"I like Troy Bolton."
No one in the room blinked for a good minute or two. And then they all looked at each other and as if on cue, they all let out a laugh. They were laughing as if it's the funniest thing in the world or something. Okay, not that dramatic, but still, they were laughing and I had no idea why.
"Guys!"
Cara was the first one to stop laughing followed by Cassidy and then Phil finally stopped.
We all were at Cara's having a movie night. It was Sunday night and we all wanted to watch a movie but we didn't want to go to the movie theaters so we're all just cuddled in Cara's movie theater (oh yeah, her family is beyond rich) preparing to put on a movie, but I just had to let that out. After all, these people are my best friends. How could I not tell them?
"We know," Phil spoke up for them, "I don't even know why you're announcing it."
I closed my eyes and covered my face with my hands, embarrassed. Even if these were my best friends. It was still embarrassing and it made me feel like such a horrible person. I'm emotionally cheating and it's so bad. "I just realized I REALLY like him and it's the worst thing ever, isn't it?!"
I uncovered my face and went and joined them in the seats. I was at the end next to Cass who was next to Cara and Phil was at the other end. It was seriously a mini theater, with four big chairs in a row. And they were so comfy. I just wanted to bury myself in here and be left alone for days.
"You're not doing anything about it," Cassidy shrugged it off. "Or is it to the point where you want to break up with Mark?"
"No," I answer a little too quickly, almost not convincing myself of it, "I mean, no, I don't think so. Mark's great, but I mean, I see Troy almost everyday and he's great too and so good looking and ugh, it's so confusing." I really need their advice right now so hopefully they can step up and give it to me without me having to ask them to.
"Dump Mark, date Troy," Phil puts it so eloquently.
Cara looked at him and laughed and then turned back to me, "What does your heart tell you?" she puts her hand over her heart, "Or which one would you rather see naked?"
"NOW'S NOT THE TIME TO BE QUOTING SHE'S THE MAN, CARA!" I got up and practically yell at her. No, I am yelling. But I'm not mad at her, I'm mad at myself. Is it my fault I let it get to this? Or is it all happening without my control? Because it's not like I purposely went out of my way to hang out with him and stuff. It just happened and in the process, I started liking him. So I don't know. Am I that bad of a person? Or just a little bit?
Cassidy got up and put her hands on my shoulders, "Okay, sorry, we're kidding. We're on your side and we really just want you to be happy," she assured me, "How about we make a list?"
"What?"
"A list of what?" Phil asks, throwing some popcorn in his mouth, "of their qualities, things they have to offer or some shit like that?"
Cassidy nodded as she ran out of the room and came back not a minute later with a notepad and a pen ready to take notes about each guy. "It works. I've seen it in movies," she says, taking a seat back in her chair. Movies aren't real. And this is probably not a good idea.
I sigh. I think I'm going to have to give into this. But then I remember something. "Actually, let's not. It's useless. Troy's probably not even into me and so yeah, I shouldn't even be thinking about all of this." He could just see me as a friend. I could not be his type. And I'm just reading all of the signs wrong.
"Okay, then hypothetically," Cassidy says. I guess she's really excited about this list making or something.
"Does your brother know?"
Cara's question caught me by surprise. Holy shit. My brother. My family. I didn't even think about them. I didn't even factor them in. If by the grace of God, Troy happens to like me back, what about my family?! Would my brother want me dating his best friend? Would my parents want me to date someone who's like another son to them? What if it doesn't work out, will he feel too awkward to come over and my parents and brother lose their friendship with him? What if it ends horrible and I hate him and I never want to see him again and my parents and brother are in an awkward position. Ugh. No. This isn't good.
"Forget it, too much. I'm over this crush, obsession, whatever it is with Troy Bolton." Okay, I'm not exactly over it, but I have to be. This would not be good for my family at all or for me, really. I'm driving myself crazy and it's not healthy. So yes, this needs to end. Sooner rather than later, really.
"Mark's coming next weekend, right?" Cara tells me. Well, reminds me. I completely forgot. So I nod. "Well, see how that goes, if you really can't see yourself without Mark, keep it going. If you can see yourself better with Troy, break it off."
But that's the thing. I can't really see myself with Troy because I don't know if he likes me or not. He says things sometimes that make me think he might, but I could never know for sure. "It's not that easy, guys," I slump down in my seat. "I just wish there was someway I could know if Troy is remotely interested, will ever be interested, or will not, you know? It would make EVERYTHING so much easier."
I shouldn't have said that. Especially in front of Cassidy. Oh no.
"Don't worry, I'll find out," she tells me with the biggest smile on her face, "and I can assure you the answer will be yes!"
Oh boy.
