I'm not normally sucked into these kind of phads but HSM is so great! fer cryin' out loud. Enjoy the story. I may not finish it cus I'm just doing it to sort out some thoughts and to waste time. But if people read I'll consider completing it. Troyella, some Troypay. This is how High School Musical would've turned out if Gabriella was a much darker character and they hadn't met on vacation. Written in Gabriella's point of view. I apologise for mistakes, just point them out and I'll change it. Anyhoo, on with the show.

"Are you Gabriella?"

The books in my arms went flying as I jumped at the voice. Now I don't want you to get the impression that I'm some kind of spaz that jumps and flinches at any kind of social interaction. It was just the prospect of starting over again in a new and scary environment. It's horrible, my stomach convulses, my hands get sweaty, my legs feel shaky. Basically I'm a twitchy, nauseous, sweaty, shaky mess, put together in the approximation of a teenage girl.

I felt a surge of annoyance for the person who had crept up behind me. Didn't they know that any kind of unexpected noise would send me into a nervous spasm?

Looking back, I wonder how my life would've turned out if I had been in a slightly better mood that day. Would it have been easier or harder for me if I'd just been nice to him? Of course, being the sort of person who never seems to be able to see past what I might have for lunch, I wasn't thinking about the consequences of my temper.

"Don't creep up on someone like that?!" I screamed at the unfortunate boy. I could tell without turning around that he was slightly startled at my reaction to his simple question. I'm ashamed to say that it gave me a grim sense of satisfaction. Being short in stature meant it was hard to appear intimidating let alone make someone scared of you.

"Sorry," he mumbled apologetically. I could hear students laughing at me from the sidelines of the corridors. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, I was there five minutes and I was already marked as the geeky spaz girl. Just wait until they hear about my grade point average. I'll never have any friends.

I kept my head down, maybe if they didn't get a clear view of my face they'd all just forget about the spazzy new girl. The boy handed me the books I couldn't reach and eventually, after covering my embarrassment by pretending to organise my books into an order in my arms, I felt brave enough to look up. I was met with concerned blue eyes shaded by hair that was way too long and a muscular body that I could just image cheerleaders swooning over. Great. A jock.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," I said curtly. I don't know why I was being so bitchy that day, it must've been something in my orange juice that morning.

"Great," he smiled. My heart jumped and I felt myself give him a little smirk. I quickly put a stop to that sort of thinking. Jocks were no good. "I'm Troy, are you Gabriella?" he smiled again and I managed not reciprocate and instead put on my best superior face. The people watching began to dissipate as they realised that the show was over.

"Yes,"

"I'm showing you around today," he said. His smile faded at my coldness, I began to miss it instantly. "Do you know where your locker is?"

"No," I said. It had been what I was looking for before this whole incident had begun.

"What number is it?" he asked kindly. The smile had resurfaced and I felt relieved that I hadn't squashed it out of existence.

"251," I replied. It was then that I thought that the sooner I could get rid of Troy the easier my life would become. He was making me feel even more flustered than I already was. And to add insult to injury I was actually caring if I hurt his feelingsor not. Like Jocks had feelings.

"Here," he said and took my books off me, carrying them easily under one arm.

Show-off.

I followed him obediently, taking two steps to every one of his strides. He was so goddam tall. And he needed a haircut. His clothes looked like he got them out of a tramp's wardrobe and he swaggered as if he was king of the school. He probably was. We passed a group of cheerleaders who stopped to flirt, giggle and stare at me in equal amounts. To his credit he did look appropriately awkward at their attention and quickly made the excuse of showing me around to leave.

"They are nice, all the girls are nice here, you'll make friends in no time," he must've picked on my nervousness. Unfortunately, his words did nothing to quell my fears. For the girls may well be nice to him but how they react to me will be a completely different matter. I smiled politely and stayed silent.

After we'd reached my locker and I'd learnt the combination and put everything away, he showed me the gym, the cafeteria, and our homeroom then he brought me to my first lesson. Chemistry. I practically scurried away from him to get into the sanctity of the lab. Boys made me nervous. Boys I liked made me doubly nervous and a bit snappy. Fortunately, I think I confused him enough to make him leave me alone for the rest of my life plus he looked like a kicked puppy when I walked into the classroom without even saying a "see ya later".

I'm not a mean person, I just think it's best for everyone not to have to witness me flirt.

"Hey!"

I yelped and my books went flying in all directions.

"Sorry!" he apologised before I could hiss and draw my claws. He collected my books and brought them back to my arms with a huge grin on his annoyingly handsome face.

He thought it was funny.

Bastard.

I scowled at him. "You know if the wind blows your face will stay like that," he said.

Why is he talking to me? Why won't he leave me alone?

I ignored him and started walking home again, leaving him standing there. Some boys just don't get the message but Troy got the idea and let me go.

At least that's what I thought. After a while I realised there were too many footsteps to go with how many feet I had. I whipped around. There he was. A few feet back. He grinned and waved and I huffed and brushed the hair out of my face. I spun around and started walking faster.

He started walking faster. It was easier for him. He had longer legs.

Eventually I got frustrated and turned to face him. "What do you want?" I sighed in defeat.

"Can I walk you home?" he chuckled boyishly.

"My house is there," I said pointing to a few doors up.

"Can I walk you to your door?"

"No,"

He frowned slightly. "Can I walk you to your gate?"

"No,"

It had got to the point where I can't remember why I didn't want him hanging around me. There was the jock thing, obviously, but there was something more. I looked at him trying to figure me out and all I saw was him trying to find different ways to chat up the pretty new girl. I'm pretty. I know I am. My mother says it's a gift but I just see it as a curse. I envy the girls with an odd nose or large feet, or a slightly crooked smile. The guys who go out with them have taken the time to see their personality, the guys that I have gone out with in the past have seen me as some kind of shiny accessory. This Troy person couldn't possibly like me for my personality for as far as I was concerned I haven't shown him any yet.

"Can I walk you to that tree?" he indicated to a apple tree sapling a few steps away.

I studied the sapling practically a metre away from my feet. Then studied the grinning idiot in front of me.

"Fine," I said.

"Wait!" he yelled as I made to move. He trotted up so that he was standing beside me. "Ok," and we walked a few steps.

Then we stopped. "Thank you," I said.

"The pleasure was all mine," he said.

I was appalled to hear a giggle escape my mouth. He chuckled, waved and left.

oo