Disclaimer: I don't own any of it…. except for the VERY AU plot. And a few minor characters, like Vincent.
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Title: Emotions Unaccounted For
Author: Steph, a.k.a. cuppycakes
Summery: He was the ringleader at East High; she was the invisible bystander at West High. Their parents hated each other, their friends hated each other. They should hate each other. But instead they find a love that will change their lives… AU Troyella.
Author's Note: Hola!! This chapter is up in record time… well, I'm not really sure if I've posted faster before, but this is pretty damn fast… I mean, it's the 30th today and chapter 8 was up on Christmas Eve. So, I think I get a serious clap on the back… and I hear there's a snowstorm coming tonight and tomorrow, so I'll prolly have lots of time then, too. All of my friends are on vacation, so I have no one to hang with :(.
I'd also like to thank everyone for reviewing… 32 for chapter 8!! Wow, I really got a response for that one and the one before. Seriously, before chapter 7 the most reviews I had for any one chapter was 20! Amazing, you guys. I owe you. Anyways, that makes the total for this fic 188 reviews (WHOOT, WHOOT)!! If you could get it to 200, that would make my life… no joke. But that's not a threat or anything, cause I hate those. Also, I have more than 16,000 hits, which is wondrous in itself. I'll skip the rest of the bragging cause the dedication is SO LONG.
This chapter is dedicated to xxMavia Loverxx (the creator of Only the Best Troyella), as well as kathyt222 (the creator of Too Cute!). This is because they are the first to add me to a c2!! THANKS SO MUCH!!
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Chapter 9: Insecure and Unsure
I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shakes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay
True, it may seem like a stretch, but
It's thoughts like this that catch my troubled
Head when your away when I am missing you to death
- Such Great Heights, The Postal Service
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Troy didn't know why he woke up.
Blearily, he mumbled something incoherent to himself before opening one eye and then the other. He lay like that, on his back, for a moment, just staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Then, as he gained a sense of his surroundings, a few things registered.
Firstly, that it was nine o'clock.
Secondly, that he was tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets that were normally never wrapped around him when he woke up in the morning.
Then Troy sat up and looked around. Troy hadn't seen the need to clean his room before Gabriella came over – he hadn't expected she'd be in there. Now, however, he was seriously contemplating hitting himself over the head. Eyeing the clothes spread haphazardly across the floor (thrown there as he was trying to decided what to wear for his first date with Gabriella Montez), he winced. But then there were the condoms – some used and others still unused – scattered across the bed and floor from the night before.
And that was when he remembered.
Gabriella.
And the best damn night of his life.
She had been… amazing. Immeasurably better than those other two times. It was unlike anything else he had ever experienced, and for a second he actually could see why Sharpay had been so eager to share with Zeke. I mean, who wouldn't want to shout from the rooftops
Well, maybe shouting from his roof would be a little extreme, but whatever.
A lazy smile crossed Troy's face at the thought of all that… chemistry. I mean, he knew that people all had some sort of lust in their relationships, especially in marriage. Still, did everyone actually have that? Unfortunately, Troy's smile disappeared a second later as he remembered the other part of the night...
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Troy felt something shifting next to him. It wasn't particularly loud or discomforting; nevertheless the movement combined with the shuffling noise was enough to jerk Troy from his sleep. Lazily opening his eyes, he immediately realized it wasn't morning by the darkness of his room – a fact that was only verified as he caught sight of his alarm clock. It was almost four o'clock.
Hearing the rustling of blankets and yet more movement, Troy rolled over, blinking rapidly up at the shadowy figure standing at the foot of his bed. It was the slim, lithe figure that Troy would recognize immediately, especially after an entire night of exploring it.
Gabriella.
The night's events rushed back to him in a wild frenzy. It had been… amazing. Wonderful. The highlight of his life. He smiled even at the thought, a bit of his sleepiness ebbing away, although some still remained. After all, if the clock was anything to go by, he had only been asleep for three hours at the most.
