Author's Note: Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I did explain my reasoning for that in chapter one. I hope you're not too angry with me for not updating sooner, but this chapter was…difficult to grasp? Usually I write about Troy and Gabriella being in a relationship, and building only a friendship between them has been kind of tough for me. Also, I feel that I must address this fact before I continue the story: I have the most amazing reviewers in the whole world! I loved every single review I got, and as a reward, I now present to you the next chapter!


Chapter Two:

Gabriella walked briskly down the sidewalk, en route to her apartment, her head bowed towards the ground as she thought about what had taken place just seconds beforehand. A visionary of Troy's face raced through her mind, and she couldn't help the small smile that had formed on her lips. It was really him- her Troy- and she would be seeing him whenever she went to his office for a visit. It was as if her guardian angel had known how much she'd needed someone familiar in the strange new world that she now lived in. In her mind, she pictured the two of them becoming friends again, maybe having coffee together sometime. Of course, she wasn't expecting anything more. All she wanted was a friend in this forsaken city she referred to as her own personal "hell".

"Excuse me, miss?" a voice asked.

Her head snapped up, and she blushed as she realized that she was standing in line at her favorite café. "Um, hi," she said lamely.

The young man stared at her. "Can I get you anything, or are you just going to stand there?" he asked.

She winced at his harsh comment, but looked up at the menu with interest, even though she already knew what she was going to order. "Um, I'll have a small strawberry lemonade and cup of chicken noodle soup," she replied. "And a double chocolate chip cookie on the side, please."

The cashier nodded, placing her order and handing it to her when it came up. She took her tray and went to sit in her favorite corner booth. She carefully studied the painting on the wall in front of her before taking a sip of her lemonade. She made a face, reaching over to get a package of sugar from the little display bin and pouring the contents into her cup. She took another sip and smiled. Perfect.

Twenty minutes passed, and still she sat, taking her time eating her lunch. In all honesty, she didn't want to hurry up and go back her apartment. It was drab and boring; she'd had no time to decorate.

"Is running into you going to become routine now?" a humored voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up quickly, only for her chocolate brown eyes to come in contact with his ocean blue ones. "Um, I guess so," she replied, grinning.

"I come here often on my lunch break," Troy stated. "Mind if I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from her in the booth.

She shook her head. "Be my guest," she offered. After he'd laid his tray on the table, she eyed his sandwich. "Um, is that a BLT?" she asked dumbly.

"It is," he replied, chuckling. "Would you like a bite?" he asked, holding it out to her.

She shook her head again. "I hate lettuce, remember?" She thought for a moment. "But it does look delicious…"

Troy grinned and ripped a piece of his sandwich off, sliding it swiftly onto her cookie plate. "Being pregnant causes you to have a change in likings and dislikings," he said. "Try it."

She wearily picked up the sandwich and took a bite. Her eyes widened in surprise. "This is the best sandwich ever!" she exclaimed.

"So I've been told," he responded, taking a bite. "Do you want one?"

She looked up at the menu, and her mouth dropped open in surprise to see the price of the sandwich by itself. "Uh…twelve dollars for a sandwich?" she choked out incredulously. "I think I'll pass."

Troy smirked. It was just like Gabriella to worry about the price. "Gabriella, this is New York. You're lucky it's that cheap," he replied.

"But…damn. I only paid ten dollars for all of this stuff," she said, gesturing towards her tray.

"Would you let me buy the sandwich, if I offered?" he asked, ignoring her comment.

She shook her head. "No, that sandwich is a waste of twelve dollars," she stated firmly.

"Gabriella, I'm a doctor. Doctors don't pay attention to the price of their food. Well, unless you go to that fancy new restaurant in Times Square, where they charge you fifty dollars for a steak," Troy teased.

Gabriella's eyes widened. "Fifty...fuck!" she exclaimed loudly. Every set of eyes in the café turned to stare at her. A deep blush crept up her cheeks and she ducked her head in embarrassment. "Fifty dollars for a steak?" she whispered.

Troy nodded solemnly. "Yes, fifty dollars."

"Who in their right mind would go there?" she asked.

"Doctors, lawyers, arrogant people with no thoughts on how to save their money pretty much," he replied, smirking. "People like me."

"You wouldn't go there if it was the last place on earth," Gabriella retorted. "I know you better than that. You'd rather starve than waste money."

"Ah, you remember me so well," he chuckled. "You're right, however, if it was for food, then it wouldn't be wasting money, am I correct?"

"Maybe," she said slowly. "But I think it would be a waste of money. Even when I do get my chance at being a lawyer."

