High School Afterparty; Disneyfied, UnDisneyfied.
A.N: This starts directly after Sharpay and Zeke's cookie-creme-brulee thing. I wrote this while listening to my mp3 player. You'll probably be able to tell when it switched from Gwen Stefani to Evanescence…
Gabriella and Troy were in Troy's car, driving somewhere, after the basketball game, the Scholastic Decathalon and the Twinkletowne call-backs.
"So, where are we going?" Gabriella asked, hoping that Troy was going to take her to a café or something.
"The after-party," Troy replied shortly. "It's at Zeke's house. It'll be like at the ski resort, only louder music and no karaoke. Uh, Gabriella, I don't wanna be rude, but I've got to concentrate on driving. Can you keep quiet, please?"
"Sure," Gabriella replied. After all, the thoughts running through her mind at three thousand miles per hour were hardly the type she'd want to spill out, especially to Troy Bolton, über jock and 'hottie-superbomb'.
Will I know anyone lese there?
Are my dress/hair/jewellery/shoes all right?
IS THIS A DATE?
DOES TROY LIKE ME???
E equals MC2
What if there's alcohol and/or drugs there?
If Troy likes me, and this is a date, will he try to kiss me again?
Where's that darned breathmint?
V equals IR
It's a party, right? Should I have brought a present?
Relax, Gabi, says Taylor's voice, it's not a birthday party and you couldn't have known that the Wildcats would win.
After another quarter of an hour, Troy pulled up in front of a stately brick house. "Here we are," he announced brightly.
Troy led Gabriella to Zeke's basement, where techno music blared from expensive-looking speakers. Gabriella scanned the sea of peroxide-blonde cheerleaders glumly. Oh, no, wait a minute – over there, by the punch bowl, next to Chad Danforth's easily recognisable 'fro – Taylor!
Gabriella felt extremely relieved that she was not the only nerd there. Then she remembered Taylor's excitement after Chad asked her out, so she wasn't terribly surprised when she looked closer and saw that Chad and Taylor were practially making out. More than a few jealous cheerleaders were shooting venomous looks at East High's newest couple.
"Holy …" Troy began to say as he stared in the opposite direction. Gabriella followed his gaze. There was Zeke, standing in front of – was that a washing machine? – with a peroxide blonde sitting on said 21st century laundry necessity, legs spread. Gabriella didn't see what was so surprising. Didn't Zeke go for cheerleaders?
Then Gabriella got a better look at the blonde, and her mouth fell open. It was Sharpay. "Exactly," she agreed with Troy. There had to be drugs here if Sharpay was kissing Zeke, right? Who had made the guacamole dip? Oh, right … Zeke. Zeke wouldn't spike the food he made himself, right? Even so, Gabriella made a mental note not to eat anything until after she left.
Which, if the music became any louder, would be quite soon. Almost immediately after Gabriella had processed this thought, the music stopped as the CD reached its end.
Zeke disengaged himself from Sharpay with difficulty. She clung to him like a limpet as he moved over to the stereo. The crowd emitted a loud groan as Zeke, grinning, flashed around the new CD case – it was a compilation of various Disney songs – songs that came perilously close, in Chad's opinion, to songs from Broadway.
"Care to dance?" Troy asked.
Gabriella glanced at the still-crowded dancefloor, to which Cad and Taylor had moved and begun dancing upon. "Oh, why not?" she said, smiling shyly. It was not normal for champion jocks to ask champion nerds to dance…
"When you wish upon a star," Troy hummed along good-naturedly as they took up traditional dancing poses.
By the end of the song, they were both slightly out of breath and Gabriella was amazed that Troy had not stood on her toes.
Troy, however, laughed it off. "I'm a basketballer, Gabriella," he reminded her. "I have to be good with my feet." Somehow, he managed to not sound as though he was boasting."
"Gabby, babes," interrupted a particularly buxom cheerleader, "could I steal Troy for a moment?"
"Um," Troy said.