Gabriella was faced away from him, wrapping the blanket that usually was spread across Troy's bed securely around herself. Troy didn't even register what he was doing as he grabbed around on the floor for his boxers, slipped them on, and stood up. The air was cold, slamming against him mercilessly. But he didn't care – all that mattered was that she stayed with him.
She couldn't leave.
Coming up from behind her, Troy smoothly wrapped his arms around her small wais, pulling her close to him. Gabriella gasped in shock – apparently she hadn't heard him coming up behind her. Troy ran his hands up and down her sides, leaning in and whispering questioningly, "Where are you going?"
Gabriella stiffened, and as if by instinct Troy nuzzled into her neck. Shakily, she murmured, "Home."
"Why?" he asked, his voice slightly muffled by her skin.
The question seemed to stump her. While he waited for an answer, Troy began exploring her neck and collarbone softly with little butterfly kisses. Shivering at his touch, Gabriella finally said, "It's a one night stand."
"It doesn't have to be."
"It doesn't?" her voice sounded uncertain, but Troy could sense hope in her tone as well. His spirits lifted slightly. She wanted it to mean more, too.
"No. And you don't have to leave. Stay," kissing his way back up to her ear, Troy added, "Please?"
Troy Bolton had never said please in his life. And that was not even an exaggeration. Yet here he was, pleading for Gabriella Montez, of all people, to stay with him.
If someone had asked Troy two years previous about where he would be on Saturday July 19, 2007, he never would've guessed this. The fact that no one else would've guessed it either didn't help placate him much.
She was melting into him; Troy could feel her relaxing into his body, nestling against him perfectly. He smiled softly down at her – not that she could see it, or anything, which Troy actually preferred. The smile only widened as Gabriella whispered so softly that it was barely audible, "Okay."
Troy exhaled deeply. Okay.
'Okay' was good.
'Okay' was a start.
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She couldn't leave.
The thought invaded Troy's brain. Standing up in a flash, he slipped on the nearest pair of jeans before running down the stairs two at a time. She couldn't leave.
Almost out of habit, Troy slowed as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Carefully entering the living room where he had first kissed Gabriella, Troy looked around, examining the discarded clothing on the floor. And then there she was, standing in the middle of all of the mess in only her underwear and bra. On the floor, the blanket that she had wrapped around herself the night before was lying in a puddle at her feet. Troy wondered why it wasn't wrapped around her until he noticed she was in the process of slipping on her jeans.
She didn't see that he was in the room with her.
With this in mind, Troy took the moment to examine her. Gabriella was still as beautiful as ever, despite her messy hair and wrinkled jeans. As her head tilted upwards – though her eyes remained glued to her jeans, he could see the smudged makeup that looked still as alluring as it had the night before. Next to her on the couch were her keys, jacket, and clutch – he guessed that she had retrieved them from the kitchen before putting her clothes on. Troy made himself stop analyzing her and instead focus on the big picture.
She was leaving and he had to stop her.
Just thinking these thoughts made panic hit Troy like it had never hit him before. He had never been afraid like this before. Because he wanted Gabriella. He wanted her to stay, and she was the only girl that would ever consider leaving. So he said yet another word that he had never uttered to anyone in his life.
"I'm sorry."
She looked up, surprise and guilt etched on her face. Troy suddenly realized, with a pang of hurt that was more painful than he had expected it to be, that she had intended to make a clean getaway. She didn't want to see him. Still crouched over despite the fact her jeans were securely fastened, Gabriella noticeably hesitated before standing erect, remained stock still like a dear caught in the headlights. She blushed, Troy assumed this was because she still wasn't wearing a shirt, despite the fact he had seen it all the night before.
He wanted a few seconds for a response, but it didn't come.
"That wasn't supposed to happen," Troy said, his voice kept carefully neutral. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, and was very aware at that moment of how vulnerable he was. But he wouldn't let any of the insecurity leak into his voice – maybe desperation would help him plead his case to Gabriella, but that wasn't the way he did things. That wasn't the way he knew. Troy knew how to hide his feelings. Anyways, the conversation was awkward enough as it was. He didn't need to make it any more uncomfortable.
