a/n: We came up with this idea one night. It's totally crazy, but I hope you like chapter 2 as much as you like chapter one! These first few chapters are really just a setup for the main plot, but they're good! We'll post the third chapter when we get five new reviews.

Chapter Two: Broken Up

Troy was woken up the next morning by his mother. She had pity on him because of his "head injury" and made sure his father didn't wake him up for the early morning workout. He was grateful but still…

"How many times do I have to tell you? I ran into a locker!" Troy argued.

"Did someone beat you up?" Ellen Bolton asked suddenly.

"What?" Troy asked, "No."

"I'm calling the school. I swear, if someone hurt my little boy…" She walked out of the room talking to herself.

Troy realized when he was trying to put his shoes on that the pain on his feet had increased. He wrapped both feet in bandage tape & slipped his socks on. His mom would never see them. But what hurt the most was his finger. He remembered slamming it in the door & falling asleep on the ground. But know, his finger has swollen & was now a nasty pinkish purple color.

He could never hide this from his mom. But, suddenly, Troy had an idea.

Troy walked to the back of his small walk-in closet & reached for a box labeled "Snowboarding gear" in a black Sharpie marker. It was quite a large box & grabbing it with one hand was hard.

The box toppled off the shelf and onto Troy's head with a crash.

He rummaged through the pile of snowboarding gear until he found what he wanted.

He lifted the thick, black gloves and pulled them on his hands. Troy knew his mom would be suspicious considering they lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico, but he needed to make sure no question were asked.

Silently, Troy slipped down the stairs, skipping the squeaky step on the bottom and picked his backpack off the couch. He'd have to skip breakfast. He slid the backpack over his head and went quickly but quietly out the door. The doorknob was inches away from his out-stretched hand when his father came out from the kitchen.

"Troy," Jack Bolton asked, "Did you eat breakfast?"

"Yes," Troy lied, although his stomach growled while he was speaking, "I had a um…peanut butter on toast."

"You're allergic to peanuts, Troy." His father pointed out, skeptically.

"Oh, well, that's not good. …See you later, Dad," And he reached for the door again.

"Why are you wearing ski gloves?" Mr. Bolton asked.

Troy groaned silently, "I...um…my hands were cold?" It came out sounding like a question, not like he hoped.

His father looked down on him. He knew something was up.

"Dad, it's the new trend. I want to wear them. Please, I've got to get to the bus." He dashed out the door faster then he wanted to. He shut the door on his finger again and bit his lip forcing himself not to scream, opened the door again, and ran down the sidewalk, pulling the gloves off of his hands, wincing when he pulled the right one off and stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans.

He was in view of the bus stop and was waving to his friends when he tripped over his untied shoelaces. He crashed to the ground and scrapped his knees, palms, and chin.

Gabriella rushed up as Troy tried getting up. The full extent of all his injuries form the past days seemed to catch up with him. He could barley stand up.

"Are you okay? That looked like it hurt," She said grabbing his upper arm and pulling him off the ground.

"I'm fine, thanks," Troy said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice. His feet hurt; his finger hurt, and now he could see the blood coming through the dark denim on his jeans. His palms we know covered in small scratches and his chin had started to bleed.

"Are those skiing gloves in you back pocket?" Gabriella asked, pulling them out, "Why do you have these?"

"Well," Troy began, lifting his hands in frustration.

"Oh my god, Troy, what happened to your finger?" Gabriella squealed.

"I slammed it in a door," He said, "Twice," he said quietly as an afterthought.

The bus came and everyone loaded on.

"Troy," Chad sat right behind him, "How was your…dude, your finger…"

"It's not a big deal. I just slammed it in a door and now it's a bit swollen."

"That's the understatement of the century, dude. Look at it! It's broken," Chad told him looking it over.

Troy made a double take, "It's what? …No. It can't be. It's just a little cut." Troy said, not even believing himself.

"Does this hurt?" Chad asked slightly moving the finger sideways.

Troy winced, "No," he lied. That was painful, don't scream. Do not scream.

"Okay…" Chad said smiling, he knew his friend too long not to know when he was lying, "How about this?" He wrenched his finger upwards and Troy let out a scream.

Troy shoved Chad with his good hand. "What was that for?" He shouted, shaking his hand in pain.

"You said it didn't hurt," Chad said, smiling yet again.

"You knew I was lying!" Troy defended himself.

"Yeah, Troy's a bad liar. We all know that!" Taylor said sitting down next to Chad. "But, Gabriella, …your finger's broken," she told Troy.

"Yes, thank you," Troy said frustrated. "I'll go to the nurse when we get to school, okay?"

They all looked doubtful.

"What? I will!" Troy said looking at his friends. They all gave him the same look. "I will!" He repeated.

"We all know about your fear of the nurse, Troy," Taylor said.

"I'm not afraid of the nurse, guys," Troy said defending his last piece of dignity left. "She was going to make me take off my shirt!"

"You're a guy, Troy, that's no big deal," Chad said.

"Besides," Taylor said, "Miss Recker is really nice."

The bus pulled into the school's parking lot and everyone filed out.

"Zeke," Gabriella yelled to one of Troy and Chad's friends. Troy was hiding his hand inside of his jacket, "Can you help me?"

Zeke walked over, the strong, tall kid towered over both friends by a couple of inches. Both Chad and Troy were used to this. It didn't really intimidate anyone. They all know that Zeke wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Troy needs to go to the nurse," She said taking Troy by surprise who was about to dash away when Zeke seized his upper-arm. Troy started to try to shake him off but Zeke was just too strong.

