Chapter One
Troy.
I rewrote this chapter. I was unhappy with the way the first one came out. So here it is.
Cafeteria food was the most uncool thing on the planet. Half the time I wasn't even sure what I was moving around on the tray. But food wasn't what drew me to the cafeteria at East High every lunch period. It was my loyalty to my friends, Chad Dansforth and Zeke Baylor, who were sitting across from me attacking their fries.
Chad had recently had his off-campus lunch privilege suspended because he'd parked in the Teacher of the Year's reserved slot. I personally thought the punishment was a little harsh. After all, the teacher had been out sick that day and wasn't even using the space.
Anyways, thanks to Chad using the teacher's spot, we were slumming in the cafeteria-and would be for an entire month.
"Hey, Troy, don't look so bummed," Chad told me, moving some of his bushy hair out of his eyes so he could see his friends, which were totally soggy. Some of 'em were even still frozen in the middle. "We only have three weeks left of eating in the dungeon"
I shoved my tray aside, thinking that eating that stuff could make a person seriously ill. "I'm not bummed. Just thinking," I said which was true. "I can't decide who to ask to the dance on Saturday"
East High's semi formal was all anyone was talking about these days.
"Dude, just snap your fingers at the next girl you pass," Zeke suggested before he shoved some thing that looked like orange worms, but was probably macaroni and cheese, into his mouth.
I rolled my eyes and responded half jokingly, "I can't choose lightly. The girl who goes to the dance with who will make a statement about my taste in women"
More for me then my fellow classmates. I didn't want to take just any girl to the dance. And okay, I'm just gonna say this outright even if you think I'm a totally conceited jerk. Any girl I'd ask would say yes. Any girl. I'm serious. Girls at East High like me. Really like me. I felt their eyes follow me where ever I went. Watching, waiting for me to dart a glance their way. And when i did-bam! They always gave me a hundred-megawatt smile like I'd just flipped on the switch that provided the electricity that ran through their hearts.
Troy Bolton, aka me, god of East High. It was crazy.
It had been this way for as long as I could remember. The reason mostly had to do with the way I looked- "Adonis," a lot of the girls said- and the way I acted, like I absolutely didn't care one way or the other about anything or anyone. It was an absolute turn-on for babes, and it earned me the admiration of every guy who darkened that halls of East High.
Why was it so cool to act like you didn't care about anyone or anything? I didn't get it. But it had worked out for me so long that I sorta just adopted it as me a long time ago. I wouldn't even know how to be any different. Anyway, why would I want to be? Being this way got me everything a guy in high school could need.
Expect the girl of my dreams. Not that I knew who that was. So who was I supposed to ask to the dance? It was Monday, and the dance was this Saturday. I had to get moving.
The problem was that I really couldn't decide. There wasn't a girl at East with whom I truly wanted to spend a whole evening. Again, I don't mean to sound like a jerk, but I couldn't drum up enough enthusiasm about someone who was into me just because she thought I was cool or good looking.
As my buds were stuffing their faces with inedible food, I looked around the caf and found some girls checking me out and some totally staring, but I was very aware that no one really knew me. I mean, they all knew the outer yeah-I've-got-attitude Troy, but no one knew the guy underneath that layer of attitude. And I thought, hoped, that guy was a pretty good person.
But like I said, no one knew him. And the truth was sometimes I wasn't even sure I did either. You know?
"Well, you'd better make up your mind fast, buddy," Chad said, "A lot of guys are bummed out about the fact that the hottest girls are holding themselves open just in case you ask them. Why do you think Zeke and I are going stag"
Oh, man. Why did all those girls want to go to the dance with me? So they could walk in with a guy everyone thought was cool and popular? How did they even know they'd like me once they spent five minutes in my supposedly desirable presence?
"You know what, man?" I began. "I wish I could ask some geek who doesn't even know who I am"
"Excuse me?" Zeke said, raking his hand over the top of his head, his brown eyes wide on me. "Why would a geek not know who you are? Everyone knows who you are"
"Yeah, I guess." I stared at my plate. Too bad. It would be truly cool to spend time with a girl who didn't know that I ruled East High, someone who saw something beyond that attitude, looks, and popularity. Someone who wasn't interested in any of that stuff, like the kinds of girls who actually got into dissecting frogs or their math homework. I'd never even spoken to a girl like that before, And that type of girl didn't even notice guys, right? I mean, they were into reading the Canterbury Tales and entering science fairs. Guys and parties weren't their thing. that's the kind of girl I wanted to take to the dance. Someone who didn't even know I was alive, someone who'd actually want to know what I thought about stuff.
"Anyway, who are you kidding?" Chad said polishing of his Coke. "No way would you ask a geekizoid to the dance"
"Yeah," Zeke agreed, popping a fry into his mouth. "Even you care about what people think. You'd never ask some science-fair nerd"
Was that true?
I didn't think so. But was it?
Nah. Definitely not true. "I don't care what anyone thinks," I insisted.
Chad and Zeke both snorted.