Gabriella blinked, directing her gaze towards him. Looking anywhere but at his eyes, she said in this vague sort of trance-like voice, "I've never done that before."
It was safe to say that Troy hadn't expected that.
"Gabi," Troy choked out after a moment of disbelief, not quite sure how to finish, "I'm pretty sure you've had sex before."
Frowning in a mix of surprise and confusion, Gabriella's face turned even redder as she elaborated, "No, I mean I've never had spontaneous sex, you know? I'm not really sure what to do." She hesitated before asking suddenly, "Have you?"
"Yes."
She didn't seem surprise, but he could tell she was disappointed all the same. Still – looking a bit afraid of what the answer would be – Gabriella asked the next question, just like he knew she would, "Did you… like it?"
"Only with you," Troy told her truthfully.
Gabriella shifted awkwardly, saying uncertainly, "Oh."
Troy watched her, a bit surprised when she spoke again. Only this time it was to ask, "Hey, do you mind if I borrow a sweatshirt or something? I don't really want to walk into my house with the same stuff I wore yesterday."
"Yeah," Troy answered, a bit too quickly. He told her to wait one second and returned to his room – making sure not to go to fast – and picked out a plain gray sweatshirt. It was probably one of the only ones he had that didn't say anything East High on it. He vaguely wished it was clean – he had worn it just the day before – but that couldn't be helped.
She had already put her shirt on when Troy had come back down, and she quickly slipped the sweatshirt over her head. It was a couple of sizes too big, but Troy knew she liked her sweatshirts that way. Wrapping her arms around herself, she murmured, "Thanks, Troy."
Troy nodded, and then asked the question he had been dying to get an answer to ever since he had woken up that morning, "So, are you going to avoid me now? Pretend like we've never met? Throw something?"
Smiling thinly, she told him, "I was going to go for option D."
"All of the above?"
"No, acting like it never happened," Gabriella corrected him, her smile widening, though just by a fraction.
"Oh," Troy hesitated before venturing uncertainly, "does that mean we're back to being friends?"
He waited for her reply, shifting impatiently but not uttering even one complaint.
"What do you want?" she asked eventually.
"Well, it's your choice, but I was kind of hoping for the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing," Troy said in almost complete apathy, shrugging in the hopes that doing so would lessen the enormity of what he was saying.
Silence.
Gabriella blinked rapidly in poorly disguised shock. Shaking her head, she repeated confusedly, "Boyfriend… girlfriend?"
"Yeah."
"Are you asking me out?"
"Yeah, I guess I am," Troy affirmed, his voice still devoid of all the emotion that was pouring out of his eyes.
"Why?"
"You're interesting," Troy said in a carefully calculated voice, noting that this seemed to be his answer for a lot of things regarding Gabriella. He took several steps closer to her, so that their lips were inches apart. He placed one hand on the small of her back, and the other on her neck, making Gabriella shiver. Troy leaned forward, making a trail of kisses starting at her jaw and ending at her ear. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath and releasing it as she felt his mouth caressing the sensitive crevice just under her ear. Softly he murmured into her skin, "It's more that sex, Gabi."
And, both of them knew, that statement said much more than Troy could put into plain words.
They stood like that for a long time, Gabriella unconsciously leaning into Troy's body. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady. Neither of them was sure how much time had past, but suddenly Troy felt Gabriella shift. And then she was untangling herself from him gently, a clearly troubled look on her face.
"I-I've got to go," Gabriella stuttered nervously, out of breath. "Uh, can I call you later? I need to think a bit, if you know what I mean."
"Think," Troy repeated slowly. He didn't get it, but that was okay. He'd wait. "Yeah, sure. Call – we can meet or… whatever."
"Okay," she whispered, and Troy watched her leave, taking her keys and clutch with her.
It was only after her car had pulled out of the driveway that Troy discovered that Gabriella had forgotten her jacket.
