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Chapter 9

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Forbidden. The word seemed so final, so absolute. Troy wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm, trying not to think about it so much. He let his fingers dance across his water bottle, tapping out a silent rhythm as he took a breather. Moments later he took up the ball that had rolled halfway down the driveway and put his concentration in making his steps and breathing even, matching the noise of the ball as it hit the drive. Unfortunately, this only emphasized Troy's thoughts. forbidden.forbidden.forbidden. Every time the ball hit the concrete, Troy heard the word again.

Forbidden to see Ella. Forbidden to attend rehearsal - though Darbus only agreed because the ensemble needed major work and the tech crew hadn't finished half of the scenery. Forbidden to call any number not approved by his father personally.

Frustration overwhelmed Troy and he let out a roar as he slammed the ball into the ground, letting it bounce away slowly. He watched it with disinterest. He'd been out here practicing for a few hours, ignoring his father whenever he stood by the back door and shouted pointers or encouragement. He was simply counting down the hours until the next day, when Troy could finally return to school and see Ella in the few classes they had together.

He'd been allowed a three minute call to Ella to let her know that he was unable to see her any longer. It had been three of the most painful minutes he'd ever had to experience. He hadn't even been really able to say anything, with his father standing by his shoulder, monitoring the call for time.

At least at school he'd be able to see Ella, in the hallways, between classes, during group projects and homeroom. There were several pressing detriments to having a parent working at the school; Troy didn't know how he was supposed to function in his classes with his father popping in "every now and again" - as he put it - to check up on him.

Troy knew that if he attempted to see Gabi during this punishment period, things could turn out badly for him, but he was past the point of caring. They still had Thomas to worry about and Troy was not going to just pretend that everything was fine and over now that they had gotten Gabi back. He still had to take care of her and look after her and there was no way some threat of being 'grounded' was going to keep him from doing what he needed to protect his Ella.

Monday finally came, bringing with it a tense silence that filled the Bolton household. His mother left early for work and so there was no barrier to diffuse the hostility and strain between father and son. Troy shoved a handful of dollar bills into his pocket, unwilling to trust himself to making a sandwich, knowing he'd screw it up in his anger.

On the drive over, the mass of dull rage that was building at his spine slowly built and Troy knew that by the end of the day, someone would have to deal with the brunt of his temper. It eased slightly when his father sped past White Street and Troy spotted Gabi, Chad and Jason - Chad having obviously taken to heart the text message he'd managed to send before his father had gotten a hold of his cell phone the night before. It was part of the new routine his father set up, so that Troy couldn't call anyone he wasn't "supposed to".

He'd sent Chad a message, imploring him to look after Gabi while he couldn't and although Troy could see from a quick glimpse that Chad was struggling with his leg, he knew his friend would be true to his word and true to his friendship with Ella. Jason must've caught up to them somewhere along the way and Troy couldn't be more glad. At least now he could relax about Gabi getting to school safely now.

The day continued without incident, at least not until lunch. Troy had spent every last moment possible in Gabi's presence, trading seats with Sharpay in homeroom, putting up with having Ryan in his group in AP Chemistry because he worked at the same table as Ella and even sprinting halfway across campus so to be able to walk Gabi to her math class and still be on time for his own. It seemed to be working out well for the most part, even if Troy arrived breathless and panting for trig - but at lunch, it all went downhill. Troy figured that with his father going out for lunch like he usual did around this time, he was safe to spend the period with his girlfriend. They met up around the back of the school where small groups sat on the walls and sidewalks and under trees by the field.

The moment he was several feet from the dark haired girl, he opened his arms and she fell into them gratefully. "Missed you," she said, her face buried in Troy's shoulder, her words muffled by his sweatshirt. It seemed faintly ridiculous to Troy that either should miss the other the way they did, having just seen each other the period before, but it was like the knowledge that they couldn't see each other made them notice when the other wasn't around almost constantly.

"Missed you too," Troy said, dropping a kiss on top of her head before taking her hand in his and leading her to a shady patch of wall where he'd left his lunch. He settled his hands on her hips, picking her up and settling her gently on the wall making her giggle, before hopping up himself.

"Always the gentleman," Gabi teased, taking a bite of her sandwich. Troy bowed as much as one can while sitting before digging into his own lunch. Moments later, several fries disappeared from his plate and Troy watched Gabi munch on them, her eyes twinkling. He leant forward suddenly and chomped a bite of the sandwich she held in her hand provoking a squawk from his girlfriend. "Get your own lunch Bolton!" she said, half laughing, half trying to keep Troy from stealing another bite.

