A/N: So this is based loosely off of 'Judas' by Lady Gaga :D
The ending is a little rushed but I wanted to get it finished. I hope you enjoy it because I enjoyed writing it :D
Judas
"I can't believe you slept with her," I yelled, pacing up and down in his bedroom. "Actually," I muttered, turning to face Troy, "I can believe it. I can believe it because this is what? The fifth time you've done it. What I can't believe is that I was stupid enough to believe that this would actually work."
I'd been in this same situation too many times before. Unsurprisingly, I didn't even cry. I wasn't even mad at him. How could I be? He was stupid enough to cheat but I was stupid enough to let him. If I was going to be mad at anyone, I was going to be mad at myself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He stared at me imploringly with his blue eyes, begging for forgiveness. Those blue eyes were one of the reasons why I fell in love with him.
Those blue eyes were one of the reasons why I was addicted to him.
I shook my head. "But you're not. If you were, you wouldn't have done it in the first place."
Troy stood up from his bed and padded over to me. He held my face in his hands, his rough, calloused fingers caressing my cheeks. I struggled against his hold, but he wouldn't let me go. "El, look at me."
I refused to meet his gaze. I looked anywhere I could. I didn't have many options considering he was holding my face but I wasn't going to succumb to what power he knew he had over me. I closed my eyes, determined not to let him get to me. I knew that if I looked into those hypnotic, ocean blue orbs, I'd be putty in his hands. He'd persuade me to do anything. I knew that if I looked into those eyes, I'd forgive him.
And I couldn't do that. Not again.
I opened my eyes and then forced myself out of his embrace. "No," I said sternly. "Troy, I love you. And you abuse that. Taylor and Sharpay have told me over and over again that I'm stupid but I wouldn't listen. I made excuses for you. I came back to you because I honestly thought you would change. So much for being the freaky genius girl."
Troy sighed. "Don't do this," he pleaded.
"Why?" I yelled. After all of the anger and frustration that accumulated over the two years of being involved with Troy Bolton, I finally snapped. I didn't care that I loved him. I didn't care that I'd given my virginity to him. I didn't care that, for the past two years, I'd lived for the moments when we were together. None of that mattered anymore. "Give me one good reason why I should even consider giving you another chance."
Troy faltered.
"That's what I thought," I muttered before I turned around and stalked out of his bedroom, bumping into his mother, Lucille, at the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, Gabriella," she exclaimed. "I was just going to come upstairs. Is everything okay? I heard yelling."
I glanced at Troy who was hovering halfway up the stairs. I sighed. "Everything's fine. Excuse me, Mrs Bolton, I have to get home."
Without waiting for a response, I pushed my way past her and left the house. Troy Bolton was an anomaly. Well, he was an anomaly to me. To everybody else, he wasn't worth much. Sure, he was basketball captain, expected to go to U of A on a basketball scholarship, and become an international basketball superstar. But, that's all they saw. They saw a jock. And, although in East High that's a big deal, nobody saw what I saw.
I saw a guy who was confused. He was pressured by the school to lead the basketball team to glory. And he had. But, he didn't want that kind of pressure his entire life. There was more to him than just basketball. He wanted to show people that he wasn't just a jock. But, he was a scared little boy. He didn't want his friends to reject him.
But, overall, he was just a popular kid who barely passed his junior year to everyone else.
And I'd spent two years of my life on him. Two years that I'd never get back. I'd like to say that it was worth it. I'd like to say that the good times are worth more than the bad. But, he lied. He broke promises. He betrayed me. And now I could finally see him for what he was: a coward. He was scared. He was terrified. For the past two years, he'd been in a constant dilemma: he wanted me, but he didn't want commitment.
I'm not saying that I'm all that. I'm not. Since I kept going back to Troy after he slept with another girl, I had gained a reputation for being desperate. But, Troy knew I was good for him. His grades improved when I helped him to study. He didn't drink as much. He didn't have detention as much.
