A/N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback last chapter! Your thoughts and theories are always so amusing to me.

So, I know in the past I've had readers mention how they pair music with chapters. Well, I decided to make a soundtrack for the story. It's in my profile, and I should give credit to Unproper Grammar for the idea. Although I don't have as unique and awesome music as she does, but I generally picked a song before writing a chapter and listened to it nonstop until my iTunes counts jacked up to obnoxious numbers. It should be noted that not every song fits a chapter perfectly or for its entirety. For example, "Remember the Name" is associated with chapter 11 basketball scene, but obviously not the coffee shop. The songs chosen where just what I listened to, so if they have absolutely no meaning to the chapter, well… you can just blame it on me being uncreative. Anyways… I hope you'll enjoy!

Those of you that are wondering, this story is going to be 39 chapters. It's completed now.

Thanks so much for reading, as always. This chapter's paired with the song "This Afternoon" and it's actually my favorite chapter in the whole story, so I really hope you enjoy it too!


By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around, Gabriella just wanted to be left alone.

Not that she didn't cherish every moment she spent with Troy and his parents. Within the past days, she had been introduced to a family that took her in as though she had belonged there all along. She had walked along the sidewalks with her hands laced tightly into Troy's without worrying about being mugged. Jack had taught her how to fix a busted drawer when she unhinged the one that rested beneath the telephone. Lucille had taken her grocery shopping while the father and son bonded over what was apparently a truck in the garage that Troy had been all too eager to be reacquainted with. Everything was perfectly domesticated, a little family that helped the others out when in need. It was flawless, and she was thankful to be surrounded by such wonderful people.

Her crave for isolation, however, brewed deeper than simply wanting privacy. While the Boltons lingered in her presence, it was difficult for Gabriella to hunt for objects or memories that may bring her closer to the revelation of Troy's past. She couldn't exactly sift through the family photos while Lucille was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She was certain that the happy-go-lucky aura would quickly fade if Emily was brought into the conversation. Therefore, she wanted to be sure that she avoided hounding his parents for information, even if they may hold the goldmine. Instead, Gabriella's focuses were on the most sacred place of Troy's childhood – it was just a matter of time that Gabriella would be allowed to tear apart the bedroom.

Unfortunately, as Gabriella walked at Troy's side with a bowl of sliced fruit that made her fingers prune, she knew there would be little opportunity to slip away from the family and escape to his room. Against her journalist instincts to pretend she was sick and just linger in the home while the family attended the small block party, she agreed to join them when they suggested it could be fun. Troy had informed her that he was certain the neighbors were just making an excuse to see him. She had rolled her eyes at his cockiness that seemed to be revealing itself more in Albuquerque than it's presence in New York.

"Isn't Albuquerque supposed to be warm?" Gabriella murmured out of the corner of her mouth, shivering in her fitted white tee that held a pastel pattern to it. The sun shined brightly upon her dark jeans and black flip flops, but the air was not the pure heat she had been anticipating when she discovered she would be flying to New Mexico.

"It's still winter Gab," Troy chuckled throatily, slinging his arm around her shoulders and frantically rubbing up and down her arm to create friction, "You want my sweatshirt?" He asked in reference to the black zip up he sported over his black v-neck.

Gabriella, feeling like a high school girl innocently escorted by her first boyfriend again, did her best not to blush so close to the parents that were walking in front of them, "I'm alright."

He retrieved his arm and nudged her with his elbow playfully, "Then stop complaining, and maybe I'll give you a cookie."

"A cookie?" She raised her eyebrows incredulously, "You're seriously bribing me with baked goods?"

Looking at the few houses they passed as they approached the seventies music that crackled through a battery powered radio, Troy leaned towards her ear so his breath was hot against her cheek, "I didn't want to bribe you with other methods while children are so close." He purred suggestively, nibbling on her ear in the process. Shivers rippled down Gabriella's spine as they turned towards another large house with balloons twirling decoratively upon the mailbox.

All x-rated thoughts had to be pushed aside when the foursome finally made it around the side of the ranch style home, taking sight in the crowd that clustered in lawn chairs around the lawn. Bob Marley swayed through the trees and wrapped around the excited children that bounced around the grass and bothered their parents who were throwing their heads back with laughter at an amusing comment. It was a fairly large party considering Troy believed the host was throwing it in order to make an excuse to see him specifically. Then again, with a celebrity status as a player of the Bruins, she shouldn't have expected anything less than a welcome home party.

