Author's Note: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for your reviews they were all great encouragement! And they all meant so much to me! Some of you mentioned the eating disorder and how some people play it off as nothing serious, I just want to reassure you that is not what I'm doing at all! I can't stand when books and shows just dismiss them and have the characters develop an ED and then cure them in one episode because that is so far from real life. Also, I know the first chapter and this one might be a little bit slow, but I wanted to introduce the characters and their situations in these chapters. Anyway, here is Chapter Two!
I don't ever wanna feel,
Like I did that day.
Take me to the place I love,
Take me all the way.
--Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers
He just wanted to give up. He had tried to engage the girl in conversation for years and he was getting sick of trying. Whenever Troy Bolton tried to talk to Gabriella Montez, the exotic beauty always seemed uninterested in making any attempt at a conversation. And now she probably thought he was a stalker or something; the way he just magically appeared on her front lawn the second her black SUV pulled into the driveway and then questioning what her every move on Friday night would be. Troy sighed and ran his tanned fingers through his chestnut brown locks, maybe Gabriella was one of those girls who liked to be the chaser? That didn't make sense though, every other guy she had dated had pursued her first. Maybe she just flat out didn't like Troy? That didn't make much sense to him either, he had honestly never met a girl who didn't like him, even female teachers seemed to favor him.
Troy picked up the bright orange basketball he had abandoned in his driveway and dribbled it into the garage leaving it in a corner, safely away from the three cars parked inside. The ball was his lucky ball, it had been the ball he used at his first day of tryouts freshman year, the day when the sparkling blue eyed boy had been the first freshman to ever make the Varsity team. If any of his other balls were to get run over by one of his parents Mercedes or his own Audi, he wouldn't really care. Basketballs were in fact replaceable and he had plenty more. He credited his lucky ball with everything that went right in his life and if it were to get carelessly smashed under a strip of heavy black rubber he wasn't sure what he would do.
"Troy, is that you?" his mother called the second he pulled open the garage door.
"Yeah," Troy replied shortly, rolling his piercing eyes. Who else did she think it was?
The perfect figure stepped into the dining room and closed his blue eyes in disgust. His family was sitting down to home cooked meal on a Thursday night, but for some reason the dining room table looked like it belong inside a four-star restaurant. The cloth napkins were folded in some complicated origami shape Troy was pretty sure was supposed to resemble a duck. The light coming from the chandelier was dimmed and two gold tapered candles flickered on the table, a perfect eight inches apart.
"Hi dear," his mom said as she carried a plate of rotisserie chicken into the dining room. Elizabeth Bolton had on khaki capri pants, an emerald green Lacoste polo shirt, and her firey red hair was pulled back in a headband that matched both her shirt and eyes. She looked the part of the perfect basketball mom and homemaker she was. "Could you go tell Casey dinner is ready? I'll go get your father."
Troy nodded and paced through the kitchen wondering why they had to pretend they lived in 1953. Couldn't they just eat dinner at their well lit kitchen table like most normal twenty-first century American families? But that would probably ruin the air of Donna Reedesque perfection his mom liked to give to the world.
The boy stepped into the family room where a petite girl sat on the floor playing with two Barbie dolls while the Disney Channel played softly in the background. The girl had the same red hair and fair skin as their mother, but when she looked up it was clear she had been blessed with the same shocking blue eyes her older brother had inherited from their dad.
"Troy!" the small girl squealed, jumping up from her toys and running toward the older boy.
Troy smiled brightly at the seven year old girl hugging him, "Hey Case. Are you ready to eat?"
The girl nodded and laced her fair fingers through her brother's tan set and dragged him back in the direction he had just come from. "Today at lunchtime, Martha Elby took my cookies. I was so mad, they were the really good ones mommy made last night. The chocolate chip ones, with the extra chocolate chips! And do you want to know what she did when I told on her?"
Troy wore an amused expression as he gazed down at his energetic little sister, "Of course I do, Case."
"She lied!" Casey said, clearly outraged at the girl's choice of action. "But then Katherine Fairbanks told the cafeteria helper lady the truth because she saw it too. And guess what happened to Martha for lying!"
"What happened?" Troy asked as the kids sat down on opposite sides of the table.
"She couldn't go to recess!" Casey exclaimed, her eyes wide. Missing recess to an seven year old was like Troy's friend Sharpay Evans missing a party, the most devastating thing that could possibly happen to that person.
