A/N: HELLO HAPPY PEOPLE!
So, just like to say I hope you like this one, and, for the 1000th time, THANK YOU SO MUCH to my best friend and beta reader LittleMissEmz, who is always so eager to help me along with this story (especially when her character is involved. LOL.)
This is most likely the last chpater for a while, because if I don't do some homework this week I won't ever do it. Then, the week after next, I have to focus on my History Controlled Assessment. :L Basically, even though I CANNOT WAIT for certain chapter to come, I have to focus on some priorities..
Oh, and I'm moving house at the beginning of November [:(] , so I may not have a computer for a bit... We'll have to see!
LOTS OF LOVE.
––STARSWalkBACKWARD xxxx
Disclaimer: Still own nothing. I wish, but no.
This chapter is dedicated to the one, the only, Zac Efron - who is 24 in a few hours..
He is my main inspiration for all I write, because he's such a great, beautiful and generous person (and of course, because he IS Troy Bolton.)
HAPPY 24TH BIRTHDAY, to my beautiful, beautiful husband - whose gorgeous self, amazing talent, and cute dorky-ness keeps me going.
I LOVE YOU, ZAC.
Spring (Easter) Break - Day 15 (Monday)
"You could have left me, on a Friday. Would have loved to at least have the weekend. To go under, and to stay under. To get better, and to stay better.
But you had to, pick a Monday. Now I gotta go to work and get through five days. And get through it, if I can't do it. No, I can't do it.
Tryna' focus - to go unnoticed, but the harder I try I see them looking. I can't do it, no. They see through me. They see through it.
There's a heartbreaking chill running through my bones. I've got my clothes but I can barely feel them on. Whatever I do. I'm naked. I'm naked, without you. Can't go out, can't go home, can't go anywhere. I'm walking straight, covered up, but I'm still watching people stare. Now what can I do? I'm naked, I'm naked, without you."
—'Naked' - Leona Lewis.
The Nice One
The total contentment of the night before had disappeared by the morning. All Gabriella felt now was anxiety of what was to come. She ran through the events of the night before, over and over, as she lay staring at the off-white ceiling of her bedroom.
He had kissed her.
Troy Bolton had kissed her.
So why did she feel so on edge, like she had been thrown in the deep end when she had no idea how to swim?
"What the hell do I do now?" she asked herself in a murmur.
She didn't know how long she lay there, thinking and worrying about how to act around Troy at work that day, no amount of time seemed long enough.
"God, oh god,"she groaned, pulling her hair and head into her hands. "What the fuck do I do now?"
—x—X—x—
Troy Bolton awoke from a haze of memories and fantasies within his dreams that had been caused by the events of the night before.
Though he was somewhat relieved he had taken the step last night, he also suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety.
Had he done the right thing by dragging Gabriella into his life like this?
Because, truth be told, Troy worried about her.
He worried about people judging her––just like the group of bitchy girls at the mall. He had become increasingly aware as he spent more time with her of the way people looked at her—how they stared at her—as she walked past.
He recalled how, once, he would have done the same.
And that scared him—how much this one girl had changed him already, and how much he hadneeded that change.
He sat up and rubbed the sleep dust from his eyes, lazily. His anxiety was climbing—which was totally against his character—and he found himself staring at a photo of himself and Chad, together with all the East High 'Wildcats.'
Would they act like he feared when the word got out about his attraction to Gabriella?
Was his attraction obvious?
Even if they exclaimed their outrage to the world—which he didn't doubt they would—he was desperate to show her he would not follow suit.
He prayed he wouldn't do something stupid.
He wouldn't shun her out.
Suddenly he heard his phone ring and vibrate at his bedside.
He picked it up and stared down at it.
Chad.
"Hello?"
"'Sup Hoops."
"What do you want, man?"
Chad laughed tenderly. "Ouch, man. Not nice."
Troy laughed once, slight bitterness In his voice.
"Not nice, my ass," he said. "What the hell were you doing yesterday, Chad? You were being so... despicable—I, I can't believe you."
"Oh,"Chad realised, regretfully. "Yeah, about that...Would you mind explaining that to me?"
Troy frowned. "Excuse me?"
"Dude, explain to me why you were out in town with...her."
"Her name, is Gabriella."
"Why the fuck were you with her, man? She stalking you or something? You always were the nice one––too nice to say no."
Troy's features creased with bewilderment.
