I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry! But, I'm back! And I have faith that this story is going to work! So, here's the first chapter of my new story!

A high school football game. The score: 21 to 28 in the fourth quarter, 7 minutes and 28 seconds left in the game. The Varsity football players waiting for the perfect play to score the one-of-a-kind touchdown to tie the game. If they won, they would go on to the playoffs but, so far, nothing but fumbles, flags and failure since the quarter started. The East High Wildcats just could not seem to pull it together, to be quite honest, they showed now sign of being able to pull this game off, even if they were only one touchdown away from going into overtime. It was a relief that the West High Knights, East High's rival, hadn't pulled out another run into the in zone with all of the mistakes the Wildcats were making on their own turf. West High had the ball. The players lined up at the 20 yard line. Suspense in the air once more. 3...2...1...HIKE!
And, just like that, a group of almost grown young man pushed and shoved, "West High's, #53, Bryce Jamison, throws down the field. It's caught by...WAIT A SECOND! Intercepted by East High's #14, Troy Bolton! (Think on that name...) He's running, he's running! Does he have what it takes to run it all the way? He's going, he's moving, he's running! Oh! and he's tackled down at the 11 yard line! That leads to a East High 1st down!"

The crowd was up on it's feet, jumping and screaming. All except one girl dressed in jeans, a dark gray sweatshirt and everyday sneakers. A girl who'd had nothing better to do that night. That was why she was there. She had never been that interested in football, but there was nothing else she could have done that night. She had actually been enjoying the game until, about, 20 seconds into that last play. She was looking around frantically, searching for any sign of stillness. Stillness? At a football game? Yes. A non-moving human being, a death-like figure that could not be mistaken as someone you couldn't fear. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion for her. Chills running down her spine. He was here. In the stadium. And he was watching her. She knew he was. He was there and she didn't need any evidence to prove that. She knew he was there without even seeing him. The crowd was going crazy, but she had to get out of there.

3rd down. The Wildcats had moved forward even more and they were so close to tieing the game. The players lined up at the seven yard line, the stadium went quite. If anyone has ever been to a football game, they would know that that's something that doesn't usually happen. Did they have what it took to score a touchdown? Would they put this game into overtime? This was the play everyone had been waiting for...they hoped. Everyone stayed still. All except for that one girl. Standing up and walking out. The only person really moving at all.

3...2...1...HIKE! The crowd stayed silent, with only a few 'get em's' and 'run the ball's' filling the air. The tension in the silence, the girl walking away, the piercing grayish-blue eyes that watched her every movement from the crowd as she did and the play that brought disappointment and jealousy as the ball landed on the 2 yard line bringing the game to an end.

East High School. A two story building colored Red and White, the school colors. The smallest school in the state, mostly known for its Music Program. Students were filling the hallways on that Monday morning as early as 7:00am. Some were more awake then others as it usually is on a Monday morning. The musicians came in carried sheet music and instruments; mostly guitars. Math freaks came in usually glued to a calculator with a pencil in their mouth. Jocks came in mostly in low jeans and swinging their car keys in a circle around their fingers. By 7:15am most of the school was in attendance. Lockers were closing with loud bangs, cussing could be heard all over and at exactly 7:23am, Troy Bolton walked through the giants double doors that opened at closed at the North end of the main hallway. He was accompanied by a small group of girls, most likely cheerleaders, and had a few members of the football team at his heels. Troy wasn't the most popular boy in school, but he was pretty damn close. If you walked past the group, one would here Matthew Davison, co-captain of the football team, still complaining about the game that had taking place on Friday night.

"You had the ball, Troy. You could have done it." Matthew said as if he'd been saying it all day.

"I told you, I got tackled down before the ball reached the inzone," Anyone with a Troy could tell that Troy was getting tired of saying. But, no one could blame Matthew for being upset about it. This was the 6th years in a row that the East High Wildcats had missed going to the playoffs all because of the last game.

"I'm just saying...You couldn't have moved at least 2 or three yards forward?"

Troy looked down. He hated losing games for the team and this hadn't been the first time he'd made a stupid play at the end of a game. People would often complain about him even being on the Varsity football team, often saying that he should been on the Freshman Team. Sure, the kid had talent. Maybe if he had a little potential in him, he would be better. But he hadn't told anyone that there was a reason he'd lost this game and it wasn't because of his stupidity.