Troy chuckled, "Well she deserved it for taking your cookies and lying."
"Is she still going on about that damn story?" a man's voice asked. Troy looked up and saw his dad sliding into his chair at the head of the table. "It's just a couple cookies for God sake."
Troy looked across the table at his little sister and frowned. Casey was looking down at her plate avoiding everyone's eyes. He kicked her chair softly and she looked up at her older brother. Troy gave her a reassuring smile and she tried to reciprocate. Their father was a car dealer and owned three successful dealerships in Spring Lake Meadows. He was the perfect car salesman, even embodying the traits at home. Thomas Bolton was loud, pushy, self-centered, always right, and easily irritated if anyone tried to question him or his authority. Troy was the spitting image of his dad: chestnut brown hair, a golden tan, muscular--but not overly so--and of course their piercing blue eyes. They also shared a love for basketball, but all similarities between the men ended there.
"She was upset," Troy defended his younger sister. "You would probably come home and do the same thing if one your employees did that. In fact, you have come home complaining about them taking a pen from your office," Troy reminded his dad smugly.
Elizabeth Bolton's eyes shot up from the chicken she was carving and looked across the table to her husband, who looked ready to pounce. "Boys let's just eat dinner. We all came in on the wrong foot, just take a step back and restart," she interjected before Thomas had the chance to snap back at their son. The role of peacekeeper always seemed to fall on Elizabeth's shoulders, especially when emotions ran high in the house during basketball season.
Thomas nodded at his wife, "So Troy, is the team ready for the game tomorrow?"
"Casey, sweetie, pass me your plate and I'll cut your chicken for you," Elizabeth said, trying to distract the men of the family from what was sure to become a blowout. In any normal household, Thomas' question would have been out of sincere curiosity for his son's sports team. In the Bolton home however Thomas used basketball as tool to bully his son.
Troy took a bite of his chicken and nodded, "Yup. We're gonna kick Menendez's a... butt," he saved himself remembering his little sister across from him.
Thomas served himself broccoli from the serving dish in front of him. He then took a sip of the red wine in front of him and stared at his son, his piercing eyes drilling a hole in the side of the boys caramel colored head. "Menendez is a good team, are you ready for the game?"
Troy abruptly swallowed the food he was chewing and locked eyes with his dad. This was it. This was always it. "I'm the best player on the team, of course I'm ready."
Thomas laughed at his son, it wasn't a nice laugh it was more of a doubtful laugh. "We'll see about that son. You do know who was the first player to lead their team to a winning game against Menendez, right?"
The younger man closed his eyes, the sparkle somewhat dimmed from them. "Yeah dad. You."
Thomas nodded haughtily, "That's right son. And every year after that East High beat Menendez. Of course, none of the other captains led their teams with quite as big as a victory as I did. It would be ashame to be the first captain in twenty-five years to lose to Menendez."
"Well then it's a good thing we're not gonna lose," Troy said. He pushed his plate away from him, not hungry anymore.
"You'll never get quite as many points as me though, you're just not as good of a player," Thomas said lowly, trying to intimidate is son.
"Thomas!" Elizabeth snapped. Snapping was all she would do though, she would try to keep peace, say her husband's name in a warning tone, but that's all she would ever really do.
"It's the truth," Thomas said. "I just think it's best to be honest with our son. At least that way he knows what he's getting himself into."
Troy angrily pushed his chair back from the table and threw his napkin on his plate. "Dinner was good mom," he said storming off.
"Troy," his mom's voice called after him, "I made Lemon Pound Cake for dessert, your favorite," she pleaded with her sons retreating back.
The tan boy ignored his mother's pleas and stormed up the staircase hidden in the right hand corner of the kitchen. Un-fucking-believable. The night before the second biggest game of the year and his dad was cutting him down, not that Troy was really surprised. In fact he wasn't surprised at all. Cutting his son down was what Thomas Bolton did best, he was a great car salesman because he perfected his bullying techniques at home.