"I don't," I repeated. "Why would I? My reputation around here would let me get away with just about anything"
Sometimes I really believed that. My friends did too, apparently, because they nodded.
"If I asked the geekiest, nerdiest, least-cool girl in this school," I added, "I'll bet everyone would think it was my detention or something or that I was doing something charitable. So it doesn't even matter that I don't care what people think because they'd think better of me anyway. But I don't care what people think, so this whole conversation is stupid." I slurped my Coke and looked around the caf to let them know the subject was closed. My friends eyed me, then each other, then looked back to me with evil smiles.
Evil smiles means trouble.
"Prove it," Zeke challenged, leaning forward as if he was on the verge of imparting some wisdom that would better my life. "Prove you don't care what people think. I dare you to take the geekiest girl at East High to the dance"
I raised an eyebrow. "You dare me? What is this, second grade? Gimme a break, guys"
"We dare you," Chad put in.
I shook my head and laughed, then stole the one crisp fry off Chad's plate.
Chad grabbed my wrist. "So? Do you accept or not"
I shook my wrist free and ate the fry. "Don't tell me your serious"
They both fold their arms across their chests and looked at me. "Oh we're serious," Zeke said, his brown eyes way too gleeful. "We dare you to ask a geek to the semi formal. There. You've been dared. Will you accept and admit that you care what people around here think"
There was no way I couldn't accept. First of all, I didn't care what people thought. Second, asking a geekette to the dance would be a totally cool thing to do, a nice thing to do. A geek would no doubt be utterly and completely grateful. I'd be giving her a few hours in the inner circle, entry into the crowd she'd never ever be permitted to walk next to in the hallway.
Just like in the The Nutty Professor. Eddie Murphy had been giving a chance to know what it was to be a total babe magnet. So for one night I would make some geekizoid's fantasy come true. If geeks even had fantasies-other then winning the Westinghouse.
Okay, So the whole idea bordered on being a little mean-spitted. All right, it was a lot mean-spitted. but my friends had made me wonder about something: Was I really above my reputation? Was I cool enough not to care what people thought by asking a totally not-hot girl to the dance? Not even a not-hot girl. A total nerd.
Yeah. Of course, I was cool enough. Absolutely. Right?
Chad and Zeke raised their eyebrows because I seemed to be stalling-Which I was. I was not in the habit of lightly accepting dares. I had a reputation to maintain.
"So you do care what people think," Zeke concluded, smirking. "Very uncool"
"I don't care what anyone thinks," I said for the hundredth time.
"Then take the dare," Chad challenged me.
I sighed. "All right, I will. Besides, accepting the dare will save me the hassle of deciding which girl to ask." Brilliant rationale. "So pick her out for me, and I'll ask her"
Putting their heads together, they whispered conspiratorially. I could see their gazes daring around the cafeteria like a fly at a picnic unable to decided which dessert to land on.
I began to relax. I mean, how awful could this be? It wasn't as if we had a female version of the hunchback of Not re Dame walking the halls of our school. Did we? Oh God.
Maybe I'd just never noticed her before. I mean, why would I?
"You have to ask her publicly," Chad said. "Everyone has to know that you're taking the geek to the dance"
I shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to care, wondering why I had to try. I had accepted the dare because I didn't care. It was an easy dare. "No problem"
A triumphant gleam sparkled in Chad's brown eyes. He looked at Zeke. Zeke nodded. My stomach clenched as my mind heard this thundering drum roll. I held my breathe, waiting for the opening of the envelope. . .
"Gabriella Monte," Chad announced with a jubilant grin.
Gabriella Monte? My jaw dropped.
They totally cracked up, cackling so hard that I thought they might actually start holding their stomachs and rolling on the floor. Chad knocked his fist against Zeke's. They had succeeded in totally bumming me out with their choice. I mean, really, could they have picked anyone worse?
When I thought of Gabriella, I had a vision of an alien with a really huge brain- like the ones in the old black-and-white sci-fi movies. Not that Gabriella had a funny-looking head. It was just that she was beyond super smart. I didn't know how she managed to cram all that intelligence into her head. She was enrolled in honors classes. When she was a freshman, she'd probably been disappointed that we didn't have honors phys ed. It Gabriella's vocabulary cool only applied to temperature, not attitude.
"She's over there." Zeke chortled, pointing behind me.
Hesitantly I glanced over my shoulder and instantly spotted Gabriella. She was the queen of shy. She sat at a table alone, writing in a notebook while she ate. Only an absolute geek would do schoolwork during lunch. She wore thick glasses. I knew I shouldn't judge the glasses harshly. After all, we didn't have much say in how good our vision was, but those clothes. . .dork city. Baggy, loose fitting. Her body probably got lost in them. Of course, if it did, it could find its way back easily enough because of the bright yellow and green would serve as a homing beacon.
For someone who usually blended in with the lockers, today she stood out like a neon sign. Probably the reason she'd captured Chad and Zeke's attention. Her good fortune was my bad luck.
