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The Distance Between Us
Chapter Seven: You Look So Small Just Sitting There
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"I feel that I may need to remind you," Ryan said, glancing up from his clipboard, "That you cannot under any circumstances sell goods and or services from your dorm room. I don't care if it's essays, candy, a call-service or pot, it's not allowed and I will report you."
A collective groan was heard throughout the common room and Troy, Zeke and I exchanged amused glances. The three of us were hauled up for a floor meeting held by Ryan, whom after the barbeque incident, had taken to holding them weekly. Taylor had opted out of the mandatory meeting, insisting that we give her the cliff notes version later. She had a 'study session' with a computer obsessed R.A. from Kelvin Hall and would be damned if she missed it. While we out and out promised to take 'detailed, thorough notes' and relay every bit of information to her later, I'm pretty sure none of us were really listening.
While, at least I wasn't.
Seeing Sharpay in tears two nights earlier had shaken me to the core. She had been so...vulnerable. When I awoke the next morning, her bed was made and the scent of Vera Wang's 'Princess' floated in the air, Sharpay already gone. Then, upon returning home hours later after classes had commenced for the day, she went from being snappish with me to ignoring me completely. I couldn't help but wonder not only what I had done to deserve such behavior, but more what had caused it.
Three things about Sharpay I knew for certain. One, she was a bitch without a cause. Two, she thought she was all that and a bag of chips. The third and most recent one was that she had a reason for her behavior, one that I hadn't quite figured out yet. Either way, it was taunting me and I felt more compelled to tear off her layers than the desire I had been harboring that wanted me to punch her in the face.
Watching as Ryan spoke animatedly, I recalled how he had told me that things regarding he and Sharpay's relationship were 'a long story', which basically translated to really complicated. She had flat out said she didn't speak with him. How could they not speak to each other? They were siblings; they lived in the same dorm. It seemed like such a foreign and impossible concept to me.
"Also, I assume you've all heard about the party next week. There are some ground rules regarding it," Ryan gave us all a stern look and ran a hand through his floppy blonde hair. "I'm not naive enough to even bother telling you guys to keep it sober, but the list of rules is being passed around to each of your dorms and if you plan on attending, you should sign it. Or die. Whichever you prefer."
Troy leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Sounds like he's in the mafia." I giggled and nodded, shooting Ryan a smile and he waved back. He take the role of resident advisor too seriously at times, but he definitely gave me some solid advice all those weeks ago. He could be in the mafia and I would still be forever in debt to him.
"Now, most importantly," Ryan stood gallantly and gestured to three large objects underneath a black cloth. "It's time to announce some exciting news. I would like a hush in the room, please." The common room went silence, each of it's occupants eagerly awaiting the mystery underneath the cloth to be revealed.
Ryan cleared his throat. "If you so please, residents of Goddard Hall, third floor, you may enter your name in the one, the only: Refrigerator Lottery!"
In one swift movement, he ripped away the large cloth and revealed three mini-refrigerators. A gasp was heard and everyone began clambering all at once. The thought of having ones very own refrigerator in their very own rooms was apparently remarkable and wonderful, even though we were all on meal plans. I glanced at Troy and Zeke and wasn't surprised to find them in deep conversation, gesturing wildly to the fridge in excitement. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"Only three of you lucky residents will be chosen, but they are fully working and slightly amazing," Ryan beamed and smacked the top of one. "I received them as a very generous donation from the deli down the street, so I suggest you all go there to stock them up with meat and poultry if you are so lucky as to win one. With that notion, this meeting is adjourned."
Everyone began to leave and usher back into their respective rooms. I turned to my companions, who now seemed to be planning out a battle strategy.
I wrinkled my nose. "Please tell me you two aren't going to make a big deal out of this."
Zeke gaped at me. "I'm sorry, Gabriella, but were we not at the same meeting? We have a chance to win a fridge."
I stared. "So?"
"Gabi, a fridge! A fridge!" Troy shook me by the shoulders gently. "This is epic! This is phenomenal. Zeke and I could have our very own fridge!"
"Yeah, I get that," I said as we began to make our way out of the common room. "But what would you put in it? We're all on meal plans and dirt broke. It'd just be empty space."
They exchanged a glance and then looked at me. "Oh, Gabi," Troy shook his head. "So logical, so naive, so wrong." He clicked his tongue as if berating me. "I don't care what you think or say. My life goal is to now obtain one of those refrigerators. Screw my degree. Screw everything. I just want a fridge."