I see Troy everyday in class, and some days we talk, small chit chat here and there since our teacher usually has us taking a lot of notes, and other days we just sit there in silence because of the notes we're taking. But I'm still always happy to see him when he shows up on my doorstep unannounced, but what are neighbors for, right?
"Josh isn't here," I tell him, closing the door after he's already walked in.
He turns around and gives me a smile, "I'm not here for Josh."
"Okay, well Ava's not here either," I tell him giving him a smile right back and walking past him to the kitchen where I was making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, "Actually, no one's here. They all just left to dinner."
He followed me into the kitchen, "And you didn't go?"
I shook my head as I opened the fridge and took out the jar of strawberry jelly and then walked back to the counter where the bread was already out, along with the peanut butter. "I just got home from babysitting my cousin and I just wasn't in the mood for a restaurant."
"Well that's good," he tells me, sitting down on one of the stools in front of me, "because I'm here to do some homework with you."
I opened the jar of peanut butter and stuck a knife in there, grabbing a large chuck of it before spreading it all over one of the slices of bread, "Chemistry homework?" I ask, because that's all the homework we've ever done together. And it's only been like a handful of times.
"No," he shakes his head before standing up and walking over to the fridge. He doesn't even need to ask anymore. "Calculus."
I licked off the peanut butter that got on my thumb while spreading it and gave him a smirk, "You need help with math?"
I was beginning to learn a lot about Troy Bolton the past month, and I learned that Troy Bolton hardly likes asking for help. Maybe it's a guy thing, I don't know, but he hardly wanted help and hardly ever asked. So this was something I definitely smirked about. But I should be nice and maybe not.
"Sort of," he plays it down, "I'm not failing or anything, but I'm a little stuck on a section and I know you're like this math nerd, so here I am."
I faked being mad. Because it's what they do in the movies and it's usually cute. "Excuse me," I pointed the knife at him that was filled with peanut butter and it was a butter knife so it wasn't that threatening, "it's not my fault I'm genetically gifted in that area."
He laughed and climbed back onto the stool, "Alright, sorry. You're incredibly gifted in math so I thought you could help me."
I pretended to think about it. Okay, I was being too lame. So I cut the crap. "Sure, let me just finish this," I tell him, grabbing some jelly and spreading it all over. Jelly was my favorite part. Thankfully I finished all my homework already. "Do you want one?"
He leaned over a bit and looked at my sandwich and after thinking about it for a few seconds, he made up his mind, "Sure." He got up and went to wash his hands and came back ready to make it but I told him I got it.
And then he put his hand on my back, "Thanks," he tells me, "I'm going to go get my stuff."
I stood there with butterflies in my stomach as he walked out of my house and back to his to get his stuff and ugh, why did his touch, even if it was a friendly one, give me some nerves? This was not okay.
"Yeah, then you just multiply by two and you got it," I lean away from Troy as I explain to him how to do the last of the problems.
Either I'm a really good teacher or he didn't need as much help as he though because we whizzed by his homework pretty fast and he seemed to be getting it. Maybe I should think about teaching or something. Hm.
"I got chiiilllls, they're multiplyingggg," he starts singing out of nowhere as he answers his last problem, "and I'm losing controooool. Cause the power you're supplying, it's electrifyingggg..."
He put down his pencil and looked up at me and I looked at him and we were just locking eyes for what seemed like forever in silence and then I just started laughing. Full on laughing. I don't know why I found it so funny that he was just singing that. I know it's because I said multiplying, but still.
"I was in plays as a kid so I think it's safe to say I have a nice voice," he sounds offended that I'm laughing, but I know he's just messing around.
And of course I laugh some more. This is why it was so easy and fun to be around him. We always kept things light and we'd always laugh and he was just so funny and easy-going and cool and nice and hot. Very hot.
"No, no," I told him, in between laughs, "you have a lovely voice, you do..." I was laughing at how into it he seemed and the spontaneity of it all.
"Then what? Is Grease too girly to be singing?"
I'm still laughing, but it's coming down to chuckles, "Are you kidding? Grease is a classic. If you didn't like it and or know the songs, I'd probably kick you out." I'm pretty sure I was being serious. Grease is one of my all time favorite movies.
"Well thanks for the compliment," he tells me, "you have a lovely laugh."
Of course this makes me laugh a bit more, but also stare at him in confusion, "What?" Who says someone has a lovely laugh?
He shrugs and gives me a smile, "I just mean you have a really cute laugh," he explains, "you have a really cute laugh."
And then suddenly, I'm not really laughing anymore. Those damn butterflies are back in my stomach and my head is spinning. Is Troy Bolton... dare, I say, flirting with me? A little bit? I don't want to think it because it'll only drive me more crazy, but I feel like he is and I don't know what to do now.
I don't even know how I managed to tell him thank you without stuttering or acting like a moron, but I did and I was proud of myself.