"I could say the same thing to you Montez," he said, amusement plain in his tone. "These fries are mine, and unless you're willing to share your sandwich, no fries for you." Gabi pretended to lunge for the fries, faking Troy out repeatedly, laughing all the while, before Troy just gave up and hauled her into his lap. "Alright, new deal," he said, unable to keep from grinning.

"I'm listening," Gabi said from her perch on Troy's knees, blinking innocently.

"I propose that-"

"Troy Bolton." A voice like steel cut through and Troy looked up slowly, dreading what was to come. His father stood before him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "Come with me." Troy stood slowly, moving as if he was submerged in water. He handed Gabi his carton of fries with a sad smile, which she returned even as he pressed a kiss against her cheek. "Now." The voice had grown dangerously quiet. Troy moved towards his father, expecting the shouting match of the century but being only greeted with his father's back as he walked away. Troy froze for a moment before hurriedly following, unsure of where he was being led or what he was going to be sentenced to do.

He followed his dad in silence, watching as they passed most of the buildings of the school until they reached the gym. Even the familiar sight of newly waxed floors and old and beaten stands couldn't comfort him. He was led into his father's office and his father moved to sit in his own chair, gesturing that Troy should do the same. Troy hunched over, biting his lip as he watched his dad, who sorted through papers almost aimlessly.

His eyes never lifted to Troy's face.

He'd never done that before, his dad had never simply avoided his eyes, leaving Troy to stew. Troy wasn't sure he was comfortable with this version of his father - he was sure that if his father had been shouting at him that he would be more comfortable. As of now, Troy was starting to feel the guilt building at the base of his spine where the rage had been this morning. He had purposely ignored what his father had said, purposely disobeyed him - all for Gabi, which meant it was worth it - but still. His family, particularly his father, meant the world to him. Had he disappointed him? What would his dad do?

They sat like that for minutes and Troy found himself fidgeting nervously in a way that he'd never done before, crossing his fingers, tapping his feet, cracking his knuckles, rolling his neck, snapping his fingers until he broke. "Uh, Dad - what are you gonna do?" Troy's father stilled and finally looked up. His eyes were unreadable and Troy watched him anxiously.

"You are grounded," he said, his voice quiet. "You will have no access to your cell phone or computer and any calls made from the house phone will be monitored." Troy swallowed hard but nodded. "You will also be unable to attend any after school functions, nor remain in the school after the last bell without my presence. I will drive you to and from school and…" he trailed off, staring flatly at his son and Troy half wished he would go back to shouting. This flat, emotionless speech was only increasing the guilt he was feeling. "And I'm disappointed in you Troy. I can't trust you any longer." Troy let out a long breath, surprised on how much that hurt.

He'd been so angry with his father for not understanding, for not giving him a chance to explain and for being so unfair that he'd forgotten how much he'd depended on him. Shit, fuck, hell. His father returned to flipping through papers and Troy took that to be the dismissal it was. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He had to protect Gabi - that was his first priority, but no longer was it his only one. Now he had to worry after his father, trying not to disappoint him and try to find someway to regain his trust. It seemed impossible, but he would have to manage, some way.

Somehow.

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Days passed and Troy no longer sought Gabi out between classes, simply spending every waking moment by her side in the ones they had together. The teachers cast a blind eye and for that Troy was grateful. He knew that any of them could report him to his father but either Troy looked that pitiful or they simply liked Gabriella that much. Troy was hoping on the latter.

Troy spent his lunch period in the gym, practicing, hoping that his dedication would somehow sway his father back over to his side, but everyday it happened the same way. His father would come in and Troy would already be there, halfway into the hundred free throws he did at the beginning of every practice and Troy would concentrate on hearing the perfect swish as his father walked by, trying not to stare in his direction. His father would pause at the doorway towards the locker rooms, but never glance back, before heading to his office and Troy would miss the next ten shots in the row.

Troy would walk into his father's office a minute after the final bell of the day rang, packed up to go, unless it was a Tuesday or Thursday, and then he would be ready for basketball practice. Troy spent most of practice working harder than he ever had in his life or making sure his father didn't notice that Chad was lacking, his leg giving him major problems.

It was Friday and Troy didn't know whether to be thankful that the torturous days of school were over - seeing Gabi and only holding hands and passing notes, knowing that his best wasn't good enough for his dad anymore because he'd screwed it up, worrying that Chad would seriously damage his leg the way he was carrying on as if nothing was wrong, constantly on the look out for Thomas - or horrified that he would only be seeing the inside of his house for the next two days.