Thomas had been an all-star basketball player in high school, he was the best of the best until a knee injury senior year kept him from getting scouted for college. Without playing in college he was forced to kiss his dreams of NBA stardom goodbye. As a sophomore he was the youngest player in East High's history to make the Varsity team, that is until his son made Varsity as a freshman. When Troy had made the Varsity team, his dad insisted his son wasn't a better player than him, that wasn't possible, the kids trying out that year just really sucked. No matter what Troy did, how well he played, how hard he practiced, it still wasn't enough to beat his dad. It didn't matter that Troy was a thousand times the player his dad ever was, Thomas Bolton got a thrill out of making his son feel inferior.
He had always pushed Troy to be better than the other kids, even in Little League. 'Always be better than the next guy, Troy. Winning is everything.' Thomas would remind his son after practices and games. His mother would sigh from the passenger seat, but she would never say anything. When they got home from the games she would tell her son how proud she was and what a good player he was, but the compliments never matched his dad's intimidation and pushes to make Troy a better player.
Two years ago on November 24 was the day Troy Bolton couldn't take it anymore. Two years ago on November 24 was when sparkling blue locked on sparkling blue and Troy was pushed over the edge. It was the day of Troy Bolton's first Varsity basketball game, it was the day that would change his life forever, in more ways than one. It was the reason why Troy Bolton was so fucked up.
The sweet smell of pancakes and bacon drifted up the stairs as Troy Bolton headed towards the kitchen for breakfast. He was dressed for school, ready to head to the bus stop as soon as breakfast was over. Bus rides were the plight of being a freshman, your oldest friends were still only 15 and no one had their drivers license yet. Five days a week, twice a day, innocent freshman were forced onto a yellow, metal contraption to get to school. It wasn't fair to torture innocent children on the way to six and a half more hours of torture, Troy always thought.
Troy deposited his backpack on the last step and sat down at the oak wood kitchen table with the rest of his family. "Breakfast looks amazing mom," Troy said smiling at the red haired woman as he drowned the pancakes in front of him in syrup. In true Mrs. Bolton fashion, breakfast was always a family affair and no matter what day of the week, everyone sat down for a full breakfast together. Cereal bars on the go was unheard of in the Bolton household.
"I put chocolate chips in the pancakes since it's such a special day," Elizabeth winked at her son.
The guttural clearing of a throat came from behind the Spring Lake Meadows Times and suddenly the newspaper folded down to reveal Thomas Bolton. He stared at the pancakes on his son's plate and shook his head. "Pancakes, Troy?"
Troy looked down at his plate, "What's wrong with pancakes?" He mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Thomas raised his chestnut colored eyebrows at his son as if to say, 'You really don't know?' Instead, he said, "Nothing at all, son."
Troy focused on his dad for a second, trying to decide if anything else was going to be mentioned on the pancake subject before he took another bite. When his dad picked up the paper, Troy shrugged and took another bite of the pancakes, assuming they were safe to eat.
"Sugar, fat, that's going to slow you down tonight, make you weaker. More vulnerable," Thomas said from behind the newspaper.
Troy stopped chewing and looked at the black writing on gray paper hiding his dad. "What should I eat?"
His dad peered over the top of the paper and looked his son up and down. "Protein," he said simply. "Maybe some carbs, but not sugary carbs."
Troy nodded slowly and thought about what his mom usually packed him for lunch. A turkey sandwich, an apple, and whatever dessert she had baked that week. If he skipped the dessert that would be fine, right? Troy had never paid much attention to nutrition labels or in health class. He knew bread was a carb, but what foods contained protein? Meat had protein or did vegetables have protein? Now he couldn't remember.
"Troy, you're going to miss the bus," Elizabeth said, snapping her son out of his food curious daze.
"Right!" Troy said, jumping up from the table and grabbing his backpack. "See you after school," he said kissing his mom and groggy five year old sister on the cheek.
He heard the rustle of the newspaper as he headed toward the foyer, "Wait a second son. I'll walk you out," his dad's loud voice came from behind him.
"What food should I eat to get carbs and protein?" Troy asked the older man as they walked through the house.
Thomas' eyes locked on his son's, bright blue on bright blue. "Look Troy," Thomas said as they stood in the foyer, Troy's hand on the front doorknob, "as hard as you try and as much as you want to be, you're not that good of a player. You're never going to be as good as your old man. I know you try son, but sometimes it just comes down to talent and you just don't have a whole lot. I know you want to eat the right thing to help your game, but eating a little extra bread and meat isn't gonna turn you into something you're not."