"That's your new life goal?" I laughed. "You want a fridge? I have one of those back home; they're not that big a deal."
"You, woman, are insane," Zeke said. I narrowed my eyes at him and he shrugged. "What? You don't want a free fridge. You think it's a waste of space. I'm sorry, but in my books that qualifies as insanity."
I watched as the two turned down the hallway to their dorm room. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I called after them.
"Hey, I may be insane, but at least my life goal isn't to get a fridge!"
"Don't be mocking my ambitions, Gabi!" Troy called back. With a grin and a wave he disappeared.
---
"I'm sorry, but what is that?"
I stared down at the plate in my hands and looked back up at Troy. "Um, pizza?" I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. "What does it look like?"
As I took a seat on my floor beside Troy, he took the plate from my hands and examined it. "It looks like it isn't edible. Did you make this in the microwave?"
Picking up my textbook, I shot him a look. "What was I supposed to make it in, Troy? The giant pizza oven in the dorm's kitchen? It's frozen pizza! Yes, I made it in the microwave." I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He had the plate very close to his eyes and was poking at it suspiciously with his index finger.
"Hey! Don't poke at it!" I snatched it out of his hands and drew it protectively to my chest. "What are you, a child?"
Troy laughed and leaned back against the frame of my bed, folding his hands in his lap. "Gabi, it looks gross. I refuse to eat it."
I looked closer at the offending object. The cheese did look kind of suspect. "What was I supposed to do? It's the only thing left in the kitchen that was labelled with my name. You don't even have any food in there. We have to eat something."
"You know," Troy began, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. He waved his hand in front of the air, gesturing to nothing with grandiosity. "If say, you or I had a mini-fridge, we could store our own food and not have to rely on microwaves."
Throwing his arm off, I stared at him. Where did this boy get his logic. "That...that doesn't even make sense. It wouldn't make a difference and, Troy, we'd still have nothing to put in the fridge."
"But we'd have the fridge," he drawled out. "it would call to us to make use of it. We would make an effort to fill it. We could have fresh fruit, dairy. We wouldn't have to eat frozen food that tastes like cardboard and looks like vomit. I say we rig this competition and get us a fridge!"
"Troy!" I yelled. "We're not going to get a fridge! And really, it's not that big of a deal!"
Troy's jaw dropped open. "Not a big deal? Not a big deal? This is only my life goal, Gabriella!" With that he launched himself at me, enveloping me in his grasp and his hands darted to my waist where he mercilessly began tickling me.
"Troy!" I choked out in fits of giggles. "S-stop, I-I can't...!"
His arms were locked around me and despite the discomfort I was feeling around my waist from his fingers harsh movement, I felt elated. We had had little to no physical contact prior to this, but as his fingers roughly ran up and down my sides, I felt a spark shoot through me.
"Well, well. What do we have here?"
Our movement and laughter stilled. Slowly, I looked to the door and saw Sharpay standing there, one hand on her hip and tapping her foot. We broke apart.
"Um," I glanced at Troy who was rubbing the back of his neck. "We're just studying."
Sharpay rolled her eyes and kicked her heels of before stalking to the other side of the room. "Yeah, uh huh. Like I buy that dribble. I thought I told you to tell your boyfriend not to come over unannounced."
I sighed. "I thought I told you that he wasn't my boyfriend," I glared at her. "And this isn't just your dorm room, Sharpay."
She didn't answer and I slumped back against my bed, defeated. Her bad mood still hadn't lessened as the days went by and I was beginning to wonder if she'd ever go back to being casually bitchy to me and not just full on ice queen.
Beside me, Troy was peering at her with interest. He seemed to be examining something and I could practically see the gears working in his head.
"Hey, Sharpay?" She turned around slowly, but did not address him, instead choosing to stare at him blankly.
Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Troy continued, as if he was just talking to anyone and not the horror that was my roommate. "You're related to Ryan, the resident advisor, aren't you?"
Her eyes tripled in size and she turned to me, furious. "You told him?" She exploded and I brought my hands up defensively, my head turning sharply to look at Troy. How had he known?
"No!" I exclaimed. "I didn't! I, um, how did you know?"
Troy looked around the room, his eyebrows furrowed. "They look practically identical, have the same last name and there's a picture of the two of them on her mirror." Upon inspecting the mirror myself, I realized he was right. In fact, I had noticed the same photo the first day I moved in here. Why had it taken me so long to put two and two together?