Ah, man, I figured she'd come close to fainting when I asked her out. Girls like her probably didn't even dare to dream about guys at all. Did I sound like a jerk? I just figured that's the way it was. Getting her to accept would be a breeze. The hard part, however, would be pretending that I wasn't totally embarrassed to her to be my date.
Oops. Embarrassed. Did that mean that I did care what people thought or that I cared what I thought? I wasn't exactly sure. Somewhere between the time the dare had been issued and the choice of the "geek" made, my thought processes had gotten convoluted.
But a dare was a dare, and it would be infinitely more embarrassing to back out. "Go on, go ask her," Zeke goaded.
I turned back around and faced them. Suddenly my lunch looked considerably more appetizing than fulfilling the dare. "What's the rush? No one else will ask her, and she definitely won't say no"
Chad eyed me, his brown eyes twinkling. "You care what people think. You can't deal with asking her in front of everybody"
I pointed at him with a french fry. "I've already told you that I don't"
"Then ask her now," Zeke added.
Ask her now. Sure.
I stood up. I felt eyes on me as usual. For once it would be great if no one noticed I existed, if no one followed my every move. Every girl in the caf would see me go up to Gabriella Monte and ask her to the dance. Every girl!
Oh, man.
A few months ago the local news station did some feature about teenagers and who they'd want to be stranded with on a desert island. A lot of girls said me, which I found pretty embarrassing, but my dad got a kick out of it. Gabriella's answer had been Mother Teresa. I only remember that because my dad had commented on it. He'd said that was a good and surprising answer for a teenage girl.
Mother Teresa. Not Freddie Prince, Jr. or Justin Timberlake, or even yours truly, Troy Bolton. She wanted to be stranded with a person who had dedicated her life to good deeds. Not that her choice was a bad one. It's just that I figured if you were asked a fantasy question, you ought to provide a fantasy answer. Then again, Mother Teresa had passed away, so I guess it would be fantasy.
And here I was, about to gift her with one amazing fantasy come to life: an actual date with Troy Bolton. I had to get over myself.
I stopped in front of Gabriella's table just as she was standing. There were a few people sitting at the other end, but otherwise she'd clearly eaten lunch by herself. I didn't think I'd ever done that.
I looked her over. Had I ever noticed how tiny she was? Did the top of her head reach my shoulders? Not that it mattered. The one thing Zeke and Chad hadn't stipulated, thank goodness, was that I had to dance a slow dance with her. If I danced with her at all, it would be something fast. As if she were a puppet whose string had suddenly gotten yanked, she jerked. Behind the thick lenses of her glasses she blinked her dark almond shaped eyes rapidly as if she'd just noticed me standing there and wondered where I'd come from I searched my brain for something to say to a girl like her. I never initiated conversation with girls. I just responded to it when the mood struck. Most girls were content just to ramble on whether I commented or not.
This was totally weird to stand before a girl who wasn't smiling brightly and look around for some sorry of support before he legs gave out beneath her. I cleared my throat. Just ask the question. Get it over with. I turned around and saw Chad and Zeke gawking at me, their hands trained to their ears to exaggerate that they were listening. I turned back around. Gabriella wasn't even looking at me. She was cleaning the crumbs off the table onto the tray. Only a geekizoid would clean up after herself.
"Gabriella?" I began.
She glanced at me with a confused expression, then returned her attention to the crumbs, which she was sliding onto her tray with the help of the side of her hand.
Huh? Crumbs were more interesting than finding out what I, Troy Bolton, could possibly want?
I cleared my throat. "Um, Gabriella, I've decided to take you to the dance on Saturday"
She froze for a second. "Sorry," she said, her eyes still on the crumbs. "But, uh, thanks." And then she turned and walked away.
I stared stupidly at her quickly retreating back. Sorry? Had I heard her right? How could she possibly say no? It didn't make any sense.
Sorry, but thanks.
I didn't get it. Did she mean she wasn't interested in the dance or not interested in me? Had to be the former, right?
I felt eyes on me. The girls sitting at the far end of Gabriella's table were staring at me, their jaws dropped. In fact, so were most of the people sitting at the tables around where I stood.
Oh, man. I wanted to suddenly announce that it had been a joke, just a dare, ha ha. But Zeke and Chad were suddenly at my side.
"What were her exact words, dude? Was she, like, totally blown away?" Chad asked.
"Uh, yeah, I think she was," I said. What else could explain Gabriella's answer? "In fact, she took off so fast that we didn't get the details down, so I've gotta go find her. Later, dudes"
I shouldered my way past them and headed out of the cafeteria, running Gabriella's strange response through my mind. Sorry, but thanks. Why?
Then it dawned on me. She obviously didn't realize I was serious That had to be the problem. She'd been so shocked by my request that she'd reacted without thinking.
Because no girl, in the history of East High, had ever before turned down an invitation from Troy Bolton
I know it's very different then the original but I felt it needed to be better. This took me almost a week to write. I hope to have the next chapter up within two weeks. It will be from Gabriella's point of view.