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Zeke Baylor wasn't like anyone else. Everyone agreed on it – he wasn't intimidating like Troy, or oblivious like Jason. He didn't party like Chad or dance like Ryan. Zeke wasn't uptight or unbelievably smart or some sort of prodigy. He just played basketball. And baked. He loved to bake. Zeke knew he could be a really good basketball player, if he wanted to work hard enough. But Zeke didn't want to be a basketball player.
He wanted to be a chef.
Zeke was lucky. He knew he was.
People envied him – they wanted his pressure-free life, outgoing personality, and popularity. Sure, Chad was the center of attention, and Troy pulled all of the strings, but Zeke just rolled with it. His rise to popularity seemed effortless. He was on varsity basketball without the stress of being the coach's son, and his friends didn't shun him just because he loved baking.
Yes, life was good.
There was only one role that Zeke had to take on. He was the peacekeeper. He'd be the one trying to break up fights between West High and East High. Troy Bolton would just walk away or show Vincent Montez who was the boss (if it called for that), and the girls would scream or cry or whatever. All of the other guys just punched whoever was within their reach. Zeke was the one who tried to get everything in order.
Sometimes he wondered what it would be like to get into a fight, or go to a club and have a one night stand. Sometimes he had the strongest urge to just punch someone, or to go and do something drastic, like dye his hair blue. But he never did.
Because, you know, he was Zeke Baylor.
Sure, Zeke had felt this ill-natured 'urges' before. However, he had never been so compelled to follow out such an urge as he was at that particular moment. And, seeing as Chad was the one he really was tempted to punch, it was being increasingly difficult to resist. After all, it was only Chad.
"Dude, you really fucked up this time."
Zeke visibly tensed at Chad's comment, knowing exactly what he was directing it to. Chad, however, remained oblivious, as always. So Zeke knew better to be surprised when Chad just continued, "I just want you to know that I'm behind you all the way. You got an idea on how to drop her?"
"I'm not planning on breaking up with her, Chad," Zeke hissed. Well, Zeke Baylor wasn't really the hissing type. But if he did hiss, he would've been at that moment. As it was, Zeke was pretty sure his voice had a teensy, weensy bit of hissing in it… not enough that Chad noticed, though.
But, then again, Chad Danforth didn't notice much.
It wasn't that he was stupid, really. He just, well, tended to not notice things. And, you know, say some dumb and/or rude stuff. And be tactless. But he was definitely smart… kind of. In his own way.
Okay, so maybe it was because he was stupid.
"Aw, come on, man," Chad said, rolling his eyes. "You know Evans is a complete bitch – and fucking insane, too. Has she ever dragged you along to go shopping with her? It's hell. And you know the only person she isn't bitchy to is Troy Bolton, and you're no Troy Bolton."
This was true.
Zeke Baylor may have been a good chef, he may have been a good basketball player, and he may have been envied for his carefree life.
But he was no Troy Bolton.
Troy Bolton was intimidating, ruthless, manipulative, and everything in between. Zeke remembered the time when Troy broke Vincent Montez's nose one day when Montez tried to insinuate Sharpay was a whore. And he ruptured Sean Carson's spleen when Sean had bragged about how Troy didn't have what it took to stand up to West High (which Sean wrongly assumed because of Troy's habit to let Chad lead East High in it's hating of West High).
But there were other things, too. He had kicked numerous cheerleaders off the squad (thanks to help from Raleigh, the captain) for being too loud, distracting, or stalkerish around him… and a few just because he felt like it, Zeke suspected. He had gotten a few kids expelled, too – mostly for not respecting Troy's authority. Whether noticing or not, Troy Bolton was a mastermind, a genius at work.
Girls wanted to be with him, and so they'd brag about having sex or fooling around with the Troy Bolton. Any girl who lied about what they had done, however, would find themselves in particularly sticky situations, whether it being with their parents or the school. The worst one was definitely Katarina Hayes. Troy discovered she had bragged about having sex with him (when they hadn't done anything whatsoever), and a week later she was caught in a drug bust, expelled, and sent to rehab.