"Thanks for helping me," he tells me after a few moments of silence. He shuts his textbook along with his notebook and pushed it off to the side, "I think I've got it covered now."
Did he feel what I was feeling? Not awkward or uncomfortable, but a little too... what's the word? Hm. Close. Yeah, I think close. Maybe he was feeling a little too close to me in that moment so he changed subjects, thank God, because I was driving myself crazy. I think in a perfect world, I wouldn't have a boyfriend and we'd be doing this and acting this way and I'd be so happy that it seems like he's showing interest and then we'd kiss and it'd be magical.
But that's not going to happen. And for some strange reason, I think I decide that I don't know if I want him to like me because that would make things even more complicated than they already are. Him not liking me meant I never had to act on my feelings and I could focus on Mark.
"You're welcome," I tell him, also closing my own calculus textbook. It was easier using both so we didn't have to share, "it was no problem."
And then he's getting up and he should go home. I should want him to go home so I can at least feel like an okay girlfriend, but something inside of me just made me say, screw it. Ask him to hang out.
"Do you want some ice cream or something?" Really, Gabriella? That's how you're going to ask him to stay?
He grabbed his things, but then placed them back down after hearing my question, "Sure."
Whatever, it worked. We got up and walked into the kitchen and he stood at the counter while I went in the freezer and grabbed the rocky road ice cream we had. I took it out and placed it on the counter in front of the both of us and I opened it. Oh, awkward.
He started laughing, "So which one of us is going to get it?"
I laughed, too. I offered him ice cream without even knowing how much we had. There was seriously only enough for one person and if that person was me, it still wouldn't be enough. I LOVED ice cream. Loved, loved, loved.
"You can have it," I told him, surprising myself. I KNEW I should have put it on the grocery list my mom asked for this morning, dammit! But I didn't because I thought we had some. Next time, I have to go with my gut or maybe just check the fridge before.
He shook his head and scooted it towards me, "No, it's your house."
True. But no, I should be a nice host and give it to him. "Yeah, but I offered you some, so no, you can have it."
Instead of going back and forth, we were standing there in silence, neither of us wanting to take the ice cream. Well, I did a little bit but I wouldn't. I offered it to him, he should take it. And then a smile appeared on his beautiful face.
"Why don't we just go get some?" he suggests.
Like a date?! Of course not, Gabriella, get a hold of yourself. "My choice?" I ask him.
He's still smiling at me and I'm still melting. Every. single. time. "Your choice."
"Good," I tell him, putting the ice cream away and walking out of the kitchen with him following closely behind. I grabbed my jacket that hanging on the staircase for whatever reason and grabbed my keys from the key bowl on the table in the front and then grabbed my purse which was on the table as well. "I'll drive since this place is not down the street or anything."
He looked a little confused, but he shrugged and went along, opening the door for us. Ice cream with the most beautiful man? What could be better?
"I knew about the cupcakes, but how did I not know about the ice cream?" Troy tells me for, like, the 5th time tonight.
We're pulling in my driveway and he's still going on about the ice cream place I took him to. It's called Sprinkles. It's a cupcake place, but they opened up an ice cream place right next door and the red velvet ice cream is heavenly. Seriously. It's SO good.
"I don't know," I told him, unbuckling my seat belt, "maybe you need to get out more."
He faked laughed, "Ha ha ha, well maybe you need to take me to some more of these places. First that Mexican restaurant that was the best food I've ever tasted, then this. Is all you do try out all these amazing good places?"
Pretty much. I love food. But how do I ignore that comment he just made? Maybe it was just the first thing he thought of as a comeback, but what if there was some truth to it? Did he want me to show him all these places and hang out with me? Maybe I'm just giving it too much though.
"I'm Mexican," I shrug, "we love to eat."
He laughed and finally unbuckled himself and opened his door, but didn't get out. "And I have no idea where you put it."
Is that a compliment? I'm going to take it as one. "Good genes," I tell him, "because running is the last thing I want to do. I'm actually waiting for the day it all catches up to me."
He glanced back at me and shook his head, "Nah, I don't think it will," he told me before getting out of the car which made me also get out. That comment made me smile, just like most of the things he says. I don't even know if he knows what exactly he's saying to me. Maybe he says it to all the girls or maybe he just doesn't think he's saying anything that could translate to flirting, I don't know.
I came around and now we were both just standing there in my driveway. Not awkwardly, but in silent, I think kind of deciding where we're going from here, how we're going to say bye, if we're going to say bye and all that. I should say bye, but I don't want to. I didn't expect this evening/night to be like this, but it was the best time I've had in a while even though I was helping him with homework. We somehow manage to make that fun.
"Your family's still not home?" he asks me and then I look around and see that the car they took is still not here.