Fiercely, Sharpay ripped down the photo of her and Ryan. She glared at Troy, lips pursed and eyes hard. "Yeah? So what if I am?"
Putting on his sweetest smile, Troy folded his hands and continued. "Do you think that maybe, just maybe, you could put in a kind word to him about myself and one Zeke Baylor's candidacy for a mini-fridge?"
I had opened my mouth to stop him, but it was too late. The words were already out of his mouth and now there was no going back. Oh, god, why did he have to be such a boy? Why did he have to be so fixated on this refrigerator lottery? He had seen Sharpay explode. Why did he have to perpetuate it?
Slamming her hands on her dresser, Sharpay turned around, her back to us. She didn't say anything for several seconds before spinning on her heel and grabbing her purse off the floor. She snapped her heels back on, before looking at us pointedly.
"Gabriella," she began, her voice thick with disdain and upset. Her eyes were large and watery and her lip was trembling, from anger or hurt, I didn't know.
I swallowed cautiously. "Yes, Sharpay?"
"Can you tell your little boyfriend here to go to hell," she said weakly, her voice wavering. "That I do not talk to my brother, so there is no way in hell I can get him an friggin' refrigerator."
She walked away then, her shoes clanking against the floor. "And even if I did speak with him," she said, one foot out the door, "I wouldn't in a million years even think about suggesting him as a candidate."
With that she slammed the door so hard that the bulletin board above my desk fell down with a thump. Pressing a hand to my forehead, I glanced at Troy, who was staring at the spot she had occupied moments ago, perplexed.
"Look what you did," I let out a sigh. "Now she'll never get out of this mood."
"Hey, Gabi?" Troy was still staring at the back of the door.
"Yeah?" I asked, rising to go fix my bulletin board.
"Why does she think I'm your boyfriend?"
I blushed. "I don't even know, Troy. I don't even know."
---
BANG.
That was how I woke up shortly after one AM later that night. Sitting up straight, my eyes darted around my room, my heart pounding furiously. Oh my god, what was that? My mom was constantly worrying about me here in New York, convinced that someone was going to break into my room and kill me. Maybe that was about to happen. Oh dear god.
I heard the rapid clicking of shoes on the hardwood floor and looked up to see a female figure there, staggering around the room. One second later, she collapsed to the floor. What in the world?
Moving quickly, I flicked the light on my night-table on. The figure hissed at the harsh lightening and I squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I was shocked to see Sharpay sprawled out on her pink rug, moaning.
"Sharpay!" I exclaimed, yanking the covers off and running to her side. I rolled her over and she belched in my face, which was highly un-lady like. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at me.
"G-go away, Montez," she spat at me and I could smell the harsh scent of alcohol on her breath. I cringed. She was drunk. Really, really drunk by the looks of it.
"Sharpay, you're drunk," I said, shifting her, trying to get her to sit up. She did so poorly, leaning against her desk. Her skin was damp and her eyes bloodshot.
She laughed humorlessly. "No s-shit, sherlo-ock," she clapped her hands obnoxiously. "You figure that one out all by y-yourself? No wonder you managed...you man-naged to get into NYU. Way to fucking go, Gabr-ella!"
I had no experience with drunk people. I wasn't a party girl and no one I was related to was a heavy drinker, so this was new to me. Still, I had watched movies, read books and well, they had to have gotten those ideas from some sort of reality.
I sighed. "Sharpay, we need to sober you up," I scooted down and brought my hand to her ankle, pulling off one stiletto heel. She kicked at me.
"Don't touch my shoes!" she screeched and I pressed my hand against her lips, trying to silence her.
"Sharpay, shh! There's people sleeping!" She bit my palm in response and I yelped, drawing back.
"L-leave me alone, Gabriella." Her voice and eyes were dark and I felt a shudder run through me. She looked so broken. "Go back to your little Albuquerque bubble with your little brainiac friends and jock b-boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend," I protested meekly, even though now wasn't the time. "Sharpay, sit up. I'm getting you some water."
I walked over to my side of the room and pulled a bottle out from the small case I kept under my desk. When I turned around to face her, I was startled to see tears on her cheeks.
"Just leave me alone, Gabriella," she said for the second time, weaker now. "Just...let me...let me be. I can't take this. I can't...I don't know why I came here." She pressed her hands to her face and sobbed. "I hate this so much. Hate being alone. Hate it! What did I think I was proving?"
