Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the HSM franchise in any way, shape or form. Nor do I hold any rights to Willow by Julia Hoban.

A/N: Hey! So, it's around 3 am on Christmas Eve for me. =) I know y'all probably want to kill me, but I am so sorry for the wait. Honestly, this story isn't the easiest to write and certain emotions are hard to turn on and off. Thank you again to liv3. in. lov3, Tayweezy, IrethK, pumpkinking5, Sharkay, Clembo29, and xZANESSA4LIFEx for the wonderful reviews. I love all my reviewers from all my stories, but you guys are all so amazing. I hope this was worth the wait.

to pumpkinking5: I'm ecstatic that you enjoyed the chapter and the portrayal of the scene. The thing with the reciting of the phone number is actually similar to this coping strategy I read about. This one girl said that she would recite song lyrics at night to suppress her urges to cut. So I thought if that helps her, why can't Troy's number provide the same comfort to Gabi? Thanks so much for the review! As always, your reviews are a pleasure to read. Happy Holidays!

to Tayweezy: Hi! Thanks so much for checking out this story. I'm so glad you're enjoying my story and that you love it so far. Sorry for keeping you waiting! Happy Holidays!


April 9, 2010

"Gabriella. Gabriella. Wake up. Troy Bolton is here."

The brunette remained nestled beneath her sheets as the voice languidly brought her out of dreamland. She had decided that she was dreaming and ignored the voice.

"Gabriella. Bolton is downstairs. Gabriella. Wake up."

When she couldn't ignore the voice any longer, she lowered the the white sheet from above her head and winced at the fact that all of her lights were on. The sight of her brother-in-law hovering above her was slightly startling. She raised her hands to tame her unruly hair and rearranges herself so that she is sitting up against the headboard.

Seeing her obvious discomfort, Adam stood up straight and gave her some space. "Finally," he says with a goofy smile. "Your boyfriend is waiting for you downstairs."

Still under the influence of sleep, she stares at Adam as if he has three heads. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Bolton is here to pick you up."

This statement makes her sit up a bit straighter and knocks the sleep right out of her. "You're joking right?"

"Nope, he's eating a bagel in our kitchen," he says as he begins walking backwards toward the door. "Since your boyfriend's here to give you a ride to school, you mind me leaving for work early?"

A blush creeps onto her cheeks and she tries to hide it by glaring at him. "God. He's not my boyfriend!"

"But I am a friend, right?"

Her eyes dart to the open door at the introduction of a second male voice and almost doubles over in shock at the sight of Troy standing there in Wildcat colors. Any other girl would of welcomed Troy's presence in their bedroom, but Gabriella was just annoyed. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

He casually walks into the room and makes himself at home by sitting at the edge of her bed. "I woke up thinking I had basketball practice, then I realized that because of the game, practice is after school. So I was up all early and thought I'd drop by to see if you needed a ride."

"I'm taking advantage of that and taking off for work. Be good you guys," Adam says as he finally made it to standing directly bellow the door frame of the open door. "Troy, remember what I said earlier."

She watches as the two men exchange an unspoken understanding, leaving her confused. When Adam finally leaves, she pushes the sheet off of her body and swings her legs over the side of the bed. As she stands up to her full height, her shirt unrolls and a thin metal falls to the hardwood floor. Her eyes dart to the floor and as they come in contact with the sight of the blade, memories from last night come rushing back to her. She looks down at her clenched fist and feels herself blush for still holding the green sheet. Feeling eyes on her, she turns around as she begins to straighten out her shirt and cotton shorts. "What?" she asks while rolling her eyes.

He pushes himself off of her bed with a worried expression and he takes wide strides to reach her. Upon reaching her, he bends down to pick up the fallen blade. His eyes dart from between her and the blade, reminding her of when he first found out her secret. "You didn't- Did you?" he asks gently as his eyes roam over her exposed forearms.

She shakes her head and turns the inside of her forearms towards him, revealing the severely marred skin. "Nothing new," she says in deadpan voice as she scans his face for any sort of reaction.

