At Troy's Locker:

"Troy," she hisses, arms crossed.

He stops organizing his books and holds his hands up, staring at her innocently. "What? What'd I do wrong?"

"Oh you know exactly what it is." She slams his locker door shut.

He weakly says, "Gabriella...I..."

"You fucking told him! You're his little spy aren't you? Sent to pry into my life so he can put food on your table."

"Gabriella—"

"You didn't want to help me. You don't give a shit about me."

"I know it was wrong—"

"Then why'd you do it!"

"Because we both know you need to move on from that night, Gabriella."

"I know what's best for me."

"Doesn't look like it. You're hurting and everyone just wants to help." She knows he's telling the truth.

"Doesn't seem like it." She's crying, and allows Troy to put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Well we are. Gabriella, I'm sorry told my dad. I was desperate to do something and he seemed to know what was best for you. Please forgive me, I won't do it again."

Never has someone so patient entered her life before. "Okay. I guess it actually felt nice to tell someone."

"You can tell me anything. I promise to not say a word about it if you don't want me too."

His breath-taking blue blue eyes, that sends sparks through her body every time she looks at them, tells her one thing.

"Shh, Gabriella, you'll be okay."

And she believes them.

------

Cafeteria:

"Troy?"

"Yes, Gabriella? Want to sit with me?" He moves his lunch tray over and pats the seat next to him.

"Can we go somewhere quieter?"

"Like where?"

"Come with me." She holds out her hand for him to take. And he does.

Odd looks exchanged between a blond and brunette as Troy and Gabriella exit the crowded area.

"Taylor, did you see that?"

"Gabriella leaving with the new kid who she screeched at on his first day?"

"Yes, that."

"How could I have missed it?"

"I wonder where they're going."

"Hopefully some place to help her move on, Sharpay."

------

Rooftop Garden:

Troy follows her to a staircase leading to the roof of the school.

"Woah, I never knew this was up here," he comments on the plethora of blooming flowers and beautiful plants.

She beams proudly. "David was part of the gardening club and let me up here. It was like our secret hide out."

"What did you come here to do?"

Shrugging, she replies, "Mostly to talk when we needed somewhere peaceful to be. And we even waltzed once."

"Waltzed?"

She nods. "It was so romantic. He taught me one day, out of the blue, and said I might need to know how to dance in the near future then I laughed at him."

He gazes at her quizzically as her hand digs deep into her pocket. When she's found what she was looking for, she closes her fist, hiding it from his view.

"What's that?" She opens up her palm. The object glistens in the sunlight. "It's a ring," he states.

"It is."

"Did...David give that to you?" Her silence tells him everything. "The surprise," he says finally, "on Saturday night."

"It definitely was a shock."

"Does your mother..."

"No one knows but you and me and him."

"So he was your fiancé." Realization hits him hard.

She shakes her head and her eyes well up again. "I said no, Troy. I said it was too fast and we were too young. I loved him, but I was scared. I was so selfish, Troy. He planned out our whole night and I made him drive me home..."

"Oh, Gabriella." He rushes over to the crying girl and embraces her in a consoling hug.

"I—it was—it was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. Don't say that."

She sobs harder on to his shirt. "He said he understood and on our way back it was fine. He said we could forget the whole thing. He still loved me after I turned him down. He said everything would be okay and I believed him. Then we were hit. There was so much blood and he told me to take the ring to remember him by," she recalls, "he had the nerve to tell me that I'd be okay, and couldn't believe him, Troy."

"I think you should trust him. He seems like a smart guy who wants the best for you."

"And I was so angry when I first met you because I thought God was taunting me with the spitting image of my late boyfriend."

He rubs her back soothingly. "I can dye my hair and wear color contacts if you'd like," comes his lame attempt at a joke.

But he succeeds when she smiles. "No, it's fine. Your looks are too good to change," she admits.

"I'm glad you told me about him."

"I'm gad you listened. Could you not tell anyone else though?"

"Yes, of course. You can when you're ready."

"Thank you, Troy."

"I'm always here for you, Gabriella. And so is David. We'll always be with you."