Pain.

If there was one word in the world to describe my life, that word sums it all up in a nut shell. Pain; pain for the loss of my mother, pain for the loss of the sister I never got to know, pain for the loss of my father.

I've always wondered when the saying 'life's tough' just doesn't apply anymore. I believe it's when life has been so hard on you, you give up hope.

Hope.

That's another one of those funny little four letter words. Hope is something is another thing I've lost. Hope, I've never known it since the day I turned four. That was the day I lost my father- mentally.

How could two four letter words describe my life?

I'm Troy Bolton. I'm eighteen, though how I managed to survive that long is a mystery to me. Just like how those two words could define everything my life is and isn't.

I've never considered suicide. I know most people going through a situation like this would have started thinking about it as soon as they learned what it was. Not me, huh, guess I have some hope in me after all.

"TROY!"

The sound of my name interrupted my thoughts. Strange, I usually never have enough time to think that hard.

"TROY!"
Shit. That's twice he said my name. Two times the pain.

I run downstairs as fast as I can; skipping two or three steps at a time. The sharp pain on my side from last nights beating makes me want to stop pushing myself so hard. But that same pain is also my motivation to get down the stairs faster.

"Sir?" I asked, knowing better to refer to my father as dad.

"About damn time, I want the lawn mowed and the house cleaned up before six, then I want you to be on that court practicing by the time I walk out there."

I glanced at the clock behind him; four in the morning. Cool I got to sleep in an hour later.

I got all my chores done in a record time for me. I still had fifteen minutes to spare. I knew better than to do anything he hasn't told me to do, or to go to my room and rest for the time left. I went out to our drive way and started to practice, hoping I'd get on his good side for starting early.

I was wrong. I missed two of my twenty free throw shots. Each shot missed to him, means longer suicides. Right after you miss the shot though, was when he liked to lash out on me. I've learned to detach myself from the experience. I still feel the pain, after a while. I no longer feel him beating on me though.

I run into school right as the tardy bell rings: great way to start my first day off right? Of course everyone is used to me coming to school late. I'm the head coach's kid, whatever he says goes.

Everyone is used to seeing me in a jacket and pants, even in the ninety degree dry weather. No one's ever questioned me, except once, in ninth grade. My dad overheard them, he made up a lame excuse for the kid to go to detention, then accused me of trying to get him in trouble. He made sure, in his way, that I never got any ideas about saying anything.

I walk into my homeroom, surprised to see the seat I usually sit at being occupied. Everyone at school, by now, knows not to get in my way, or daddy dearest will figure out a way to give you detention.

When he realized that he can cause me more pain by taking away the few friends I had, that's when I lashed out at him. He took the knife he had in his hand from cutting up something for dinner and stabbed me a little bit above my stomach. He took me to the hospital and told them I ran into him and the knife, not paying attention. They believed him, I was lucky; he didn't hurt any of my vital organs. I still have the scar for that; along with a lot of others.

I walked up to the person in my seat and realized I've never seen her before. Considering my graduating class has about three hundred, I've seen just about every senior in the school. I took the seat next to her, not wanting her to think I'm a jerk on her first day here. Of course, she'd hear the false stories about me and come with the conclusion herself.

She looked up from looking from her schedule and looked around the class room. She had long, wavy brown hair and was very small. She was also very pretty, I realized with a pang of jealousy. I could never date her, could never talk to her. When she looked at me I put my head down and acted like I was taking notes or something.

Homeroom ended and I ran out of the room. I had free period first thing in the morning. I explained to the principle that with basketball, I never had time to do homework, and having first period off would allow me some much needed time to catch up. He bought the lie.

Truthfully, I just wanted one hour away from my world. I found a garden that green club had on the top of one of the roofs of the buildings my sophomore year. Ever since I found it I spent my free period up there. I wanted free period the first hour of the day, because after my dad's morning wake up call the tranquility of the place is very welcoming.

The day flew by, I saw the girl in two other of my classes. Gabriella Montez. I like that name. My fifth hour was basketball PE. Thankfully when I miss a shot at school he can't touch me. I can tell he hates it. I know later he'll make me pay for those missed shots, but while at school I can at least pretend to be a normal guy practicing.

I didn't want to go to the noise of the cafeteria, so I went to my retreat area. When I got there I noticed I wasn't the only there. She was there too.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice sounding way harsher than I wanted it to be.

She jumped. "Sorry, I didn't think I wasn't allowed up here, I got lost and I'll….just.. go"
She started to frantically gather up her stuff. I didn't want her to leave. Surprisingly, this was the one place my father thought to look for me. I wanted to talk to her.

"No, don't go," My voice giving away too much of the loneness I was feeling inside, "This area is opened to everyone."

She visibly relaxed, but still moved as if to leave. Before she hit the stairs she turned towards me and asked, "You're the basketball guy?"
I winced inwardly. I got that name for being the coach's golden basketball kid.

"I guess what they say isn't true."

Now that got my attention. No one has ever heard the rumors about me and acknowledged them as false.

"How do you figure?"

She walked towards me now.

"Your eyes, my mom always tells me that if you want to know the truth of a person, look at their eyes. I've seen truly mean, stuck-up guys and what's in your eyes, is the far opposite from what you see in theirs."

I just looked at her. She blushed and then turned around to leave.

"Wait," I called out. "Please stay."

For some reason, the past years of loneliness suddenly hit me full force. I was tired of my dad pushing people away from me, thinking I don't deserve happiness because he's not happy.

I sat down on the bench and motioned for her to sit by me.

"I'm Gabriella." She said while sitting down.

"Troy Bolton."

"I've seen you in a few of my classes…."

For the rest of the lunch period we sat their, and talked mainly about our first day as senior, her first day here, and what she thought about the teachers. When the bell rang, I didn't want to go anywhere. But I knew this bliss wasn't meant to last.

"I had fun Troy, thank you."

Before I had a chance to think I blurted out, "Would you like to meet me up here again tomorrow?"

She smiled, "I'd love to."

"What time do you have free period?"
"First."

Perfect. "Meet me up her first period tomorrow."

She nodded and left.

I felt myself smile; amazed that I actually could. I had a date with Gabriella tomorrow; my first date. For the first time ever, I wanted to go home so I could think of the perfect date for her.

Next Chapter up tomorrow if I get enough reviews!