But that didn't matter. Because he wanted to have me, he just didn't want to be committed to me.
All of this time, my best friends had warned me not to bother with him. They told me to run in the other direction because this is what he does. He gets under your skin, makes you feel like the most important thing in the world, and he abuses it.
I knew that he expected me to forgive him. And that was the problem. The more I forgave him, the more he was going to do it. Because the more you say 'I'm sorry' for the same thing, the more meaningless it becomes.
And I finally stopped believing him.
Mierda. (A/N: Shit)
I guess the relationship (that word is used in the loosest term possible) that I shared with Troy began in the middle of a tornado of emotions. I didn't know what I felt, I didn't know what I should feel, and Troy was the person caught in the tornado with me. I went to school a week after my grandmother had lost her battle with breast cancer. Through the blurred tears and the honest need to get out of the claustrophobic school, I bumped into Troy. He helped me with my books, took me for coffee and I was hooked. I couldn't be without him. All I wanted was him: his eyes, his voice...even his smell. All of my life, I've been just a face in the hall, anonymous, a face in a class picture without a name. So when he talked to me, cared for me, loved me, I loved him back.
I looked over my shoulder, seeing that Troy was nowhere in sight. A part of me was upset by that. It would've been nice to be chased after; to know that he actually wanted me back. But, then again, part of me was glad. I wouldn't be tempted to go back to him.
Again.
I pulled my car to a stop in the East High student parking lot. It had been a long weekend. It turned out that Troy did want me back. At least, the twenty voicemail messages and thirty six texts indicated that he did. Still, I stood my ground. I wasn't willing to expose myself to feeling used, hurt and worthless again. I had to focus on my career. I couldn't just drop everything and run every time that Troy called me.
Relationships weren't supposed to work like that.
I grabbed my books and my bag and climbed out of my VW bug. After locking my car, I headed towards the large building which loomed in front of me, decked with red and white banners. Usually, the over-the-top school colour decorations cheered me up. They made me feel a part of something. But, today, they sickened me. They reminded me of Troy.
I pushed my way through the throng of students and stepped into the crowded lobby. People tried to act natural, but I could see how they were whispering. They were whispering about me.
I approached my locker, seeing that my best friends, Sharpay and Taylor, were waiting for me. I held my hand up. "Not one word. From either of you." I looked around at the way that the other students were glancing at me and whispering to each other. "It's official. I hate social networks." I yanked my locker open and began sorting my books out.
Sharpay sighed. "Well, at the risk of you slapping me, I'd just like to say, as your best friends slash sisters, we're over the moon that you finally kicked him to the curb."
I shrugged. "I can't do it anymore. I mean, the first time, I figured it was a mistake and that he was sorry. But, how many times can a person say sorry and mean it?" I shut my locker and leant against it. "I learnt the hard way that the answer is once. You can't keep apologising for the same thing." I looked across at Taylor and Sharpay. "I hope that karma comes around and kicks that cabrón (A/N: bastard) in his puto culo (A/N: fucking arse)."
Taylor smiled. "There's the Gabriella we know and love."
I averted my eyes and hugged my chemistry book to my chest. "It doesn't matter. I'm not going back. It's killing me but I've got my finals to concentrate on and graduation and Stanford. I don't want him in my life anymore."
But that doesn't mean I don't need him.
Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Please, he'll probably jump straight into bed with the nearest thing with a vagina."
Taylor nudged Sharpay's arm. "Such a charming way with words so early on a morning."
Sharpay stuck her tongue out. "It's true, isn't it, Gabi?"
I shrugged half heartedly. "That seems to be a theme with Troy's life."
"Hey, Gabs," Chad murmured. I looked at the tall African-American male who was stood next to Taylor. He was Troy's best friend and it had only taken a while for him to take on a brotherly role in my life. Although his hair seemed more untameable than ever, he was still sporting a bright t-shirt, I couldn't help but notice that he wasn't holding a basketball like he usually did. He was flanked by Zeke and Jason, two more of Troy's friends and basketball players.
