Twilight
by I.Want.Fabulous.
Summary: AU When Gabriella Montez moves to Albuquerque, New Mexico to live with her mother, she meets an exquisitely handsome boy named Troy Bolton. She becomes intrigued with him, obsessed. But the more she gets to know him, the more she realizes he might not be wholly human.
Author's Note: Yay, people liked it! And they reviewed! Well, some of them, I guess. But whatever. Thank you to the people who did! The last chapter was a little boring and kind of uneventful, unless you count Gabriella moving to Albuquerque as an interesting event. Hopefully I can make this next chapter better. So yeah, let's get going!
CHAPTER TWO
Gabriella's Point of View
I woke up expecting the usual San Diego sun shining through my window, only to feel my heart drop when I realized that moving in with my mother wasn't just a dream of mine. I looked around the empty room, wishing I could change time and go back to California with my dad.
As I threw my sheets off of me and to the side, I looked out my window and saw that it was cloudy today. I sighed and rummaged through my suitcase, looking for the clothes I had planned to wear to school that day, and I walked out of my room and to the bathroom for a quick shower.
I thought of how my first day would go as I towel-dried my hair and adjusted my plain, light blue, sleeve-less shirt. I was half hoping that they would ignore me and mind their business. But the other half of me didn't want to feel left out and even more alone than I already feel.
I let down my hair after finishing with the towel, my brunette curls cascading down my shoulders. My hair was the only thing I liked about myself. I wasn't so fond of my physical features.
My eyes, to start off, didn't match the rest of me. I'm Latina, Mexican and Brazilian from my mother, and Cuban and Puerto Rican from my father. But my eyes were strangely Asian-like, making me look kind of Filipina.(A/N - Yes, I'm aware Vanessa Hudgens is part Filipina, but Gabriella Montez is not!). And the color, chocolate brown, was just too ordinary.
My skin was dark, which made my eye color much less noticeable. Some people used to compliment me on it, claiming I had it so much easier, not having to worry about tanning every Summer, or so. But I still had a slight longing for my skin to be at least just a little more lighter.
My figure was okay, I guess. Nothing special - at least not to me. In my eyes, I was too petite. My father would sometimes joke about me secretly being anorexic, only to take it back when he saw me dig in like an animal to things such as chocolate cake, or my Aunt Jazmin's home-made enchiladas and rice.
My cheeks were too high for my taste - though that's what people compliment me the most on(A/N - I just LOVE Vanessa's cheek-bones!). The only thing I found nice about them were the rosy pink color they had, due to my healthy eating habits.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is I'm not exactly something special. At least not in my eyes. There are thousands of girls prettier than me. I pretty much think that the only way someone can truly be interested in me is if they look inside - like that's going to happen any time soon.
I grabbed my book bag, the keys to my new - well, new to me - truck, and a map that my mother had left me on the counter before she left. I opened the garage and got inside the truck, trying to convince myself that my first day at school will go fine.
Before I knew it, I was already there, taking my keys out of the engine and making my way through the giant campus and towards the entrance of East High School.
A few kids turned around to glance at me, some of their friends doing the same. They turned back around, no longer interested as I walked into the office.
A young woman was at the desk, typing fiercely on the keyboard of her computer. She stopped suddenly when she realized I was there. She smiled politely at me.
"How may I help you, dear?" she asked kindly.
"I came to pick up my schedule," I explained. "It's my first day."
"Oh yes." She started looking through some papers on her desk. "Here they are. Gabriella Montez, am I correct? Here is your schedule and make sure to have this paper signed by all your teachers and bring it back at the end of the day." She smiled warmly at me. "Good luck and welcome to East High."
"Thank you," I said, forcing a polite smile. I turned around and skimmed through my schedule, looking for my homeroom.
"Ms. Darbus, room 301."
---
"...So let us take a deep breath and inhale the atmosphere of the theatre - " The teacher - who my guess was Ms. Darbus - was cut off by me opening the door slowly. "Yes, how may I help you?" she asked impatiently.
"Um," I looked back down at my schedule, "Ms. Darbus? Room 301? It's my first day." I looked down at my shoes, trying to ignore all the pairs of eyes my enterance had attracted.
"Ah yes, yes!" Ms. Darbus clapped her hands together. "Yes, Miss Gabriella Montez. Let me sign this for you and you can take a seat over there, right behind Jared." She gestured to a seat in the back of the class, behind a blonde-haired boy who I guessed was Jared.
