeup, I would offer some to you. But you know I don't do that cosmetic shit." Taylor said. I almost choked on air. Taylor, my Taylor, just cursed. Well, she refers it as a curse, I obviously don't.

"Excuse me?" I grabbed her arm and pulled her towards me. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

Taylor rolled her eyes and shrugged her way out of my grasp. "I did a lot of thinking, and I've come to a conclusion that I should mature this senior year."

I laughed. "Mature? Taylor, you're the most mature girl I know in this whole school. Why do you need to curse to be more mature?"

"You curse." She said. Well no fucking duh, I'm Gabriella Montez.

"And you don't." I said. "So don't randomly start, okay?" I know I'm probably exaggerating here, but I don't want my best friend changing because she thinks she has to be more like the lunkheads in this school. She's innocent; I want her to stay innocent.

She rolled her eyes again but nodded. "You should ask Sharpay for some makeup." She insisted.

I exhaled loudly and looked around the empty hallway. I must've not heard the bell. "I have some in my purse." Yes, I have a purse which contains some makeup. I may not speak like a lady, but I definitely dress like one. It's ironic, I know, but I'm not interested in wearing men attire. I'm perfectly content with dresses and skirts.

"Go to lunch," I told her. "I'll meet you there in a second."

She nodded and I could tell she was a little hesitant in leaving me alone, but she soon did, and I was off to the bathroom.

"Fuck, I'm sorry."

Again, I was physically knocked into by an object, only this time I was well aware it wasn't a basketball. No, it was just the owner of the basketball. Could my day get any worse?

"You can't watch where you're going, Bolton?" I sneered, lifting myself off the ground to pat down my black t-shirt and jeans. Troy grinned and gripped the basketball tightly to him.

"I'm sorry for saying sorry." He apologized with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.

"Can you just move out of my way?" I hissed.

He suddenly came very close to me, and I backed away slowly. I could practically feel his breath on my cheek. Whoa boy, invasion of privacy.

"Damn, my basketball really did a job on you." He chuckled, leaning away.

I mimicked his chuckle and shook my head annoyingly. "My basketball really did a job on you." I said in a deep voice, hitting him hard on the arm. "Fuck you, asshole."

Once I was finally away from that hallway, and him, I mentally cursed myself. That was our relationship, hatred in the form of childish insults. I don't know why, but every time I was around him, I talked like an idiot and embarrassed myself. I couldn't even properly manage a good insult.

"Does someone need my assistance?"

Oh, I've never been so happy in my life to hear that voice.

I looked away from the mirror in the bathroom and smiled happily. "Thank god," I sighed. "I can't cover it up."

"Hand it over." She said, her heels clicking against the tiles as she walked over to me. "Jesus, Gabs, how hard did he hit you?"

I giggled and handed her my cover up. "I have sensitive skin, Shar." I reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and squeezed the small tube, letting the substance flow on her finger. "Just leave it to him to ruin your day."

See, this is why Sharpay is my other best friend. She understands me, a lot more than Taylor does sadly. They're both completely different, but I couldn't live without them. I depend on them.

As the creamy makeup touched my cheek, I laughed helplessly. I was ticklish.

Sharpay laughed with me and continued rubbing it in. "One more year, than you won't have to see his ass again."

My eyes widened. How did she know I looked at his ass? "What?" I choked.

She raised an eyebrow and pulled away a finger. "You won't have to see him again." She repeated.

Wow, I'm an idiot. "Right, yeah, never again." I sighed and turned to face the mirror. The mark was still there, but baby, it was a whole lot better than before.

"You look fine," She said, wrapping an arm around me and looking at the mirror as well. "Perfecto."

I smiled, staring back at our reflections. I had my natural curls let loose, which probably extended all the way down to my elbow, and Sharpay had her blonde locks straightened freely. I had to admit, we kind of looked hot.

Abruptly, Sharpay pulled away from me and gripped my shoulders, turning me around to face her.

"Did you know Taylor said shit?" She whispered.

I softly nodded. "Our little girl's growing up." I sniffed.

"She said it like, five times." Sharpay took her hand away from me and started fanning herself. "Gabi, she's starting to say it more than you."

I nodded again. "Speaking of Taylor, we should probably get back to her. I can't imagine what she's saying to the lunch ladies."

I can just picture it now;

Shit, what is this food? I didn't ask for this shit. It looks like shit. Ugly, nasty, old, shit. I demand different shit.

And that's why, I ran out of that bathroom in a damn hurry.

"Taylor, why the fuck are you sitting here?"

Taylor turned around from her lunch and quirked an eyebrow. "Am I not allowed to sit where I want?"

Next to me, Sharpay had the same expression on her face. I was starting to wonder what happened to our Taylor.

"We usually sit at 'Bolton's table', you know, so he doesn't get a chance to sit there." I stated. Taylor rolled her eyes. I gasped. She didn't just roll her eyes at me, did she? That ball must've made me see things. Oh, look, a unicorn-

"It's just pointless sitting there, Gabriella." She said. Oh god, she said my full name. Not good. "And it's pointless that you fight with him."

"It's not pointless, Taylor." Sharpay spoke up. "He's a dick, he deserves it."

Taylor shrugged, turning back to her food. I glanced at Sharpay and we exchanged frightening looks.

"Tay," I said, sitting down next to her. Sharpay took the other side. "What's gotten into you lately?"

She stared down at her food. "Nothing has gotten into me lately. Maybe I'm just sick of all this drama."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Taylor set down her fork on the tray angrily and stood up from the table, keeping her hands locked on the table. "You and Bolton are going to ruin my senior year with the bickering, and I don't want to deal with it." She said. I literally felt like someone punched me in the stomach, repeatedly. "If you two don't work this shit out on your own," There she goes saying shit again. "I promise you will regret it."

As she stomped away from the table, I looked over at Bolton sitting down at – our table – with a large smirk covering his face. He must've known I was looking at him, because he looked up and winked cockily at me before retreating back to his group.

Oh god, now I felt like I was going to puke.

"I can't believe-"

"Gabriella, dear,"

Ugh, seriously, she needs to say dear, again? It's one thing to interrupt me; it's another to call me by something I despise.

"What?" I asked.

"I'm afraid our session for today is over," She said. Oh, time flew fast. "We'll continue this tomorrow."

I nodded. If this was the only time we had a day, she would be spending the rest of her life with me. When I say it's a long story, I mean it really is a long story.

So here it is, my new story! Did you guys like it? Or is it just plain ollll stupid? Yeah, Gabriella is a little different from normal stories. She's not really shy and everything, more like outgoing and very blunt. I love her :D But what do you guys think? I also know that the idea of them hating each other is way overused, but that's the only way I could think of writing this story correctly. You guys are probably REALLY confused, but I promise that it will make complete sense next chapter. And the title of the story, it doesn't mean that Gabriella has the last name Bolton obviously. Becuase she's still Gabriella Montez. Just like Troy is Troy Bolton. You'll be like "OH" when you realize what it means. And if you understand the summary really good, you know what's going on. Anyway, Review please! I just wanna know that people are at least reading it :)