"Hey," I muttered.
Zeke sighed. "We're sorry about what happened."
I shrugged. "At least I know that you guys actually mean it. Do you know what's funny? I've always loved lessons. I loved learning new stuff. Not this one, though. I didn't enjoy having to go through it five times before I finally understood."
"If it makes you feel any better, I don't like learning something once," Jason offered.
I cracked a small smile when Sharpay hit Jason in the stomach. "It doesn't matter. It's over. All I have to do is survive until I leave for Stanford in a week."
My friends were silent for a moment. "He doesn't know, does he?" Taylor asked slowly.
In normal circumstances, I would've feigned stupidity. I would've acted like I didn't know what she was talking about. But, I honestly couldn't be bothered. So, instead, I shook my head. "Well, he knows I got accepted to Stanford. I just never told him I was going before graduation. I mean, even before I found out he cheated again, I knew I couldn't tell him because he'd just persuade me to stay. Guys, you can't tell him. Promise me."
Everyone nodded reassuringly except Sharpay.
Gabriella sighed. "Shar, promise me."
Taylor and Chad elbowed Sharpay at the same time. The blonde groaned in frustration. "Fine. I promise I'll try not to tell him. But, you know that when I'm pissed off with someone, I have no control over the words that leave my mouth. And 'pissed off' doesn't even begin to cover how I'm feeling right now."
Taylor rolled her eyes. "How you feel? What about Gabi?"
Sharpay's eyes softened when she looked at me. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
I nodded. "I know."
Before anyone else could say something, a voice outside of our conversation spoke. "Ella," Troy whispered.
We all looked at him. For two years, he had been a drug to me. He'd made me feel so high with happiness I could swear I could fly. But, then, I knew, deep down in my heart, that he'd hurt me. That he'd destruct me. That he'd eventually kill me. I so badly wanted to have him back. But what good would that do? He'd do exactly the same thing again. I knew he would. Why wouldn't he? He knew I'd keep going back. That's what got me here in the first place.
Zeke stepped towards Troy and pushed him back a few steps. "Get away from her," he growled.
Oh, the fucking irony of it all. On the basketball court, Troy was in control of everything. With just one glance, his team mates did what Troy wanted. Because that's what Troy did. That's what Troy wanted. That's what Troy needed. He needed to be in control of everything and everybody in his life because, quite frankly, he didn't want to be hurt. There was that scared little boy again. But, here, in the school hallway, the whole student body seemed to slow down and stop. They fell silent to watch Troy Bolton's best friends, and best teammates, turn on him in order to protect me. Me, the girl who couldn't seem to stop forgiving the guy who couldn't seem to stop hurting her.
Troy frowned. "Dude, I just want to talk to her. Get out of my way."
Jason stepped up, next to Zeke. "I don't get a lot of things. Like math. I don't get math and I never will. But, I know I'm not the only one who doesn't get why you hurt Gabi."
"If you just let me talk to her-" Troy began, gesturing to me.
Chad gave a harsh laugh. "Give me a break. Like she would give you the time of day. Right, Gabi?"
I nodded slowly. "Troy," I whispered, well aware of the audience we had gained. "I told you everything I had to say. And I know that any words that you want to say to me are lies. Because that's all you seem capable of doing."
Troy frowned. "Just let me explain."
"Explain what?" I yelled. For the first time in our relationship, I saw him flinch. That scared little boy I knew was hiding behind the macho exterior was finally shining through in all of his glory. I pushed past Chad, Zeke and Jason and stared up at Troy. "You've been weaselling your way out of these situations for two years and I'm done with it." I shook my head and felt a tear leak from my left eyes. "Go to hell, gilipollas (A/N: asshole)."
Troy rolled his eyes. "And the inner bitch of the goody-two shoes finally rears her head."