Then again, Zoey Lambert could've been the worst, too. She was the one that had said she and Troy were dating after he had a quick make-out session with her. Last thing Zeke had heard of Zoey, she was at a convent where girls were 'reformed' because her parents were sent by mail several pictures of her. Pictures that Zeke knew for a fact one of Zoey's older boyfriends had taken of her, and then willingly handed over to Troy.
The point was, Troy wasn't the nicest guy.
In fact, the only person he even remotely could stand was Sharpay Evans.
Why, no one knew.
Troy could be an apathetic, cruel, and manipulative jerk to everyone else, but to Sharpay he was mildly nice. At least, he wasn't completely bitchy. And that was definitely an improvement, no matter how small.
Zeke hated it. He hated how Troy and Sharpay had that relationship, a relation ship he longed for with her. He loved her, for God's sake. Troy barely acknowledged her, even on one of his good days.
It was screwed up.
His anger doubling at the mention of Troy and Sharpay's friendship and attitudes towards each other, Zeke clenched his fists and said as evenly as he could, "I really like Sharpay, okay? So lay off."
Chad's eyes widened. Shocked, all he could say was, "Whoa, you serious?"
Zeke just scowled – a rare occurrence indeed – and stood up. His chair fell to the ground, but he didn't even acknowledge it. Storming out of Chad's house, he failed to realize that he had left his basketball bag and water bottle inside until he was already backing out of the Danforth's driveway. And by then he was too stubborn to go back inside.
"Hey," Zeke said as cheerily as he could.
Pause.
"Zeke, hun, you okay? You sound… angry," Sharpay said on the other line, sounding confused.
Zeke shook his head rapidly, as if to shake out all of his anger, before replying, "I'm fine. What's up with you?"
Apparently his voice was sufficiently better, because Sharpay instantly perked up and told him excitedly, "A bunch of people are coming over – we're having a barbecue by the pool. Going out for lunch every Saturday is getting pretty old, you know? Anyways, some people are already here, and it should last until night. You have anything going on for the rest of the day? I mean, I know you were going over to Chad's to shoot some hoops or whatever, but if you're done come on over!"
Zeke checked the clock. Three o'clock. He replied, "Sure that works. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. That okay?"
"Great," Sharpay squealed, and Zeke smiled. He loved making her happy. "Oh, but don't bother bringing a swimsuit. I saw a couple when I was shopping yesterday and just had to buy them for you. You'll love them, trust me."
"Ten minutes, then," Zeke corrected.
He and Sharpay said their good-byes. Hanging up, Zeke eagerly turned left and made his way to Sharpay's house.
Ten minutes later, he was standing in front of her front door. Knocking uncertainly – the gigantic square-footage and over-all luxuriousness of the Evans' mansion was daunting, to say the least.
A butler opened the door, and stiffly led Zeke to some sort of TV room, where Sharpay was lying on a vibrant red couch sort of thing and Troy was sitting across from her in a matching chair. Troy's iPod was docked on Sharpay's iHome, and DMB's Jimi Thing was blaring loudly out of the speakers.
Zeke's happiness faded slightly as he caught sight of the second occupant of the room, who looked like he hadn't slept at all the night before. Zeke hadn't thought Troy would be there.
Sharpay looked up, smiling widely at Zeke, "Great, you're here! Nate was here, but he had to go and get Alejandro, so it's just us three. Matt and Alex are on their way. Ryan and Ral will be here soon, too."
"Awesome!" Zeke said, happy again. So what if Troy was there? He and Shar could still have fun.
Or not.
As soon as Sharpay had dragged Zeke over to the couch, sitting him down in just the right place so that she could lay down with her head on his lap (he certainly didn't complain about that), her gaze turned to Troy. Frowning and examining him, she pursed her lips and asked, "So, are you going to tell me what's up?"
"Shar…" Troy said warningly.
Normally anyone else would shut up immediately, if they valued the current state of their lives. But Sharpay wasn't just anyone else. She just continued, "Seriously. You look way different. Something happened."