She looked at me then and smacked her hand against the floor, hard. "Why did I come here, Gabriella?" she yelled and I was by her side again immediately.
I pulled off her other shoe and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, hoisting her up and lying her on her side on her bed near by. I uncapped the bottle of water and forced to up to her lips.
"Take a drink," I said softly as her hands clasped around the bottle like a child. She took slow sips and her breathing began to slow. Running a hand over her hair, brushing it out of her face, I felt my heart clench. What I had assumed about Sharpay before was correct.
She was lonely.
"Everything will be better in the morning. Now just try and sleep it off," I said as her eyes slid closed, the bottle slipping from her grasp. Moments later, she was asleep, but I remained perched on the side of her bed, worried that I may wake up to find her dead.
Sharpay had been awful to me, but seeing her in the state she was in...I wasn't immune to it. If I had left her alone, I would have been as bad as she was. Frankly, if that was true, I couldn't live with myself.
I woke up the next morning to a soft voice whispering my name. Lifting my head up, I realized I had fallen asleep sitting by Sharpay's bed, my head pressed against her night-table. Glancing to the side, I saw her peering at me from over her bed.
Running a hand through my hair, I yawned. "How are you feeling?" I asked and she rolled over, pressing a hand to her forehead, but didn't say anything. Standing up, I slipped on my robe and told her I would be back with coffee in a minute and for her not to go anywhere, though I was certain she would.
However, She was still sitting there when I came back with two mugs in my hands. I handed one to her and she accepted it gratefully. Sitting at her desk chair, the two of us sat in silence for a few minutes before she opened her mouth to speak.
"Thank you," she began slowly. "For last night. I'm sorry I caused such a ruckus."
I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. "It's not that big a deal. It's college. These things happen."
She shook her head. "No, really. Thank you," she picked at a loose thread on her duvet. "After the way I treated you, most people would just leave me for dead." She looked me in the eye. "Especially lately."
I bit my lip, not wanting to pry, but feeling like I had to in this case. "Can I ask why you've been so testy lately?" I paused. "I mean, I know you don't like me, but since Troy and I walked in on you singing the other day, you've been a nightmare and as your roommate, I feel you own me an explanation if I'm going to continue living with you."
She didn't say anything, instead choosing to pluck the picture she had ripped off her mirror the other day off her dresser and hand it to me. It was the one of she and Ryan.
"I've never told anyone this," she began softly. "And I don't particularly know why I'm telling you, but I am," she glared. "So shut up, sit tight and listen, cause I am only telling this story once."
"As you know, Ryan's my brother." I nodded, waiting for her to continue. "As kids we did everything together and I mean everything. We played sports together, we took dance lessons together, went to art classes. Everything. We were born performers, loved being centre stage, the centre of attention." She swallowed and focused on something out the window.
"Once we got to high school, none of that changed, it only grew. We took our love for performing and became this unstoppable duo in the theatre department. We sang duets, were in over nineteen school productions. I sang and composed and he choreographer. It was he and I. A team."
"You were close," I concluded, trying to piece together the problem. "Then why don't you speak to him now?"
Sharpay scoffed sadly, not meeting my eyes. "In our senior year of high school, we both applied and auditioned for Juliard. Myself for vocals and he for choreography. Juliard had been my dream for as long as I could remember. It was the number one performing arts school, the one place where I could perfect my craft. I could sing and dance my heart out there. However, when acceptances arrived, there were two envelopes in our mailbox and his was considerably larger." She bit her trembling lip. "He got accepted and I didn't."
I glanced down, twisting my hands in my lap, trying to imagine the situation. I was an only child, sibling rivalry was never an issue for me. But sitting across from me was a girl who had her life ruined because of it.
She had begun to cry again, softly this time. "And you know the worst part?" she choked out. "He didn't even want it. He deferred. Decided to come here, to NYU instead. I was a mess, my passion for singing gone. I wasn't good enough and my dream wasn't even good enough that my brother didn't even want it. I hated him and when he went away to university a year ago, I stayed behind, trying to put back the pieces of my life together."
I scrunched my brow. "So how did you end up at NYU?"
She swallowed, not meeting my eyes again. "I decided that I wanted to prove to him that his dream was nothing. That my being here was as easy as one, two, three. That I could do just what he had done and I could take it away just as he had done to me. I never thought he'd end up my resident advisor." She laughed bitterly.