I gave a harsh laugh. "Inner bitch? Give me a break you hijo de puta (A/N: son of a bitch). You're the one who got us into this desmadre (A/N: fucked up mess)!"
"Detention," a voice bellowed.
Troy and I both turned to see Ms Gonzalez. My luck. The one time I curse in my mother tongue, I get caught by my Spanish teacher. Out of the amount of teachers at East High, why did she have to hear it? I shuffled my feet. "Lo siento, señorita (A/N: I'm sorry, Miss)," I whispered.
I saw Ms Gonzalez raise an eyebrow at Troy. "You, too, Mr Bolton."
Troy sighed. "I'm sorry, too, Miss." Suffice to say that Troy wasn't as fluent with Spanish as I was. Even so, I don't think even he had a problem translating what I called him.
Life is cruel. I'd ensured that my school record was squeaky clean so that I was all set to get my scholarship to Stanford. And here I was, mere weeks from graduation, sitting in detention. Ms Gonzalez was silently marking some students' assignments at her desk and Troy and I were instructed not to even look at each other.
Good. I didn't want to look at him anyway.
I was reading my book. Well, I knew that actually reading it was ambitious when I'd taken it out of my bag. I mean, after discovering that Troy had cheated on me, the pure, white hot anger that hadn't left me in days, and with the resulting scene in the hallway, it was hard to focus on the words running along the page. All I could see in my head was me finding those stupid lacy panties that were definitely not mine. The funny thing was that I'd caught him in exactly the same situation so many times that he never even tried to deny it.
"Gabi," a voice whispered.
I jumped, looking up from my book. I smiled sadly at Ms Gonzalez. "Hola, señorita (A/N: Hello, Miss)."
She was sat at the desk beside me. She was only a young teacher. Only qualified a few years ago. To many, including me, she was more of a friend than a teacher. She occupied herself for a moment by tying her red hair up in a messy bun. "Do you want to talk?"
I looked over at Troy. He glanced at me but then I spied earphones in his ears and I knew that he might as well have been deaf. I turned back to Ms Gonzalez. "I've felt mierda for the want of a better word ever since I found out." I sighed, wiping my eyes. "Señorita, I don't what to do. Every time, I promise myself that I won't let him hurt me. But then I look at him and I'm right back to where I was before."
Ms Gonzalez frowned. "Did you...Gabi, did you get back with him?"
I scoffed. "Did I, hell! What I said in the hallway is true. I want karma to kick him where the sun doesn't shine. I want him to rot in hell and feel the same agony that he caused me. But, me saying no doesn't mean I stop loving him. I'm still in love with him, I still think about him." I shook my head to myself. "Every time I look at him, I think of reasons why I should keep giving him chances. But, then I remember how he makes me feel when this happens, and I remember why I shouldn't."
Ms Gonzalez looked over at Troy who was bobbing his head to the rhythm of his music. Ms Gonzalez was one of the more lenient teachers who gave detention. Most just made you sit in silence. Ms Gonzalez didn't care what you did as long as you were quiet. She looked back at me. "I'm not sure what to say, Gabi."
I shrugged. "I get that a lot. I'm tired of trying to be with someone who isn't trying to be with me."
"You're a Christian, aren't you?" she asked quietly.
I nodded. "Yeah. I go to church every Sunday."
"Well isn't Jesus all about forgiveness, no matter what the person did?" she asked.
I nodded slowly. "He is. But I think that only works when the person is truly repenting. Troy doesn't seem to be." I sighed. "But, it's okay. Because remember when I asked you for a reference for my Stanford application?"
Ms Gonzalez smiled. "What about it?"
Despite how suckish the recent events had left me feeling, I couldn't stop the smile pulling at my lips. "They said yes." I lowered my voice to a whisper, paranoid that Troy would overhear. "And they've invited me to go there next week for early orientation and study with some of their top professors. So, I'm going to be a thousand miles away and he won't be able to control me anymore."
