She's with the Band
Preface
Like walking into a dream,
so unlike what you've seen
- Afterlife, Avenged Sevenfold
"We need a new singer," Chad states firmly, before forcing an unholy number of chips into his mouth.
Troy nods, tapping his cigarette against the railing. He watches the ash fall.
"Jason's terrible. No offense dude, but he can't sing." He talks with his mouth open. Jason makes a face.
"Nice. I love it when you refer to me in third person."
"I don't see what 'star quality' you saw in him," Chad goes on, licking the cheese off his fingers, "He's got as much as a starfish."
"I can hear you," Jason whines.
"Did you know starfish don't have brains?"
Troy lifts the cigarette to his lips, taking a deep whiff. It's in the middle of Chad and Jason's bickering that he sees her.
Her red checker shorts barely peek out from underneath her oversized black t-shirt. It has the words 'Three Days Grace' stamped on it.
He chokes on the smoke, hacking up a ball of metaphoric fur.
Chad thumps him on the back with unnecessary force. His fingers are now lined with cheese and saliva. "You okay dude?"
"Get off me," he rasps.
Chad thumps harder. "Harder please? With plea –"
"He said 'get off me'," Jason interrupts helpfully before flipping to a page of some book on a crazy fireman who didn't want to set fires to books anymore.
"Shut up, Jase," Chad yells. Jason shrugs.
"Anyway," Chad continues, finally stopping, "We need a new singer. You can sing but you're doing drums already. I would sing but I'm playing guitar." The look on his face resembles that of a sad puppy when he discovers the Doritos bag is all empty.
"The only thing you can sing is Ave Maria," Troy growls, without looking at him.
Jason snickers.
"I sing it well. Better than Jason sings the SpongeBob song."
"Hey," Jason shoots back, "That's current. And manly. What manly guy covers Ave Maria?"
Chad lunges at Jason.
She's wearing a pair of sunglasses on the back of her head.
Mrs. Darbus, the wacky homeroom teacher with glasses that could hold a thousand tears, walks by then. "Troy, tackle those two goofballs, would you?" She pats his shoulder twice, snatching his cigarette away with nimble, wrinkled fingers, before disappearing into the building.
"Who's she?" Troy asks, following her with his eyes. He knows everyone. Except maybe not today.
Chad wipes his forehead before attempting a seventh punch at Jason. As with all the others, Jason sidesteps it, all without looking away from his book.
"What girl?"
She's got a guitar strapped to her back, and her bag's plastered over with colourful badges.
Troy nods in her direction. Jason looks up, getting smacked by Chad's flying fingers in the process.
"OW. Thanks Chad." He rubs his jaws, glaring painful paintballs at him.
"My pleasure," Chad says, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf. He leans back against the railing.
She's probably the most petite girl he's ever seen.
"Who again?" Jason asks, looking around. Troy nods again.
"Oh – her. That's my step-sister."
His neck twists so fast he thinks he might get a cramp.
"Your – sister?" He sounds strangled.
"Yeah..." Jason draws out the word, looking at a slumped Troy weirdly, "she's my step-sister. Didn't I tell you guys she was starting junior year here today?"
"Who, who?" asks an oblivious Chad.
The meaning of his words sinks in and, suddenly, he feels as attracted to her as he does to Ms. Darbus.
"You didn't tell me your sister was back in Albuquerque," Troy spits out violently. Everything makes as much sense as a pancake doing the banana dance. His world is spinning between black and white, and colour.
"For the third time, step-sister. And, I did," Jason insists, looking more and more bewildered. "What's wrong with you?"
"We need a new singer," Chad states.
"Shut up Chad!" Jason shouts, clenching his fists.
"No, you shut up!" Chad retorts, brown face turning red.
He feels all the energy in him draining out in a second. His sudden robot-likeness catches Jason's attention.
"Are you okay?" Jason asks hesitantly.
Just then, like a shadow creeping into the light, the girl pops up behind Jason. "Hey Jase!"
"Argh –" Troy screams, falling backwards into the wall. The entire school turns to look at him.
Jason's sister, brown silky hair and all, raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm surprised you're not gay, Jase. Your friends sure are... appealing."
"Sheesh," Jase groans, running a hand over his face tiredly.
"So, introduce me!" she says, smiling. Chad's practically drooling, looking her up and down like she's some playboy magazine, and it makes Troy sick.
She's supposed to be in New York. Many states away. Supposed to be nerdy looking, with ugly braces and frizzy hair and terrible fashion sense and bad breath and scarring acne and –
"Guys, this is Gabriella Montez, my step-sister" - as Jason shoots a meaningful glare at Troy, he sinks back further into the wall, feeling slightly nauseous - "The one with the atrocious afro is Chad. The one hugging the wall's Troy."
It's almost like a bullet train drives right into his stomach at that very moment. He doesn't want to look at her, but his eyes flicker to her face inadvertently. Her surprise is palpable.
"Wait. Troy... Bolton?" She points at him, bemused.
"Yep," Jason says, looking between the two. "Do you know each other?"
The look on her face – abrupt realisation morphing into a mixture of disbelief and disgust and... hurt – forces him to look away. The memories from four years ago slam into him, playing out like a six-dollar movie. He can't move.
Her answer surprises him. "No," she states, voice unwavering. He can't help it; he glances at her. Even her character's different.
"No, we don't." She shakes her head, jaw tight, before smiling at Jason as if nothing ever happened.
"I'll see you later."
Troy releases the breath he was holding as soon as she brushes by him.
"What was that all about?" Jason asks, waving his arms in the air. "You guys were acting so weird. Are you sure you two don't know each other?"
"We don't," Troy barely manages to say.
He hears her footsteps before her cutting words. "You seriously suck Troy."
The tiny girl of five feet two punches him in the guts. With no forewarning, he crumples to the ground, groaning. His vision shakes like a branch in a tornado, and then the only thing he sees are her brown eyes. They look the same - a brown imitating black. He smells crisp vanilla in the air.
"I can't believe you!" she shrieks, "Have a totally nice life, asswipe. Goddammit. Go screw yourself." Furious, she stomps off.
She's really filled out, is all he can think, besides the raging pain.
"What was that all about?" Jason wails. "You guys know each other, don't you?"
"Yeah, we do," Troy spits, trying to sit up. Failing epically.
He can't believe she looks so different.
"How? How?" Jason looks like he's going to wet himself. "You don't know each other! You can't know each other."
"We were best friends in the eighth grade," Troy tries to explain. He can't find the right words to describe it.
"Why?" Jason fumes, looking like it's the end of the world. "Are you seriously dumb or something? Do you really only have fifty-two brain cells in your – I tried to convince myself that you weren't as dumb as I thought you were for the past three years but – I can't believe you – who makes friends with a girl in the eighth grade? Friendships don't last in the eighth grade!"
"Hey, I knew Troy since we were two. We're bros, man." Chad looks put out.
"That's an exception," Jason snaps, quivering. Chad rolls his eyes.
"How did I not know about this?"
Troy closes his eyes, really tired. "She went off to boarding school before you came to East High. Remember? I guess she never told you about our... friendship."
Jason looks like he's about to pass out. For a long moment, nobody speaks.
"If she hates you, can I go for her?" Chad pipes up just before the warning bell goes. "She's got a great rack."
Jason lunges at Chad, snarling.
--
a/n: i'm just sick and tired about the serious lack of good band fics on fanfiction and fictionpress. or, just, band fics that i want to read, in general. sick, i tell you.
i know it doesn't look like a band fic yet, but from the title – obviously, it is.