East High: Senior Year 2009

Friday, September 26, 2008

The coach blew the whistle, and the team huddled around him. "Practice was good today. Keep up the good work. Go hit the showers." The team ran out of the gym screaming "wildcats!" Troy was the only one who stayed behind. His father looked at him. "Troy, go get cleaned up. You're done for today."

He shook his head, still breathing hard, his hands on his waist. "No..I wanna stay here and practice more.."

Jack smiled and pointed at him. "Dedicated. I like that. I'll see you at him."

Troy nodded and picked up a basketball and started dribbling it through his legs. He couldn't go home. He had too much on his mind. Playing basketball helped him solve his problems; it helped him clear his head. Hearing a basketball his that wooden gym floor was like music to his ears. It was comforting. He forgot about everything when he was on the court. He continued to bounce the ball through his legs, took a step back and shot it.

Brick…for the hundredth time.

He got the ball back. Shot it again. Brick. He got the ball again and threw it at the basketball goal's backboard, causing the ball to fly over his head. He groaned in frustration. "Dammit!" he screamed. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

He turned to run to get his ball back, but stopped short, seeing Sharpay tossing the ball back forth between her hands. "I'm guessing you have a problem," she said, walking towards him, her shoes clicking.

He walked towards her, meeting her halfway. "I have no problem."

"Can't prove that by me. You're not making any shots..and you usually do. That is how you play basketball, isn't it?" She raised both her eyebrows

"Can I have my ball back please?" His hand was open.

"Irritated much?" She started to walk a circle around him.

He looked at her. "I'm not in the mood, Sharpay. I'm really not. Just gimmie the ball."

"Is that my fault you're in a mood?" She stopped walking around him, now looking him dead in the eyes.

"Sharpay..no.." his voice warned. "It's not your fault. So give me the ball back. Please. I'm asking you nicely."

She smirked. "Is it my fault or is it Gabriella?"

He started at her, blowing breath out of his noise, just like a bull would. "Sharpay, I don't think it's any off your business if I did have a problem with Gabriella or if I didn't." He grabbed the ball from her.

She knit her eyebrows together and got in his face, firmly placing her hands on her hips. "You're right, it's not," she nodded once. "But she's spending a lot of time with Ryan. Ryan," she pointed at him," is my brother, and he, in fact," she stuck her finger in the middle of his chest, "is my business."

He started down at her, his eyes low and focused. "I'm sure there's a reason for you being in my domain."

"Yes, there is a reason." She crossed her arms over her chest, looking up at him.

He shrugged. "Gonna tell me anytime soon?"

"Because Ryan took my car, I was wondering if you could take me home."

He walked away from her and nodded his head towards the double doors. "Come on, I'll take you home." He grabbed his gym bag and held the back doors, leading to the parking lot. They got into his truck and was off down the road. "How's the play going anyway?" Troy asked.

She looked at him. "Better. It still needs work. But it's alright."

He looked over at her then back on the road. "What's Gabriella and Ryan doing in the play? They're kissing..or something?"

She started smiling. "You're scared if they do?"

He shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "Just asking. Do they?"

"If you wanna know if they do or not, come see the show." She leaned back against the seat.

He stopped along side the sidewalk. She got out then leaned in the window. "Troy." He looked over at her.

"Not that I care about your relationship with Gabriella. But I'm warning you ahead of time. I've see her and Ryan getting close. Do me a favor and watch your back."

He continue to look at her. "I'll keep that in mind, thank you."

"Thank you for the ride."

He watched her walk inside her house then drove off.