Ms Gonzalez smiled. "Good for you. After what you've told me, you deserve to do something for yourself now."
I sighed. "Do you know what truly sucks? He doesn't even know what he does to me. He hurts me and all he has to do is say my name and I'm running back into his arms. And I can't live like that anymore. When he finds out that I'm leaving this coming week, he's going to go insane. He won't want me to leave. But I don't have a choice. Because if I stay here, I won't ever leave and I'm going to spend my whole life getting hurt."
Ms Gonzalez pursed her lips. "It's the hardest dilemma, isn't it? You want to love him, but the only way you can do that is by knowing that he'll hurt you. We've all been there. I think what you're doing by leaving is good for you and for Troy. You're going to have space to figure out what exactly you feel for him and he'll know that you're not going to wait forever for him."
I nodded slowly. "I know. That's exactly why I'm doing it."
For a reason I didn't know, Troy was avoiding me. After enduring detention, he didn't even bother to try and talk to me. He left me alone. I suppose that's a good thing but after everything we'd been through, it was kind of a letdown, thinking that he didn't even care that it was over for good.
At home, I didn't talk to my dad or my mom, I headed straight for my bedroom and turned to my math homework. Math was logical. There were no surprises. It simply made sense, even when nothing else didn't. In math, I could justify my actions. I knew why I multiplied numbers, why I subtracted numbers or why I used pi. In real life, I sometimes didn't understand why I did certain things. Like forgiving Troy. I didn't know why I did that.
A knock at my bedroom door made me lift my head from my math book. "Come in," I called.
I sat up in the summer dress I'd been wearing that day when I saw Troy step hesitantly into my room. "Hi," he said slowly.
I sighed as I closed all of my books and smoothed some wrinkles in my dress. "If this is about getting back together, you can forget it because I'm done. I'm sorry and I love you but I can't do it anymore."
Troy shook his head as he shut my door. "No," he muttered. "It's not about getting back together. Well, it is. Kind of."
I shrugged. "Are you going to enlighten me?"
Troy nodded. "Okay. I'm going to say a word and I want you to guess why I'm here." He paused. "Stanford."
I could feel the colour drain from my face. I mean, I shouldn't be that bothered considering I'd told him I didn't want him in my life anymore. But, I still loved him. There was a reason I hadn't told him. I knew that, whether we were together or not, he'd want me to stay. I'd hoped I wouldn't have to confront this moment until after I'd left.
I sighed and looked down at my hands. "How'd you find out about that?"
"Sharpay yelled at me," he muttered.
I rolled my eyes. "I knew I should've gagged her this morning."
Troy shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"
I looked up at him. "Because I know you. I know that you weren't that happy when I was accepted to Stanford to start in September. I didn't want to think what you'd do if you found out I was leaving earlier than planned."
Troy sighed and sat next to me on my bed. "I don't want you to leave."
I looked across at him. "Do you think that's going to make me stay? I broke up with you because I don't want you in my life anymore. I just don't."
Troy laughed sarcastically. "You don't mean that."
I frowned. "Why not?"
He shrugged. "Come on, El. We've done this a million times and you never mean it. You're just trying to prove something to me and I get it. I don't want you to go. I want you here, with me. Just tell me that you'll take me back and we'll move on."
I shook my head slowly. "Yes, we've done this a million times before but this time I mean it. I can't do this anymore. I'm not trying to prove anything to you. I'm proving something to myself." I felt a tear leak from my eye. "I'm proving that I'm strong enough to live without you in my life. Because that's what I need. I used to think I needed you to breathe. But, I've realised that I need to get away from you. I can't take you back. I just can't."
Troy shook his head. "I can change, I promise."
"You've said that before," I muttered. "You expect me to live my life just dropping everything and running back to you when you want me. But that's not living, is it? It's me living my life around you and I can't live that way. I can't do that. I can't."
Troy paused. "You're really leaving?"
I nodded. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't," I whispered.