I stood then, walking over and sitting next to her on the bed. "You know, Troy and I were really impressed by your voice," I said softly and when she looked at me, I saw hope in her eyes.
"Really?" she asked, unsure. I nodded reassuringly.
"Really! We were blow away!" I smiled. "Nothing holds Troy's attention for more than a few seconds and he was riveted! He was just as enthusiastic about as he is about this fridge lottery."
Sharpay laughed. "Can I tell you something?"
"You've kind of already told me a lot of somethings."
She laughed again and I realized that I liked the sound. "That's true. Anyways, you know Zeke? That boy that came by our room the other day with your not-boyfriend?" I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. "He's a guitar player. Brilliant one, too. I came to New York early this summer to do an internship at Nylon magazine and we met a company function where he was working with the catering company. We've gotten together and performed a few times. I love it."
I smiled. "Then you should pursue it, Sharpay. Don't let one bad experience ruin your life. So Juliard missed out on a great singer, their loss. You can still persevere. You can still be the best you can be."
She smiled sadly at me. "I'm sorry, Gabriella. For the way I've been treating you. You didn't deserve it."
I shrugged. "Well, we're still in the adjustment period. I can let it slide if you promise to lighten up."
"I'll try my best," she grinned. "Though if you keep bringing that not-boyfriend of yours and your friends around unannounced, it may be difficult."
"Hey!" I exclaimed. "I could do that, or you could, I don't know, just smile and join us once in a while."
Her eyes lit up. "Really? You'd actually want to hang out with me?"
I looked down, embarrassed. "Well, yeah. Why not? We're roommates, after all. Though," I paused. "It may take some time to convince Troy and Taylor that you're not Satan's advocate."
Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Oh shut up, Gabriella."
It wasn't a promise of friendship. It wasn't even a promise of being civil, but it was a start. Sitting next to Sharpay and knowing that she was just as insecure, just as lonely and she as scared as I was made me feel closer to her.
Things would be different from then on. I could feel it.
---
I couldn't tell you what led me there, but something did. Walking aimlessly through the streets of New York, while oddly calming was, well, aimless. I walked past vintage shops and designer stores, past hot dog stands and parks. Somehow, though, I found myself walking by a randomly placed basketball court a block from Goddard Hall. Stopping, I stood by the chain link fence and curled my fingers around it, staring absentmindedly at the court.
Sharpay was just as insecure as I was. She had come to find herself in New York just as I had. The revelation was stunning and I couldn't wrap my head around it. Faintly, I recalled my first thoughts upon seeing her picture on my first day moving into the dorm. I thought that she was as lonely as I was.
I had been right.
Now, however, I wasn't lonely. I had friends. Taylor, Troy, Zeke, even Ryan and Jenny. Each were a new person in my life that I hadn't had before. What did Sharpay have? Broken dreams and a messed up relationship with one of the most important people in her life. Watching as a basketball flew through the hoop of the net, I thought for the first time since coming to New York, that was I was truly lucky.
I scanned the court and that's when my eyes fell on him. His hair was flopping around as he ran about the court, dressed inappropriately in jeans and a hoodie. Troy was on the court, practicing.
In high school, basketball and Troy were rarely heard without one another in a sentence. It was his identity, what he was known for. His father was the coach and he was the captain and he was amazing. Though I never attended one of his games, I heard remarkable things and made a point to read every caption about them in the local newspapers.
"Troy!" I called out, clutching the fence. He jerked around, startled, but relaxed when his eyes landed on me. I waved and he called for me to come over. Walking around the fence, I made my way onto the court.
"Hey!" He said, happily, albeit out of breath. "What brings you here?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I was wandering around and ended up here. Practicing for something? Or just letting off steam?"
"Practicing, actually," He brushed his bangs out of his eyes before continuing. "Try-outs for the NYU team start next week and I'll be damned if I don't make it. It's even more important than the mini-fridge."
"It ranks before the mini-fridge? Sounds like a big deal." I commented, noting the nervous way his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He seemed apprehensive and I realized it probably was a big deal. He wouldn't get by just on teamwork and charisma alone anymore. His actual talent was being tested. He had plenty of it, so what was there to worry about?
"Yeah, it kind of is," He admitted. Then he spun the ball on his index finger and despite my crummy mood, I knocked it off, sending it bouncing behind him. He gasped at me, outraged.