His face is wiped clean of any emotions as he gently grabs hold of the backs of her wrists. With the upmost tenderness, he runs the pads of his thumbs over the rough skin. Yes, he had seen her forearms before, but he never really saw them. Every inch of her skin from the crease of her elbow to her lower forearm contained at least one mutilation. "They're hideous," he concludes.

In an instant, she frees her arms from his steel grip and crosses them directly below her chest. Her gaze turns cold from his criticism. She's well aware of the fact that sight of her forearms was far from pleasurable, but she didn't need him to point it our her. "Just wait downstairs."

Lifting his arms as to say that he surrenders, he backs out of her room. "Just don't take too long. Alright?" He punctuates his exit by shutting her door for her.

He's got some nerve. She thinks as she makes her way to her adjacent bathroom to do her morning routine of brushing her teeth and washing her face. As she dabs her face with a cotton towel, she catches sight of herself in the mirror. If the idea of her being a murderer wasn't enough to disgust her, then her pale reflection was sure to do. This revelation startles her a bit because ever since the accident, she had stopped putting effort into her appearance. Her reasoning was that it simply did not matter to her. She chucks her towel at her reflection, as if the soft cotton would make it disappear.

The silence seems deafening as she steps back into her bedroom and begins to remove her shirt. She pauses in front of her closet and disregards her night shirt in a nearby hamper. As she lets the cotton slip through her fingers, she catches sight of her mutilated forearm. Obviously t's not the first time she's seen them, but she tries to see them through Troy's eyes. Various shades of red, horizontal lines contrasted with the length of her olive skin. The cuts ranged from one to three inches long. Beneath some of the healing cuts, lay thinner lines that would most likely seem invisible from afar. She didn't find them hideous. In fact, she kind of liked how they looked and felt. The scars were a subtle reminder of reality.

A soft knock accompanied on her closed door breaks the silence. "I hate to rush you, but we've got to get going soon."

"Just a minute!" she yells back as she grabs a black tank and pulls it over her head. After flipping through her shirts, she makes a mental note to do a load of laundry when she realizes that she's out of long sleeves. Shit. She thinks as she opts for a black jacket. With the clock ticking, she rushes over to a nearby dresser and grabs a pair of jeans from the top drawer and quickly changes out of her cotton shorts and into her jeans. When she flings her door open, she comes into contact with Troy's muscular back. "Are you standing guard or something?" she asks rhetorically as she regains her balance.

He turns around with a slight flush on his cheeks. "Sorry, about that. You ready?"

She nods and leads him downstairs. At the bottom of the staircase, she picks up her messenger bag and slips on her ballet flats. As they enter the foyer, she grabs her house keys off of the hook and props the door open for him to exit. After locking the Moretti house behind her, she makes her way to the beat up white truck that's becoming more and more familiar.

"Check your bag," he says as soon as she slides into the battered seats of his truck and he backs out of the driveway.

Curiously, she opens her bag and pulls out a warm foil structure. She opens it slowly, as if it would blow up at any moment. "A bagel?"

"Yeah, Adam said plain bagels with extra cream cheese and strawberry jam were your favorite."

"Thanks," she mutters and unwraps the baked good. A comfortable silence falls between them as she takes a small bite of her bagel and studies his profile. Never has she met anyone like him; someone instantaneously so blunt and thoughtful. At the very least, she finds him intriguing. She envies how he can control his emotions with such ease.

Feeling her gazes on him, he pulls his eyes away from the road for a split second to look at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she squeaks and adverts her gaze, cheeks flaming at the thought of being caught. For the remainder of the ride, she quietly eats her breakfast. In between bites, she'd glance up at him. He caught her twice and after she noticed a cocky smile on his lips, she stopped. She wasn't about to give Troy the idea that she was the least bit interested in him.

After a slightly awkward ten minute drive, Troy pulls into a parking space with 'Hoops Man' written on the parking stone.

"Uhh...Thanks for the ride and bagel," she says as she has her hand poised on the truck's handle.

"Wait a minute. Do you know where you're going?"

She looks at him like he grew a second head. "First period. Where else?"