"You don't want to," he murmured.
"Not good enough," I muttered.
"I don't want you to," he exclaimed.
I shook my head. "Not good enough." I paused. "The funny thing is that you know the one thing that can make me stay. And you say it all the time. You just never mean it. Three words. Eight letters. Say it, mean it, and I'll stay."
Troy opened his mouth but faltered.
I nodded. "That's what I thought." I stood up and opened my bedroom door. "I think you should leave."
Troy slowly stood up and walked over to me. "Are we ever going to get back together?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Right now? No, we're not. But, maybe we'll find our place in this world someday. But right now, I need to do this by myself and figure things out. You've been the centre of my life for two years and now I have the chance to think about me. Please don't deny me of that."
Troy nodded slightly. "Okay. Will you see me before graduation?"
"I don't know, Troy. Just let me figure things out first, okay?" I asked quietly.
Without saying another word, he leant forward and brushed his lips against mine. "Please don't leave me, Ella."
"I have to," I whispered.
Ever since I was a little girl, I had dreams. There were things I wanted to achieve and I wouldn't stop until I got them. Most little girls dream about getting married, having kids and living happily ever after. Me? I just dreamt about attending Stanford University and becoming a lawyer. I didn't care about boys and clothes and makeup. I just kept my eyes on the prize and kept studying.
So when I found myself wandering around Stanford's campus, I suppose I should've felt a sense of peace; a sense of completion. After all, I can't remember a time when I didn't want to be here. But as I walked around Stanford's quad, relishing in the quiet evening, I felt that something was amiss. Something was wrong. Would I always feel that pull, dragging back to Troy? Would I always feel incomplete because Troy wasn't in my life? But was it worth having him in it, if he was just going to hurt me over and over again?
I sat down on a wooden bench, thinking how the three weeks at my dream university were almost over. Tonight was my last night in California and then tomorrow, I'd be back in Albuquerque in time for East high's prom. Obviously, I wouldn't be attending.
The thing with Troy is that when I was with him, he was wonderful. He treated me like a guy should. But, he just couldn't stop hurting her.
"You know, I would've thought you'd be smiling," a voice murmured.
I looked up to see Troy crouched in a nearby tree. I looked back towards my hands. "Why are you here?"
I heard him jump down from the tree and looked up to see him stood in front of me. "I wrote something for you."
I rolled my eyes. "Troy, I'm not interested." I stood up with my bag. "It was hard enough leaving you the first time. Stop tempting me."
"If it's that hard, then don't leave me," Troy yelled.
I nodded slowly. "That's really going to get me back, isn't it? Look, I don't have time for this." I started walking away, towards the dorm where I was staying.
He grabbed my hand. "Just give me ten minutes. Please."
I snatched my hand from his and folded my arms reluctantly. "Ten minutes."
Troy slipped a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of his jeans. He unfolded it and glanced at me. "I spent three weeks working out what I'd say to you. I spent three weeks wondering what to say that would make you come back. Nothing sounded right. It sounded cheesy and rehearsed and like I didn't mean it. But, what could I say to you that would make you forgive the unforgivable? I took you for granted. You were the best thing in my life and I thought you'd always be there. And you weren't and it was my fault."
I saw a tear leak from his eyes. Troy Bolton was honest-to-God crying. I almost stopped him there and then but I didn't. I wanted to hear the rest of it.
"I remember the first day we met. You were wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt and when I helped you with your books, you looked so beautiful and fragile that I knew I'd have to have you or I'd die." He glanced at me. "But that scared me. I didn't want to feel like I depended on anybody. I didn't want to feel like I needed someone. I was fine by myself. But you..." He gave a short laugh, his eyes still watering. "I couldn't get enough of you. I didn't care about school or my friends or my family. I only cared about you. I felt sick with jealousy whenever you talked to anybody else, girl or guy, because I wanted you for myself."
