At Troy's statement, I can feel nothing but vigorous. He just smiles at me, in a different type of way. It is not the way that I'm used to. I'm used to him looking worried or concerned about me, or trying to analyze what kind of pain I must be dealing with at that moment. But this time, he just seems impressed – proud. And for this, I feel a sway of satisfaction. And for once I am not feeling it for someone else, I am not feeling good about somebody else's accomplishment, I am feeling good about my own. It seems to be much more delightful than getting an A on a test, or saying the correct answer to the teacher. This seems to overcome everything.

Troy and I depart from the cafeteria earlier than usual. We are walking down the hallway, chatting like any other day. It seems we almost have a routine to abide by now. We always sit by each other at lunch; he always walks me to my next hour. It seems unreal how all of this has happened so quickly.

It's different between us now – jauntier, less serious. We joke around and tell each other things that are embarrassing yet we are not afraid to speak about them. He is my best friend, the guy I can tell everything to. It seems impeccable to beat out how beautiful and how truly glorious he is, but I learn to deal with it.

People still gander at us, as if we are both from two different species. Some girls just glare at me and scoff with jealousy. They whisper to each other about how it seems impractical that I could ever be friends with Troy Bolton. But I learn to ignore them, they mean nothing to me.

Troy and I find ourselves outside the class I have next hour.

"Well, I'll see you after your practice?" I ask, taking a good look into his abysmal eyes.

The blue colors seem to go on forever – I can never get tired of looking into them.

"We have a few minutes, Gabriella." He tells me, a more amused tone to his voice.

I shuffle my feet, clasping onto my books tightly, "Of course." I act as if I noticed that, though I did not.

He just grins at me, "Now how am I gonna manage another three hours without you?" He sounds half-kidding but by his eloquent eyes I know he is serious.

I smile back at him, unable to hide my infatuation for this beautiful young man, "You will be fine, Troy."

He gives me a slight pout, "Again – I'm totally not feeling this whole separation thing."

I giggle at the dramatic look on his face, "What makes you want to hang out with a girl like me, Troy?"

"Everything." He moves closer towards me and pushes a strand of hair out of my face, that soft look in his eyes.

"Yo, Bolton, come on, man, you're gonna be late to class." I hear Chad belting out from across the hallway.

I look to Troy, who suddenly looks a bit disappointed. "That's your cue."

He sighs, looking into my eyes, "You'll be at my practice?" He takes my hands and begins to play with them, melting my heart with his beautiful eyes.

"Of course." I respond, gingerly. I could never resist him even if I tried to.

"I'll make a shot for you?" He suggests, looking rather excited.

"That would be wonderful." I whisper, unable to regain my composure.

He smiles, "I'll see you later then." He begins to walk away, backwards, still holding onto my hand. He winks at me before letting go.

I feel my heart thump loudly as I watch him walk away with Chad, heading towards his next hour.

The hours seem to go by at a very idle pace. I find myself anxious again to see Troy at the end of the day. It seems that nothing is as exciting as it used to be. Even school does not interest me. I find myself in a daze as the teacher rambles on about irrelevant subjects. I realize I can still get straight A's without even paying attention. I also realize that all I have wanted to do lately is hang out with Troy, be with him somehow. I must be obsessed with his presence – obsessed with the fact that someone is around for security. This is all new to me, really.

After third hour, I head to my locker and unravel my books for my next two hours.

I feel a presence from behind me and know my feelings are right when I hear a familiar voice, "Hey Gabriella."

I turn books in hand, to find Taylor McKessie, standing in front of me. I'm truly a bit shocked that she attempts to talk to me in the daylight like this, when everyone can see, but I decide to not question it.

"Hello." I say to her, putting on a friendly smile.

"I wanted to apologize about Friday. I hope you don't think we're mad about Earl or anything, because after Troy told us what went down between you two, we totally are cool with it. I mean, personally, I don't even like him – he's a creep!" Taylor assures me, smiling genuinely.

I figure Troy must have told her the same thing he told Kelsi.

"Well, I didn't mean to make a scene." I inform her, guilty. "Yes, I really can't stand the man, but I was hoping you guys wouldn't get upset."

