Gabriella really wasn't sure about her status as girlfriend to Troy Bolton. She did, after all, break up with him over a quick phone call. She could not bear the thought of having to play back and forth with Troy as she knew she needed to give her all on studying law at Stanford. And even though Troy surprised her, waiting for who-knows-how-long in a tree to woo Gabriella into going to Prom with him, she still knew that there was a lot left unsaid, even at graduation.

Days after graduation, Gabriella made an effort to keep to herself, except for the occasional visits from Taylor. She would sing to herself at night in her pajamas, twirling her hair in the mirror, and looking outside her balcony to see if Troy would be there, in a tree or something cheesy like he was. She didn't get it. She thought that now that high school was now officially over, and that summer was here, that they would be spending every night together doing silly stuff like feeding each other chocolate covered strawberries or popcorn and watch reruns of Goosebumps. But no, none of that seemed to permeate her reality. She was stuck with Taylor, who would not stop talking about her plans with her future business endeavors and entrepreneurial goals. She was all set to get that political science degree, and Gabriella could not be more annoyed.

"Could you just stop talking about how amazing you are, for once?" Gabriella said, desperate for some silence. She looked down at a photo of her and Troy from that one fabulous summer at Sharpay & Ryan's country club. She knew she shouldn't be so irritated, worried, possessive, or paranoid, but she also knew that Troy had a lot going on with his friends and...Sharpay.

She still could not get used to the idea of him even talking to her. There was clearly a trust issue still, and college down the road didn't seem to ease her mind, as she popped a cough drop in her mouth.

"Geez, sorry," Taylor began. "What is your deal, still having trust issues with Troy?" She said, almost mockingly.

"You know, Taylor, I don't need someone under my skin right now. I also don't need any mind games, so if you wanna leave me alone, you know where you live." Gabriella retorted, pulling her socks off and throwing them at her only best friend.

"Fine! You know, maybe it is better that Troy is on a roadtrip with some of his friends. You're not the only one going through this!" She picked up her purse, grabbed her shoes, pulled her hair back in a ponytail and stormed out, slamming Gabriella's door audibly enough to startle , who was likely sleeping.

And with that, Gabriella turned to her phone:

Troy, I can't believe you would be on a road trip right now when we haven't even spoken since graduation.

She knew she was needy, whiny, and a little bit possessive, but it all came with her territory, she thought. She did deserve a boyfriend who would cater to her, she kept thinking. Maybe she was being too easy-going, and not demanding enough. She needed some training, and she knew exactly who to turn to.

Sharpay, I would normally never text you, but I...need your help.

Gabriella turned the lamp light that lay right by her bed by the landline, and within a minute Sharpay had texted back.

Girl, you cray cray.

No, seriously, I really would never text you.

Do you want my help or not!?

Gabriella smiled slightly, remembering some of her run-ins with Sharpay at her retreat.

As she smiled, she turned her eyes to a spot on the carpeted floor and a quick memory of Troy's face smiling back at her with that boyish charm, and those vibrant blue eyes. She knew that she had to get Troy back, but she also didn't want him to think she was being a crazy, overprotective girlfriend. Just then, she heard a ding! from her phone, and sure enough, it was Troy.

Gabri, you know I would never mean to hurt you. Just need some time…

Time, she thought, was something that they have had too much of. Maybe he was drifting away from her, not only literally at the moment, but faithfully in terms of their relationship. She never really understood Troy Bolton, the ace of a basketball player, the multi talented kid that makes his way to fame by being super talented at everything he goes for. But at the same token, Gabriella knew she was also very talented. Was this all a contest to see who would be the most successful in their talents? In their careers? Would she always have to beg for his attention knowing that she'd be wasting so much of her time and energy when she could be directing them towards her own goals. What if school did not end up working for her the way she had planned her whole high school career? She was obviously good at chemistry, winning the science competition her first year at East High, but she had forgotten so much since then, and did not know if she would be able to pick it up so easily.

She stopped before her thoughts could consume her entirely. She decided that it was in her best interest not to respond back to Troy's text at the moment, but instead to keep communicating with...Sharpay Evans, the one rival who would probably do anything to sabotage Gabriella if she could get away with it-which she knew was not an easy task. Every time Sharpay would set up a little scheme to take Gabriella down, Gabriella would always bounce right back to where she left off, and to an even better position than she was before, like at the school talent show.

Yes, Sharpay, I want your help.