Troy shut his eyes, leaning back. If Zeke didn't know better, he'd say Troy had fallen asleep. Apparently, Sharpay knew better, too. She just started listing off everything that was different about him.
"You have messed up hair, chapped lips…" She recited. Troy opened his eyes and stared at her, clearly irritated. Zeke was mildly impressed – he hadn't seen Troy this… open before. Although, for a regular person he wasn't being open in the least. Sharpay didn't seem to care, she just continued her list.
"…Bags under your eyes… your eyes–" Sharpay gasped, clearly noticing something Zeke didn't, before announcing triumphantly, "Oh my God. You have sex eyes! That's it!"
She sat up, now on the edge of her seat, as if discovering this was a major feat.
Zeke eyed her uncertainly, wondering if she was high or something.
Troy sighed wearily, giving Sharpay a plainly tired look before replying, "Shar, I have no idea what in the hell your talking about."
"Oh. My. God. You so do! Troy Bolton, you had sex last night!"
Zeke blinked. He was starting to wonder if some of what Chad had said was true. I mean, Sharpay certainly sounded crazy at that particular moment in time.
This thought promptly flew away when Troy shrugged noncommittally. If it were anyone but Troy Bolton, this wouldn't mean much. But it was him, and in Troy Bolton's twisted-sort-of-language, a shrug was sort of his way of confirming information. He never could just do things the easy way…
Anyways, the point was, Sharpay was right.
It took all of Zeke's willpower to stop his jaw from dropping to the ground. Troy had had sex the night before. Then, of course, Zeke's thoughts turned to wondering how the hell Sharpay had known. She had spent all of the previous night with Zeke himself, first at a house party down the street and then in her bed. As far as he knew, Sharpay hadn't spoken to Troy that entire night, or anytime during the day Saturday.
What was up with that?
Sharpay grinned widely – not unlike an insane person would – and boasted, "I knew it! There was something about you – and it was the sex eyes! So, who was it, huh? Not one of the Jennifers, right?" She wrinkled her nose in disgust, "Better not have been Marissa, either. Or any cheerleader, for that matter. They're all sluts – well, except for Claire, and Emily… Anyways, I'm getting off topic. Who was it?"
Zeke saw Troy frown, as if trying to remember. Finally he told her, "Stacey Willard."
Stacey Willard wasn't a cheerleader. She played volleyball, and was sort of nice. Incredibly sexy, too. In fact, she looked even more like a stereotypical cheerleader than some of the actual cheerleaders at East High. She just, you know, wasn't one. For the purposes Troy was referring to, however, (namely, sex) Stacey Willard was the equivalent of any East High cheerleader.
Sharpay wilted as soon as the name reached her ears, though Zeke had no idea why. I mean, this was Troy Bolton, after all. It wasn't like he'd ever sleep with Kelsi Neilson or Martha Cox or someone like that. It made sense that he'd sleep with a girl like Stacey – a bimbo with a great body and nonexistent brain.
Sighing dejectly, Sharpay said, "Oh, so that means it was just a one night thing."
"Why wouldn't it be?" Troy asked, his voice like steel.
Sharpay pursed her lips, snapping, "Oh, come on, Troy. This is me you're talking to! Can't you just pick someone that'll make you, you know…"
She trailed off. Zeke stood there, stunned. He had never seen anyone talk to Troy like that – hell, if anyone said anything even close to what Sharpay had said, they would've been down on the ground with a broken nose. Either that or they'd end up being shunned by the school.
Zeke tensed, ready to protect his girlfriend – Troy was too much of a gentleman to hit a girl, but there was no telling what verbal assaults would be thrown her way – but never ended up needing to. Troy just looked her in the eye and said, "Yeah, I know."
Both Zeke and Sharpay could hear the two words he left out – 'fuck off'. Sighing, Sharpay bit her lip in disappointment before perking up a moment later, saying, "Oh, Troy, by the way, I got you a few swimsuits. They're Ralph Lauren, Tommy Hilfiger, and Marc Jacobs. Go and put one on – the Tommy one, I think – and then we can go swimming. Zeke, I bought a couple for you, too, like I said. They're all in my room."