"What? No, Chad. No. Just stop."
There was quiet.
"What has gotten into you, man? Seriously. This is bullshit! You're the playmaker. You're meant to be the face of East High.Why the fuck are you hanging out with her?"
Troy could feel his frustration building.
"Because I want to, damn it!" he spat angrily. "You always were so naïve, Chad. Why can't you just accept the fact that I like spending time with her? End of story. It has nothing to do with you. It's my life! Quit being my dad and just support me!"
Chad didn't speak for a moment. "I'm only trying to show you that you're making a big mistake."
Troy chuckled bitterly. "No. The mistake was mine, when I let myself think for one minute that you'd be a friend––be a brother––and at least try to understand."
There was no sound from Chad, which made Troy guess he was either fighting anger or guilt.
"Was there a particular reason you called––other than to try and take my freedom of dating from me?
Chad let out a snide chuckle.
"Kingston's back. Y'know, just, FYI."
Troy felt himself grip the phone hard.
"He'll most likely be a Lava Springs today. Brace yourself."
At that moment, Troy was gratefully for Chad's words of warning after they had a disagreement.
"Bastard," Troy cursed at the thought of his only enemy, as he rubbed a hand over his eyes.
"So, just rang to warn you."
There was a crackle.
"And Bolton, if you do insist on pursuing that disabled chick, bare in mind that––knowing Kingston––whatever you want––no matter how damaged it is––he will most definitely want it too."
"Chad. Thanks," he said, and he could almost feel his friend relax at his calm, quiet, friendly words.
"But, just, y'know, FYI," he mimicked, sternly. "Gabriella is not just some 'disabled chick,'" he ground out through his teeth, letting his anger show again.
"And Chad. She is most definitely. Not. Damaged."
Troy slammed his finger down on the end call button as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as his anger, frustration and protection for Gabriella was ready to peak.
Since when had it gotten this bad?
Troy was still holding the phone, concentrating on his breathing and thoughts, long after Chad had gone.
Chad's last words, though sincere and non-threatening as they were, had imprinted themselves into his mind.
He felt his frown deepening.
He had been planning to make sure Gabriella knew his true intentions today.
But now, everything was different.
Now, he couldn't risk Kingston seeing them close at Lava Springs.
He couldn't give him the opportunity to start up one of his sick mind games.
Not on Gabriella.
No way.
Troy stood and began to dress for the day, feeling a sudden weight on his chest, shoulders, and mind.
He tried to return to his normal, calm self as four words circled his brain.
No. Way. in. Hell.
—x—X—x—
Gabriella stared into the mirror of the passenger seat in their Chrysler Grand Voyager as she tried to adjust her contact lens.
"Damn it, mom. I told you. He's just a friend."
Maria Montez didn't even try to look convinced. "Okay, okay, I believe you..." She paused as she watched her daughter relax beside her. "He is kinda' cute, though, don't you think?"
Gabriella blushed and her ears burned. "I... wouldn't disagree."
Both Irish-Fillipino-Portrquese Latinas laughed then, knowing the feeling was, in fact, mutual.
"He has beautiful blue eyes, and a smile you'd know anywhere. He's a lovely boy," said Maria as they approached and pulled up outside the back of Lava Springs.
Gabriella momentarily was distracted from her daily nerves at the mention of Troy. "Not just that," she said, distractedly. "He has a heart you'd know anywhere too."
Gabriella rushed through the door of the kitchen, trying to calm the fear she felt when Troy Bolton was nowhere to be seen. Clocking herself in quickly, she grabbed her black apron and tying it around her middle. Her sky blue blouse felt crisp, her black skirt not too tight, her shoes comfortable, and her tights brand new, but somehow something didn't feel right.
Where was Troy when she needed him?
Wait, what? She needed him? Since when?
Gabriella busied herself bantering with Emily, who was busy cooking breakfast for guests. No sooner had she distracted herself, when someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned quickly, expecting Troy, only to find an unexpected, unwanted surprise, and felt her stomach drop.
Adam Kingston.
"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice like liquid heat.
He had bright greeny-blue eyes, and light, sandy flicking mass of hair.
He wasn't bad looking at all really.
Shame he was such an ass.
What a waste, she thought.
"No," she said, curtly. "No. You don't."
He flicked his hair, and rose his eyebrows.
"I'm Adam. Kingston. Best friend of the Evans', who own this place."