Sharpay sent a smiley face back to her in an instant.
Awesome! I have already spoken with Mrs. Bolton and she said she would love for us to come over for tea tomorrow at her...I mean, Troy's place. :-)

Gabriella knew Sharpay would waste no time. What a good friend to have in such a desperate situation. Wait, did she just think friend?

Gabriella put her phone down on the desk beside her bed, ignoring to respond to Sharpay's latest rant, and put some headphones on to hopefully soothe her to sleep.

She saw Troy, beautiful light-haired Troy, sitting down in what looked like a garden by a steel-white table set, laughing playfully with a teacup in hand. He looked carefree and happy, how she remembered him last summer, and how she saw him after his championship playoff this year, before all the worry of what was to come infiltrated their minds, let alone their lives. He was not alone. It seemed as if Gabriella's mom was sitting in front of him, enjoying his company.
She would smile, then he would, touching his lips with his fingers to keep from slobbering over his tea, then laugh even more jovially.

"So you think my Gabriella will want to marry you?" Mrs. Montez said as if a lightbulb flicked on.

"Oh, absolutely. She is a good girl, she is." Troy proclaimed.

"Troy, you already know how much she adores you," she continued, pouring more tea from a purple, porcelain teapot into her ceramic cup. "What are your plans for the near-future?"

"Well, I was hoping to get a scholarship so that I could study theatre and play basketball at the University of California, Berkeley," he answered, thinking that she had already known what his plans for school were.

"Have you ever thought about becoming a broadway star?" She said matter-of-factly, but Troy couldn't take her seriously enough.

"That would be a like a dream," he said and thought at the same time.

"You know, you are so talented. So young, handsome…" she took a sip from her teacup. "Why not become a Hollywood star?"

Suddenly, Sharpay Evans took place of Mrs. Montez, whose face seemed to distort, forming itself to the shape of Sharpay's.
"Sharpay?" Troy looked at her hesitantly, almost stern. "Where did you pop in from? And where is Mrs. Montez?"

"Oh, didn't you hear? Mrs. Montez moved back to Mexico with Gabriella. She thought the people here were too superficial." Sharpay wasted no time to get up and allow herself to sit next to Troy, as she almost instantly forced Troy's head onto her shoulder, as if babying him.

Ring! Ring!

The alarm on Gabriella's vanity rang brightly. She could have sworn that she had turned the volume down on that thing. She stretched swiftly, got up to take a quick bath, brushed her teeth, took about five minutes to choose her wardrobe, then sprinted down the stairs for a bite to eat. She really didn't know what to expect at lunch with Mrs. Bolton. All she knew was that Sharpay would be assisting her, with some sort of trickery up her sleeve to convince Troy to forget about his trip and return home at once. Yes, Gabriella thought, this seemed to be a clever idea, but she really wasn't quite sure what was going to happen. Anything was possible, and that scared her more than anything at the moment. She knew she would need to get a hold of herself, calm down, take deep breaths, and just be as present as her mind and body would allow her.

She made a few waffles in the waffle maker Troy had given her as a birthday present last year. She could not help but to acknowledge the weird dream she had. Why would Sharpay take the place of her mother, she kept thinking, the wheels in her grand mind would not stop spinning.

Ding!

Her phone went off, and then she realized that she had left it upstairs on her bed. As she sprinted back up to her room, she noticed that her mom was folding laundry and organizing a little bit.

"Hey mom," Gabriella smiled.

"Hey Gabi. Listen, are you and Taylor okay? I heard her leave in a hurry, and I think I heard some arguing...and slamming of doors." Mrs. Montez had a way of just knowing exactly everything that went on in her house. The great relationship she had fostered with Gabriella was a big part of that, too.

Gabriella looked down. She had almost completely forgotten about Taylor, wanting to ask her mom who Taylor was, but she knew she had to at least give a relatively mature response, especially if she was going to tell her mom that she was eating at Mrs. Bolton's place...with Sharpay.

"Yeah, well it was just a simple misunderstanding that got taken a little too far for no big thing." Gabriella decided to play it as nothing more than just a little friendly dispute.

Mrs. Montez folded what seemed to be the last pair of blue kitten socks that Troy had also given Gabriella, but two Christmases ago. "Okay." Mrs. Montez sang back.

"Hey, mom." Gabriella began.

"Yes?" Mrs. Montez started brushing her hair and rearranging some of the photos that lay on top of her dresser.

"Would it be alright if I stepped out for lunch and went to Troy's mom's place?" Gabriella asked, pulling that genuine, easy charm that she always managed to pull off so effortlessly.