"Well look here y'all, the Boltons finally decided to show up." A voice laced with a southern twang sung, causing the party-goers to turn in the direction that the family was marching. Not quite shy enough to cower but uncomfortable nonetheless, Gabriella shot Troy a wary look in hesitation. In response, he gave her an encouraging wink as the woman in an apron hurried towards them.

Even if she couldn't see her, Gabriella could hear the smile in Lucille's voice as she hugged the woman, "Sorry we're late Stel…"

Her apology was short lived, for the moment the woman's flaming muddy-red coils peaked through the window of Lucille's head, her eyes widened with pure disbelief and awe, "Well I'll be dammed…." She mumbled, her head shaking with pure astonishment as she gently pushed aside the only female Bolton. Both Lucille and Jack turned back, knowing smiles upon their faces when the woman continued to stare upon their son as though he rose from the dead. Gabriella subtly sidestepped as the woman finally made it to them to be certain she wouldn't be tackled in the line of fire when she threw her arms around Troy's study shoulders, glee dancing from her laughter, "Bless your heart boy, you're back!"

Chuckling, Troy made no hesitation to return the hug, "I couldn't stay away from your wings for too long, Stella."

The mystery woman pulled away, allowing Gabriella access to the tiny wrinkles that creased on the corners of her eyes. Her hair curled tightly, contrasting to Gabriella's long waves, with gray strands that hid within the mess. A floral long sleeve covered her top and pushed up her arms when she cupped his cheek with delight, "Oh my lord, you're even more handsome than the last time I saw you. You buzzed that scraggily mop…"

Running a hand through his shortened hair, Troy shrugged, "You like it?"

"You look like you just walked out of Hollywood. Hey y'all!" The woman suddenly spun around to yell. Jack and Lucille sunk into the sidelines as the occupants of the backyard stretched their heads to see what all the fuss was about, "Look who graced us with his presence!"

It was as though someone announced the president's arrival, for an explosion of cheers and excitement boomed from the guests. Immediately, the greeting rumbled against the earth. The children glanced at each other with confusion as their parents abandoned them to rush towards the ex-player. Clearly used to the attention, Troy merely laughed when the few men hurried to shake his hand, their wives not far behind to swoon over how old he has gotten. The small cluster formed quickly around Lucille and Jack to greet them as well, though the glory of the family seemed to belong to the youngest. Apparently, it wasn't every day a retired college basketball player returned from a busy city.

In the time that the neighbor's gathered, Gabriella quickly slipped into the backdrop. She awkwardly grabbed her elbow, clearly going unnoticed by the citizens of Albuquerque. Though she hardly minded; in fact, she enjoyed watching the scene transpire. Troy was illuminated by his old community; his charisma was more apparent now than she had ever experienced. Brief words were exchanged of how he had been, how the job was, and how New York was treating him. It was fascinating to Gabriella, absorbing her significant other's popularity while lingering in the back of the crowd to allow him room to entertain.

After a few minutes of small talk, the southern woman who had first announced his arrival hugged him after the brunt of the crowd once again began to filter back towards their respective places, "When did you grow up so fast?" She asked, looking up into his tanned face with mystery.

Finally, his eyes flicked towards Gabriella. Holding his stare for a long moment, she knew the answer to that question but didn't dare speak it allowed in front of the unknown. Instead of making a comment, however, Troy stepped in the opposite direction to close the distance between the two. He grabbed the woman's hands between his, a bright beam exploding from his face when he turned towards the journalist, "Stel? Can you come here for a sec, there's someone I really want you to meet…"

For the first time since their arrival, the curly-haired woman turned in her direction. Her mouth curled as Gabriella dropped her arm to attempt to produce confidence by opening her body up. She eyed Troy knowingly when he reached out with a gentle smile and laced their fingers together. Sliding his arm around her tiny waist, Troy pulled her close as he spoke, "Stella Carmichael… this is Gabriella Montez. Gabriella, this is Stella. She babysat me when I was a kid."

