This story is dedicated to the lovely Lali and awesome Ashlee, because they're two pretty cool kidss ;D
Dreams are a fickle sort of thing. Everyone claims to have a dream--even the high school dropouts making their ways selling drugs downtown--but what exactly does anyone do to reach them? Too many times dreams die while being put on hold for what, at the time, seems more important. Progress halts for things going on "in the now," things that won't mean anything a few years down the road other than the cause for regret and bitterness. But dreams are always changing. Nothing about them stays constant, always morphing and tweaking as the people who have them change as well. If there was one thing Troy Bolton liked, it was consistency.
He never believed that crap where one day someones life's ambition was to be a doctor, but then the next minute they're off to Hollywood to star in a movie. No: if you have a dream you stick to it, simple as that. Everyone knew Troy's dream; it had been set in stone for a long time and was one of the most obvious aspects about him. Roses were red, violets were blue, celebrities were running in and out of rehab, and Troy Bolton was going to be a basketball legend. Not even starring as one of the leads in a musical could change that kind of ambition.
There was something about the sport that got to him. It was that adrenaline he got as the clock ticked down, the sweat fell in rivulets down his body, and the fans waited with bated breath as he would steal the ball from the opposing team, shoot, and win the game. Nothing else gave him the kind of high he got when that rubber sphere slipped from his fingers and, for a gravity-defying moment, soared through the air to come into contact with the net.
After a lifetime of practice, this was what it all came down to each and every time. Fifteen minutes left on the clock of the East High Wildcats' homecoming game. East High wasn't like normal high schools; most people attributed it to the fact that their football team sucked. After a decade straight of no-win seasons (the best ever made was a 1-6 record in '98 before they forfeited the rest of the season), alumni and parents stopped supporting the team. The cheerleaders, predictably, would rather cheer for a winning team and the old traditions began to change.
"This truly is the battle of the felines now. The Wildcats have had an impressive lead in the standings so far, not losing one game yet. But the Bobcats are looking ferocious today as they lead by two points. The question on everyone's mind now is whether or not Troy Bolton get his team together to win in just fifteen minutes."
Fourteen minutes and the score was 56-58, with the Bobcats in the lead. Two points in fourteen minutes was nothing; Troy would never let himself live it down if he lost his homecoming game his third year as starting varsity and, more importantly, second year as team captain. He signaled Chad towards the player in possesion to start up one of their more clever plays.
The large player wouldn't be deterred, whatever angle Chad came at him from. He kept moving, nearly taking multiple people down, as he got closer to his team's side of the court. As he awkwardly leapt to shoot the ball, Chad then put to use one of his famed talents. Essentially, he confused the shit out of him by screaming in a very loud, very high falsetto. It had the desired affect, tweaking his left arm too much to the right; the ball hit the backboard directly above the hoop and bounced back onto the court, back into play.
The Bobcats were in possession again, this time by a smaller guy (and they hoped easier to overcome). Troy smoothly maneuvered his way around the blue-jerseyed player, tapping the ball at just the right angle to dribble it back towards the Wildcats' half of the court. He glanced a look at the scoreboard: Just five minutes remaining. Standing over to the left of the bleachers, Troy noticed his father standing with an older man sporting salt and pepper colored hair. He wore a suit, enough to stand out in the EHS gymnasium in general, and held a clipboard which he kept jotting notes on. Troy wondered who exactly it was, as people attending East High games didn't usually deem it necessary to dress up for the occasion.
Four minutes and counting: The crowd was getting restless, the Wildcats were still down by just two points. If Troy could make it within shooting range, a simple three-pointer and they would keep their undefeated status. Every eye in the gym was on him then. They all knew who Troy Bolton was, and what he was capable of. They knew it was him who would lead their team to victory.