"Thanks," I said quietly, taking a quick glance at all the curious faces. My eyes landed on a certain boy in the very front. His head was bent, obviously not interested in me, or my interruption.
He looked up quickly, as if checking to see if class had resumed. He glanced at me and then bent his head back to its previous position, a slight trace of irritation on his face.
Even though he only looked up for a fraction of a second, I easily noticed his eyes - dark blue, gorgeous, and they clearly held no interest what's so ever of what was going on around him.
I walked past him to my seat, quietly trying to calm myself down. I sat down quickly, glancing around the room once more.
Most people had already turned back around in their seats, some still stealing glances at me. I could hear a few whispers and I looked down, trying to hide the redness that was quickly creeping up to my cheeks.
After a minute or two, I looked back up to glance at the boy. His head was directed to the teacher, but he didn't seem to actually be listening. In fact, he looked frozen, as if he were in some sort of trance.
I looked away, trying to focus on what the teacher, Ms. Darbus, was saying. But she spoke so formal and theatrical that it was difficult to follow. So instead, I studied the room and suddenly understood why this teacher acted like she did.
The whole room was modeled after an actual theater. There was a knight on the back corner of the room, the bulliten behind me practically screamed "Drama!" with it's sparkles and designs and the pictures from previous musicals stapled to it.
In the front of the room there was a large, thick piece of wood stuck to the floor with dark blue curtains hanging from the wall. Over the curtains were the Comedy and Tragedy Masks held up for everyone to see. The teacher's desk was placed to the side of the meant-to-be stage, while a giant red chair stood in the center.
After looking around the room, I noticed the teacher's attire: Long, colorful, droopy clothes hung over her body. By the way it all blended together and dropped to the floor like curtains, it was hard to tell if it was a dress, or a blouse and skirt. Her long, dangly earrings were over the top, just like the exaggeratedly giant, red glasses that covered her eyes.
Her white-blonde hair was piled up over her head, and it was amazing that her neck was able to support that much weight with the glasses, hair, and earrings.
Before I could criticise any more, the bell rang.
"Remember students!" Ms. Darbus called after them, "We still need volunteers for the stage crew! This musical is going to be just perfect! Buy tickets, people!" She walked back to her desk and started sorting out some papers.
I threw my book bag over my shoulder and walked towards the door. As soon as I was out, I felt my left arm collide with something hard.
"Oh!" I yelped as my papers fell to the ground and my book bag slipped from my shoulder and was left swinging from my elbow. "Sorry." I looked up and saw that boy who was sitting in the front the classroom earlier. His beautiful blue eyes were hard as he glared at me. He didn't respond, he just walked away.
I bent down to pick up the loose papers, trying to control my erratic breathing. He already didn't like me; I was sure of it. But it was an accident. I just bumped into him. He didn't even fall over. In fact, he didn't even stumble or take a half-step back. His hard chest made it obvious that I didn't hurt him at all. So why would he glare at me like that?
Wait. Why should I even care if this guy liked me? I didn't even know him. Why should I need approval from a complete stranger that had just bumped into? I didn't. I shouldn't care whether or not he likes me. So why did it bother me so much?
"Need help?" I looked up and saw a girl, seemingly in the same grade as me, bend down to pick up a few stray papers that were far out of my reach. She neatly stacked them together and handed them to me.
"Thanks," I said, getting back up to my feet. I rubbed my arm where it had crashed into the rude boy's stone chest. "First person nice enough to help me today - not counting the secretary."
The girl chuckled. "So what happened?" she asked curiously.
"I tend to be real klutz," I admitted. I looked down at my papers as I heard the girl laugh at my words.
"I realized that," she giggled. "I saw the whole thing. What happened, though? Did you criticise Mr. Lunk-head on his stupid basketball skills? I mean, yeah; basketball is so not as impressive as people think, but you should really avoid saying it aloud - especially to guys like him." She pointed in the direction that the boy went.
I smiled sheepishly. "I don't know what I did," I answered her. "I just accidentally bumped into him and he just instantly didn't like me. Is it possible for people to just hate someone that abruptly?" I looked where she was pointing and exhaled sharply.
"Don't worry. The Basketball Boy is probably just in a bad mood, today. He's usually pretty nice, though." She smiled assuringly at me and extended her right hand. "I'm Taylor McKessie."