"No, no. I don't even know why Martha talks to him. To tell you the truth, I think Martha's kind of weird also." She tells me in a hushed voice.

I only chuckle at her.

She watches my face for a reaction, "Are you going to the boys' practice tonight?"

"Well, Troy encouraged me to, so yeah." I respond, shutting my locker door carefully.

"I might make an appearance also. Chad's been kind of distant as usual but I miss the aggressiveness, you know?" Taylor jokes, laughing at her own comment.

I can't help but join her, remembering the violent looks on their faces.

"Who wouldn't?" I smile at her, pleased that she is not a judgmental person – I easily consider her a friend.

"You know, I have to tell you… do you believe that people can well, change other people's attitudes?" Taylor asks; I can tell this is a rhetorical question.

She continues eying me, an erratic grin on her face. "Gabriella, the first time I met you, you seemed very well… apprehensive, like you would break if someone touched you. But…" Her grin did not falter. "Within the passed week, I've noticed you seem… different. I'd like to blame it on something else, but I'd like to think Troy Bolton makes you happy… like, right now, you're glowing."

"Glowing? Am I?" I ask, oblivious to her evaluation.

I suddenly unlock my locker again looking into its mirror, curious to whether I really am glowing. As I look into the mirror, I see a very familiar girl, but truth be told, something is different. I glance harder, trying to figure out what it is. I realize very quickly – the sadness in my eyes seems less noticeable, and the colors in my cheeks are more lifelike.

I turn back to Taylor, stunned by her observation. "You believe Troy makes me… glow?"

"Well, that's usually what happens when you fall in love with someone – you're always in a good mood, and whenever they are around, you tend to glisten. I dunno, Gabriella. You get this twinkle in your eye - he's always on your mind, and you get the butterflies, and all you ever want to do is be with them. I mean, haven't you fallen in love before?" She surveys, as if I am actually in love with Troy.

Is that possible? I take in her comment for a second – thinking about the word love. Did that summarize my immense amount of feelings for Troy?

"I don't know if I'm in love with him. I just met him a few weeks ago." I tell her, unsure. "I've never fallen in love before though."

"Ever? I mean, like, not even once?" Disappointment appears in Taylor's eyes.

"Well, I mean, puppy love, but nothing too serious." I mutter, trying to avoid the conversation about my first love – or first puppy love.

I personally wonder to myself if it was even anything more than infatuation. Those feelings do not even begin to compare to what I feel for Troy.

"You poor girl…" Taylor seems slightly sympathetic. "Well, whatever you and Troy have, it must be something pretty strong – you both seem happier." She sounds serious, and a bit contented with this.

"R-really?" I stammer, unable to take in the fact that maybe Troy really does feel happy when he talks to me.

"Of course. But, hey, I'll see you at the practice tonight. Later girl." Taylor gives me a friendly wave before vanishing into the hallway filled with many people.

I watch her – analyzing everything she had said to me. Does Troy really make the melancholy disappear from my eyes? I know he makes me happy, I know he can make me smile with just his presence alone. I would have never assumed he would change the way I look to other people. Am I joyous? Do I smile at people in the hallway now? I look back to my locker's mirror, unable to unveil the mystery. I am not sure whether to take this as a good thing or as a bad thing. Of course, it can be good, for I will be happy and joyful whenever Troy is near me or around. But also, what will happen when Troy leaves my life? I will only become broken again – I will have that insipid look in my eyes, again, as if I am nothing but lifeless.

I know I am such an analyzer.

The school is so quiet when all the students are gone. It's almost peaceful. The hallways are so isolated. You can not hear a thing. You may go passed a few small classrooms where there are those after school geeks doing extra homework or retaking a test they did not get an A+ on. Okay, I admit, I am usually one of those people; therefore, I have no room to speak.

You can hear the music coming from the Auditorium where the play is being rehearsed. I am obligated to just lean my ear against the door just to hear how good of singers Sharpay and Ryan really are.

I decide against this and head directly towards the gym, where I can hear loud voices bellowing. Definitely the right place.

I walk in, trying to be subtle, as I head up towards the bleachers, finding a lonesome Taylor, who is watching the basketball players. I take a seat by her as she smiles in acknowledgment.