Gabriella's mom looked at her watch. "Um, okay, as long as Mrs. Bolton is okay with having you over without Troy there. I heard he is on a mini vacay with some of his guy friends."

Gabriella could not find a good reason to let her mom know that Sharpay would be joining them, so she just left that little detail out of the equation. Mrs. Montez knew who Sharpay Evans was. She knew all about her little mischievous deeds and scheming nonsense to break Gabriella's heart in any way possible to discourage her from pursuing her talents as a singer, a thespian, a potential star! She also did not like the way Sharpay cozied up to Troy at any availability, with or without anyone's consent. Sharpay equalled trash in Mrs. Montez's book, and she had nothing good saved up for her either. Her poor daughter Gabriella would come crying home every day after rehearsal for their first talent show, remembering what she would say to her mom. It's nothing, just a mean girl trying to do anything she can to ruin lives while clearing the competition. It wasn't so hard for Mrs. Montez to figure out exactly who this girl was, especially because she was a chaperone for all of their school-sponsored afterparties. Who wouldn't notice a flamboyant blonde who trampled her way into things, in her pink attire and glitzy, showy accessories? She was as inconspicuous as a yellow dinosaur in a kitchen sink. She saw how Sharpay would shove fellow students aside, thrusting herself to the front of the stage, the center of attention. No, she thought, there could be no other such girl that matched Gabriella's statement to a tee. This Sharpay was one to ex out.

"Yes, mom, Troy's mom loves me!" Gabriella retorted, triumphantly. She quickly went to retrieve the phone from her bed, and in her haste she had not noticed the three-or-so texts from Troy. As quickly as she was upstairs, she was downstairs again, then spiritedly out the door only to find that quirky blonde frenemy of hers in her shiny, silver corvette.

"Hey girl!" Sharpay shouted from the driver's seat. She had a cute, but smuggish chihuahua in her other hand, as she most likely drove with one hand on the wheel.

"Oh, hey. I didn't realize you would be picking me up." Gabriella said in response, trying not to match Sharpay's enthusiasm in the slightest. She didn't want to come off as overly eager to do potential scheming that could be detrimental to her relationship with Troy. Maybe she should stop, she thought. Go back in the house? No, she shook her head and marched gracefully to the passenger side and allowed herself in, well almost, as the door was still locked.

Click!

"Sorry about that. I have a timer on my doors. They sort of lock automatically, it's this new insurance experiment they're doing to monitor their clients and protect them." Sharpay lowered Versace sunglasses from her glowing hair, took a sip from her fountain drink from McDonald's, put her pooch in the backseat-thankfully, Gabriella thought-and scooted out of Gabriella's driveway in a pinch.

"Okay, so what is the plan exactly?" Gabriella wanted no additional games or roundabouts with Sharpay. She knew that with Sharpay, one had to be a sharpshooter. No dilly-dallying. No extra conversation, for the mere fact that Gabriella just didn't trust the bitch. Gabriella never liked to label people, but she had too many bad encounters with her, and just didn't have the energy or willingness to put up with anymore stupidity, she would claim it to be.

As Sharpay was going at least 90 on a 65 mile road, she turned down her Fabulous music that Gabriella had no idea why she would be playing it in the first place, as it was last summer's thing.

"So, listen Gabriella. I'm not going to lie to you, and I actually sort of feel, like, sorry for you." Sharpay rattled on, as she was an expert at. "So, please don't kill the messenger, but Ryan-you know, my brother?" She stopped, making sure to get Gabriella to acknowledge her very talented brother, Ryan Evans.

"Yes, I do know him," Gabriella replied. "He was our choreographer for our senior project, remember?" She wanted to make sure that she appeased Sharpay. No, displeasing Sharpay while she was the driver was not part of Gabriella's strategy. She had to play it cool, and perhaps give Sharpay the upper hand-for now.

"Oh, good. Yes! Well, my oh-so-talented twin, Ryan Evans, will be on the trip Troy is taking-"

"Will be on the trip?" Gabriella interrupted, without thinking much about the after-effects in terms of Sharpay's reaction. "So, Troy hasn't left yet!" She was livid at this inclination.

"Wow, you really are smart. I didn't even finish what I had to tell you, and you're like Ms. Whiz over there." Sharpay chuckled, then snorted piggishly, but in her cutesy way. "But that's not the best part."