Troy's stomach felt like it was being stabbed with a million knives. He wanted to collapse to the ground as his bright blue eyes glistened with tears, but he couldn't cry. He wouldn't cry. He wasn't going to give his dad the satisfaction of knowing that he hurt his son. Troy pulled open the front door and ran towards the street, leaving his dad standing in the large doorway of the Tudor style home watching his son go. Troy couldn't breathe, he wasn't a good player? How the fuck wasn't he a good player. He was the first freshman to ever make the Varsity team, even his dad didn't have that to brag about. But, maybe his dad was right about what he had said when Troy first made the team, 'Damn, Varsity Troy. That's an embarrassment for the team, they must not have had a good turnout this year.'
Troy walked to the bus stop, hands in the pocket of his East High Basketball Team sweatshirt, pondering his options. He could always quit, but then he would have to live with his dad calling him a quitter that rest of his life and reminding him that only losers quit. Plus, being a freshman on Varsity got him girls and he wasn't about to give up that perk of the game. He could overload himself with carbs and protein. His dad had mentioned bread and meat, he could easily binge on those food groups at lunch and as an after school snack. But, if he overate that would just hurt his game, whenever he was full he couldn't run as well.
"Yo, Bolton!" a voice called from the intersection of Willow Tree Drive and Plantation Estates Boulevard, the main road in Troy's neighborhood.
Troy looked up from the cobblestone street and saw a black and chrome Ford F-150 sitting in the middle of the intersection. The driver's window was rolled down and in the seat was Jake Barrett, Jake was a senior this year and captain of the basketball team. In the passenger seat Troy saw a pretty blonde girl, Jake's on and off girlfriend. Troy was drawing a blank on the girl's name. "Hey Jake," Troy yelled back somewhat less enthusiastically than the older boy.
"Where you headed, man?" Jake called.
Troy pointed in the same direction Jake's car was headed, "The bus stop."
Troy heard Jake and his girlfriend laugh as he got closer. "Nah, just get in Bolton, I'll give you a ride."
Troy reached the truck and looked up at the older boy, "Really?"
Jake nodded, "The backseats a little small, but I'm not gonna make one of my boys take the bus to school. You're a Varsity player, Bolton. You play with the big boys, you can ride like the big boys."
Troy smiled gratefully at the boy and climbed in the backseat. Jake hadn't been lying when he said the back was small. Between the already cramped backseats pick-up trucks always had and the subs Jake had installed to make the car's base even louder, Troy could barely fit. But, when he thought about the rest of his class' faces when he pulled up to school with Jake and Jake's, the cramped space was worth it.
"You ready for the game tonight, man?" Jake asked the younger boy.
Troy shrugged, "I guess, I'm kinda nervous," he admitted.
Jake laughed and ran a hand through his dark blonde hair before reaching across the center console and locking hands with his girlfriend. Troy looked on jealously at the easy manner the older boy conducted himself in. Troy wished that he could have the same confidence about his game and girls that Jake seemed to have. "Don't worry about it. You'll be fine. I can give you a little help if you want," Jake offered.
His girlfriend's eyes darted from the windshield she had been staring out to her boyfriends face. "Jake," she sighed, "he's what, fourteen?"
Troy eyed the couple curiously. What had Jake meant when he said that he could give Troy a little help if he wanted? From his girlfriends reaction it didn't really sound like he was going to give Troy any pointers on free throws or something of that nature.
"Who cares Amanda, he's a Varsity player. He can handle himself," Jake said to his girlfriend. "It's not your problem okay? And little man can say no if he wants."
Amanda rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, "Okay sure he can. Cause you did when you were a year older than him."
Jake ignored his girlfriend and glanced at Troy in his rearview mirror. "Troy, what do you say? Want me to give you a hand?"
Troy glanced at Amanda, whose pretty features were looking Troy up and down. "What kind of help?"
Jake laughed, "Of the uh... herbal kind. And if you're interested in the performance enhancer kind too."
"You mean steroids?" Troy asked, wondering what exactly went on when the coach wasn't looking.
Jake shook his head as the F-150 approached the student parking lot. "No man, that shit will fuck you up. Are you up for skipping first with me so I can show you what I'm talking about?"
Troy thought for a second. He had biology first period. It was his worst subject and the only time of the day besides lunch he saw Gabriella. On the other hand he had one of the most popular kids in school offering to give him help with his game. He could skip one day of learning about the different stages of mitosis if it meant he wouldn't embarrass himself at the game tonight.