"Have I missed anything?" I ask, glancing to the pugnacious basketball players who look as if they are ready to rip each other's heads off any time now.

"Well, Troy and Chad completely bawled out Zeke for traveling, but that's about it." Taylor smirks, as if recalling the event in her mind.

I giggle, unable to block the image out of my own mind. "Sounds humorous."

"Very. So, I'm not really sure what's up with Chad lately. I'm assuming it's either basketball or another girl." Taylor looks troubled as she watches Chad swiftly steal the basketball from Jason.

"I haven't seen him with any other girls." I tell her, beneficently.

"Yeah, I'm not sure. I shouldn't worry so much about him – he's not worth it." Taylor mutters as we watch Troy go for a shot.

He makes it, and then I notice his eyes travel up to the bleachers, locking onto mine.

"I'll make a shot for you?"

I smile as he gives me a slight wink before going back to his practice. I feel Taylor's eyes filling up with amusement from next to me.

"Troy so has it bad for you, Gabriella."

"He acts like he does – but it's so hard to even believe it. I mean, look at him." I watch him as he glides passed his other teammates, beads of sweat pouring down him, yet he still looks as intoxicating as ever.

"Well, I'll use a direct quote, 'I don't understand why people don't like Gabriella – I think she's beautiful inside and out." Taylor's eyes flicker towards me, as if inquisitive towards how I may react.

I only inhale than exhale, "It seems too good to be true, you know? I mean… a month or two ago I was sitting alone at a lunch table, being harassed by Sharpay, and I had no friends. People avoided me. I was afraid of being touched, literally." I close my eyes, tightly. "Then he comes around – and it seems like nothing but just a figment of my imagination. He's beautiful, he's nice, and he's funny…"

"Gabriella, he cares about you." Taylor tells me.

I feel tears reflecting in my eyes and I don't want to let them fall. "I don't know why I care so much but I don't want him to leave, Taylor." I look down to the floor.

"I couldn't stand it – especially him, not Troy."

"He's not going to – he's not that type of guy." Taylor's voice is soft as she realizes I'm practically in tears at the thought of Troy walking out of my life.

"I'm so scared though, I'm so scared…" I tremble at the thought of him disappearing – of walking out of my life. "I've never been this close before."

"Don't be scared. It's going to be just fine." I feel Taylor touch my shoulder, consolingly. "I understand how you feel, but seriously, you have nothing to worry about. Troy likes you, a lot. He is definitely not going anywhere."

Her words seem to sink in and they comfort me a bit more. I wipe my eyes, not wanting to reveal any sort of weakness to this girl any further.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Taylor scolds, solemnly. Her eyes are on me, "Their practice is over, are you coming?" She asks her voice still tender.

I nod, grabbing my bag and following behind her as she heads towards the court to greet the boys. I notice the majority of guys dividing from Troy's side as we approach them – I figure it's because of me, of course.

Chad does not move, surprisingly, but his eyes lock onto Taylor, an unreadable expression forming. Troy's eyes simply light up as he sees me and he approaches me, grinning.

"Hey." He greets.

"Hi." I say, shakily, taking in the way his bronzed muscles look covered in ounces of sweat.

I'm amazed at how sexy he looks, even in perspiration.

"Hi Chad." Taylor looks to Chad, nodding to him, as if expecting a response.

"Hey Tay." Chad replies, casually. His eyes look to Troy, who is fixated on me.

"Troy, man, I gotta get home. I'll talk to you later."

"Chad," Taylor interrupts him. "Can I join you – just for a talk?" She gives him a thick stare and he looks shocked by her suggestion, but nods.

She follows behind him, reluctantly, leaving Troy and I to the court.

"So, shall we?" He swings a muscular arm around my waist and I become motionless to his perfect touch.

"Another dangerous adventure?" I kid, looking up to his ocean-blue eyes as we descend from the doors.

"I like dangerous adventures." He tells me, "However…" His eyes find me, penetrating me from just the glance. "I like dangerous girls even more."

I sometimes detest the way he knows exactly what to say to melt me. "So what's up with Chad and Taylor?"

"I'm not sure – Taylor says that he's acting distant again." I reply, informatively.

"Yeah… I think he likes her, he just doesn't know how to show it." Troy explains, as we approach New Mexico's blazing atmosphere.