Zeke dragged him to the nurse's office, Troy talking all the way.

"Please don't, Zeke. I'm begging you, as a friend, don't do this to me," Troy begged. "You know how much I hate the nurse!"

"Troy, I'm sorry," Zeke apologized, "But if you don't go you could seriously get hurt."

Troy was stalling as they neared the door, "Look, Sharpay's calling you!" He lied. Sharpay was looking in her compact next to her locker blowing herself kisses every now and then.

"Nice try, Troy," Zeke opened the door and shoved Troy inside. Troy tried to reopen the door but Zeke was standing in front of it.

Troy felt as if the walls were closing on him. He wanted to leave this prison. Now!

The nurse walked into the room.

"Why, hello, Troy," she said with a huge fake smile on her face, "I haven't seen you in awhile."

Troy knew she was thinking of the last visit. She had asked him to take his shirt off so she could see the cut on his chest from his locker door. Troy had opened his locker door and some kid shoved him forward and the corner stuck into his chest. Troy denied there was a cut on his chest like she claimed although it was bleeding right through his shirt. Finally, she got her hands around the bottom of his shirt and was about to lift it up when Troy dashed out of her grip, knocking her to the ground. He ran out of the office so fast that he thought he could reach Pluto in a matter of seconds. He ended up needing a couple of stitches. And going to the hospital did not brighten Troy's day.

"Yeah," Troy said, "I've been too busy, you know, not…getting hurt and stuff."

"Well," the nurse said, "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," Troy lied, "My friends wanted me to come here." For help on his logic he shrugged and pointed out to Zeke (with his good hand, he didn't want Miss Recker to see), who was still blocking the door, and said, "Ask him."

"I will." She walked briskly to the door.

How can I get out of here? Troy thought frantically looking around the room.

There was a small window. Should I risk it? …Yes.

Troy grabbed onto the ledge but his finger was hurting so badly that he let go and fell to the ground. He got up and brushed himself off. He saw Zeke's shadowed figure walk away from the door and the nurse's figure turn. Troy quickly put his hand in his pocket, jamming his finger and he let out a scream.

The nurse rushed in.

"Are you all right?" She asked him. She looked worried. Maybe she isn't so bad after all. I mean, she really cares…Troy thought.

"No. I'm not," Troy told her. "I-uh-I think I-well- I think I broke my…"

He lifted his hand gently out of his pocket, wincing from the pain.

"Troy Bolton," Miss Recker scolded, "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"I…uh…I never thought about it," Troy answered. That was a lie but he felt that that was better than saying, "I'm afraid of you."

"Well," she said, gently grabbing Troy's wrist, "Let's take a look, shall we?"

Troy wondered, as the small, frail, little nurse carefully examined his finger, why he was ever afraid of. She was very kind and she cared about the kids. Besides, she was so much smaller than Troy that he felt as if he could pick her up and throw her like a basketball.

"Troy," Miss Recker said suddenly, pulling out a piece of paper and starting to write on it, "Go give this to the principal and I'll call your parents."

"My parents?" Troy asked, "Why would you call them?"

"I'm afraid you have to go to the hospital, Troy," she said calmly. A look of sheer horror came on Troy's face. "I'm sorry, Troy, but you need to go…"

"Please, no," Troy said, "Please, I don't want to go. You can't make me."

Troy started to back up towards the door. The nurse quickly answered, "Troy, I can't makeyou do anything. But, there's a certain woman, who goes by the name Ellen Bolton…you know her? Hmm… I thought so, I think she can make you go." She picked up the phone and a small form was in her hand.

I don't like her very much anymore, Troy thought as she dialed the phone number. Troy grabbed onto the door handle and then immediately let go. The pain in his hand was growing.

"Mrs. Bolton, don't worry. Troy is going to be fine. …No, he isn't dying…no. I don't think so. …Yes, he is in a small amount of pain." You think so, Troy thought, "No…not mortal pain…his finger is just broken and he needs to get it fixed…ma'am, please, this is nothing to cry about…No, I don't know what it's like to be a mother…yes, I know he is your only son…it's not necessary to come down and sue the school. He broke his finger at home as I recall Troy's friend saying…yes, ma'am. Okay, bye."

"What happened?" Troy asked. "Is she all right?"

"She is in a fair amount of shock after discovering her only child didn't tell her he broke his finger. But, she's okay. She's coming down to the school."

"What! Why?" Oh, God, I've got to hide! But where though? A locker? No I'm too big. A broom closet? Yes! I'll dress like a janitor and hide behind a mop. It worked last time! ,"Umm…Miss Becker, I have to…go."

"Oh, no you don't."

"Don't what?"

"Have to go."

"Yes, I really do!"

Mrs. Bolton started crying the second she saw her son.

"How could you do this to me?" She sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Mom," was all that Troy could say. He hated to see people cry.

Ellen Bolton buried her face in her son's chest. She only reached his chin but for such a tiny woman she was strong. She put her arms around Troy and hugged him until Troy thought he would turn blue.

Troy put his arms around her shaking body and said once again, "I'm sorry, Mom. I thought you'd…"

"Let's just…get to the…hospital," her voice cracked and she broke into another fit of sobs.

Troy hugged her and they both walked to the car in silence.

a/n: There you go! I know you loved it. In chapter 3 you'll find out why Troy is afraid of hospitals, and that is really important in the story. Review please!