So Troy was as hooked on me as I was on him. So what? Those were words. They were lies. There's no way that, after two years of hurting me, he's suddenly willing to admit that he needed me. It's not possible.
"But, I didn't want to admit that I was honestly addicted to you. So I did some pretty horrible things so that I maybe wouldn't feel that way. But then you kept forgiving me and you kept coming back and it made you more wonderful than you already were. Of course, that made me want you even more and it was a vicious circle. The more I wanted you, the more I hurt you, the more you came back. But, then you broke it. You didn't come back and everything stopped. Clocks stopped ticking, the world stopped spinning and I stopped living because you weren't in my life as mine anymore." He shrugged. "But, El, if you leaving me means that you're happy, I should let you move on."
A silence ensued as we stared at each other. It would be so easy to convince myself that he was telling the truth and it would be easy to jump into his arms and ride off into the sunset. But there was a niggling in my mind, reminding me of all of the times that he'd lied to me before, and all of the time he could lie again. Of course, none of his lies had ever been this extravagant and had included him crying but, that didn't mean anything.
I shook my head. "The answer's no, Troy. You're lying to me again and I just don't know why I should go back to you. They're just words, Troy. Rehearsed ones at that. I think you should leave."
Troy nodded slowly and looked at his piece of paper. "Okay then. I guess this is really goodbye." He folded his piece of paper back up and pressed it into the palm of my hand. He gave me a sad smile before he turned around and walked away.
I frowned and watched his rusting truck roar away. I frowned down at the piece of paper he'd given me and tentatively unfolded it. It was just a piece of paper with directions to the university on it. He hadn't written that at all, it was all spontaneous. Nothing planned, nothing rehearsed, just him telling me how he truly felt for once in our relationship. For once, he wasn't chasing me. For once, he wasn't taking me for granted. For once, he was thinking about me.
Never in our entire relationship had he ever been that honest when persuading me to take him back.
Upon my arrival back in Albuquerque, I went to a place that many people would think of as odd. Instead of spending hours catching up with friends of family, I sat alone in a tree house. It wasn't my tree house. I hadn't spent my childhood in it, I hadn't helped build it, but it still held a huge part of my heart.
A red cape was tied around my neck and I was fiddling with Troy's toy robot, rather aptly named 'Robo-Rob'. Touching Troy's things gave me some kind of comfort. Perhaps I should've called Troy to tell him I was her. Or at least told his parents that I was here. I just couldn't bear it. I needed time. I needed to make sure this was actually a good idea. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life wondering if I made the right decision. I just wanted to know that this is it.
The tree house was an uncomplicated place. It was one of the few places that could make me forget the complications and issues of my relationship with Troy. It showed me a Troy that no one else saw. It still held remnants of his childhood: boxes of old toys, photos taped to the walls and drawings in magic markers covered every wooden surface. It was a place where Troy and I had spent hours quietly completing homework, sharing sweet, meaningful kisses, or simply enjoying each other's company. When we were in the tree house together, Troy was the guy I knew he was. He didn't have to act like someone else because nobody else was watching. When we were in the tree house, he was the guy I fell in love with.
And now here I was, putting my happiness on the line, hoping her was telling the truth back at Stanford.
I kept unfolding the piece of paper he'd given me, reminding myself that none of it was rehearsed, nothing was memorised, nothing was acted. Nothing was a lie. It was all the truth. I knew that everyone would think that I'd lost my mind, especially after my big scene in the school hallway. But, Troy had some serious proving to do now. I knew him. I knew when he acted and when he lied. And I wasn't going to let him do that anymore. If he wanted me, he'd be the Troy that I loved, that scared little boy, for everybody else, too.
I looked down at Robo-Rob. I didn't want a robot for a boyfriend. I didn't want Troy to feel like he had to act a certain way because of who he was. I didn't want him to act a certain way because of his fears, either. I just wanted him to act like the guy who had first showed me his childhood tree house.
"Ella?" a voice gasped.
