Authors Note:Specialspecialspecial thanks to LongHardRoadOuttaHell for beta-ing this chapter!
-----
I know, I know.
I know I shouldn't driving around near the restaurant from last night, trying to retrace my steps, looking for Troy Bolton.
But I am.
And I am because...well because if I ended up without a home, a job or friends, I'd only hope Troy Bolton would come looking for me.
The only problem is, I don't know where to find him. It's 10:00am and my surroundings look a bit different in broad daylight than they did in the dark. I'm not even sure that he'll be in the same spot. Do homeless people like a change in scenery every now and then? What if Troy bought a lottery ticket with my five bucks and over one night he became a multi-millionaire, wanting nothing to do with me?
Hold up. I think I recognize that trash can. And the strange markings on the sidewalk! I must be close. I'm certain this was the way I came yesterday while chasing the bill.
I'm forced to park my car because of the no parking zone up ahead and sprint up the street, excitedly.
"Careful, or you might trip again," a far away voice warns me.
I spin around. He's a few yards away and I walk over to join him. Troy looks the same as he did the other day, still slouching against the building with his legs outstretched, waiting to cause harm to someone else. Maybe he even looks a bit worse as he doesn't have the darkness to partly hide his greasy hair, ripped clothing and bony figure ā not at all like his ripped body back in high school, I notice.
Troy asks, "You're back?"
"Er, yeah. Just wanted to say hi again."
"Worried I spent the money on drugs and alcohol?"
"...No." But his reason is better than my 'I used to have a crush on you' one.
He waves the money at me. "Well I didn't."
"What are you going to spend it on?"
"Food, probably. But I only spend the money I get in emergencies so I'm saving it." His stomach growls shortly after he finishes his sentence.
"Sounds to me like you're hungry right now."
"I like to save it until I'm absolutely dying. I don't get money often. It's the kids who've run away from home that get all the donations. You don't get any sympathy for being a jobless bum."
Ouch. He sounds so defeated that I'm actually feeling guilty about my success. "How long have you been...living like this?" I suppose my questions are a bit rude, but I can't stop myself.
"Almost a year I guess." Troy raises his eyebrows when I sit down beside him.
"What? I didn't exactly wear the most comfortable shoes to be standing in and I don't have anything to do this morning so I hope you don't mind if I stay and chat..."
"No, of course not. I'm glad you're back and I'd love to talk. I haven't had company in a while," he genuinely smiles at me. "So tell me about yourself, Gabriella Montez. Like what did you do after high school?"
"Well, I went to university, then med school and I just started interning at a nearby hospital."
"Did you keep in touch with your friends?"
"Just Taylor, remember her?"
"I think so. She was really smart, right?"
"Yeah, she's an intern too." I pause. "...so do your parents know?" I gesture at our surroundings.
"About me living on the streets? No, they moved out of Albuquerque a while back because my mom got transferred. I haven't been keeping in touch with them. I could be dead and they wouldn't know. My dad had a hard time accepting..." he trails off. "Do you still talking to your parents?"
"Uh my mom lives around here. I talk to her almost every other day." His dad had a hard time accepting what? Darn Troy for being so mysterious.
"That must be nice."
"It is. We've always been close."
"Relationship status?" he inquires in a teasing tone.
"Single," I admit.
"Well I've been single for several years."
"Didn't you used to have girls flinging themselves at you back in high school? You, like, always had one hanging off each arm."
He modestly shrugs. "I didn't date much back then though. In senior year I only had one girlfriend, Sharpay."
"You dated Sharpay?"
"Not very willingly," chortles Troy, "I only did because her dad had connections and could get me into the University of Albuquerque."
So here we are, former basketball superstar and freaky math girl, having a perfectly normal conversation when I blurt out, "Hey, do you want to come to my apartment?"
Crap. What did I just do?! Oh right. I just invited someone who's practically a stranger - who I'm not entirely sure I can trust yet - to come to where I live. My palms start to sweat furiously. I can't just go 'Oops, I didn't mean to say that!' to him, can I? I don't even know why it slipped out. He just looked so hopeless and tired of living in these conditions. It's like when you see those commercials about starving children in third world countries or abused animals and before you know it, you're dialling the phone, ready to donate eight dollars a month to help. Or maybe that's just me.
