A/N: I just have to say, thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you for all the support that I got in the last reviews after the whole situation. That was really amazing and I am touched. I'm happy to say that it was taken care of, and I thank you to the author if you are reading this that you did take care of it. I understand it's difficult to come up with new ideas, trust me, I've hit my writer's blocks a lot. But, if you push through it, you can make something great. Anyways, the support I received was unbelievable, and I thank everyone for that. So thanks for being there for me. And if anyone sees anything else out there, please let me know. I'm glad you guys have my back! :)
And I hope you guys like this chapter. It's short, but hopefully you'll like it just the same. It's leading up to the next chapter. So anyways, thanks for reading and your reviews! You guys are incredible!
There were four things Troy Bolton hated in his life.
Tomatoes. Were they a fruit or a vegetable? Did it even matter one way or the other? And the taste, he despised the taste of tomatoes. It was like eating your own puke. It was disgusting and he couldn't stand them.
The Chicago Bulls. He hated them. With a burning passion. His eyes couldn't stand to watch them play. He was a Laker's fan to the end, but the Bulls had so much of a deeper meaning. He hated their logo, their coach, but most of all, he hated their manager. He hated the dark brown hair, the way his face was shaped so smooth and perfectly. Troy hated his tan skin that glowed in a way that made him look holy. Hate spilled from Troy every time he saw them him on TV in an interview, his deep voice that sounded like he knew exactly what he was doing. It was a dream to burn the money that man had earned in his lifetime. Maybe then he would get a taste of his own medicine. He hated him.
The biggest hate though, was needles. Of course he did. After watching his mother try to sneak around to stick them into her arms, it was only natural that Troy would want to purge after just getting a glint of even a sewing needle. Their pointed ends were more like atomic bombs in Troy's mind. He couldn't stand staring at the way their silver sides glinted in the light so innocently. There was nothing innocent about needles. All they caused were black gushes of blood that ran down your arms. They caused pain. A million of them had pierced Troy's heart and left it to shrivel into a heap of nothing. No beat, no emotion. They had stolen his life away completely, never to give it back.
And the fourth thing he hated? The Frisco Rehabilitation Center.
His aching butt beneath his slightly ripped light denim jeans sat uncomfortably in the disgusting oak colored plastic wooden chair. Troy's snow white sweatshirt and his black t-shirt beneath it made this bronze skin look like he stepped out of a Hawaiian photo shoot. The dark caramel colored hair was hidden beneath a black knit beanie, though his bangs stuck out from the hat in the front along with tiny strands of hair towards the back. The muscular basketball arms were folded as he stared down at the bright white paper sitting on the table in the dark gray room.
The room itself gave Troy the creeps. There was a window above the double sized bed that was draped in a hideous maroon color. Snow was twirling from the heavens in the black night outside as his cyan eyes glanced over to the narrow midnight doorway that led to a too white bathroom. The room was almost the same temperature as outside, making Troy's strong arms wrap around his body tighter, feeling the soft cotton press against his skin. And the smell. It had a scent of a retirement home, mixed with the bleeding waft from a hospital. It made him want to regurgitate.
"So, if you just want to sign right there." The perfectly manicured nail pointed towards the lifesaving sheet as Troy's light eyes glanced down at it. Sydney's hair was pulled up in an almost homecoming do along with her black dress that Troy knew wouldn't stay on her body for very long after she went to dinner with the boyfriend.
Troy's heavy head remained locked on the innocent sheet of paper as he wouldn't dare let his eyes wander further. Instead, he could hear the light tap of boney fingers that matched the color of the paper. His built calves tensed at the nervous habit as he heard a small, halfhearted chuckle fill the empty cracks of the room. "Of course I'll sign."
The horse voice sounded as though it hadn't been used in twelve years. The cerulean blue eyes that were tinting towards a bright white finally forced themselves to look up when they couldn't take the pressure of the other pair looming over him. Her stick figure hand vibrated violently with her arm as Troy could see the evident sea blue veins popped out of her forearm. His body cringed in disgust as he noted the sick yellow, green bruises that still hadn't properly heeled from the last time the deed was completed. He could almost feel the vomit course through his throat just at the sight, but did his best to repress it. The bones stuck out of her shoulders, even though she had a white shirt on her thin body. But it was her face that made what was left of Troy's heart smash by a dump truck. His mother's cheek bones jutted out from her face in a Holocaust way. Hair thin hair was a sun burnt brown, but was so stringy and thin it probably couldn't be pulled up into a ponytail. His bottom lip almost started trembling as he stared into her now completely white eyes. At one point, he could have looked at them and they would be identical to his deep cerulean blue. But now? They were identical to his when he was angry or upset. Colorless and emotionless. Kind of the way they were slowly shading to now.