"Uh, cool, Sharpay. Thanks. You didn't have to do that for us," Zeke said, and Troy mentally shook his head at the awkwardness in Zeke's voice. Sharpay, Zeke now noticed, was already in a bright metallic purple bikini with a matching cover up.
Rolling her eyes, Sharpay said, "Oh, please, you know this is my pastime, Zeke. I like doing stuff like this." She waved her arms, gesturing for them to go away, as she added, "Now go already. Ry and Ral should be here any second now."
"Yeah," Troy said, nodding and looking at Zeke with blank eyes.
Zeke frowned. He looked around, trying not to look too confused. He had been in Sharpay's room a couple days in a row, but still had no idea how to get to it by himself. The Evans' mansion was big. Seeming to know what the problem was, Troy stood up and led the way. Gratefully getting up, Zeke followed him through the multiple rooms before entering Sharpay's.
"Hey, Troy," Zeke asked awkwardly as Troy made his way over to Sharpay's bed, where two labeled shopping bags sat, "how did you know the way to Sharpay's room?"
Troy shrugged, picking up the Ralph Lauren bag with his name clearly written on it in permanent marker. Evenly he said, "I come here a lot."
"Oh."
Troy opened his bag, and hastily Zeke picked up his, rifling through it. He stared in shock at the two swimsuits folded neatly inside. The price tags had been removed before they were washed, but he could still tell that the swimsuits weren't Wal-Mart quality. Or even Abercrombie and Fitch. He eyed the two bathing suits. One was blue with two white strips on each side, and the other was Nantucket red with the Ralph Lauren symbol stitched onto one pocket. Which one should he put on?
"The blue one."
Zeke jumped, his gaze snapping from the swimsuits to Troy's placid face. Seeing the alarm in Zeke's features, Troy elaborated with impatience evident in his voice and features, "It's a test. You're supposed to put on the blue one."
Troy then proceeded to walk into Sharpay's bathroom and slip on the green swimsuit Sharpay had given him. Zeke didn't dare question his basketball captain, and hastily put on the blue swimsuit before Troy was finished and came out.
He did come out, just a few seconds after Zeke was ready. Not even acknowledging his fellow teammate and "friend", Troy just put his pants into the bag with the other two swimsuits of his and walked out. Zeke, noticing Troy still had his tee shirt on, quickly grabbed his and stuffed his shorts inside the shopping bag with his name on it. Troy was already on his way out of Sharpay's door, and Zeke had to jog to catch up.
They didn't speak for the entire way to the pool area – Troy because he had nothing to say, and Zeke because he was too busy trying to memorize the way from Sharpay's room to the backdoor (and also because he was too nervous to address Troy).
Only when Troy was reaching out to open the sliding glass door leading out to the pool did Zeke work up the gumption to ask, "What's the point of the test?"
Troy didn't even bother to look at Zeke as he said indifferently, "You don't need to know."
Zeke wanted to ask more, but then they were within hearing range of Sharpay, Ryan, and Raleigh (who had apparently just arrived), and his nerves took over again.
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Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter… I'm not sure if this is what you all are expecting, but it's the way the story is headed. Zeke reveals a lot about Troy's not-so-nice nature, especially towards girls that lie about sleeping with him. Hey, with his attitude he can't be THAT good of a guy, can he? Keep in mind, however, that he only does it to people that have seriously lied... sorry, that's me defending Troy a bit. Hey, at least he's not taking lunch money! That's way to cliche.
Also, I've written up a rough outline and concluded that this fic should be ABOUT 30 to 35 chapters, although this is subject to change… and it probably will. In addition, I can guarantee AT LEAST one sequel (that I'm itching to write) and most likely another one as well. I'm heavily considering making at least one Sharpay-centric, for reasons that will come into play later.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!! Thanks for reading and please review!!
-Steph