Do you guys see what I mean about not setting limits for myself? xD I mean, it's only been one day - ONE - and I have already completed another chapter. Granted, it's short, but that makes the chapters even easier to write. And that means I can write more sooner.
But I'm not setting limits, so let's not think about that. :)
So, I just want to dedicate this chapter to: xxxerinlouisexxx, because she was the first to review AND because her reviews are so, so amazing. Thanks so much, Erin! x)
Two more quick things. ONE: This is going to be written in 3rd person, but each chapter focuses on a different character. Know what I mean? So even though, it's 3rd person, that particular chapter just focuses on one character's thoughts and events. But not every chapter HAS to change to a diff character. Like, two chapters in a row can be from Troy's, and then the next from Chad. :)
TWO: Please check the soundtrack on my profile. :D
Sorry, my A/N's are so long, lol
-sxg
Without a Trace
Chapter One
Troy's wristwatch alarmed him out of his current unconsciousness.
At first, the gnat-like noise buzzed in and out of his ear, frisky and annoying. He even swatted his free hand dizzily to get rid of it. It only took a few moments for him to realize it was his watch, not an insect, and that he needn't be waving his hand around idiotically. All it took was a simple press of a button. And then back to sleep it was.
When that thought was processed, Troy slurped as his eyes shot open, red and veiny. Groaning, he held up his wrist about two inches from eyes, trying desperately to steady his foggy vision. Frustrated and drowsy as he was, his proprioception was a bit off, so when he reached out to turn off the alarm, he missed by a near foot and hence he ended up squeezing the air, not the off-button to his watch.
This time, he growled from the aggravation, and slapped the watch in spite of it. When it had taken the abrasive hint and quieted, Troy snuggled back into the couch, grouchy but relieved. Why had he even turned an alarm on? Honestly, he didn't have to be such a prude all the time—making positive he didn't nap for too long so his biological clock remain on track. He must have done it just because Gabriella was watching him. He sincerely hoped he hadn't woken her up in all that fuss.
Seconds after, he was startled with two important realizations.
One: he remembered exactly why he had set that clock. Gabriella's mother, Ms. Maria Montez, returned home from work around six in the evening, and with the notion that they were going to take a nap together on the couch, he set it to avoid awkward confrontation. And although, he had no underlying motives when it came to Gabriella and snuggling with her, he didn't want to worry Ms. Montez or have her doubting his good intentions.
Then secondly, and most importantly: Gabriella was no longer with him. She had apparently gotten up earlier and left Troy to sleep alone. Sighing, Troy knew it was probably best if he got up and searched for his, most likely, lonely girlfriend. Plus, he was getting hungry too. The Montez's always had a fridge stock-full with goodies he was deprived of at his own humble abode.
The mouth-watering desire for dessert settled the matter, and Troy lifted himself up, slowly, off the couch. He stretched and yawned, pulling his arms up over his head, before he made his journey to the kitchen. He cracked his neck after arriving at the fridge, and while he opened it called out her name. Like a sweet-tooth magnet, Troy immediately spotted something that would probably give him cavities. Three-quarters of a home-made pumpkin pie. Score! And right after, he saw a can of whipped cream too. Double score!
His lips already quivering, he yanked out the whip cream can, and sprayed a choke-full down his throat.
"Hey thanks for the pie, babe!" he hollered, his mouth stuffed like a squirrel. He didn't get a response in return, but shrugged. She was probably downstairs on the computer, in Ms. Montez's office, checking her email. Or maybe she went to the grocery store to get another pie. This time, cherry. …Yep, that was probably it.
Troy pulled the pie out of the fridge, continuing to squirt gulps of cream in his cheeks, and pulled off the plastic wrap cheerily, swaying with delight. Since the pie seemed to be pre-sliced, he just stuck his hand in there and ripped off a chunk, not bothering to get himself a plate. He just chugged it like a hot dog, biting off a huge portion and then jamming the whip cream nozzle in his mouth too, giving each bite a disgustingly sweet flavor. He had to admit, this was probably the best part of coming to Gabriella's house.
Finishing his first and starting on his second loaf of pie, it appeared to Troy that he might be acting like a pig. But then again, he hadn't pie since, like, three days ago when he was last at Gabriella's. He deserved to gorge. Regardless, though, he had better hurry up overindulging himself before Ms. Montez or Gabriella caught him. So, he held onto his last piece by his teeth while he tried to smooth over the finger smudges he had left on the other pieces. It looked as good as it was going to get—besides, did they really expect him not to have a slice … or three? He recovered the pan and slid it back onto the fridge shelf. When he turned around, he discovered what bad shape the whipped cream was in. The nozzle was bent, teeth marks all on it, and it was practically empty. Well, then he might as well finish it off, right?
Troy shrugged and grabbed it off the counter. Then suddenly, as it was half-way to his lips, he thought he heard a noise from upstairs. Automatically assuming it was Gabriella, Troy mad his way towards the stairs. Trudging up the steps and simultaneously stuffing himself with cream was sort of a skill. But thankfully, he made it up there without much resistance.
"Hey, babe, uh, you're kind of out of whipped cream," he said with a chuckle. Still nothing. He rolled his eyes at her lack of attention and wandered down the hallway to her room. A few feet from the door, he noticed it was slightly cracked.
"Gabby?" he said, knocking lightly on the white wood door.
He shouldered the door open, with wandering eyes.
What he saw next left him in pure shock.
He dropped the can of cream and covered his gaping mouth.
Gabriella's bedroom was barren, completely cleared out.