I looked up to see Troy standing in the doorway. I waved Robo-Rob's hand at Troy. "Hey, Troy." I looked him up and down in his tux. He looked ever so handsome in his white shirt, black blazer and black pants. His tie was loosened and I don't think he ever considered buying dress shoes, for a pair of white converse sneakers were on his feet. That was my Troy. Never appearing perfect, but still being himself.
I rose to my feet and brushed my dress down. "How was prom?"
He shrugged half-heartedly and shook his bangs out of his eyes. "Boring. I only went because Chad persuaded me to go." He sighed. "What are you doing here?"
I chewed my lip for a moment. "Well, the programme finished so I came back for graduation." I took a step forward. "Troy, I had to come back. There was always going to be a reason to come back. And he's standing here in front of me." I reached into the pocket of my dress and pulled the piece of paper out. "Why didn't you just tell me without making me think you'd written a whole lot of rehearsed crap?" I reached out to jokingly slap his arm.
He laughed. "Hey." He shook his head as he dug his hands into his pockets. "I don't know. I kind of thought that just saying everything that I've kept bottled up for the two years since I met you would sound like every other lie I've ever told you and you wouldn't believe me." He gave me a crooked half-smile, making him look rather vulnerable, scared and overall sexy. "Of course, that backfired because then you were complaining that it was, in your words, rehearsed crap. So I proved that it was the furthest thing. I've never been so terrified in my life." He suddenly quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you wearing my cape and holding Robo-Rob?"
I shrugged. "They remind me of you. You're my hero. Every day, you make me feel more special than I've ever felt in my life. And Robo-Rob? You act like a robot in front of other people because you're scared. You admitted it to me just yesterday. Don't you see, Troy? You admitting that you're scared means more to me than anything else you've ever said."
He nodded slowly. "I get it. I still don't get something: how did you know I'd be here?"
"I know you," I whispered. "Whenever you're upset or angry or frustrated, you come here. And I needed to talk to you. I needed to apologise to you."
Troy frowned and stepped closer, tentatively placing his hands on my waist. "Why the hell are you apologising?"
I felt tears well in my eyes. "I shouldn't have accused you of lying."
Troy scoffed. "You have every reason to think that I did, though."
I shook my head. "But I don't. What you told me yesterday was the truth. I could tell. At least, I could after you'd left. And I shouldn't have accused you of lying about all of that." I sighed. "Troy, I want you to be mine. I want you to be with me. But, I want this Troy Bolton to be holding my hand. I don't want to see that lying, manipulative bastard anymore. Because this is the Troy Bolton I fell in love with."
Troy looked into my eyes, his hands snaking around to rest on my lower back. "I'm scared of the way that you make me feel."
I wrapped my arms around his neck. "You don't scare me." I paused. "You have to promise that you're going to be honest with me and everyone else now. No more acting, no more lying. Just you. Being scared isn't being weak. Being scared means that you're human. And facing your fears is the bravest thing that you can do. Prove to me that my hero's brave. If you can do that, I'll give you a final chance."
Troy nodded. "You're being brave by giving me a final chance, now I'm going to be brave for you."
I sighed. "I'm serious. I'm going to Stanford in September. A thousand miles away. You better be ready to be committed to me."
He shrugged. "Maybe it won't be a thousand miles." He chuckled at my confused face. "I chose to study at Berkeley. It's exactly thirty two point seven miles from Stanford University."
I laughed as tears leaked from my eyes. "You're serious?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "El, I know I screwed up more times than I should've, but I'm willing to do anything if it means that I've got you with me. Gabriella Montez, I love you."
I smiled, bringing him down for a kiss. How wonderful it was. There was something satisfying about the way our bodies were pressed together and how Troy's lips were caressing my own. There was no reluctance there from either of us. All of our walls were let down and there was Troy and there was me and in September, we'd be facing the world. Together.
Who knew? My very own Judas finally found his own strength to face his biggest fear.
Me.