Gabriella heard Emily snort beside her, and she resisted the urge to follow suit.
"Oh," Emily said, sarcastically. "So, that's why you're still working as a waiter... Hmm. Makes sense."
Gabriella burst out with laughter at Emily's clever comment, but soon silenced at the look Adam was giving her. He glared at Emily—who he had evidently known as long as he had known Troy—but he didn't look at Gabriella the same way.
This is weird.
As per usual, Gabriella struggled to even achieve eye contact—she wouldn't have even if she could however––not when she knew what he was like.
He didn't move to leave, so Gabriella looked at him, confused.
"Don't you have work to do?" she asked, not caring if it sounded rude.
He folded his strong arms over his chest. "Don't you?" he asked, knowingly. The smirk on his face made her wish she had the guts to hit him.
When she didn't answer him, he neared her even more, and she felt a lump in her throat.
"What's your name, sweetie?"
Gabriella looked at him skeptically.
"Most definitely notsweetie."
Her words seemed to boast his egotistical levels even higher, making her exceedingly frustrated.
Paul was pulling Emily away to help him with cooking as he caught her attention.
"Gabriella! Would you like to help me do some'a this until your shift starts?" he called, and she knew that by 'until your shift starts,' he really meant 'until Troy gets here.' She sighed inwardly.
Adam smirked again.
"So, you're Gabriella."
She said nothing, praying he would let her past.
"Gabriella," he tested. "Hmm... Has a lovely ring to it. I could get used to that one."
Gabriella wanted to laugh in his face, so she did.
"Too bad you won't ever get too then, eh?"
"Yeah," Adam said, smugly. "I guess you could say that."
She looked to the door again, praying to see a particular familiar presence enter the room. A moment later, her prayer was finally answered, as the dark haired, tanned, serene Troy Bolton glided in and got out his key.
He looked up at her a moment later, and Gabriella could swear she saw him grimace at the sight of who was occupying her time.
"Excuse me," she said, curtly again, before rounding him completely and walking straight to Troy, who suddenly looked very relieved.
Troy smirked a little at the very obvious look of surprise on Kingston's face when he witnessed Gabriella's walk for the first time.
Priceless, he thought.
"Hi, Troy," Gabriella said, suddenly cheery.
Troy looked at her smiling face a few metres away, and couldn't help but smile equally back at her, despite the weight and dread he was feeling.
"Hello." He said, simply. "How are you?"
Gabriella's heart jolted at his impersonal tone. Ouch.
"I'm... fine, thank you, Bolton."
"You survived the walk home I see," he said, teasingly, before his expression blanked again.
"Yes, obviously," she said sarcastically, trying desperately to awake the playful Troy she had experienced the night before. He had still to succeed. "Even though I have no idea what you're on about, because I didn't walk home. You drove me, remember?" she hinted.
Troy gave her an amused expression, but not much more. "Yeah. Sure I did. Total gentleman that I am."
Before Gabriella could speak again, Adam jumped in.
"Well, I wouldn't go that far, Bolton."
Troy threw him an icy look for joining in where he wasn't wanted.
"I mean, aren't gentlemen meant to be able to holddown their women?"
Troy's jaw set as he resisted the urge to grind his teeth.
"Back off, Kingston."
Adam laughed, basking in the knowledge that the whole kitchen was just about watching their every move.
"Always the nice one," Adam sniped quietly.
Again with the nice! Troy's mind growled. Why is nice such a bad thing?
Gabriella likes nice.
"I'm not doing this with you again, Kingston. Not now, not ever. Just back off, man."
Gabriella admired Troy's serenity as he kept a happy, non-cocky, non-threatening Bolton smile on his face.
"Bolton," one of the other waiters called. "You ready?"
Troy tied his apron around his middle, before turning to Gabriella with a reassuring smile. "Yup," he called, grabbing a tray and walking through to the restaurant entrance. Gabriella followed him, but once they reached the door he took a step sideways and pushed it open for her. "Ladies first," he said flatly.
Gabriella smiled at him, despite her confusion at his distant attitude, inwardly jittery after the way the day had begun.
Troy's eyes followed her as she walked in front of him. Once they went separate directions however, Troy focused all his attention on trying to keep Gabriella away from Adam Kingston, and visa versa.
It was lunch when everything changed.