I ignore the fact that Troy is still sweating – it just didn't seem to matter.

"I see." I murmur as we begin to walk towards my trailer's direction. "You played well, by the way."

"Did you see me make that shot for you?" He asks, his eyes trailing down to meet my own.

He is so much taller than me, but it seems to fit so naturally when he puts his arm around me.

"That was excellent." I smile at him, unable to hide my giddiness towards him in general.

"Hey, it was all for you." He chuckles as we approach the first street before my trailer park. "This place is a piece of cake now."

I roll my eyes, "When you first came here, you were practically shaking." I smile at the memory.

"Practically? I was, I was scared." He admits, laughing.

I love his laugh – it is so buoyant and melodic. "Petrified, actually."

"Are you mocking your own sense of fear, Troy?" I inquire, raising an eyebrow, dangerously.

He breaks his arm away from my waist and walks in front of me, turning to face me, a challenging expression on his face, "What if I am, Gabriella? What are you going to do about it?"

"Good question." I laugh at his childish behavior. "You underestimate my potential, Troy."

"I actually do – I realized that today when you told off Sharpay. That was cool." He confesses, the smile never leaving his face.

"She had it coming, really." I exchange looks with him as I move closer to him,

"But you shouldn't estimate me at all – I told you I didn't like to be the timid kitten."

He looks at me for a second, as if thinking about something, then extends a hand, "Alright, I surrender – no more estimating Gabriella Montez." A smile appears on his face as I accept his hand, feeling the warmth of it.

We continue walking, hand-in-hand, "I don't remember your house being this far away, really." He mutters.

"Oh, Mr. Star Basketball Player is getting tired?" I joke, elbowing him.

"Yes, actually, after a three hour practice, I'm basically exhausted." His eyes do not meet mine again as I realize we really have been walking for some time.

"Well, you should come in for awhile; maybe you could meet my mother." I suggest, remembering how my mother desperately wanted to meet him.

I know very well that my mother would adore Troy. I don't know anyone who wouldn't like him, to be honest.

"That'd be cool." I can't help but notice the hesitation in his voice.

"She will like you, I promise." I tell him, intrepid about the entire situation.

"Well, alright, if you insist." I hear him chuckle from beside me, obviously giving in to the idea as we approach the trailer park I'm most accustomed to.

I still do not like looking at it – it still looks as grotesque as always in its colorless fashion.

Troy yawns, "Well, here we are." He lets go of my hand as we trail up towards the front porch, and I watch as he steps back, a look of uncertainty filling his eyes.

I had never seen him look nervous before – this must be the first.

"Troy." I plead, giving him hopeful eyes.

"Fine." He sighs, yielding as I unlock the door, strolling in.

He follows behind me, a slower pace accompanying him.

"Mama!" I yell, in hopes to summon my mother.

I assume she is doing laundry, for usually she is in the living-room.

From behind me, Troy is shifting his eyes neurotically.

My mother appears within a minute or two, as if to greet me. Her eyes then flicker to Troy, who freezes up at her glance. She examines him, from head to toe. A look of astonishment is prominent on her face, and I can only assume she's wondering how I managed to bring home a boy like Troy.

"Ma, this is Troy Bolton – the boy I've been hanging out with lately." I explain to her, acknowledging Troy with my eyes.

He just stands straight, not moving an inch, extremely stiff.

"Ah, hello. Nice to meet you, Troy." My mother gives him a polite smile.

"Likewise, Mrs. Montez." Troy gives her one of his charming smiles, and I can tell she's already dazzled as much as I am.

"Well, come on in, why don't you? I was just going to make some subs." Mother invites, her eyes looking to me with approval.

"Well, I guess it couldn't kill me, especially when I love sandwiches." Troy's friendly side came out quickly, and I can tell he already felt comfortable.

I'm staggered at how he can talk to people, so easily, even when he does not know them.

I take a seat on the couch and glance at him. He takes the seat next to me, indifferently.

"My mom is an excellent cook." I inform him.

"Oh, that's probably the only thing I'm good at." She jokes from the kitchen, chuckling.

"Well, Troy's quite the food fanatic." I look to Troy, provocatively.

