Here's a second chapter! I'm not entirely sure how long this story is going to turn out, but probably not super long. Enjoy!
-Nicole
"When I grow up, I don't want a job like my mom has," Gabriella said decisively.
"Why not?"
"She's never home." The tired girl sighed.
"I know, but when she's not home, you get to stay at my house. And we can stay up all night and watch movies since it's Friday," he reminded her. Troy looked at his best friend, her hair braided in pigtails. They sat on the curb of the street, waiting to be picked up after school.
"Troy?"
"Yeah, Ella?"
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"That's so far away," he said.
"Not really. We're going to be in high school in two years."
"Well, I don't know. I really like playing basketball, and Mr. Smith said I could probably play for the high school team and get a scholarship for college."
"You're really good at it, Troy. If anyone can be a professional basketball player, you can."
"If I make the high school team, will you come to all my games?" he asked her.
"Of course I'll be there. I'll always be there, Troy. Best friends, for ever and ever. Remember?"
He smiled at her.
"I remember."
Troy woke up groggily from his dream to the shrill sound of the house phone ringing. He blinked as his vision cleared, glancing at his alarm clock through the pitch black darkness. It was three in the morning.
"What the hell?" he muttered, dragging himself out of bed and into the hallway. He picked up the phone from the side table.
"Hello?" he answered, trying to sound more awake than he was.
"Troy, is that you? It's me, Maria."
"Oh, hi, Maria…"
The older woman interrupted him.
"Troy, I need to speak to your mom. It's an emergency." Troy frowned. Maria sounded upset, he could swear he heard her sniffling through the phone.
"Troy, honey, who's on the phone at this hour?"
Lucille poked her head out of her bedroom, looking tired.
"It's Maria," he said, handing her the phone. "She said it's an emergency."
"Maria? What's wrong? Wait – slow down," Lucille said. Jack stepped out into the hallway and he and Troy tried to piece things together from what they heard.
"Gabriella's where?" Lucille gasped. "Oh my god, Maria, is she okay?"
Troy could feel his heart get heavier in his chest. If he wasn't awake before, he surely was now.
"Mom, what's going on?" he asked, slightly panicked.
"Yes, of course. I'll call you once we get there. This isn't your fault. Yes, I'll see you tomorrow," Lucille said as she hung up the phone. Her voice was thick, like she was about to cry, Troy thought, and he saw he was right when a tear trickled down her cheek.
"We need to go to the hospital," she said. "Quick, get changed."
Jack rushed to do as he was told, but Troy stood frozen in the middle of the hallway.
"Mom?" he asked, his voice small.
"Go put clothes on, Troy," she said, gently as she could through the tears.
The drive to the hospital was silent, but for Lucille's sniffling. Jack drove and Troy sat in the backseat, staring at his hands. He hadn't cried, but he was shaking, he could tell from the way he couldn't even open the door to get out of the car.
The family of three rushed in the emergency room doors, walking right up to the nurse at the desk.
"My name is Jack Bolton. We're here for Gabriella Montez," Jack said. "She was in a car accident. Her mother can't be here until tomorrow, she called us because she didn't want her to be alone."
"Yes, Dr. Martin told me you were coming. Miss Montez is in surgery right now," the nurse told them.
"Surgery?" Troy repeated, his voice hoarse.
"There was scrap metal and glass embedded in her chest. They should be done with her soon. I'll take you three to the waiting room," the nurse said. They followed, Lucille grasping her husband's hand.
The trio sat in the waiting room for what seemed like days. Lucille sobbed and Jack comforted her, the best he could. Troy sat with his head between his knees, feeling like he was going to be sick.
"Are you the Bolton family?" an old man asked. Troy glanced at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning. They'd been sitting there for an hour and a half.
"Yes," Jack responded.
"I'm Dr. Martin," the man began. Troy interrupted immediately.
"Is Gabriella okay?" His voice cracked on her name.
"Well, that's up to her now," the doctor admitted. "We did what we could in surgery, removed the glass shard from her chest. She's lucky, if the glass had cut any deeper, it would have punctured her heart. One of her legs is broken. Those aren't the injuries we're worried about, though. She suffered a pretty bad blow to the head." The doctor paused. "We don't know when she'll wake up. If she'll wake up."
