A/N: Wow, your reviews are so awesome and uplifting, I totally forgot that I feel like I have to throw up. Hm, I'm sure biotech companies everywhere would love to hear that Fan Fiction reviews cure the stomach flu, I wonder if they'll pay me for that wonderful realization…
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.
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Stolen
Chapter Four:
We, All, Look, Like, We, Feel.
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"Gabriella, I…" Troy stammered, as a scarily strong hand of Gabriella's pushed him toward the tree branch in the corner of her balcony. Her eyes had turned to a darkened shade of brown, one that he hadn't seen before. Her hand was cold and a little clammy, extremely different than its usual warm, soft, dry texture. The separate looks on her face, hurt, hate, suspicion, surprise, lust, all blended together to make Gabriella's light angelic features unnoticeable. A voice that he almost couldn't believe came out of Gabriella split the air between them fiercely,
"I don't want to hear it Troy, don't you understand that I don't want to be one of the many stupid girls you screw for points with your friends? Really Troy, if you wanted to make me swoon for real you'd say that you'd never ever want to do that to me, because you know that would make me feel upset, and worst of all, degraded. So Troy, I'm going to ask you one more time; get off of my balcony." Gabriella sent Troy a glare that she only saved for when she was really, really, angry. He faltered slightly, but then looked her straight in the eye. Lust filled navy eye to anger filled black. He took an uncharacteristically shaky breath before speaking,
"Gabriella, why are you making this so hard for me? I know you know for a fact that you're not like other girls to me. I mean really, have you ever seen me act the way I've been acting the past week? I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can hardly concentrate during certain classes," He eyed her warily as he took a small step forward, one that she matched for an equally small step backwards. She was still very mad, "and to top it off, the one thing that might actually get my head off of this, off of you, I'm sucking at. For the first time in my entire life, I can't play basketball, nor do I care about playing basketball. There was a Duke versus UNC game on this evening, and I didn't even bother to check the score, I just came over here to see you. I can't do anything Gabriella because I've been thinking about you, and nothing else." He paused again, and repeated his previous actions, taking a slightly larger step forward, Gabriella did not move, the two of them were closer than they have been since her hand had met his chest only a few minutes ago. "Gabriella Montez, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the first time you locked eyes with me at Jason Cross's party, six days ago." He didn't break his gaze as he took another step forward and stole away her hand in his. He noticed a small, almost undetectable jump in her breath as he bent down and placed a light kiss on it. He kept his mouth pressed to it until Gabriella regretfully drew her hand back to her body, shaking her head slightly,
"I can't do this Troy. Until you can prove, actually prove that I can trust you, I can't even think about going out with you. You should leave now, my mother is going to hear you up here, and I'm positive she wouldn't like seeing a boy in my room that she hasn't even met, let alone hear me talk about you." She stepped away further, but Troy's basketball trained reflexes caught her wrist.
"Gabriella, just give me this. How can I make, er, let you trust me?" His eyes were pleading, yet his hand was still passive, he didn't let go of Gabriella, nor did he pull her towards him. Her eyes focused on where their bodies met, his soft, big, warm hand engulfed almost her entire wrist, warming her through her over - sized red East High sweatshirt.
"Don't ask me, ask the people I trust." Gabriella pulled out of Troy's grip and rushed into her room. She sat down on her bed and stared out the doors at Troy, who after waiting a beat, headed down the tree next to her balcony, and disappeared as stealthily as he had came.
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Gabriella was bewildered.
No, more than bewildered.
She felt as if her entire world had been taken out from under her feet and replaced with some alien invaded one, where everything she had known and loved flipped. Taylor was being harsh and unforgiving towards Troy, and Troy. Well, Troy's behavior spoke for itself. It was true when he had said he had never acted this way. Troy was all about appearances. He always looked like a million bucks always with that stupid smirk… those gorgeous blue eyes, great posture, and amazing cologne…
No.
Gabriella's mind took off again; she forced it back to normal, off of Troy and onto something else. It had been doing that lately veering off. When ever she wasn't focusing on something that would get her into Stanford her mind would immediately transfer completely over to Troy. Little things that she obsessed about for too long of time intervals, like how she had caught Troy staring at her fifteen times in the past four days, or how his hair looked disheveled yet still amazingly sexy. Or how on Thursday afternoon during AP World History he was fidgety and always looking out, er, rather, at the window. She had grown accustomed to looking as if she was taking notes, but really staring back into those blazing blue eyes, which were somewhat dimmed by the window's glare.