Troy reached up to run his working hands though his brown hair before he realized he was still wearing his black knit beanie. A disappointed sigh slid through his thin lips as he watched the pale hand finish signing with the red pen, the same color as blood. A shiver spread through Troy's nerve endings as Sydney smiled her all too sweet smile and grabbed both the writing utensil and the form back to open her purse also. "Thanks Lucille."
Lucille Bolton's lips curve upward in an attempt of a smile, but it looked too tired. "Of course." She responded before her eyes landed back on her son's, making Troy shift in his chair uncomfortably again.
It wasn't that he didn't like his mother. The exact opposite really. He loved her. Well, close enough to love as his pile of mush called his heart could get to. The thing he couldn't stand was the thought of her shooting up again. Or with her messed up ex-boyfriend that got her on the drug to begin with.
Sydney's orbs ping ponged between the mother and son before she stood up slowly and pointed her perfect thumb towards the door. "I'll leave you two alone. Troy, meet me in the lobby when you're done."
Troy grunted in response as he could almost hear her eyes roll. The black heels poked into the matted down carpet before Troy heard the door creek open, then gently close behind her. Lucille let out a sigh, almost letting her guard down as soon as Sydney left as she leaned forward across the table, as though she was trying to get closer to her son. The skin on her face tightened as she attempted a smile again. "I'm so glad you came. I miss you."
A sincere grin tugged at Troy's lips as he finally removed his arms from the crossed position they were in and leaned forward as well. The room suddenly didn't feel as icy as the air became just a smudge thinner than before. "I know." He whispered before letting his head drop to look at the table.
"Basketball's good?" She asked, truly wondering as Troy's heavy head nodded.
"Yeah… yeah it's great."
A genuine smile took over her lips again. "And school? How are your friends?"
His stomach back flipped as the room increased in temperature about four degrees. "They're great." He responds in a somewhat higher voice that normal, thinking about one certain new friend that he couldn't get off his mind.
Troy had barely talked to Gabriella all day, since today Mr. Garble had decided that he was actually going to teach the class instead of let them work on their projects. His stomach dropped at the thought of the Evan's party tonight though. She told him that she wasn't coming. How could she not? It was the party of the year. He wanted her to come! Even if he couldn't actually be with her, just being able to look at her and actually talk to her was enough to satisfy his cravings. In truth, all week he hadn't had the urge to attempt to find salvation in sex. All week, he felt, dare he say it, normal? She had to come. Even if he was going to kidnap both her and her sister, he couldn't stand her not coming. He needed her to be there. More that he even knew.
But he pulled himself back into reality and away from the brown haired beauty to look at his mother again. Focus on here and now. Not Gabriella.
"So, I got a call from Charlie yesterday."
Suddenly all Troy wanted now was to think about Gabriella.
His face shadowed in a hard way as his jaw became set. The bright white teeth behind his thin lips clenched as poison seeped through every pore of his body. His knuckles cracked as his angry fist balled. The cerulean blue eyes suddenly dropped all of their color and flashed to a white spotlight. They were now whiter than his mothers, to the point were almost all you could see was his black pupil. "What?" He seethed between his teeth. "You're not supposed to talk to him."
Lucille sighed sadly, but was on guard now that Troy was fuming. What the hell was going on? "He checked into the center in Denver. He's gonna turn things around and he wanted support."
Troy felt like chucking the chair he was sitting in towards the wall. He wanted to pick up a gun and run to Denver to shoot this guy and end all of Troy's pain. Anger beat through his body like it was his heart as his face burned red hot. If someone touched him, they would probably be burnt from his rage. "Like hell he is!" He exclaimed fuming as he shot up from the table and pushed it a little with his muscular arms. Mrs. Bolton gazed up at him sadly, for she knew his anger.
"Troy…" His mom tried to coax.
"No Mom, he fucking forced you in here! He gave you the shit to begin with!" Troy yelled venomously and pointing in all different directions. Rage coursed through his veins just picturing the sick twisted guy.