"That's it, Montez. You're benched." He pointed to the bleachers across from us and begrudgingly, I shuffled over to them. He laughed. "You don't really have to sit over there, you know."
I waved my hand nonchalantly. "It's for the best," I said, taking a seat. "I can't play to save my life and will just get in your way. You don't mind if I watch, do you?"
He shook his head and I settled down, watching him dribble up and down the court. His form was flawless and he seemed like he was gliding on air. Why had I never bothered to watch him play before? It was a wonderful sight. He seemed relaxed. Calm. Free.
"We didn't get a fridge, by the way," he said suddenly and my eyes darted up to meet his. "It sucks so hardcore."
"I'm sorry," I said, bitting my lip. "I know how much you guys wanted one."
Troy shrugged. "Ehn. It happens. Wasn't meant to be.
A beat passed between us before I felt my mouth opening at it's own accord. "Hey, Troy?" I asked softly. He stilled the ball in his hands and turned to me.
"What is it, Gabi?" He cocked his head to the side. "Are you okay? You look a bit down."
I leaned my elbows on my thighs and rested my head on my palms. "Sharpay kind of threw a revelation on me today," I admitted while Troy dribbled the ball absentmindedly.
"What? She was born a guy?" Troy cracked and despite myself, I laughed.
"No," I leaned against the fence positioned behind the bleachers. "She just admitted some things. Came home drunk last night. It really...it really gave me more insight to who she is."
"A drunk?"
"No! Troy!" I felt exasperated. He was trying to lighten the mood, but it was difficult when I was feeling so miserable for the girl and was so unable to articulate this fact. "It just....she explained why she is the way she is. It made her human. I was able to relate to her, Troy." I paused. "I feel like she and I could be friends now."
Troy didn't say anything for a moment, shooting the ball towards the net. It soared through the hoop and bounced back into his hands. He turned toward me and stared.
"What?" I asked curiously. He was looking at me in this peculiar way, as if I had three heads but also as if he had never seen me before.
He smiled. "You're not like anyone I've ever met."
I flushed hotly, feeling warmth spread on my face and neck. "What? What do you mean?"
Tucking the ball underneath his arm, he came to sit next to me on the bleachers. Leaning against the fence as well, he turned towards me and locked his eyes with mine.
"Just that...she treated you like shit, Gabriella," he began slowly, "Personal issues or not. And you...you have no reason to be nice to her, none at all...yet you still want to reach out to her. Still want to be her friend. It takes a remarkable person to do that."
I didn't say anything as his eyes searched my face. His words were making my heart bounce all around my chest like a ping pong ball and I was trying to think of simple words to form a sentence, but nothing seemed to fit.
"T-thank you," I stuttered out. "Um, is that the appropriate response? I, um, don't even--"
"Coming from you, Gabriella," he smiled brightly and pulled me into a one armed hug, "It's the perfect response. Now let's go get some hot chocolate. I'll buy."
Without another word, he stood up and bounced off the bleachers, gesturing with his head for me to follow. Slowly, I grinned and followed him, just like I'd done so many times before.
---
Three hours, two hot chocolates and a plate of french fries between us later, Troy and I had finally gotten kicked out by Jenny who was attempting to close up for the night. I felt better. I felt warm and I felt full and somehow able to face this Sharpay thing head on and move forward.
When I arrived at my dorm, however, there was something blocking the door. A rather large something.
"What in the world...?" I thought aloud. Stepping closer, I realized the object was rectangular, bulky and stopped at my mid-thigh. Stepping down to inspect it, I found a note attached, scrawled on expensive stationary.
"Shar," it read, "Figured you could use this. Ryan."
Setting the note down, I ran my hand over the top of it's surface.
It was a refrigerator.
" It's one thing to say you're gonna let go, it's another to actually do it--to loosen your grip and let yourself fall."
-Felicity Porter
---
Thank you so much to the best friend for helping me with pacing and flow. I was so concerned that things were moving too quickly that I planned to scrap nearly a whole arc of the story before she told me otherwise. So yes, thank you for deliberating this matter with me over the phone for nearly twenty minutes. :)
A few of you have been wondering/wanting me to write from Troy's perspective and while my mom is urging me to pull a Stephenie Meyer and re-write this from his perspective, that's not going to happen. See, the thing is, if I let you guys in Troy's head, if you were to learn what he was thinking...well, that would ruin everything I have planned. That just won't do.
As for things to come next chapter, I gotta ask:
Any of you ever play Assassin?