"Oh, really? Well that's good. So, Troy, what do you do in your spare time?" My mother always has to survey the guys – and that is exactly what she is doing.

"Well… basketball and school… and of course, I enjoy being with Gabriella." He gives me a cheesy grin as I roll my eyes looking away from him, blushing.

"How sweet. Basketball? Isn't your father the coach?"

"Yes mah'm." Troy answers in a more militant manner.

"Oh, please, no mah'ms, you know I prefer people just call me Gina. I feel so old being referred to as mah'm or Mrs. Montez." She gives Troy a benignant smile.

"So you're rather good at basketball, then?"

"He's the star player of the team." I pitch him, and Troy just bites his bottom lip, his eyes shifting around the room again.

"Well, then. That must be something. Good grades, too?" She inquires.

"Well, I've had Academic Honor classes since freshmen year." Troy sounds awfully presumptuous about this one.

"Hmm, so you're a brainiac like my daughter?" She kids, flipping the sandwiches onto two plates, quickly.

"Sort of." Troy looks to me, a look of admiration on his face.

My mother comes into the room, lying down the plates onto the coffee-table, one for me and one for Troy. She looks rather egotistical about her subs as she strolls back into the kitchen.

"This looks delicious, thank you." Troy says, politely, as he grabs the sandwich, practically shoving it down his throat.

I laugh at him.

"Something funny?" He asks, through his muffled chews.

"Absolutely nothing." I take a bite, amazed at how well my mother is at cooking.

"Its great, Mrs. M. But, you know, I have to get going…" Troy says after swallowing about half of his sandwich.

His eyes are looking out the windows – its getting dark outside and I can tell he is slightly paranoid about walking in the dark. He gets up from the couch, and heads into the kitchen, as if he lives here, and throws the paper plate away.

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Montez. I think you have an amazing daughter." He gives her another heart-straining grin before striding towards the door.

I follow after him to say goodbye. He bites his lip in a rather apprehensive manner before he takes my arm gently and pulls me outside of the trailer, closing the door behind me.

His eyes are intense on my own. "I don't really want to leave, but you know my dad's going to wonder where I am." His eyes search my own for a response.

"I'm pretty sure my mom likes you." I assure him, bold about the idea.

"You think so? Well, I tried." He gives me one of those winks that make my heart beat out of my chest.

Then, with a trouble looked on his face, he gets closer to me, breathing in and out. He looks rather nervous as he leans his forehead against my own.

"So, there's something I've been dying to do and if I don't do it soon I might just drive myself crazy thinking about doing it." He grins, the grin that makes my knees shake.

He moves his forehead and meets my eyes, and gradually moves in closer. I feel a tremble of anxiety jolt through me as I feel his lips coming closer and closer to my own. I can feel his breath on my face as I try to contain the butterflies that are piling up in my stomach at the closeness between us. He is beautiful – and he is going to kiss me. I almost believe I am dreaming for a few seconds until I feel my own eyes shut, automatically. And then I feel his lips press against my own; the softness seems to paralyze me.

I must stand on my tip toes just to reach his lips, and I can feel myself falling for him even harder with the deepness of the kiss. His tongue discovers the environment in my mouth and I feel the unfamiliar feelings of desire and want consume me. Was this happening? He moves out for a second and we both breathe in unison. And then his lips are on mine again – passion and vitality taking over the both of us. I forget all my troubles – the past, Earl, the hurt that East High has caused me for my entire life. I find a sweetness in Troy, a genuine innocence that seems to linger every where I go. He really did make me glow, did he not? How couldn't he? He moves everything he touches – he is just a miracle. He's the miracle God sent me to save me from all of my difficulties. He really is an angel.

He moves away after time seems to be stopped and then rewound again. His eyes are still closed for a second before he opens his eyes – the beautiful blue color still noticeable in them.

"I'll… see you tomorrow?" He manages to ask, sounding breathless.

I only nod, as his eyes are on me. I've never known a guy who can look at me in such a way that it leaves me speechless, or a guy that can leave me in hysterics just from one kiss. I watch him fade away into the night, while I continue being featherless on cloud nine. A smile forms on my face as I dance in place with merriment. Maybe Taylor is right – maybe I have fallen for Troy Bolton.