I smiled back and shook her hand. "Gabriella Montez," I said. I let go of her hand and readjusted my book bag. "Do you think you could help me find my next class..." I looked down at my schedule. "Chemistry, Mrs. Hayek. Room 308," I read.
"That should be easy," Taylor said. "You're with me. Let's go!" I followed her as she lead the way down the hall and to the white staircase.
"What was that boy's name?" I asked softly.
"Hmm?" She turned around to look at me, waiting for me to restate my question.
"The boy I ran into," I said. "What was his name?" I looked away sheepishly, so she couldn't see the clear embarrassment written on my face.
"Troy Bolton," she answered kindly. "He's captain of the basketball team, his father's the coach, he's starred in a few musicals, and he's the youngest out of his brothers and sisters. His sister Sharpay, and his brothers Ryan and Jason are seniors while his sister Kelsi is a junior like us." She stared at me with a small smile. "Any questions I missed?"
"No," I answered. "That's all I needed to know." That's more than I needed to know, I added mentally.
"Okay," she said, and we continued walking up the staircase.
---
Taylor and I walked to the cafeteria, after she offered to have lunch with her in Chemistry earlier. She started discussing her friends and I found out that they were all on the Scholastic Club, and Taylor was the president. This pleased me; I was real nerd at my last school and I was grateful that I wouldn't feel completely out of place here.
After grabbing our lunch, we sat down and she introduced me to her friends. I smiled politely and shook each of their hands. They were surprisingly nice and I was glad that I didn't have to suffer the embarrassment of sitting by myself today at lunch.
I looked around and saw the boy - Troy Bolton, was it? - sitting with four other people - most likely his siblings. He had a smile on his face as he listened to something one of his brothers was saying. They were all beautiful. The one speaking had spikey, golden blond hair and grayish blue eyes. The other guy had dark black hair and alluring, light brown eyes. He seemed to be the most muscular out of the three. One of the girls had long, blond hair and stunning brown eyes. She looked like a runway model. The other girl was very petite, but also very beautiful. She had short, curly, light brown hair and brown eyes.
Still, as equally attractive as they were, they all looked too different to be related. The only resemblences they had were their pale skin and the dark, bruise-like shadows under their eyes. They looked as if they were suffering from lack of sleep.
"So they're all related?" I asked Taylor in a quiet whisper.
She shook her head. "They're all adopted. But Sharpay and Ryan Evans - the two blonds - are related. They're twins. I think Coach Bolton's wife Miranda is their aunt. She took them in after their parents died, or something like that."
I nodded my head in understanding. "And are they social, or do they just keep to themselves?" I asked, my voice rising just above a whisper.
"They're nice people; they'll socialize if necessary," Taylor answered. "Sharpay and Ryan co-presidents of the drama club and Kelsi is the music composer and pianist, so it's pretty much obvious that they talk with others. Troy and Jason are on the basketball team, like I said, so they hang out with their teammates." She looked back at them before continuing. "The thing is people tend to stay away from them. They don't necessarily open up to people - only to each other. They're very quiet."
I nodded again as I observed them. They weren't eating. Their previous conversation had obviously ended, since no one was talking. They were all looking away from each other, as if they have just had a disagreement, but nobody seemed upset. The blond, Sharpay, was lazily checking her reflection in her pink compact mirror. Ryan was picking at his french fries, a look of disgust on his face. Jason had his chin rested on his right hand and his eyes were closed. Kelsi was writing in her blue notebook and Troy was staring at the ceiling. Basically, they all just seemed bored out of their minds.
I sighed and tried to tear my eyes away from them unsuccessfully. They were too unbelievably beautiful to look away. Just then, Troy turned his attention away from the ceiling, only to lock his hard, gorgeous, blue eyes with mine. His stare wasn't mean; it was curious and alert, as if someone had called his name. I quickly forced myself to look away from them and looked down, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"You okay, Gabriella?" one of my table mates, Martha, asked me.
"Oh, yeah," I answered, nodding my head. I added a quick smile and glanced back at the table. He was still looking at me. His eyes were no longer alert; he seemed puzzled. I looked back down, this time checking to see if anyone else noticed.
I had no idea why, but I had a strange feeling that my life was about to get more interesting.
---
A/N - Ooh, Gabriella and Troy finally notice each other! Haha. I'm not too happy with the beginning of this chapter, but can't think of a better way to fix it. So I'm just going to have to leave it like it is. Review, pretty please!
xo Gaby