3:56 and Troy dodged a Bobcat gracefully, something he was positive was due to his extensive dance rehearsals for Twinkle Towne. Just two minutes left as the ball was stolen from his hand by an intimidating number 34 and taken nearly the entire way Troy had come. One minute was on the clock as Jason stole the ball and passed it easily; Troy bent his knees and jumped, the ball flying gracefully as it landed with a loud swish through strikingly white net.
"5-4-3-2- And the Wildcats have done it! The Wildcats have won the game! Oh, and what a game it was! Final score: Wildcats- 59, Bobcats- 58. The next game is Friday at Cedar Crest High School, where Troy Bolton and Co. will certainly be tested against the former league champs."
The buzzer ringing was one of the most glorious sounds Troy had ever heard in his life. As the announcer screamed loudly into his mic, the team lifted Troy onto their shoulders, throwing themselves their own little parade. But now that the game was over, and they were the victors, there was only one thing left to do: party like it was 1999.
This was the only time the football field ever really came in handy anymore. An overwhelming bonfire was set up in the middle of the field, some people crowding around it for warmth, others using the large flames to hide their public underage drinking. Troy himself was never the drinking sort. Kegs were always brought out to parties like this, but it never really appealed to him all that much, he was too busy living off of the euphoria of winning--that was enough for him.
And for one more night Troy Bolton was hailed as a hero. He was surrounded by friends and fans (even a few college guys who were on the team last year congratulated him on a well-played game), perfectly content for the moment. Unfortunately enough for him, all good things had to come to an end eventually. Even for East High's most popular, things couldn't be expected to be any different.
xxx
"Troy, my man! We beatin' some Trojan scum tonight?"
Troy wasn't entirely sure who the guy was that approached him in the hallway, but he pounded fists with him anyway, and responded with an affirmative "You know it!" The boy, whoever he was, seemed pleased with the answer as he walked the opposite way down the hall. This wasn't an unusual occurrence though. It seemed everyday he was met by another schoolmate he had never seen before, whether it be a freshman or a fellow senior. It was to be expected, as he was Troy Bolton, aptly titled King of the school, and East High was his kingdom.
Up and down, like a bobble-head, he had been nodding all day long. As Chad, someone he actually knew, tackled him from behind, Troy realized he was definitely going to need some aspirin before the big game that night. Last week's homecoming game was tough, but later that night they'd be facing the State Champions, the Cedar Crest Trojans. He'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous, because he was. The Trojans were known to play dirty, but still they had an amazing team with a nearly unimpenetrable defense.
"Hello to you too, Chad."
"Dude, I am so hyped right now! You ready for the pep rally?" he asked eagerly, bobbing up and down.
"Yeah, I just gotta see if Gabriella's done with her meeting."
"Right, right. Uh, if Taylor asks, tell her I'm ... doing something, incredibly important."
Troy laughed at his friend's obvious ploy, "What, like puffing your hair?"
"Hey!" Chad defended, "It takes a long time to prep these luscious locks."
"Uh huh, right."
"Well whatever you do, just don't tell her I'm in the gym. She thinks I've been spending too much time playing basketball."
"Alright. I'll be there in time for a few warm-ups before the rally starts."
"Peace, man," he said before jogging down the hallway. Troy stifled a small laugh as his friend's large hair bounced up and down with each step.
It was only another minute or so to get to the science wing of the school. As he approached room 127, the Chemistry Lab, he heard various scientifical phrases being sprouted from all ends of the classroom. Taylor had begun a long-winded speech about some competition, or something like that, as he peeked his head inside.
"So we really need to be on our top game. You all know how important this is! But-" Taylor's eyes flashed over to Troy in the doorway, widening as she realized what his presence meant, "ooh, alright, it's past 3:30. Meeting is adjourned, and we'll pick up same time next week."
"Troy!" Gabriella squealed, launching herself into his arms after a bunch of kids quickly exited the room.
"What's up, Genius?"
"I think my head is about to explode! Taylor's going full-on drill sergeant on us."
"Well excuse me for wanting us to do well," the Scholastic Decathlon captain shot back good-naturedly. Then she turned her focus to Troy, "Would you happen to know where my boyfriend is?"