"What? You're kidding, right?" he asks.
Sincerely I say, "No, I mean it."
Oh no no no. It's like my brain's on autopilot and I can't turn it off. Maybe I should hold my tongue before I get myself deeper into this mess.
"You seem like a good person, Troy, and I want to help you and maybe we could begin by getting you some food and getting you cleaned up." Too late.
"Seriously?" He looks so happy and his whole face lights up at the prospect of starting his life over.
Okay, maybe it won't be so bad. Think of how great you'll feel once you see Troy get back on his feet knowing you helped him. "Yes, I believe everyone deserves a chance at a new beginning." I stand up and hold out my hand to help Troy get off the ground.
I've never been one for spontaneity. This is the most impulsive thing I've ever done, but Troy is just glowing beside me as we make our way to the bus stop and I can't help but feel a little proud of myself.
One car ride later, I open the door to my apartment letting Troy take it all in.
"Wow, it's been so long since I've seen a couch...and look, carpeting!"
I giggle at his amused face and tell him to remove his mud-caked shoes. Once he does, he pads over to the couch that's got him all riled up.
"Gabriella, what's this peculiar pillow you've got here? It's oddly shaped and very furry..."
"Oh, that'sā" But it's too late. He's already prodded my pet cat right between it's eyes and the aggravated animal is now clinging to his face while he back-pedals away. "Troy! Stop pulling his tail, you'll only make him more angry!" I try to save the poor man from the wrath of my pet by gripping on to it's sides and pulling as hard as I can.
"Holy shit! Get this thing off me!" comes Troy's muffled cry for help.
The feline releases Troy's head as I get a good hold on it and pry it away. As I clutch my yowling cat close to me, I gape at Troy's dishevelled and scratched up face.
And I'm sure that if Troy was Antonio, he'd be threatening to sue me right about now.
"God, I hate cats."
"That's just Fluffy's way of saying that you need to shave." I gently set my cat down and it trots off to go sunbathe near a window. "Come here." I motion him over to the bathroom so I can clean his cuts.
"Ow!" he complains as I apply disinfectant.
"Just hold still," I murmur to him before I place a band-aid on a bleeding cut.
"Thanks. Hey, you know, you already make a pretty great doctor." says Troy cheekily when I finish.
"I hope I will." I laugh. "So do you want anything to eat? Er, I'll have to go to buy food because I don't really have much." I still needed to restock my refrigerator. Last night I ate out so I didn't need to go grocery shopping. We walk to my small kitchen.
"No it's okay. I can have anything. Trust me, if you haven't eaten in hours, everything tastes good."
"So do you want expired cheese or a jar of mustard?"
"And how far is the store again?"
"You can stay here. I'll just pop out quickly to pick us up some lunch and get you some new clothes and maybe a razor while I'm at it," I inform him, my eyes trained on his messy appearance.
"Okay."
"Alright," I say as I pick up my purse, "I'll be back in a bit. Bye."
--
You can do this, Gabriella. It's just like when you first brought Fluffy home. But instead of cat food, grooming supplies, toy mice and litter for a litter box, you're going to be buying human food, personal hygiene items and men's clothing. I wish I could've taken Troy along and buy him whatever he pointed out, but I'm not sure if he wanted to walk into a department store with his stench and one-sleeved, dirt-stained shirt.
I enter the clothing section of the store and glance around. Having no idea what to get, I settle for plain blue shirt and jeans, hoping they were Troy's size.
"Are you going to try those on, Miss?" a dull looking store employee asks.
Oh yes, I'm a female in the men's clothing area, holding men's clothing that I want to see will fit me. "No, I'm fine."
After paying for everything and walking out of the store, my cell phone rings and it occurs to me that I could've just called my house, hoping Troy would pick up, so I could ask him what he wanted.
"Hello?"
"Gabriella," says my mother.
"Hi mom."
"I was cleaning the basement yesterday and I found a bunch of your old things, like school awards and yearbooks, would you want to keep them? The house is so cluttered nowadays, I need to make some room."
I'll admit, I'm a sucker for things of sentimental value and I would never throw my memories away. "I can come pick them up."
"It's okay, I'm visiting a friend of mine who lives near you later. I'll drop them off."
"Okay, is that it?"
"Yes, bye Gabi. I'll see you later."