"He's turning it around just like I am." Lucille defended weakly. "I have faith."
"AND I HAVE THE URGE TO HUNT THIS GUY DOWN!" Troy bellowed before kicking the plastic chair angrily with his foot. Bad idea. Pain shot through his leg as he yelped. He slammed his eyes shut as he bit his lip to try and kill the sensation.
"You have a temper just like your father." His mother dangerously said as Troy's eyes ripped open. Any traces of color ever returning had completely left as his lips curled in an angry snarl. It was worse than when she had brought up Charlie. Never, ever did you mention Jack Bolton in Troy Bolton's presence. Never.
"There's nothing about that bastard that's like me." He seethed as the two white eyes stared into each other. Venom pulsated through his veins as his mom's shaking hand reached out to grab Troy's to calm him down. A cold sensation brushed his skin as hers touched his.
"Troy, just calm down ok?" She begged hopefully but Troy's hand ripped away from the table.
"I have somewhere to be." He hissed angrily before pulling the beanie down over his dark hair even more. The bright white lights shot to his mother again before grabbing the cold door handle. "I'll see ya in two weeks."
Mrs. Bolton stared at him longingly before Troy's valley hands yanked the door open and walked into the deserted hallway before slamming the door shut.
This was torture.
No, it was worse than torture. It was more like Chinese water torture. Gas mask torture. Being tied to a stretcher and ripping one's body in half torture. Her soft body laid motionless on the couch as she stared blankly at the TV. Her slender legs were covered in white cotton sweat pants four sizes too big for her. A tight black beater stuck to her body like glue as her hair was for once straight from school that day as it draped down over her lazy body. On the floor beneath her was a tiny version of her, letting the graphite pencil work it's magic on the flimsy white paper that was propped on an access spiral. "You look sad."
The deep chocolate eyes slowly moved from the boring show she was watching and looked at her sister. She wasn't sad, she was irritated. Irritated that right now, Troy Bolton was probably sitting on a chair lift with his arm wrapped around some cheerleader's body, forgetting Gabriella's name completely. Not that she didn't love Ari, but come on! Her mother was out more than she was. Couldn't she just give Gabriella one night? One important night? One night when she could laugh with Troy Bolton? "I'm not sad." Gabriella defended uselessly.
Ari's hand spun the sheet she was drawing on as she glanced up to her older sister's body. "Yes you are. You haven't said anything in like, ten minutes," she pointed out with her light eyes dancing with Gabriella's dark ones. "Are you mad that you don't get to spend any time with Chad tonight?
The dark eyes rolled in annoyance, but couldn't help her heart that fluttered at the sound of her mad that she didn't get to spend time with someone. After lying on the couch babysitting, it finally sunk in that maybe Gabriella might, possibly have feelings for Troy Bolton. It was a small chance, the size of a tick really. Oh hell, who was she kidding? "Ari, I don't like Chad!"
Ari shook her small head playfully as her black hair whipped across her shoulders. "I think you do, and that's why I think you're so sad."
"I'm fine ok? And I do not like Chad. He's just a friend." Gabriella responded bitterly before she finally sat up from her position on the couch and felt the blood vessels in her legs begin to work again. It felt as though a thousand needles stuck into them, but just from the lack of circulation. Slowly, she put pressure on her feet and came to a full standing position. "You want ice cream? I'm getting some."
"Yeah!" The eight year old jumped up excitedly from her spot on the floor and sprinted towards the kitchen before Gabriella could even take a breath. The dark orbs glanced down to see that Ari's drawing of a sleepy black and white kitten was left forgotten. It was almost identical to a real cat, and she didn't even have anything posed for her. That was talent.
By the time Gabriella had grazed into the kitchen, Ari already had a bowl out and the ice cream scooper. She was reaching for the small, silver balled object that was sitting perfectly in one of the utensil's bin. The shadows from the light fixtures above played on her face as she forcedly opened the red ice cream cover and scoop the vanilla out. Gabriella tilted her curious head to the side to notice how much older her little sister looked in this lighting. She was going to be identical to their mother when she grew up, which would be a plus for her. Guys would be dropping at her feet left and right. But the protective side of Gabriella suddenly showed through. Maybe she didn't want that. "You want sprinkles?"