"Yeah, I'm game," Troy said somewhat nervously.
Jake grinned in his rearview mirror, "Bye baby," he said to Amanda. "I'll see you at lunch. Bolton move up front."
"Whatever, Jake," the girl responded as she jumped out of the car. "Be careful, okay?" she said to Troy as Troy climbed into the seat she had just left.
"Alright, man. We're just gonna drive back to baseball fields. No one goes back there during the day so we'll be clear to just chill," Jake said. He pulled out of the student parking lot and made a right, going past the school. He then pulled into a dirt parking lot less than two minutes later at the fields and put his truck in park. "You ever smoke weed before?"
Troy shook his head, as Jake leaned over him and started digging through the glove box. He pulled his hand out and with it came a small Ziploc bag of what Troy thought looked like oregano, but he assumed was pot, and a Zippo lighter. "I thought weed makes you slow and just relax?" Troy asked the older boy.
"It does," replied Jake, now drilling two holes in an old Sprite can with his car key. "This will help take the edge off your nerves. Smoke a little bit of this stuff the morning of a big game and you won't be worried about how you'll play at all. It'll wear off by the end of the day, if that. And as soon as it wears off, I have something for you that'll up your game just a little bit."
Troy looked nervously as the older boy pulled the foul smelling plant out of the baggie and placed a little bit over one of the holes he had made. Troy watched carefully as Jake put his mouth over the real mouthpiece and lit the plant on fire, inhaling the from the can. "It's good shit, Troy," Jake said. "You up for trying a little?"
Troy nodded somewhat hesitantly. "Sure."
Jake passed the boy the Sprite can, "Sorry your first time is gonna be out of this piece of shit. I can't find my pipe. Now what you want to do is cover the hole on the bottom of the can with your thumb, can you find it?" He waited for the boy to give him a nod before moving on to the next direction. "Okay, now put your mouth on the mouth hole. I'm gonna light it for you since it's your first time, all you have to do is inhale. You good?"
Troy nodded again and watched as the lighter flickered and Jake lit the pot for him. He followed his instructions to inhale and repeated the process of few times. "Woah," said Troy, when the boys finished the weed.
Jake laughed, "How you feeling?"
How was he feeling? "Great!" Troy responded, and it was the truth. His dad's comments seemed to vanish from his mind for the first time in his whole life. All he could think about was the feeling he had, he felt like he was floating on a cloud, a magical cloud where nothing would ever go wrong. "So this is what being high feels like?"
Jake laughed at the younger boys naiveté, "Pretty fucking awesome, huh? If you like this you'll love what I'm about to give you." He reached into the center console and pulled out another plastic bag, instead of weed, the bag was filled with little white and blue pills. "You know what Adderall is?"
"That ADD medicine?" Troy asked.
"Yeah, except I don't use it for ADD. It's an amphetamine and gives you just a little extra energy to play. It's a lifesaver, you have a little more endurance and a little more stamina. It'll bring out your best game. You interested?"
Troy nodded eagerly, it seemed like his questions from earlier had been answered. He could finally show his dad that he was a good player, that Troy Bolton was just as good as Thomas Bolton.
"I'm just gonna give you one, if you like I'll get you more, no problem. Take it around three o'clock, it takes about an hour to kick in and that way you have a few hours to get used of the feeling before we play. It's 50 mg and it'll last for about twelve hours. Sometimes you can't sleep when you're on them either, so don't be surprised if you don't crash until three A.M."
Troy looked at small pill Jake handed him as the boys drove back to the student parking lot. He tucked it safely in his front right pocket, knowing exactly where it would be for later. As the boys walked up to the building together, just in time for second period, Troy had no idea what the drugs he had just accepted were going to do to him.
Author's Note 2: Okay so I know I said yesterday that Gabriella would be in this chapter as well, but when I reread it just before I posted I decided she really just didn't fit. I wanted this chapter to really introduce Troy's problems and show the seriousness and roots of them. These last two chapters were very introductory and I promise they'll get more exciting starting next chapter! I'm also putting up a little umbrella so the tomatoes you are probably about to throw to do too much damage now that you all know that Troy has a drug problem. Thank you all for reading it and I hope you have as much fun reading my work as I do writing it!