"Sharpay, please just save it." Gabriella could care less about anything that was going on with Troy at the moment. She figured if Troy could be all whimsical and carefree, and perhaps even careless, then why shouldn't she?

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." She finished, not wanting to disturb the mood Gabriella was in. Sharpay wasn't the smartest girl in town. She was talented, sure. She could sing, act, and be a diva, but ask her to make you an omelette and she would probably come back with a fancy wallet she confused for a designer. Gabriella also knew that Sharpay wasn't the sharpest crayon in the Crayola box. She knew that Sharpay would mix up things she heard with things she created herself, and then exaggerate a rumor to suit her needs; but the truth was that Gabriella needed to at least play with the idea of her being a potential friend in the moment. Taylor was nowhere near, and she had not received any texts. She realized that she was a little snappy with her last night, but she just couldn't help it. Call it her period, or a mood-swing, but Gabriella was simply exhausted with trying to balance out her friends' shortcomings for the sake of everyone else but herself. Why was it always okay for her to provide space, advice, and sometimes money that she had saved up to resolve the nuances of her seemingly self-serving friends, but when she was in need of support it felt like an all-out withdrawal of their promise to be there for her.

Thankfully, Sharpay had arrived at the Bolton's. Mr. Bolton, East High's Wildcats coach and Troy's father, came out of the driveway just as Sharpay turned into it. He waved, smiled, then did a retake to realize Sharpay and Gabriella were together in the same car...at his house. Not giving himself another chance to contemplate this potential fiasco, he stormed away.

Before Gabriella could unbuckle and free herself of Sharpay's car, Sharpay made sure to get Gabriella's attention back.

"Okay, so the plan. We walk in. We sit down and talk with Troy's mom. We acknowledge that she has a very talented young athlete and that he should be at home practicing his free-throw so that he can get that scholarship he's always wanted."

Gabriella thought that as ridiculous as Sharpay had been explaining the plan, that maybe she was spot-on with what Mrs. Bolton would think her son would want for himself.

"Okay, but let me do the talking." Gabriella said seriously, maddeningly, to make sure Sharpay caught on.

"That's fine. I don't really like talking to moms anyhow." Sharpay flipped her wavy, belly-button long locks behind her and took the lead.

As they slowly arrived to the doorstep, Gabriella had noticed the few notifications Troy had sent her earlier. It was a little inconvenient to check those now, she thought, since the doorbell had been rung and Sharpay would not mind her own business.

"Oh, hello Sharpay...and Gabriella! What a surprise! Come, I've made some tea and crumpets." Mrs. Bolton was a very petite, captivating woman. She had an athletic body, meaning she led a healthy life and ate the right things. She looked much alike her son Troy, except with longer hair and a more womanly figure.

"Yes, I know they are muffins, but crumpets came to mind as I am watching an English-made Indie film." She started to laugh in a dreamy way, almost as if she were imagining Troy starring in these films. She seemed to already think her little Troy was famous, which in a smallish way was true at East High. He had been captain of the basketball team, the leading star in three of the four talent shows, and was a role-model to so many younger teens and boys who wanted a chance to at least be their very best at what they did.

"Thanks for having me," Sharpay cut in, interrupting the sort of daydream Mrs. Bolton was having.

"Oh, of course, Sharpay. You have been a friend of Troy's for years." Mrs. Bolton snapped back to reality.

"Well, I know I said it would only be me, Mrs. Bolton, but I couldn't help but bring Gabriella with me, as I think you need to hear us out about Troy's best interests, which I'm sure you would be in agreement with as you are his number one fan." Sharpay suggested. Once Gabriella realized that her declaration to be the one to speak was irrelevant, she smiled at Mrs. Bolton.

"Yes, thank you for being so hospitable." Gabriella said cheerfully. She looked so cute in that flowery summer dress that she also had worn on the garden rooftop at East High where she danced and twirled with Troy, confessing their love and commitment to one another.

"Oh, of course, Gabriella. I must say, I wasn't expecting the sudden news, though." Mrs. Bolton sounded a little agitated and displeased.

"Um," Gabriella glared to the kitchen floor, and looked back up at Mrs. Bolton as innocently as possible. "What news?"

Sharpay basically punched Gabriella on her left cheek before Mrs. Bolton could answer.

"So! How about those crumpets!" Sharpay said, worried for what seemed the first genuine time ever.

"Alright, I suppose we could sit outside on the deck and discuss this out there. I mean, this is huge news, and quite frankly I do not know if you should go through with it."

