Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. It belongs to Disney. The title comes from a song sung by Meredith Andrews.

Not For A Moment

Chapter 1

Troy Bolton scrubbed a hand through his thick brown hair and shaded his eyes as he watched the door to the office building. The hot summer sun blazed down on him as he leaned against his sleek black truck, so different from the temperamental truck he'd driven in high school. He watched as businessmen and women strutted up and down the busy Albuquerque sidewalk with their briefcases clutched tightly in their hands or slung over their shoulders. A few families walked by with parents clutching the hands of their small children.

A teenage guy ambled by next to a man who was obviously his father. The father slung an arm around his son's shoulders while the boy held a basketball securely under his arm. They laughed together as they passed Troy causing an ache in his heart.

It had been five years since he'd lost his father and his mother in a car accident caused by a drunk driver. He'd been nineteen and lost, hopelessly and completely lost. Gabriella had been his saving grace, her and her mother. Troy wouldn't have survived the dark days after his parents' death without them.

His mind traveled back to the most difficult time of his life, and he allowed it, something he rarely did. It had been a Friday night. He and Gabriella had spent the evening at the movies followed by dinner at their favorite Italian restaurant. They had been home from college on summer break and both had the night off from the retail jobs they were working.

Nineteen year old Troy slid his arm around Gabriella's shoulders in the small booth tucked into a secluded corner of their favorite restaurant. The scent of her shampoo mingled with her perfume to drive him crazy. He nuzzled her cheek and heard her laugh softly.

"Troy," she breathed when he pressed a tender kiss to her temple.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he asked as his fingers rubbed delicate patterns on the soft skin of her arm.

She nodded. "Yes, it was fabulous." Her dark gaze locked with this bright blue eyes and a smile curved her lips.

Troy's cell phone rang disturbing their peaceful dinner. He answered it without checking his caller I.D.

"Troy, this is Mrs. Russ from across the street."

He immediately sat up straighter and removed his arm from Gabriella's shoulders. Something had to be wrong if Mrs. Russ was calling him.

"Troy, you need to come home. The police are at your house." The older woman sounded nervous. "Something must have happened. I can't reach your mother on her cell phone."

Troy's stomach burned and twisted at the woman's words. "I'll be right there."

He hung up the phone and turned to the concerned woman beside him. "We need to go, Gabriella. That was my neighbor. The police are at my house and she can't get in touch with my mom." Troy carelessly tossed some bills on the table to cover the cost of their dinner.

Gabriella slid out of the booth and Troy followed her, dialing his mother's cell phone and frowning when she didn't answer and it went to voicemail. He immediately tried reaching his father, but the basketball coach didn't answer either.

"Where were your parents going tonight?" Gabriella asked as she slipped into the passenger seat of his truck and buckled her seatbelt.

"To a play with some friends," he answered as he backed out of the parking space and exited the parking lot, pulling into the evening traffic.

"Maybe they are still in the play and that's why they aren't answering their phones," Gabriella suggested.

"Maybe," Troy agreed even he knew deep inside that something was wrong. They made the rest of the drive in silence, Gabriella's hand creeping over to rest reassuringly on his thigh.

As he turned onto his street, Troy discovered that Mrs. Russ was correct. There was a police car parked in front of his house, a house that was still dark and deserted. He turned into the driveway and pulled the key from the ignition. He met Gabriella's worried gaze before grasping the door handle and stepping out into the warm evening air. Gabriella did the same and then walked around the car to stand at his side as two police officers exited their car and approached them.

"Excuse me," the first officer, a tall African-American man called, "we're looking for Troy Bolton."

"I'm Troy Bolton." Troy's heart pounded loudly in his ears and he felt Gabriella's small, warm hand slip gently into his.

"Can we go inside and talk?" the second officer, tall and blonde, asked softly.

Troy couldn't find his voice.

"Of course," Gabriella answered for him. She tugged on his hand and led him toward the house.

With trembling fingers, Troy managed to get the key into the lock and open the front door. He flipped on the light and led the officers into the tidy living room that looked just as it had when he had left it four hours ago.

"Have a seat," Gabriella offered, gesturing to the couch. Troy dropped into his father's favorite chair and she settled onto the chair's arm so that she was pressed against his shoulder.

"Mr. Bolton, we have some bad news," the blonde officer started.

His partner cleared his throat and focused sad brown eyes on the young man and woman before him. "Mr. Bolton, I'm sorry to have to tell you that your parents' car was hit head on by a drunk driver going the wrong way on the Interstate."

Troy felt as if he was in a daze. There was a loud roaring in his ears and his chest tightened. He felt Gabriella's arms wrap around his shoulders, but his mind was numb. He was having a hard time processing the police officer's words.

"What hospital are they at?" he finally managed to choke out.

"Mr. Bolton," the officer sighed sadly, "there were no survivors in the accident. I'm sorry."

"No, that can't be right," Troy yelled, jerking to his feet and nearly knocking Gabriella off of the chair. "They are fine; you must be mistaken!"

"Troy," Gabriella said softly as tears shone in her dark eyes, "listen to the police officers." She reached for him and he pulled away.

"No!" Anger rolled through him and he slapped the wall with his hand, his palm tingling with pain. "No, my parents aren't dead. They can't be dead!"

"Troy, look at me," Gabriella prompted, turning him and allowing her hands to rest on his shoulders.

He turned around to gaze into her tear-streaked face. Then he looked at the officers and their solemn expressions. "They're gone, aren't they?" he choked out to his girlfriend.

"Yes, Troy, they're gone."

He found himself wrapped in her loving embrace as his tears soaked her shoulder. His legs suddenly felt like jelly and collapsed beneath him. Gabriella knelt with him as he sunk to the floor and cradled him as he cried. She stroked his sweaty brown hair away from his face as she sobbed with him.

The police officers must have left at some point, but Troy didn't remember their departure. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he allowed Gabriella to help him stand up and stiffly make his way to the couch. She settled next to him, taking his hand in hers as she reached for her cell phone with her free hand.

"Mom," she began when her mother answered the phone, "there's been a horrible accident and Troy's parents are gone," she choked out in a strangled voice.

"Oh, sweetheart, where are you?"

"We're at Troy's house." Gabriella curled up against her boyfriend's side and laid her head on his shoulder. His body was rigid and tense.

"I'll be right there, honey. You just hang on."

Gabriella ended the call and tossed her phone to the side. "My mom is on her way, Troy." She stroked a hand tenderly through his hair as concern for him flooded through her.

He didn't speak, only turned toward her and settled his face against the crook of her neck. "I can't believe they're gone," he murmured in a voice rusty from tears.

"I know," she commiserated as she began to cry once again.

To Be Continued…