"Hmm, 5'11", hair that looks like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket?"
"That's the one."
Troy didn't even bother to hide his cat-that-ate-the-canary smile. "He's in the gym practicing."
"I swear that boy is going to be the death of me! I thought we talked about this! I bet it's those cheerleaders that watch him play, he thinks I don't see the way they pet his head!"
For about the fifth time that day, Troy had to struggle to keep in the laughter that threatened to come out. His amusement would only anger Taylor more. She was mad enough as it was, if her storming down the hallway, muttering under her breath was any indication.
"Well that went well."
"I just hope Lucy doesn't have her hands in his hair right now, she might not be seeing them again."
"And she just got a manicure, too! Tragic," Gabriella deadpanned.
"So, milady, are you coming to the game tonight?"
She cringed, "I was hoping you'd forget to ask me about that."
"You can't come?"
"I'm so sorry! You know how much I wanna be there, it's just Taylor decided that we need to fit in some practice tonight before our meet tomorrow. If you want, I can see if she'll let me come for a little while!"
"Hey, it's alright. I mean, I'll miss having one less cheerleader, but you do what you gotta do."
"Thanks, Troy," she smiled brightly and leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "So are you going to warm up now?"
"Yeah, and I figure I should probably save Chad... and maybe Lucy."
"Good call," Gabriella agreed with a nod of her head. "Well, break a leg tonight!"
Troy waved his thanks as he jogged down the hallway, too caught up to remember to savor such innocent moments.
xxx
The home of the Trojans looked remarkably similar to every other generic high school gymnasium Troy Bolton had ever been in. The floor shined to perfection, giving a good squeak when his sneakers moved in specific ways, and the maroon bleachers were filled to capacity. Overall, there was nothing he would remember about this place--especially not after beating the unsuspecting team.
Fake right, break left: it was all so simple. Often times he wondered how his opponents didn't see it coming, but he never gave it too much though, as it was the move that had been working flawlessly for two seasons. Shoot, swish, and the crowd goes wild.
"Number 14, Troy Bolton, with another two-pointer! And that brings the Wildcats to a one point lead."
Troy spared another momentary glance to the sidelines. His father stood there, a concentrated look on his face as he talked to yet another man in a suit, once again carrying a clipboard. This time though, Troy knew who he was. His father had told him the other day that it was time college scouts were heading out to recruit and offer scholarships. The man with the unsightly comb-over suddenly turned his view on Troy, and seemed to be nodding eagerly. Now more than ever, he couldn't screw this up. Basketball was his one chance out of this place and into a decent school.
"The ball goes to Number 27, Donnelly, for the lay-up and oh it's a miss. Possession is back to the Wildcats."
It was hard to keep his head in the game with so many sounds ringing in his ears, the most dominant being the booming announcer's voice, but he knew he had to. This was his chance, and he'd be damned if he'd just give it up now. After getting a pass from Zeke, Troy had made it almost ten feet before he saw the player Donnelly come towards him from the right. Patrick Donnelly was a large player, to say the least, looking more like a linebacker than a point guard. He was 6'4" and though his unruly black strands hung in his eyes, the determination in them was still clearly visible.
Troy knew he had to act fast for any hopes of salvaging the game. Donnelly was only two inches away when Troy leapt into the air to shoot. Just as the ball left his fingers, an elbow came at him, punching him hard enough in the stomach to knock the wind out of him. The sensation surprised him, causing a quick twist of his body.
The last thing he saw was the gym floor, the last thing he heard was a crack reverberating through the air, and the last thing he felt was a painful sensation unlike any other. Then everything went black.
a/n: Kinda boring as far as first chapters go, but things will get more exciting soon enough. If any of you out there are basketball buffs, then you know I'm not. I tried to use everything I know about the sport in here, but if anyone knows (or cares) enough to make corrections, you're more than welcome to : )