"On a normal day, yes. We've got Wildcat Connect today."

"What?"

"Wildcat Connect. It's basically a free period that we go to every Friday, where they update us on all school news and tell us that we should be thinking about what we're going to do for the rest of our lives."

Suddenly, she is grateful for his presence. She doesn't think that she would be able to handle it if she made a complete fool out of herself by walking into the wrong classroom.

"You have Darbus with me," he informs her, earning an odd look. "Your schedule kind of fell out when I put the bagel in your bag."

Of course we have have homeroom together! It would be too much to ask if the world actually made it easy for me to ignore you. She thinks as she lets out an exasperated breath and props open the truck's door. "Lead the way," she says as she slides off the seat and slams the door behind her. She crosses her arms just below her chest and waits patiently as he collects his backpack from the bed of the truck. As they make their way through the parking lot, she catches sight of other students dressed in red and white from head to toe. One student, she observes, even has their hair dyed and a bright red 'E' painted on their cheek. "Is everyone always this school spirited on game days?"

"Pretty much," he replies as he waves to a police officer in a red and white golf cart. He adverts his eyes back to her and scans over her petite body. "You know, for someone that wants to blend in , you sure know how to stand out."

"Excuse me?"

"Easy now," he says as he notes the sharpness in her voice. "That was just me pointing out that you chose to wear a black jacket in a sea of red and white."

"Oh darn, cuz making a good impression on my peers was at the top of my to do list," she says sarcastically as she flings open the front entrance and holds it open for him.

He gives her curt nod and a small smile as he leads her down the nearly empty halls. "Well, being seen with me is bound to give you some popularity points."

She rolls her eyes at him and continues walking by his side. Biting her lip, she looks around as only a handful of students. "Should we be worried about getting a tardy slip?"

"Technically, yes because Darbus's room is at the other side of this campus and we have," he pauses to glance at his watch then turns to her, "about six minutes before we're late."

She doesn't sense a tinge of worry in his voice, nor does his pace quicken. If anything, his steps seem to be slowing down. She matches his pace and looks up at him with her head tilted sideways. "And we're not rushing because?"

"I just don't see the point in rushing when we might not even make it. You probably wouldn't be able to keep up with me anyway," he says the last bit with a smirk.

"You are so cocky, how does anyone tolerate you?" She raises a hand to silence him when he opens his mouth. "That was a rhetorical question. Besides, what makes you think I couldn't beat you?"

He gives a careless shrug. "Nothing personal, it's just that I work out at least three times a week for basketball. Besides I'm taller, thus having longer legs."

The little jab at her five foot one and a half height. is enough to force her to think of just the moment at hand. She wants to prove him wrong. No, she needs to prove him wrong. "Want to bet?"

"What's in it for me?"

She ponders for a bit. What could she offer him? She knows what he would like her to do, but she ignores that annoying voice in the back of her head and says, "I'll go to that party you mentioned, willingly and at least pretend to enjoy."

"Excellent," he says with a approving smile. "In the off chance that you win, what do you get out of it?"

She knows that she isn't at liberty to ask much of him, so she settles for the bit she can control. "I don't have to go out tonight."

He immediately shakes his head. "No deal. I propose that you do come tonight and if you don't enjoy your girl time with Taylor and Sharpay while I play, then you don't have to go to the party."

"Okay, I think I can live with that." She places a hand over the strap of her messenger bag to make sure it stays put. "You ready?"

He mimics her action and they both stop. "Darbus's room is at the end of this hall on the left side. It's the first door on your left. On the count of three"

"One!" she says as she positions herself to take off.

"Two!" he says as he smiles at how competitive she looks.

"Three!" they say as they take off running through the East High halls. The few students that line the walls stop and stare. It's not the fact that two students are racing down the hall that catches their attention. They're put in shock as they see it's their beloved basketball captain and a new girl.

Gabriella is oblivious to the attention she's getting because she's focused solely on beating him and nothing else. The sight of Troy only a few steps in front of her is enough for her to ignore the sharp pain eating at her side and push herself harder. As they round the corner at the end of the hallway, she is in the lead. Her heart pounds fast and hard against her chest. Fuck. I can actually win this. She thinks as she slows down upon seeing a door frame decorated with theatrical face masks. Placing a hand over her beating heart, she stops right in front of the opened door and turns around to face him. "I win," she breaths.