It turned 1:30 and Gabriella felt uneasy, just as she had done even before her run-in with Kingston that morning. She sat with her sandwich––made by Emily––in the kitchen, feeling lost. Troy hadn't spoken to her since he arrived. He had virtually blanked her whenever she tried to chat with him, and being as unexperienced as she was, she had no idea how to handle it.
Urgh, boys are so confusing!
Emily came and literally plonked herself down next to Gabriella, looking defeated.
"Seriously, right now I just want Troy to punch that asshole and get it over with."
Gabriella frowned.
"I don't really like the idea of Troy getting angry."
She laughed. "Bitch, you shouldn't. It's fucking scary. Scary as shit."
Gabriella laughed at her brash attitude that only she could ever pull off. She sat for a second and sighed. "Why should he punch him, exactly?"
Emily looked at her, ludicrously. "Well, why shouldn't he? I mean, the guy's a douche! You were there when he tried to hit on you this morning, and I trust you also know about his past misbehaviours."
Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Evidently."
Emily sighed. "All I'm saying is, he deserves it, okay?"
When Gabriella said nothing, Emily continued.
"How much do you know?" she asked. Gabriella, not wanting to say something wrong, settled with a simple answer.
"That Kingston stole Troy's first girlfriend, and that he's afraid it might happen again."
"He told you that?"
Gabriella let out a slight scoff. "No––Well––the first part, yes. I guessed the second part. I mean, it's not hard to guess that's what scares him."
"It's, like, the only thing that scares him, just about," Emily said humorously as she bit into her own sandwich. "Where is he anyway?"
Gabriella shrugged, causing Emily to frowned, bemused.
"You don't know? But he's, like, obsessed with you!"
Gabriella looked at her ludicrously, her head telling her that Emily was being ridiculous. "What? Troy Bolton is not obsessed with me. You're crazy."
"Dude, yes he is. I mean, not in a creepy way or anything, but... y'know what I mean."
Gabriella shook her head, dismissively. "Again––You're crazy."
Emily turned to her, her dark blue eyes, kind. "Gabi... Have you ever noticed how Troy is kinda a... 'one scene, one character' kinda' guy?"
Gabriella frowned. "I have no idea what that means."
"It means, he's... a different with each person he meets. I mean, to one person he might be 'Troy: the basketball guy,' to another he may just be... 'Troy: the gorgeous waiter' or 'Troy: Son/Nephew'... and he just... plays on that." She paused."Do you know how I know he really likes you?"
Gabriella waited a moment to respond, afraid someone might be listening into their conversation. "No..."
"I can tell because, with you, he's just Troy.No basketball, no chores, no... childhood memories," she laughed. "There's nothing to get in the way, you know? He's just... Troy."
Gabriella thought about this, and for a moment, she let herself just about believe it. "I'd like to think you were right," she said.
"I am. I always am," she said, egotistically, batting her eyelashes.
Gabriella laughed with a 'whatever' before turning back to her sandwiches, absorbing the new information she had been told as her organised mind began to sort and pick at it.
She suddenly realised.
Where the hell was Troy anyway?
––x––X––x––
Troy made his way through the back of the restaurant, clearing up, desperately trying to avoid having to go to lunch and see Gabriella.
He honestly had no idea what to do around her when Kingston was around, and he'd rather not give it a try at all. However, temptation became too much for him, as he crept round the corner and watched Gabriella interact with the other waitresses while he leant against the wall.
"She's interesting, isn't she? The disabled one."
Troy ground his teeth––a tell he wished he could get rid of––and balled his fists at the sound of that voice close behind him.
"Kingston. What part of back off don't you understand?"
Kingston didn't answer, he just smirked and watched Gabriella just as Troy had done a few moments before. "Calm down, Bolton. You get wound up to easily. For once in your life, forget the girl and give up while you're still ahead."
Troy's jaw locked. "Excuse me?"
Kingston just smiled. "Give up the girl, Bolton. We both know you have always had the most tragic taste in girls––"
"You also dated one of my girlfriends too, you know."
"Only one. I mean, you really don't know how to up 'em. And there's a reason that that hasn't happened since, Bolton..." He neared Troy a little, who stood his ground. "I could say because they were all munters, but no. The real reason is because, there haven't been anymore girlfriends, have there Troy?"
Troy stiffened at the mention of his first name.
"Get out of my face."
He indicated to Gabriella, complacently. "Oh don't worry. I plan on getting into hers instead."