Ari's mysterious face shot up in delight as she nodded profusely. "And chocolate sauce!"
Gabriella couldn't help but giggle a little at Ari's excitement for life. The dark eyes glanced at the clock to see that it was 8:11 PM. Even though right now, Troy probably had his tongue stuck down someone else's throat, if there was anywhere else she could be, it was with her little sister. She stops scooping and reaches for the chocolate sauce that Gabriella set down on the table moments ago. "So… are there any boys in your life?"
Ari's hand froze after shaking the brown bottle. Her light eyes grew wide and her face flooded in a crush. Gabriella knew that at eight years old, there was no way she had a boyfriend. But she could remember having an eight year old crush also.
"No…" Ari replied sadly before squirting the liquid onto her vanilla ice cream.
Gabriella could tell that there was more to the story. If Ari could harass her, she could most certainly harass Ari. "There aren't any boys that you like?" The oldest asked mockingly as she grabbed the red frozen box herself.
The small head shook furiously before grabbing the sprinkles off the table as well. "Nope. Boys have cooties." She responded, though Gabriella could tell her answer was extremely wearing. Just as she was about to open her mouth to ask something else, the voice of the telephone filled the thin air. Ari's head shot around excitedly as she bounced towards the black cordless phone. "I got it, I got it!" She chimed before her tiny hand reached out to pick up the large receiver. "Hello? Hi Rachael!"
Gabriella stared blankly at the pile of ice cream that was melting with every second that it wasn't being eaten. Anger was still in her veins from her mother's selfishness. She still couldn't get the thought of Troy's muscular, sweaty body draped over another thin girls' nude one, grunting in ways that she could only image he sounded like. The dark chocolate colored eyes then looked up to her little sister that was dancing around happily. Why couldn't life be like that? No guys you liked having sex with other girls, no three scars that went down your stomach, no mother who slept with anyone else. Ari was lucky she was so naïve. The youngest had been too small to actually get the brunt of the cause of the three scars. She was too little, and at least he was kind enough not to hit her. But Gabriella? There was nothing that stopped him from abusing her.
"Ella, Ella!" Ari's voice sung, dragging Gabriella out of her thoughts as she looked down to the cheeky girl who was dancing with delight. "Rachael wants me to sleep over, can I?"
Gabriella's eyes grew four sizes too big. Her small beating heart increased in speed to the point that it was almost in sync with when she ran state Cross Country. The slender fingers went completely numb as hope was stretched across her face. A smile painted onto her lips as Ari's face was praying. "Of course you can sleep over!" Gabriella practically screams as she pulls Ari into a bone crushing hug. That was her savior. Her new favorite person was most definitely Rachael. Thank God for that girl.
"I can!" Ari yells into the phone as Gabriella's legs were now twitching in anticipation. After saying goodbye, Ari slams the phone back to the receiver and turns to Gabriella. "I have to go pack; they're going to pick me up in fifteen minutes."
"Perfect!" Gabriella almost squealed as Ari bounded towards the steps. The oldest glanced down at the kitchen table to see that the ice cream was dripping, now forgotten. She grabbed the sticky bowl and shoved it into the sink.
Panic now coursed through her veins. She could go, but would Troy even be there by the time she got there? He never said if he was going to stay for the whole time, or come early or late. They had barely talked that day, and maybe that's why Gabriella was twitching in anticipation also. She wanted to be around him, no, needed to be around him. More than she even knew.
She needed a hot outfit.
"Ella? Are you going to be lonely if I leave?" Ari's voice could be heard as Gabriella practically sprinted up the stairs to get to her room. She quickly glanced in Ari's small room to see the lime green colored walls with the double bed sitting in the center. Drawings she had done hung on the walls loosely as Gabriella could see her bright pink duffle bag was ripped open with half of her clothes inside.
"No, no Ar I think I'll be ok." Gabriella responded hurriedly as she rushed into her room, leaving the door open.
"What are you going to do while I'm gone?" Ari's curious voice asked as Gabriella's arms ripped open the bottom of her white dresser to dig through various jeans. She grabbed the pants she wore for skiing, then a light pair that was ripped on the knee and hung dangerously low on her hips.
Hopefully Troy Bolton. "Um… I'll find something." She shot up from her kneeling position and ripped her walk in closet open to try to find a top. Troy Bolton, get ready to be knocked off your feet.
She needed to look REALLY hot.