"Bye mom."
"Oh wait! How'd your date go last night? I didn't want to call earlier because I wouldn't want to inter ā "
I press the end call button and head home, making a mental note to apologise for being rude later.
"Troy, I'm back!" I call once I lug everything I bought into my apartment. "Troy?" He's nowhere in sight. Oh shit shit shit. How stupidwas I? I should have locked him outside and made him wait. I hurry to my bedroom, checking if all my jewellery and valuables are there, fearing for the worst. Everything seems to be accounted for, but I can't be sure until my breathing goes back to normal.
"Gabriella? What are you doing?"
"T-troy?" I turn around to find him in the doorway, hands dripping wet, looking puzzled.
"I just had to use your bathroom, Gabriella." He frowns. "If you don't trust me, I'll leave."
"No, please stay. I'm sorry, I got a bit paranoid."
He promises, "I'm not here to steal any of your things. You can trust me."
The ends of my lips curve upwards. "I believe you."
Troy smiles too. "Good."
"I got you some stuff." I pick up everything I dropped in my mad dash to reassure myself nothing was missing.
"Thanks." He takes it and shuts the door of the bathroom behind him. I hear the water running and twenty minutes later, a groomed Troy, wearing proper clothes, steps out into my living room. My jaw almost hits the floor and even Fluffy can't stop staring. He hesitantly questions, "so how do I look?"
"Well, no one's going to know you've been homeless for the past year, that's for sure," I reply.
Troy beams. "Thanks, Gabriella, I owe you so much."
"Don't worry about it. I couldn't just leave you out there, could I?"
"No, you could have. I mean, we barely knew each other and..."
"Troy, I'm glad I was able to help and I don't regret anything. Do you want lunch now?"
"Of course! I'm starving." We sit ourselves on opposite ends of the table in my kitchen and start eating the already-prepared sandwiches I picked up after stopping by the department store. "Thanks again, Gabriella. This is insanely nice and I don't know how I'll ever repay you. Just hours ago, I didn't have any hope for myself, but you've really inspired me to change and I've got to get a job now that I look nice enough for an interview, then I'll need to find a place of my own - "
"You're leaving? But you can stay," I hastily interrupt him.
"That'd be too much."
"No I wouldn't mind if you stayed for a while, because I couldn't just send you back out there. If it makes you feel any better, once you find a job, you can pay half the rent."
"Seriously?"
I nod. "Yeah, and I think Taylor knows someone who owns a restaurant and is looking to hire waiters. I could ask her about it if you'd like."
"Wow, it would be great if you could." He grins.
"And you know, I'd enjoy the company. Taylor's kind of my only friend right now and as great as she is, she's pretty busy, so I get lonely. Give me five more years and I'll bet they'll be twenty more cats running around this place," I joke.
"I know how you feel about the loneliness," Troy sympathetically says. We spend a few more minutes to eat before he pipes up again. "So just out of curiosity, what were you doing last night, before we met?"
"I was on a date," I answer.
Troy raises his eyebrows, unsatisfied with my vague response. "And he let you walk home by yourself? It's pretty dangerous for a gorgeous woman like you to be out that late. I mean, there are scary homeless guys everywhere..."
I laugh and blush slightly at his comment about my non-existent good looks. "Yes, but it was my fault. He got mad...he tried kissing me but ended up breaking his nose instead."
"You that bad, Montez?" he questions.
"No! I ducked out of the way and he hit the brick wall behind me, but it was just a reflex. I didn't mean to hurt him."
"He was that appalling then?"
Scoffing, I reply, "No, he was a gorgeous Italian model for your information."
"So why didn't you want to kiss him?"
"Well...I don't know. I don't think I've ever kissed a guy properly before and I was scared."
"Never kissed a guy properly?"
"You're not supposed to bash teeth or have spit running down your chin, right?"
He doesn't answer, but instead throws his head back and laughs. Now I would have normally been offended, but for some reason I feel a strong sense of familiarity like we've been friends for years and I simply grin back.
--
Author's Note: You'll find out what happened to Troy in the next chapter. I'll try and update as fast as I can, but I'm juggling two stories. This one and a co-written one with my friend (link is on my profile page). And I'm trying to make my chapters longer so that takes a bit more time to write too. Hopefully no update will have less than 2000 words.