"God you're fast," he mutters as he readjusts the strap of his backpack and works on steadying his breathing. He observes her flushed cheeks and the smirk gracing her bare lips. Despite the fact that his ego is a bit shot, he can't help but smile at yet another facet about her that he uncovered. "Yeah, yeah. You'll have time to rub it in later," he says as he turns her around by placing his hands on her shoulders and then guiding her into the classroom. The bell rings from above their heads as they were taking not more than two steps into the classroom.

"Cutting it close again, Mr. Bolton," an elderly women dressed in a dramatic red scarf and thick rimmed glasses says from a director's chair on a miniature stage. Her gaze then softens as she meets the eyes of the petite brunette in front of him. "Ah. Ms. Montez, I presume. Welcome to East High."

The brunette just nods and forces a polite smile on her face. Without the adrenaline coursing through her body, she's exceedingly aware of all of the pairs of eyes on her. She adverts her eyes to the floor and is suddenly hypnotized by a scuff on her leather patent shoes.

"Mr. Bolton, care to explain why you and Ms. Montez are so out of breath?"

He lets out an awkward cough and reaches a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Not really."

"Then I advise you to take your seat. Ms. Montez, I apologize. The only seat available is in the back."

She mutters something incoherent and makes her way to the back of the room. As she walks down the aisle, she passes by some familiar faces. She slides her bag off of her shoulder and collapses into the desk chair. The room fills with chatter as Ms. Darbus does her best to talk over her many students. The brunette focuses on a scuff mark on the floor. Her mind shifts into neutral as she stares and attempts to sort through whatever feeling the blue-eyed boy brings out in her. Had she really just race down a hallway with him because of a silly bet? For once, she didn't feel like she had to follow through the predetermined course of her day. She surprised herself by being so spontaneous and showing him the slightest glimpse of her old personality. The girl that would brake out into song and skip down hallways, not caring about what anyone thought about her. For almost four months, she was able to suppress that part of her and almost completely phase it out. She wants to convince herself that he has no affect on her and that she doesn't deserve the happiness that her old life brought. It's been drilled into her every thoughts that she can't allow herself to feel anything besides the guilt and heartache that she caused. Then he comes along and she's suddenly thrown for a loop. He provokes her, like waving a piece of meet does to a untamed dog. She can't control whatever she is feeling for him whether it be hatred or love.

A manicured finger jabs into her sides, eliciting a quiet yelp from her and yanks her out of her thoughts. She snaps her head to the left and is surprised to see the beautiful blonde from yesterday, dressed in white jeans and a glittery red tank. Beside her is Taylor in white capris and a red polo with a red headband in her curly locks "Hi," she says as she offers the best smiles she can muster.

"Hey Gabriella!" they greet simultaneously as Sharpay takes a seat in the now vacant chair in front of her and Taylor slides to the seat to her left.

The brunette looks around the room and furrows her brows as she sees that everyone is up and out of their seats, mingling with each other. "Are announcements done?"

"Maybe if you weren't thinking about Troy, then you would of noticed," the blonde teases with a smirk.

Taylor, who gives a motherly vibe, shakes her head at a blushing Gabriella, "Deny it all you want, but one thing's for sure. Troy definitely is thinking about you."

She resists the urge to roll her chocolate brown eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Golden Boy's been starring at you for the last 5 minutes or so."

Sure enough, when Gabriella looks up, piercing blue eyes are starring back at her. He looks down bashfully, like a little kid caught sneaking a bite of cookie before dinner, when his eyes meet hers. In a matter of minutes, he intrudes on the group of female's circle, along with his two friends dressed in the same clothing as him.

The darker skinned and taller male of Troy's friends is the first to break the awkward silence. "Hi, I'm Zeke! You must be Gabriella. It's nice to finally meet you."