"Knock yourself out," said 'Gabby,' her bright smile decidedly flase. She knew that once she let Troy go, he would do the 'nice guy' thing and dance with every cheerleader who asked him, and Gabriella would be regulated to the punch bowl. Ah well, at least she'd brought a book to read, and Disney was much nicer to listen to at seventy decibels than the Justin Timberlake that had been blaring out before. Unfortunately, she was stuck here until Troy sought her out, as she had arrived with him and had no way of getting home without him. Sigh …
When the next song finished, Gabriella became aware of a shadow falling across her book (Jane Austen's Persuasion) Setting her jaw, she looked up to inform the impudent intruder than their interruption was unwanted, but the words stuck in her throat. It was Troy. She stood up hurriedly.
"'Babes,'" Troy repeated, eyebrows raised. "I hadn't realised that Cheerleader-speak was so … weird."
"Don't even think about calling me 'Gabby,'" Gabriella spat. "I happen to like my full name, thank you very much."
"It's classy," Troy commented. "Uh, if you're not … you know, enjoying yourself, we can leave if you'd like."
Gabriella knew she should really stay, if only to say 'Hi' to Taylor when she surfaced – where had Taylor and Chad got to, anyway? Gabriella had lost sight of them – but getting away from this terrible loud music sounded like a much better plan. So they left.
Troy didn't drive Gabriella straight home. They made a stop at a pretty little park a few miles from Gabriella's house. It had a basketball court, which Gabriella suspected was the only reason Troy knew it existed. Troy pulled a picnic blanket from the trunk of his car. Gabriella noted that, apart from their schoolbags, he also had a first-aid kit, some plastic bottles of a clear liquid she hoped was just water, a basketball, a bicycle pump, a tyre-jack and a spare tyre in there.
They spread the blanket out under the shade of a large pine tree and sprawled under it.
"Are you glad that the big game is over?" Gabriella asked. "No more pressure, and all that?"
"No more pressure," Troy agreed. "Although, I can't say I'm looking forward to letting Mom and Dad know that their son the basketball player is playing the lead in the school musical." He appeared genuinely perturbed.
"Tell me about them," Gabriella said, sitting up. 'And tell me all about you; all the sordid little details you wouldn't even tell Chad.
Troy grinned at her. "All right."
Gabriella was taken aback; she hadn't expected him to rise to her challenge.
"My folks went to East High. That was where they met. Dad was Captain of the basketball team. Mom was a cheerleader. They went to prom together, and I just realised how much that sounds like a movie. Dad got a sporting scholarship to an Ivy League college – I can't remember which one – and somehow ended up being sports administrator and basketball coach at his alma mater."
Was it Gabriella's imagination, or did Troy sound a little bitter as he talked about his father?
"Mom stayed in Albuquerque. She was a hairdresser. They met up again at their five-year reunion and fell in love again. Dad took Mom to New York and proposed in the Hard Rock Café, then it was boom, off to Hawaii for the honeymoon. Twleve moths later, along came me. Mom hasn't worked since she got married, and she's fairly tolerant of the basketball thing. So, there you have it."
"What about you?" Gabriella persisted. "Pretty much all I know about you is that almost everyone sees you as 'the basketball guy.'"
"I don't have any natural talent," Troy muttered. "Dad's just a good and dedicated coach, that's all. He's drilled plays into me since I could catch a beach ball. It's all we really ever talk about."
"Surely that's not true," Gabriella said, shocked. "For one thing, why would he coach you with such dedication if you couldn't play? Would you be Captain of the top team in the school if you couldn't play? He wants you to do well, that's all. The NBA pays megabucks."
"So he keeps telling me."
"You know, there was TV show I used to watch as a kid, and in one episode, all the males talked in sports metaphors," Gabriella said lightly, as she rolled over to lie on her stomach, propping herself up with her elbows. "Some of them were basketball ones. Your dad might have been doing that. Who knows; he may not know who else to express himself. He might have been uncomfortable saying whatever it was in straight terms."
"Thank you, Doctor Freud," Troy quipped. "No, really, thank, Gabriella. Most people I know – even my mom – wouldn't have been able – or taken the time – to reassure me like that."
"Anytime," Gabriella smiled.