Troy neared Adam this time.
"If you fucking dare..."
"Bolton, be reasonable. You're not even dating her. She's any man's game."
Troy could feel himself boiling over.
"No," he growled, lowly. "Gabriella is not any man's game.She's no one's game. Don't you dare––"
"Dare, what, Bolton? Dare fuck her, like I did your first and only girlfriend?"
Troy neared his face, Adam's mere three more inches of height not intimidating him at all.
"I don't want any of this, Kingston. I left Daisy behind the day I stopped talking to you. Neither of you mean anything to me. I am so over that night that I can't even be bothered to hit you... But, I won't hesitate to pummel you if you don't listen to me when I say..." He paused as he became inches from Kingston's face. "Leave. Gabriella. Alone."
For a moment, Kingston was silent as he sized up the threat. After a few moments, he let out a chuckle, but began to move, signifying his temporary dismissal. "Bolton. She's spazticated, fat and ugly, and she can't even walk in a straight line. You actually think I'd really sleep with a freak like that?" Kingston smirked as he chuckled. He past Troy and moved into the bright light of the kitchen, in Gabriella's general direction. "She probably doesn't even know how to put out anyway... But, I suppose it would be an interesting experiment..."
Troy watched as Kingston neared the table of waitresses––including Gabriella––and he panicked. He walked forward into the kitchen and grabbed Kingston by the arm.
"You know, on second thought," he said, before he swung his arm, his fist colliding with Kingston's nose. The noise lead to plenty of commotion, as Kingston staggered before sending him death glares and charging at him.
They fought as Gabriella watched on in horror. "Troy!" she exclaimed in horror as he shoved Kingston backward into a table. His more nimble basketball-player's body obviously giving him the advantage of agility and speed. She watched, cringing and grimacing as the two males kept throwing punches. "Emily," she urged. "Do something!"
Already on it, Paul and PJ began to help Emily haul Troy apart from Kingston, which––Gabriella observed––was a bad move. Troy tried desperately to hurl one last punch, throwing out his fist––only for it to hit Emily instead.
As at that moment, Mr Fulton walked into the kitchen, alarmed by the noise, where he saw two waiters holding Troy back from Kingston who was against the wall on the other side of the room, and Emily cradling her eye on the floor.
They all knew, by the look on Fulton's face, and by his track record, who Mr Fulton was going to blame.
"Bolton," he exclaimed. "Get some ice, then get in my office, now!" He went to walk out, then turned back. "And make sure to go the back way as not to alarm the guests!"
Gabriella rushed to Troy as soon as Fulton had left. His lip and eyebrow were split and bleeding, and his cheek and eyes were already discoloured.
"Oh, Troy," she sub-consciously cooed as she helped him sit down on a nearby chair. She noticed Kingston had already been helped up and taken outside by one of the smug golf pros. She looked at his cheek, already blue, and his eye, already black, and grimaced.
"Nice going, douchebag!" Emily exclaimed at she sat beside him, a bag of peas pressed to her eye. "You hit me."
Troy grimaced, then winced. "Andy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean––"
Emily rolled her good eye, still managing to be herself through the pain. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't think for one minute, just because you finally had the guts to hit Kingston again, that I forgive you. They're not getting away with this that easily. You're going to have to beg, Bolton."
Troy laughed, but then regretted it, as pain rippled through his side.
"Ouch," he breathed, his voice almost a squark.
Gabriella accepted the ice packs from Paul's offering hands, and quickly unbuttoned Troy's blue dress shirt, pressing it against his linen body-warmer clad ribs. Troy took the other and pressed it to his cheek.
"Dude," exclaimed Paul as he crouched beside him. "That rocked.Did you see his face? Oh man! Just wait till Danforth and Baylor hears about this!"
Troy kept his eyes shut as pain ripped through him, and partly because he was trying to hide the shame he was feeling. He wasn't a violent person, not at all. But now, what on earth would Gabriella think of him?
It doesn't matter what she thinks of me, his mind corrected. Because I can't let myself too close to her again. I can't drag her into this; this life of cruel judgements and discriminations.
He cringed through the pain of his body, and his thoughts.
No. He wouldn't do it.
"Why the hell did I ever think this was a good idea?" he groaned as more staff began to vacate the kitchen and get back to work.
Gabriella smiled where she knelt in front of him, completely oblivious that he had forgotten she was even there. "Because you're an idiot?"