Hm, weird. They've been gone for a little over 2 hours. Troy got to my house at 5:45 and they literally had just left. At 6:30 I asked if he wanted ice cream and we were out the door at 6:37 to Sprinkles. We got there close to 7, stayed for 20 minutes while we finished our ice cream and now it's 7:45. Okay, two hours. But what's taking them so long? They only went to a restaurant down the street didn't they?
And then I grabbed my phone and realized I hadn't checked it since we left for Sprinkles. I was driving and then at Sprinkles, I was eating my ice cream, talking to Troy, that I completely forgot. And sure enough, there was a text from Josh. At 7:20.
Done with dinner, but we're going over to the Marsh's. Ran into them at dinner. We're going to watch the basketball game. Wanna come?
The Marsh's were family friends. Trevor Marsh was my brother's soccer coach when he was 8 and his son and Josh became good friends which resulted in our parents being good friends and keeping in touch after all these years and going over to each others houses for dinner and stuff. I loved them, but I wasn't in the mood to drive over there to watch the basketball game. Besides, I was with Troy.
"They're at our friend's house," I clue him in since he asked about them.
I locked my car and turned around and headed inside my house with Troy following. We got inside and while he went to get his stuff from the table, I went to the living room and turned on the TV. I loved basketball. I think it's the most exciting sport. Cassidy and her family actually have season tickets so I'm excited to go to a game one of these days. They're so much better when you're actually there watching it.
"I forgot the Lakers played today."
I turned around and saw Troy standing there in the entryway of the living room carrying his books. It seemed like he was leaving and I didn't want him to. But I couldn't force him to stay. He probably wanted to get home.
"Wanna watch it?" Dammit Gabriella, stop it. Stop hanging out with him. "there's 2 minutes left in the first quarter."
He sat down next to me and placed his books on the coffee table in front of us. He leaned back and put his arm over me. Okay, not really. He extended both arms over the couch, but I'd like to pretend, okay? I haven't gotten any sort of romance in a while. But that'll change come Friday afternoon because Mark is finally coming down and I couldn't be more excited. Okay, that's a lie. I could be, but maybe the day of I will be. We'll see.
And then we're sitting there in mostly silence because we're so into the game. Soccer's my first love, but basketball is second, for sure. I get so wrapped up in the game. I knew it was on today, but it slipped my mind because of hanging out with Troy. But now I'm watching it with him and it's great.
Mark doesn't like basketball. But he likes soccer so I guess that'll have to do. Right? Ugh why do I have to compare the two?
"I never knew you were so into basketball," Troy tells me as the 3rd quarter is about to start, "it's weird."
I leaned back a little and looked at him, "Weird?"
He shook his head and laughed a bit, clarifying his comment, "No, not weird. I've just never really seen a girl truly into basketball who knows her stuff, that's it," he tells me and I wonder if he likes it or not.
It's not an act. I really do like basketball. And I know every player, I yell at them what they should be doing, who they should put in, and stuff. "Oh," I say, turning back to the TV, "Well, yeah, I love basketball."
"Do you wanna go to a game?"
I turned my head almost a bit too sudden, "What?"
"My dad has season tickets," he tells me, "Well his company does. He get it the whole month of November, though, so if you're interested... maybe you, Josh and I can go."
In you or the tickets? Just kidding. "Is that a serious question?" I ask him and then nod my head, "of course!"
He laughed and got up, "We'll go to their first home game in November then," he tells me, "I don't know why I'm talking like November is far away. It's next week. So next week."
Oh shit. It's November next week. Ah exciting! Now I can go to more games since Cassidy has tickets and Troy does too. Woo! "It's going to be a good game, too."
"Yeah, it will be," he's walking away now and I wonder where he's going. "I'm grabbing something to drink. Want me to grab you some Advil?"
I turned around, "Wait, what?"
He stood there, scratching the back of his neck, "Um you said you had a headache?"
"No, I didn't," I tell him, confused as hell because I DO have a headache, but I didn't tell him that. I could've sworn I didn't say anything.
He laughed and turned around completely, "Well, not to me personally, but you mumbled it in the car and I happened to hear it. Also, you were grabbing your head. Do you want an Advil or Tylenol and some water or not?"
Don't smile, Gabriella. Don't smile. "Oh, um, yeah, sure, an Advil's fine" I tell him and he's already turning around to go grab it, "thanks!"
I sink down in the couch and close my eyes. Why is this happening? Why is Mark not texting me back? And why is Troy in my house getting me Advil for my headache like my boyfriend should be here doing? Everything is so out of order, out of control and ugh. I just want a simple life where my boyfriend lived here and was over and we'd be cute and we'd kiss and hug and cuddle. But no, I couldn't have that. All I could do was lust over Troy and miss Mark.
But somehow, I wouldn't change it for the world.