"Enough about me," Troy said with an air of absolute finality. "What about you and your family?"
Gabriella grimaced. "My parents are divorced."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Troy said at once. "I didn't mean –"
"Don't be," Gabriella said flatly, cutting him off. "My father isn't a very nice person."
Troy was silent.
Gabriella would not cry. She wouldn't. "He was addicted to heroin. He was an alcoholic. Whenever he was sober, he –" she broke off as tears spilled from her eyes. She hid her face in her hands. Instantly, Troy's hand was on her back, rubbing soothingly as she wept. "Whenever he was sober," she choked out, "he would ask Mom for money. If she wouldn't give it to him, he turned violent. On Thanksgiving, when I was eight, he'd wrestled the electric carving knife from Mom. He – he threatened to kill her if she didn't give him one thousand dollars. I jumped up and dashed between them, trying to get to the power-point and the phone. As I went, Dad lunged forwards and stabbed me in the side." Gabriella's tears poured out afresh and her shoulders heaved.
Troy was feeling pretty rotten. He'd been complaining about how he didn't deserve his social status and here was Gabriella, whispering that she had an abusive father.
"Dad fled and Mom dialled 911," Gabriella continued. "I lost a lot of blood. Some of my inside organs had to be stitched up. I still have the scar on my belly. I haven't worn a bikini or seen Dad since. We were in New York at the time, and he's in jail now. The divorce wasn't terribly messy – Mon had good grounds, and she had no problems getting custody of me – and I threw myself into my schoolwork – I had to have an escape, you see."
Suddenly Gabriella's will broke. Using her crossed arms as a pillow, she lay flat on the rug and sobbed.
With speed more appropriate for a cross-country athlete, Troy dashed back to the car, rummaged around in the glove compartment and dashed back to Gabriella's side. By now, she was in the foetal position, all but sucking her thumb as the repressed memories made their presence known in her mind. Troy held out the box of tissues, feeling utterly helpless and inadequate.
"Sorry to burden you with all that," Gabriella said once she'd composed herself.
"You can't help you father being who he is," Troy said firmly. "Do you want a hug?"
Gabriella attempted to smile at the debonair question, bur it ended up looking as though she merely had toothache. However, she came easily into Troy's warm, strong embrace. It was some time later that they returned to the car. In fact, as Troy pulled into the Montezes' driveway, the sun was about to set.
Troy walked a still-distraught Gabriella to her front door. She produced her keys from her purse like a magician conjuring a rabbit from a hat. After unlocking the door, she turned back to face Troy. "Thanks for singing with me, and being so understanding about my father," she said softly.
"I have dad trouble too," Troy pointed out.
This time, Gabriella did manage a weak smile. "Well, I guess I'll see you on Monday," she said with false vigour and brightness.
Go for it, man! yelled Chad's voice in Troy's head. Gabriella made to hug him goodbye, but he tipped her chin up with one hand and kissed her.
Gabriella slipped her arms around his neck. It seemed the natural thing to do, for she had never been kissed before – at least, not on the lips. One of Troy's hands rested on the small of Gabriella's back, and the other, the one that had tipped her face up, was cupping her cheek. The kiss was sweet and gentle, just like Troy had been all afternoon.
Eventually, due to the fact that humans do need to take in oxygen, they broke apart. Gabriella blushed while Troy looked sheepish.
"See you Monday," he agreed and walked back to his car.
Gabriella felt like she was floating on air. She'd finally told someone the truth about her dad – usually, she said he was dead or in another state – and Troy had understood. He'd also kissed her. She felt like she was floating, that is, until after she'd had her dinner and gone upstairs to do her homework, only to realise that she'd left her bag in the trunk of Troy's car. Oh dear.
A.N: Wow, that's the kind of angst I usually reserve for Severus Snape-centric fics. I must have had Evanescence up really loud when I wrote this. I'm not entirely happy with how I wrote Troy (which might have something to do with that little movie called HSM2, which gave us a lot more to work with). The equations running through Gabriella's mind were her attempt to calm herself down using distraction tactics. Reviews are always appreciated.