Troy opened his eyes and laughed, again, regretting it as he winced a second later. He then mentally kicked himself for relaxing back into his usual kind character.
"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly, before he could stop himself.
Gabriella looked to see Emily had gone to the other side of the kitchen to talk to the other chefs, and then turned back to him.
"Why are you sorry?"
Troy took in a sharp breath. "If I was rude to you today...––Well, no, that's wrong. I was rude to you today."
Gabriella sat up on her knees, closing the gap between them, as she applied more pressure to his ribs. She said nothing.
"I––"
"I get it, Troy." He looked bemused. "I get that you aren't sure what you want from me yet. I get that," she deadpanned, trying to hide her confusion.
Troy frowned. "I don't want anything from you."
Gabriella looked into his face, hurt. "Then what are you doing?"
Troy didn't quite know to what she was referring to, and so, at first, wasn't sure how to answer.
He thought about that morning and how––before that phone call with Chad––he had been so sure of what the day would bring. "I don't know," he said simply. "I have no idea."
Suddenly a voice was yelling as it neared, and a second later Troy saw through his blurry eyes, his mother, in panic mode.
"Troy Alexander Bolton!" she scolded as she came to stand in front of him.
"Mom," he started. "What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here? Well, I could ask you the same question!"
Troy cringed at her loud, unforgiving voice.
Oh boy.
"I'm on my way to visit a friend, only to receive a phone call from Mr Fulton saying that you started a fight today in the middle of a fully-working, very expensive, country club kitchen! Oh, and not only that, but the fight was with the same person you got suspended from school for fighting with two years ago! Honestly. I know you two don't like each other, but there really is no excuse!"
Troy felt Gabriella move from holding the ice pack to his ribs, and he willed her silently to return. He tried to focus on his mother, but his thoughts kept returning to the night he had had the chance to tell his parents all about Adam and Daisy––but he hadn't.
"Now, this is getting ridiculous. You are coming home right now,and are grounded until further notice. That means, no basketball, no truck, nothing. Mr Fulton informs me you have also been suspended from work at this establishment."
Troy looked up at his mother, aghast. "What? No basketball, no truck, and no work? I'll go insane!"
His mother was in the process of collecting his things and helping him up, suddenly noticing Gabriella, and the way her son kept looking at her when she wasn't looking.
"Oh, and no visitors."
Troy groaned, and he pushed himself to a standing position and followed his mother to the door silently as she kept ranting, leaving a puzzled and worried Gabriella behind.
Shit, he cursed, inwardly, as realisation hit him. "What about Adam? Please tell me he's being punished too."
Lucille Bolton spoke curtly as she helped him into the car. "I can't speak for his parents. It's up to them how they punish him."
Troy's jaw dropped. "But they don't punish him for anything! They never have! You know that!"
Mrs Bolton said nothing as she climbed into the front seat.
"Mom. Please tell me Kingston got suspended too."
Mrs Bolton started the car, and pulled out. "You know the rules, Troy. The person who starts the fight takes the brunt of the charges."
Troy felt his chest constrict at this news. Not only would walking free make Kingston smugger than ever, but it would also mean something else very frightening.
Gabriella was going to be at work with him, alone.
"Mom, what about Gabriella?"
Mrs Bolton frowned. "What about her?"
"She's on her own," he murmured, defeated.
"Of course she's not on her own! There are plenty of other waiters and waitresses."
"But Mom, Emily got hurt, which means she most likely won't be at work either this week. Which means, Gabriella won't have any friends with her. Mom please––"
"Troy Bolton. Gabriella may be slightly more shy and fragile than the rest of us, but she is not made of glass! You are not and cannot have your suspension lifted. End of discussion."
Troy sagged in his seat, ignoring the pain that buzzed in his side, and throbbed in his face.
Gabriella. Please don't hate me for being callous with you today. Please don't hate me. I was just trying to protect you, but now I've left you even more vulnerable than ever. This is all my fault. Oh Gabriella, why the hell can't I be smart like you? You would never be this stupid. Look what I did.
See Brie, I always put my foot in my mouth. I told you so in the treehouse, but I bet just thought I was lying and so trusted me to look after you...
He thought of Kingston and his smug grinning face, and quickly then found himself thinking of sweet, innocent Gabriella. He felt like he was going to be sick.
I'm so sorry, Gabriella. Brie. I'm so sorry.