"So you got your degree, and then…this?" he asked, gesturing towards her stomach. He raised an eyebrow. "This didn't happen on purpose, did it, Gabriella?"

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her brain working on overdrive. She wasn't ready to talk about what had happened to her that night. If she did, she would cry. And if she cried, Troy would feel bad for her. And she didn't want to look like his own personal charity case. In a spur of the moment thought, she stood up and walked over to dump her trash without replying. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her shoulder gently from behind.

"Gabriella?" he asked, shocked at her reaction to his simple question. "You can tell me anything," he added. "I'm your doctor. I need to know anyway, for medical purposes."

"You don't need to know my personal business, Troy," she snapped. "I thought we went over this at your office."

"Gabriella," he pleaded. "Please. Maybe I can help you."

"I don't fucking need your help, Troy, now please, just leave me alone. I'll come to your office for visits, but we don't interact outside of the whole "doctor" thing, okay?" she hissed.

"But Gabi-"

"Don't call me Gabi," she whispered. "You lost the right to call me that when we broke up." Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned and walked briskly out the door.

Within minutes, she was unlocking the door to her apartment. She walked in, slamming the door behind her. Throwing her purse down on the table, she ran the memories of the past through her mind over and over. She sunk down into a chair, rested her head on the table, and started to cry.

Why does life have to be so unfair? she thought to herself. Every time something good happens to me, I have to ruin it by being a bitch.

As she sat and contemplated her thoughts, there was a soft knock on the door. She looked up timidly, knowing who it was. She sighed, but stood up and looked through her peep hole. Sure enough, Troy Bolton was standing there, looking down at his shoes. Gabriella took a deep breath and unlocked the door. He'd followed her, and she knew that she would feel bad for sending him all the way back to his office without even inviting him for a glass of water.

"Come in," she called, her voice trembling.

The door was nudged open, and her eyes met his as soon as he'd stepped through the doorframe. "I'm sorry," he said. "It must be a sensitive subject for you. Especially since you just ran twenty blocks to get away from answering my question. It's okay, we don't have to talk about it right now. Whenever you're ready, I'm here."

Gabriella nodded. "Do you want some water?" she asked bluntly.

He smiled. "Sure, water sounds good at the moment," he replied.

She took two glasses from the cupboard and filled with water from her new water cooler. She handed one of them to him and motioned towards the couch. "We can sit, if you'd like," she offered.

Troy took a sip of his water and walked over to sit. "This is a pretty comfy couch," he commented.

"That was my birthday present from my mom," she admitted. "I didn't pick it out."

"Your mother always had a good taste in furniture," he chuckled. "How is she, anyway?"

"She's good. She still lives in Albuquerque, her company never relocated her. She met a guy, and they're getting married next year," Gabriella said, smiling for the first time since he'd arrived. "Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I've been trying to be like her. But I guess it's not meant to be."

"But you're still the same Gabriella I knew in high school," he said gently. "You're headstrong, and you can be a bitch when you want to." He laughed at his latest comment.

Gabriella's mouth dropped open. "Yeah, well, you're still a jock," she retorted.

"Yeah, that's not a good comeback," he teased.

She stuck her tongue out at him before she sighed and her face became serious again. "Troy, why'd you follow me home?"

He sighed as well, but said, "Gabriella, when you walked into my office, every single memory of you flooded my mind. You'd always been the good girl, the smartest person at East High. When I saw that you were pregnant, I just…well, I was curious. But obviously you've shown me that you're not ready to talk about whatever's been going on, and I respect that."

"You didn't answer my question," she snipped. "I wanted to know why you came here after I was such a bitch at the café."

"I was hoping…that we could be friends again," he said, blushing. "Just friends, like we used to be. Like kindergarten, when you'd meet someone, and become friends…remember that speech you gave me? That's been running through my mind ever since I first saw you this morning. Do you think we could be friends again?"

Gabriella considered the thought for a moment. It would be nice, to have at least one friend in New York. One person she could turn to for help. She hesitated, but finally nodded. "Yeah, I would like that. Just friends, though. Nothing more."

He grinned. "Just friends," he repeated. "Can a friend give a friend a hug?"

"I guess so," she said, smiling.

They laughed together as his arms wrapped around her. "I'm glad we're friends again," he whispered in her ear.

"Me too, Troy, me too," she whispered back.


It was kind of short, but I'm going to try making the other chapters longer, and stretch the story out more. Reviews are like sex; the more I get, the sooner I will feel like doing more. (;