What was this lady talking about, Gabriella kept thinking, wanting an immediate answer before she bursted out demanding an explanation. Here she thought she would be the one calling the shots, and it just felt like she got caught up in her own little trap. Why did scheming for her needs always backfire?

As they situated themselves around a nice wicker patio set and an ornate table, decorated with the most vibrant day lillies and marigolds from Mrs. Bolton's garden, Gabriella could not help but hiccough. She did not know whether she was nervous or just not ready for the surprise news that she should have probably known to begin with. It was about her after all, she thought.

"Wow, Mrs. Bolton, you have the most lovely and spacious backyard. I don't remember it being so big at that championship celebration you threw for Troy and the Wildcat team." Sharpay spoke up after a few minutes silence.

"Oh, thank you, Sharpay." Mrs. Bolton responded. "You are quite observant. Now," she continued, as she served a tasty blueberry scone that she had baked just before the two had arrived. "I hope you two make it," she stared, zooming quickly from Gabriella to Sharpay and then Sharpay to Gabriella, repeatedly. If that wasn't enough to break a hint, she also used her finger to point simultaneously between the two of them.

Gabriella looked sharply at Sharpay, who looked at her in a relative way, the both of them bursting out with laughter.

"Ha! You do mean you hope Troy, your son, and Gabriella make it, right?" Sharpay chuckled, fumbling over her words as she said it. She looked hysterical.

"Well, I guess, anything is possible these days. I mean, if the three of you want to be an item, I've been reading a lot about the millenial generation and sexuality in this book." She pulled out a bright green book titled Millenials: They Want More out and triumphantly smacked it on her table.

"Oh, no, we're just friends,"' Gabriella defended, looking bewildered as she said it.

"I get it. Friends with benefits. Just make sure to take care of my future grandkid!" Mrs. Bolton winked, getting up from her seat in excitement and rubbed Gabriella's belly. "You can only be, what, one month pregnant at most? Sharpay told me the big news. I must admit I was a little shocked and caught off guard, but wowee! I'm gonna be a hip, young grandmama!" She hugged and then kissed Gabriella on her cheek, pulled her hair back and started caressing it.

Gabriella glared at Sharpay. She had never been so humiliated, even with all those times that Sharpay had done so, this was by far too much right now. She had to kill the rumor immediately.

"I'm not pregnant!" Gabriella snapped.

Sharpay hit Gabriella's arm, advising her to keep quiet. "You're going to ruin the plan." Sharpay said in her ear as quietly as she could, though still very resonant.

"No, I'm not going down this road. You are a web of problems and deceit, Sharpay, but I sure as hell am not going to sit here looking like some dumb bimbo who got knocked up by her sex-hungry, teenage boyfriend. No!" She whacked her hand with so much gusto that she jabbed Sharpay in the jaw, and she fell off her seat onto the floor.

"Mrs. Bolton, Sharpay made up this rumor about me." Gabriella confessed, sounding as calm as she usually was, but with an air of uncertainty that Troy's mom surely picked up on, and quickly.

"Are you sure, I mean, how can you be one-hundred percent positive that you are not with child? Never mind, I'm sure I have been amusement enough for you two. Whether it is true or not, I do not appreciate a lie, and one that has to deal with my family. Please go home, and if you want to be reasonable and be honest with me in my home, please do so individually." She was clearly upset.

As Sharpay got up from the floor, she grabbed the scone that was half eaten on the antique, regal plate, and trembled onto Gabriella for support. "Goodbye, Mrs. Bolton! It was fun, we should do this again sometime!" Sharpay yelled, in her over-exuberant way.

The day had passed, and once again, Gabriella found herself in her room, sitting down in front of her vanity, staring blankly at her lonesome-but cute, she would remember to notice-face. How in the world was she going to explain all of the nonsense that went down at Mrs. Bolton's house to her, let alone Troy who had probably already known via his mom's texts. Then Troy came back to mind. She missed his fairy-tale exuberance and dreamlike way of being. She needed him to take her mind off of, well everything.

She reminded herself to finally check her phone, as she was busy the rest of the day helping her mom get some groceries and help with setting the table for her grandparents who came over to wish Gabriella the best at college, and of course give her some extra cash. As she looked down, swiping her phone, coincidence-or serendipity-would have it that Troy was calling her, and at ten past midnight. This could not be good, she thought. Before regretting the idea of missing his phone call and voice altogether, she quickly tapped the green answer button.

"Hello, Troy?" Gabriella said, sweetly as ever, and a bit damsel-in-distress.