She had wanted to believe that the feelings weren't mutual, that it was just Troy, and she wasn't really falling for the school's world class "Hottie." Tonight though, she had realized the worst; she had fallen for Troy Bolton, the boy - chameleon. He changed his entire persona per who ever he was dating, or, as Taylor had put it, mating at the time. And although he had completely confessed about feeling differently about Gabriella, she still couldn't be sure. And this was something she needed to be sure about.
Troy could read her like an open book, she had been told everything she had wanted to hear earlier this evening. But if it weren't for Taylor's incessant nagging about the subject, she would have definitely been Troy Bolton's girl friend of the week.
Or would she have been?
Two hours since his impromptu and she was still puzzled. She had contemplated calling Taylor, but she immediately could hear Taylor saying, "Troy is fake, everything he said was a lie…" et cetera, et cetera. To be completely honest, Gabriella didn't want to hear that anymore. She didn't want to hear that Troy wasn't madly in love with her, she wanted her fantasy, and more than anything, she wanted to enjoy it too.
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Troy had walked as slowly as possible home, calling almost everyone he knew. His last resort, Sharpay Evans, whom had repeatedly tried to make herself his date for two weeks, he called only after calling thirty three other people.
"Hi… Sharpay… Yeah, it's me, Troy. I was just wondering if you had Taylor McKessie's phone number?" Troy tried to get his words in as Sharpay kept interrupting him with giggles and random annoying squeals.
"Uh I think I have it let me check. Why do you want it? She's so not your type… Not like me, pretty, smart…" Troy feigned laughter,
"Smart? Sharpay, she's Salutatorian…"
"Uh, excuse me, that's only second smartest. She's behind that Montez girl isn't she? Gabriella totally messed up my dress for the Musicale last week, the hem is all… weird. What ever, I'll just get another one whipped up in no time… you're coming to the show right?" She pressed; Troy could feel her stare boring into her even with all those miles between them
"Sure… what ever. Number?" Troy said urgently, he was almost on the block for his house, and he definitely didn't want to be home right now.
"It's 656 - 6000… So do you want to hook up tonight? The 'rents are gone and Ryan is, oddly enough, on a date. House to ourselves…" Her conversation was cut off abruptly by Troy hanging up the phone and sliding it back into his jeans pocket as he sat down on the curb in front of a random house. He breathed in deeply, trying to decide on what he was going to ask Taylor. He knew immediately whom Gabriella was talking about when she had said, "Ask the people I trust."
After deciding on a game plan he fished out his cell phone again, dialing the simplistic number. It rang once, and then a somewhat out of breath woman picked up the phone, the voice he recognized as not of Taylor's, but of her mother's.
"Uh, hi, this is Troy-" He was interrupted again by a squeal,
"You must be calling for Taylor, here, I'll pass you over to her! It's so great to be hearing from a boy."
"Mom, be quiet!" He heard Taylor hiss into the phone before hearing footsteps and then a door shutting.
"Before I even try to find out who this is, next time, call my cell phone, no one deserves what ever you've just been put through." She laughed as she sat down switching the phone to her other ear. "Uh, speak please…"
"Right, right." Troy said before starting his speech. "I was just with-"
For the millionth time that night, he was interrupted, Taylor had just recognized his smooth voice, "Troy Bolton, you have a lot of nerve calling me, what, break Gabriella's heart already? Want me to help pick up the pieces?"
"No I-" He tried, but Taylor was having none of it.
"Gabriella has been my best friend for ten years. We met when we were seven, well I was seven and a half, I was born exactly six months and seven minutes before her… Anyway, I will defend her until the day we both die, so please, stop your charade and just admit to your friends that you can't get into Gabriella's pants." She paused as if waiting for him to admit everything and to back down, but Troy would have none of that.
"Stop with this, could the both of you just get out of your stubborn honor student bubbles for five minutes for me to explain myself? You know, I had this entire speech prepared for you, to get you to realize that I really, really would like to ask Gabriella out on a real date, but I don't know now. You two are making something that is already hard for me even harder. I tried hinting at Gabriella that I wanted to go out with her, but she basically slapped me in the face and refused. She won't trust me, and right now, she via you is judging me based on my reputation, which, two self - proclaimed "nerds" shouldn't do. You guys have been preaching ever since the first day of freshman year that we should, 'Be a different class, not have cliques, bad reputations, and most of all, be open with one another, and always give second chances.' But really, all you guys have been doing to me has been hypocritical and complete torture. I want Gabriella to give me one chance, one. Is that too much to ask? Shouldn't everyone be given a chance?" Troy stopped, anxious to hear Taylor's critical reply.
She sighed before replying, "Saturday night. She's free, I'm sure. But just one chance Troy, screw this up, and you'll be sorry you ever crossed me." The line went dead, but Troy didn't care, a stupid lovesick grin was on his face, and he sprinted the short distance home, crazily high on endorphins.
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