"And I'm Chad from Chem. It's nice to be formally introduced," the shortest of the three says with a pleasant smile. "You mind if I call you Gabs?"

"I guess not," she says as she starts wringing her hands.

"Well then, Gabs, where's all of your school spirit?"

She shrugs her shoulders pulls on her sleeves. "Didn't think it was such a big deal."

"In that case," Sharpay begins with a wide smile, "it's a good thing I'm here." The blonde takers her oversized red bag and pulls out a make up bag. Unlike Gabriella's, the bag contains actual make up and other beautifiers. "Taylor, why don't you braid Gabriella's hair into two French braids." She empties the makeup bag on to Gabriella's desktop. and out rolls a bottle of red nail polish, a nail file, several red elastic bands, red ribbon, eyeliner, an eyeshadow palette, and a small brush.

Gabriella's eyes widen and she tries to pull back when Sharpay reaches for her hand.

"Troy, I don't know about you, but I feel like I'm seriously invading on girl time," Chad says as he takes a noticeably large step back.

Troy nods and grins at Gabriella as he backs away. "Definitely man. I saw we go bug Darbus about giving back the basketball she confiscated last week."

Zeke kisses the top of Sharpay's head and follows the other boys' lead.

"Chad didn't even acknowledge my presence." Taylor complains as she moves to stand behind Gabriella. "I think I went after the wrong basketball player."

Sharpay laughs as she shapes Gabriella's nails with the file, a mischievous smile falling on her lips. "How do you feel about sports bras?"

"They're okay," Gabriella replies uneasily. "You know, it's really not necessary for either of you to do this."

The blonde ignores her as she puts down the file and picks up the red nail polish. "And paint? No objections to paint?"

Instinctively, the brunette begins to shake her head, but Taylor steadies it. "Don't move, sweetie. What Sharpay is trying to get you to agree to is this tradition we do. Every once in awhile, we go to a game in red sports bras and paint our stomachs red with a white number painted on it for our boyfriends' number. Shars really into showing her school spirit."

"So, what do you say?"

The petite brunette's eyes practically pop out of her head. Expose not only her arms, but her stomach as well?

Hell no. That will never happen.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Gabriella, this better not be because your body conscious."

In a way, yes!

"Cuz you're tiny!" Taylor adds with a smile and pokes Gabriella's flat stomach.

Her mind races as she searches for a reasonable excuse. Sensitive skin? No red sports bra? Religious beliefs? What excuse was there? Sharpay projects a 'I get what I want' persona, providing her with a skills to find a loophole in everything.

"Darbus won't give me back my basketball," Chad whines and all but stomps his feet like a two-year-old that doesn't get his way.

"So, what are we talking about here?" Troy asks as he gives Chad a playful shove.

"Shar and I were just trying to convince Gabs over here that she should wear a red sports bra and paint her stomach."

"I bet Troy would like that." Chad sneers and exchanges a high five with Zeke.

Troy tries to hide his embarrassment by slapping Chad across the back of his head. "Dude!"

The blonde rolls her eyes as she begins to add a second coat of nail polish. "Anyway, we're not taking 'no' for answer."

"Thanks for the offer, but I work after school and there's no way I can paint my torso by myself. So..." Even to her own ears, the excuse sounded pathetic.

"Not a problem. Tay and I can pick you up when you're done with work and take you back to my house."

"Yeah, it'll be fun getting ready!" Taylor exclaims as she ties off the second braid. "Mind if I draw a tiny paw at the corner of your eye?"

Gabriella nods absentmindedly as she thinks of a way to get out of this. Panic sets in and there's nothing more she would rather do than just run out of there. She's having a hard time controlling the anxiety that's building in her. In desperation, she raises her eyes to Troy and silently pleads to him for help. Now would be the time for him to come to her rescue.


A/N: She's in a bit of a pickle, isn't she? And really confused. =P I apologize again for the wait. I'm on brake right now so I'm planning on dedicating Saturday and Sunday to writing more chapters for this. Merry Christmas! or Hanukkah! or Kwanzaa! or whatever you celebrate or don't celebrate!
Much Love,
Kae xoxo