Matthew tapped Troy on the shoulder in a very man-friendly way, "Hey, why the long face? You're still a valuable player," Matthew starting walking away, "You better join again next season or we'll have lost our best 'mistake player'"

Troy rolled his eyes and watched Matthew as he walked down the hallway. Troy stopped at his locker and pulled a few things from it, and started walking towards his first period class. Turning a corner, he saw a girl at the end of the hallway, walking in the opposite direction of him. It was the same girl he'd seen at the game. The same one that had broken his concentration. Not because of her looks, but because she was the only person who was literally moving at the final play of the game. The reason he'd lost the game for the team. He had spent the whole night wondering why she had left the game so suddenly. Of course, it was none of his business, but he had found it a bit peculiar that she had been there the entire game and left so suddenly on the last tackle.

She had her head down, her arms crossed against her chest, walking rather quickly for a high school student at East High. Her long, curly, dark-chocolate brown hair flowing behind her and, as she walked passed Troy, he could tell that she had been crying. But, if he had looked any closer, he would have seem the thin, small cuts on the side of her cheek.

It was a pain having Calculus first period, especially when it was with Mrs. Wilson. She was not the worst teacher in the school, but she wasn't the brightest either. But, she was indeed the youngest, meaning that most of the guys would fawn over her. She had only been teaching at East High for a little over 3 years and, let's just say, she was not the best teacher in the world. Her teaching style was slow and boring. She only ever gave projects, never just regular homework and she had a small problem with picking favorites, particularly Troy's best friend Chad Danforth.

"Good morning class," Mrs. Wilson said as the start-of-class bell rang, "Please open your books to page 257 and get out paper, a pencil, a ruler and a calculator.

Troy was sitting in the farthest back seat possible. He couldn't stand Mrs. Wilson. She was too... strange for him to even consider sitting in the first few rows of seats. Chad seemed to be ill that day since he would have usually been next to Troy, making class more tedious then it normally was.

The class was uneventful as if usually was. No one spoke or answered questions. No one ever said anything in her class. They either slept or pretended to jot down notes for the sake of her thinking they weren't paying attention and when the bell rang, they would all rush out of the their seats and cram through the small, squeaky door as quickly as possible.

Passing period was always interesting as East High. People would talk of gossip-y things that were usually completely made up and sometimes fights would even start, all in the short 5 minutes that they had to get to their next class.

Troy was walking to class a slowly as possible, ignoring the "nice game of Friday's" and the "Nice try," comments that would often been thrown his way. He wasn't looking were he was going. He wasn't even sure if he was headed toward the right class. He kept thinking about that girl. He knew it was none of his business. He knew he shouldn't care, but he knew for a fact that she had been crying earlier that day. Why did he all of a sudden seem so infatuated with this girl? This girl he had never spoken to in his life. Sure, he had seen her around, she was in his American Sign Language class, but he'd never actually talked to her. He didn't even know her name.

As if it were fate or destiny, he turned a corner and knocked into someone. Both of them falling to the floor, books and utensils flying everywhere. Some students passed by and laughed while others simply walked by, not caring. Troy looked up and there she was. That girl. She made him loose the game and he couldn't seem to figure out why other then her getting up and leaving during the last play of the game. She started cleaning and picking up her things that had fallen.

Troy come out of his trace, seeing what she was doing, "I'm so sorry. Let me help you with that."

He picked up a few of her notebooks and nearly as soon as he touched them, she ripped them out of his hands, "What the hell?" He said, "I'm trying to help."

"I don't need your help," the girl spoke in a quiet and shaky voice. It was the first time Troy had ever heard her talk. Well, if he was ever going to talk to her, this would be the time.

"Aren't you...?"

"No." She rudely interrupted with a little bit of a stronger voice then what she had answered with earlier. She picked up her bag, filling it with text books and walking away.

"Hey! I just wanted to know..." Troy yelled after her, but she had disappeared into the ocean of chaotic students. Troy went through the rest of the day, thinking, trying to figure out if he'd said something offensive to her, but he hadn't more then at least 10 words to her. In his last class of the day, AP English/Literature 12, he promised himself that, tomorrow in ASL, he would figure out her name. It wasn't until school had officially ended and he had gone to his locker that he realized she'd taken something of his when they had fallen. She'd taken his Football Cup. You know, the thing that goes down in a man's "area" during a game. He'd meant to take it to the gym that morning, but he'd never gotten around to it and now she had it. He wouldn't mind if she had accidentally taken anything else, but his football cup? Of all the things she could have picked up, she had to pick up that?

So, yeah. That's my opening. What do you think? Think I should continue? REVIEW!