A/N: This is my second HSM fic, uh, it's not the sequel to Knights of the Island Counter, but I will be getting that out soon. This isn't a very long chapter, but it's a start. So...Read and review! Thanks. -Mac
Dislaimer: I don't own High School Musical.
Chapter One
An Annual Tradition
It was that time again. The first day of the new year. A time for resolutions that will never be upheld. A time to look foward and think about what the next year will hold. For Gabriella Montez, to do that she must first look back into her past.
On the top shelve, in the back corner, of her closet there is a worn shoebox. It's hidden behind other boxes and junk. It is almost ready to fall apart from years of being passed through her hands. Inside there are bunches of photographs, separated by years. Many of the photographs have their edges curled, some are slightly faded and others--from more reacent--appear brand new amonst the older photographs. After so many years of shuffling through them such wear and tear is normal.
Every year, Gabriella takes down that box, finds a comfortable seat on her bed, and opens it. She spills out before herself every significant moment of her life, from kindergarten to college. Every moment she has deemed worthy of remembering. She takes her time getting reaquainted with all of her happy, exciting, wonderful moments.
This is her tradition. This is her process. On the first day of every new year, she takes down her little box and remembers. She remembers every important moment that brought her to this point in her life. Before she can look forward and move into the future, she must look back too see just what brought her to this moment, this second. The moments that made her into the person she was that day. Gabriella believed it was the only way she could look into the future with a clearer, more open mind. Knowing her past experiences helps to prepare her for her future experiences.
Then she would put them away--sometimes with new photographs from the past year--and didn't think about them again until the next year. She would put the box in the back corner, on the top shelf, move the other boxes back into place and go on with her day. That was her tradition. That was her process. But today was different.
Most of the photographs were from her years at East High. Her friends, she hadn't seen or spoken to most of them in years. Yet every year she brought out the pictures, looked at their smiling faces and stored them away for the rest of the year. She never took the time to think about how her life would be different if they were still in it. She only thought about how she got to this day. She didn't dwell on how much they could have changed her life, past the time when she didn't have them anymore. But today was different.
Today, as Gabriella began to shuffle through the pictures from her first year at East High she was overwhelmed by a horrible feeling of loss. It was the first time, in a long time that she actually missed them. She tried to push it down, but it wouldn't go away. Then she came across a picture of herself and him.
And suddenly, she knew today was different.
She hadn't talked to him since about a year or so after graduation. It was one of her many friendships that didn't continue into college. He had been the hardest to let go of, but she had done it and moved on. Today, however, she took one look at his face and was overcome by the strangest need to hear his voice.
Before she could think about what she was doing, she was digging through an old drawer of papers. Just before they lost touch, he had gotten a new phone. He had scribbled his number on a paper and gave it to her. She had never used it. Gabriella was sure she had put that paper in that drawer. Finally, she pulled out the slip of paper crinkled in her fist. She unfolded it and read the numbers softly to herself. His handwriting was still so familiar. His name was scrawled across the top, over the seven numbers. Gabriella ran her fingers over the letters, a smile appearing at the corners of her lips.
Gabriella sat down at her desk, and pulled her phone closer to her. She took a deep breath before picking up the ear piece. She held it to her ear with her shoulder as she slowly pushed each number. Her hand holding the paper shook slightly as she read it. She let it fall to the table as it began to ring.
Gabriella listened intently to each monotonous ring. Clutching the phone to her ear as if to catch even the faintest change in pitch, she began to breathe a little faster at each pause between rigns. She pleaded with the silent nothingness...answer. Answer.