"No," replied an auto-tuned, low, eerie voice.

"Who...who is this, and why do you have Troy's phone?" demanded Gabriella. She refused to let herself be intimidated, or at least that was what she was convincing herself.

The voice on the other line paused for what seemed a good two minutes.

"If you want to see Troy...Bolton is his name?" continued the dark, concealed voice.

"Why would I tell you that?" Gabriella retorted, knowing that even as bright as she was, she was not, absolutely not going to prey stupid.

"Well, whatever that basketball-playing, hip twirling, tap-dancing, long-haired, sing-songing-"

"Sing-songing?" Gabriella interjected, letting out a quick chuckle and rolling her eyes, yet still a little bit on edge. This was, after all, supposed to be her prince charming, her hero, her soulmate.

"I'm trying to make this as excruciating as possible for you. Just do yourself a favor and play along." said the voice. It started coughing like an inexperienced chainsmoker would, not knowing how to inhale properly.

"Are you smoking?" Gabriella played along, for her entertainment as well.

"Maybe. You better listen and listen good you brown-eyed, brown-haired vixen."

"Thanks." she said. "Are you sure this isn't Troy?" she laughed, hoping to get some sort of clue.

"You better call your friend Ryan Evans and see what's going on. If you want to see Troy alive, bring me $5,000 to the resort where him and his dweeby friends are."

The phone hung up.

Gabriella started to get slightly worried. Even if it were a prank, these times were too iffy, she brainstormed, especially with how young they were, how much each of them had going for them, and college just ahead. Anything was possible, and especially with them on vacation, who knows what sort of behavior they were engaging in, and with what people. Troy hadn't always been everyone's favorite person. Gabriella knew he had a lot of adversaries, especially from his basketball team and from the other sports teams, which luckily trailed off after awhile, but it was still there and it would keep Troy up all night because of some of the threats he'd received and had told Gabriella each and every one of them before night came.

She knew instantly, instinctively what to do. First check the messages from Troy, she instructed herself. Then respond in a way that he would have to respond within minutes. Okay, here goes.

10:20 a.m.
Gabri, can we talk?

11:22 a.m.
Hey, you there?

11:35 a.m.
I don't feel safe here :'-(

"Shit." Gabriella chanted, goosebumps forming up bother of her arms. She felt like the crown of her head was shooting upward towards the sky in panic.

She paced back and forth around her room in a bit of agony. What to do? She knew it was late and didn't want to start a scare to her mom who had been working like a maid all day.

"I suppose I have to call Ryan!"

She looked through her contacts as quickly as she could, but remembering to at least send some sort of text message to Troy's phone even though she knew that he perhaps did not have access to it.

Wildcat, text me something I would only know.

Gabriella had seen enough Goosebumps and other horror flicks with Troy to know that that tagline seemed to work to nex imposters, or possible psychopaths. They would be left with no arsenal. She was also thinking that these texts from Troy had all come in moments before Troy's mom opened the door to her house, letting both her and Sharpay in for...the most awkward, uncomfortable lunch ever.

"Thank God I saved his number. He was our choreographer!" She paraded momentarily, glimpsing back to when she was in the car with Sharpay. She was useful for once, Gabriella thought, keeping her thinking process available in any way.

"Alright, 313-555-2131."

Bring! Bring! … Bring!

Someone answered the phone.

"Hello?" answered a light, friendly male voice.

"Hey sorry to call so late. Is this Ryan Evans?" asked Gabriella, in a hurry.

"Yes, yes this is him. Gabriella?" he replied, with a bit of worry in his voice as he said her name.

"Yes. Listen, are you on vacation with Troy?"

"Well, we were all together at some point. You see, we all left around three in the a.m. wanting to get a headstart a little east towards Las Vegas, but we were followed by this off-looking road goer in a dark, broken down van with all the windows cracked...I was actually just about to call-"

He was cut off.

"Ryan? Ryan! RYAN!" Gabriella yelled, clearly loud enough to wake up at least the people in the house, mainly her mom and returning dad from work.

She really didn't know what to do except for making an emergency phone call to 911. She had no other resource that was suitable to her at the moment. As soon as she dialed the nine on the dialpad, she received a text message...from Troy's phone.

12:45 a.m.
Gabri, I am okay. I only can text you one message. I can only write so much. Please come to Vegas. Bring Sharpay. Bring what is asked of you. Don't call the police. Stay Out Of The Basement.

And that was the text that would haunt her for the rest of her summer.