"Oh my god," Lucille breathed. Suddenly, it all felt too real. His best friend might die. Troy began to cry.
"Oh, honey," Lucille said, pulling her son close to her.
"Can we see her?" asked Jack.
"Yes. We've set her up in a private room, you can sit with her," said the doctor. "Come with me."
Dr. Martin led them down the hall to a tiny, private recovery room. Troy was the first through the door, taking in the sight of her. She looked incredibly tiny, the bed too big for her, and she was dangerously pale. An IV was hooked up to her arm, which was neatly bandaged. Her right leg was in a cast. There was another bandage wrapped around her forehead like a headband.
He said nothing – what could he say? – but he pulled the chair from the corner of the room and sat down right next to her bed, holding her hand, and there he stayed until the morning.
"Troy, honey, wake up."
Troy blinked awake as someone shook his shoulder. He met his mother's eyes.
"Your father and I are going down to the cafeteria to get some breakfast. We'll bring something back for you."
"What time is it?"
"A little after noon. Maria is going to be here in a few hours. You should call Taylor," Lucille said softly. She glanced down and Troy followed her gaze. He was still grasping her hand. He let go, missing the warmth almost immediately, and cleared his throat.
"Yeah. That's a good idea," he said. His eyes fell on Gabriella's face. "I just want her to wake up."
"I do too," said a voice. They turned to the doorway to see the doctor standing there. "We've done what we can. It's up to her now." He nodded at Gabriella's still form.
Troy nodded. His mother kissed his cheek.
"I'll be back in twenty minutes. Don't forget to call Taylor. I love you, honey."
"I love you too," Troy said, but he was looking at Gabriella's sleeping form the whole time.
"I'm just here to check up on her, and replace her IV bag," the doctor explained. Troy nodded, standing up and stretching.
"I'm gonna call her friends," Troy said, stepping out into the hallway. He immediately realized that he didn't have Taylor's phone number, so he dialed someone else.
"Troy! Where are you man? You missed our two on two game this morning!"
"Chad, I need Taylor McKessie's phone number," Troy interrupted.
"What? Why? And why do you think I have Taylor McKessie's phone number?"
"Gabriella is in the hospital."
"Oh my god, dude, is she okay?"
"Chad-" he stopped as his voice cracked, barely keeping his composure. "They don't know if she's going to wake up."
"Jesus," Chad breathed. "Oh my god."
"I need to tell Taylor."
"Yeah, I'll text it to you man. Keep me updated. I'm here if you need me."
"Thanks, Chad."
Troy hung up and then dialed the number Chad sent him into his phone, pausing to work up his courage before calling.
"Hello?" said a cheerful voice.
"Taylor?" Troy asked.
"Yeah, who's this?"
"Troy Bolton."
"Troy Bolton? What – wait, where did you get my phone number?"
"Not important. Gabriella's in the hospital."
"What?" Taylor exclaimed. "Oh my god, why?"
"There was a car accident – some guy ran a red light," he croaked. "I just…I know she would want you here."
"Oh my god. Oh my god," Taylor said. Troy could hear the change in her voice – she was crying. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Troy. What's the room number?" He glanced at the door.
"105," he said. There was a click as she hung up the phone. Troy sighed and turned back into the room, sitting down again in the same uncomfortable green chair from the night before.
His mother returned five minutes later, a blueberry muffin in hand. His father was close behind. She gave it to him and he picked it apart, not feeling particularly hungry. He got up and threw it in the garbage.
"Mom," he said angrily, feeling warm tears trickle down his cheeks. "Why? Why is this happening? She doesn't – she doesn't deserve this!" He gestured at Gabriella. He stumbled back against the wall, sinking down to the floor.
"She doesn't deserve this," he repeated quietly.
Lucille sat down on the floor next to her son, wrapping an arm around him.
"I know," she said quietly. Jack, Lucille, and Troy all sat in silence, just watching the slight rise and fall of Gabriella's chest, taking comfort in the fact that she was breathing.