He supposed it didn't matter either way, because he would be home for the next forty-eight hours. He jogged out of the front entrance of the school, down the stone steps, his eyes flicking automatically to his dad's usual parking place. Most of the cars were already gone and the buses had left over an hour ago. The extra curriculars were just wrapping up and Troy had been forced to stay and sit while his father ran a practice for the middle school. His father was already standing beside his car, loading some equipment into his trunk and Troy sighed. Another awkwardly silent ride home, where neither Bolton spoke to the other.

Troy slowed as he reached the car and stooped to pick up the last box of equipment and drop it in the trunk. He studiously did not look at his dad, who was watching him intently. The silence that had fallen was only broken by the slamming close of the trunk. Troy wanted desperately to say something, but nothing suitable came to mind so he mirrored his father and moved to the passenger side door. Almost out of habit, Troy cast a glance back at the school, as if checking that it was still there. What caught his eye felt like a punch to the chest.

Thomas was walking into the school.

Troy just stared. It was like someone was messing with his head, there was no other explanation. He had been slipped something, he had been drugged, something. Thomas was not here, not at the school, which Troy had been treating like a haven, which he knew Ella saw as the one place she could relax. Troy blinked, rubbed at his eyes.

And blinked again.

No, his eyes weren't lying. His brain hadn't malfunctioned, Thomas was walking up the steps as if he belonged here. No one gave him a second glance. Except Troy, who moved almost on auto-pilot. He took several steps towards the school, ready to bolt when a large hand settled on his shoulder.

"Troy, get in the car," his dad said, barely glancing at him as he nudged him towards the car.

"Uh, dad, I got to go back inside real quick," Troy said, hoping his tone hadn't sounded as desperate as he thought it had. His dad gave him a penetrating look.

"No Troy, you have all your stuff. Let's go."

"Dad, you don't understand, I really have to get back inside, Gabi-"

"Troy," his father said warningly, opening Troy's car door for him and staring at it meaningfully. "Don't start with me. Get in the car, we're going."

"Dad-"

"Troy, do you want to do this again? I'd thought you were learning your lesson, I thought losing my trust meant something, but now I can see I was wrong." The look Troy received from his father felt like another punch to the chest, this time deeper. He'd heard this speech before, but there was a sadness to it this time, like his father couldn't believe that Troy was one of those kids, the ones whose parents sat up at night talking about just what were they going to do with them, whose parents couldn't trust them, didn't actually like them. It was all Troy could do to force himself to slide into the front seat, staring out his window, watching helplessly as Thomas simply walked into the school.

Closer to Gabi. Closer to the most important thing in his life. Closer to his everything.

Too far away.

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Author's Note: Sorry for being months later than I said. God, I'm SO BAD at this following through thing. (So no more promises, just me trying reaaaally hard not to let you guys down, again.) I think part of the problem is that I write to music - I exist to music actually - and so I've been meaning to ask you all, are there any songs that you think fit Troy and Ella, or just True Drama in general? I'm open to pretty much all kinds of music - except HSM, because there is only so many times one can listen to the soundtrack, and I'm pretty much nearing the edge, hah - so just drop a name and artist or an album or show or something - because every time I listen to some of my favorite songs, I always get inspired - for a different fic. And I'd very much like to be inspired for this fic. (Plus, I usually have a length I shoot for, about 5-6 pages at size 10 font and this sat at page four-ish for the longest time. Gah. And it's still the shortest chapter to date.)

Another question: there have been a few bits, arguments and phone calls and things that have been left out. And my muse is tingling to write some of them I guess - would anyone be interested in seeing ficlets of these moments (how Troy called Ella last chapter, what the phone call to Ella to explain not being able to see her anymore was like, how the hell Chad got home last chapter…stuff like that)?

Okay, HSM2. Best parts? Clearly Chad and Ryan. (Lucas Grabeel pretty much just owns. Corbin is just pure love.) I don't think there are enough words to how much I adore those two. That's pretty much all I can come up with on the fly right now, just know that I Don't Dance was my favorite number.

Again, sorry about the wait. Having it planned out does not necessarily mean one is automatically equipped with everything one needs to write. Plus, everything I've been writing recently has been coming out a bit awkwardly - my phrasing needs some work. Ick. Anyway, enough of me babbling, leave me long reviews you dear, wonderful, darling, amazing people! You guys make my life, my weeks, my days, my months, etc. (Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorrrrrry about the wait.)

See you next time, same bat time (hopefully sooner though!!!), same bat channel,

-B