"Oh sweetheart," Stella cooed, bringing her hands around to yank her from Troy's grasp, "No wonder you never leave New York. She's prettier than a box of roses. Come here and give me a hug, honey."

"It's great to meet you." Gabriella sincerely grinned. Sure, she had only known the woman for less than ten seconds, but it was clearly obvious that she was going to enjoy the sweet taste of Deep South in the few hours they would be there.

"You should have told me you were bringin' your girlfriend! I wouldva fixed myself up more." She pushed back some of her flaming bangs. Quickly, Troy reclaimed his territory and enveloped Gabriella on his arm once again.

Again, Gabriella let out her all too famous laugh, "I'd pick jeans over a skirt any day."

Stella whirled to Troy with a wink, "That's it, she's a keeper. You hang on to this one, boy."

It may have been a joke, but the twinkle in his eyes proved something more. Tingles gurgled in her stomach by the way he looked at her, with the same praise and devotion he had the previous evening. Even within the bright sunshine and the colorful people around, the world momentarily faded to the two of them. Slowly, Troy's hand trailed down the surface of her waist to maintain all possible contact. She felt an uneven pitter patter of her heart when his lips leaned over and brushed against her temple, though never once removing the inferno that burst between them when he passionately responded, "I intend to."


"I'm so happy y'all decided to hang out with a bunch of old farts tonight," Stella grinned brightly as she leaned back against the lawn chair so the silhouette of her hair glowed against the orange sunset behind her. A drink rested against her leg and she was angled away from the house, "Honey, are you sure you don't want me to get you a chair for the big show?"

Upon the lawn, Gabriella shook her head and felt the tips of her cascading hair tickle her bare arms. The night was turning cool, but with her legs curled beneath her on the plaid blanket, she found herself strangely warm. With Lucille on her left and Stella on her right, they blocked the light breeze. The radio still hummed on the back porch where some of the men sat smoking cigars or some of the women pecking for left over dessert. A handful of the children, weary from their long days of bouncing around the yard, nestled in their mothers' bosom while peaking towards the star-dotted sky. Against the music, an uneven thump of a ball against the pavement was a constant reminder to keep glancing towards the basketball hoop, seeing her boyfriend attempting to teach a five year-old how to make a jump shot.

"I'm comfortable down here." Gabriella promised, stretching her legs out so her black flip flop dangled off the edge of her toe.

Stella puckered her lips after taking a drink from her amber colored glass, "You're in for a real treat. Wayne used to shoot off fireworks every Fourth of July back in Alabama. He and Old Darrell had a war worse than the civil." She shook her head in reminiscing.

Lucille laughed, wiggling her eyebrows down at Gabriella, "Remember when Jack's hair lit on fire because he wanted to try it?"

"I can still hear his screamin'" Stella tapped Lucille's arm fondly, "And Troy cut his hair so he could look like his daddy."

Gabriella shot a look to see that Troy was crouched before the blonde boy, grinning wildly while pointing up at the hoop. She couldn't help but imagine his innocence childhood in which he ran to his mother and Stella with a chunk of his chestnut strands in his hands, "I would have killed to see that." Gabriella said between giggles.

"It was terrible." Lucille smiled fondly at her son's teaching skills.

Cranking her head in the darkness in order to see, Stella clasped her long fingers together to allow the setting sun to shimmer off her cherry red nail polish, "Oh would you look at that. Looks like Joey's gonna be our basketball next star with lessons from that boy."

Suddenly, Gabriella's head perked up – which almost caused her to ram her head against the side of Lucille's chair. Her heart, as it always did when Troy's past was referenced, began to pitter patter unevenly against her chest. The journalist suddenly listed series of questions she formulated for this iconic figure in Gabriella's life. She was so eager that she didn't notice Lucille's raised eyebrows and curious tilt of her head while Gabriella whirled her head to luck up at the Alabama native, "You followed Troy's games at UCLA?" Gabriella asked in a shaky voice, though she did her best to remain nonchalant.

"Honey, Wayne and I took a road trip with these two," she nodded towards Lucille, "for his very first game. With the amount of time he lived in front of that hoop, I knew he'd shine. We used to watch him every night on the box. It's just too bad about his knee."

Gabriella froze, cocking her plucked eyebrow with confusion, "His knee?" She asked incredulously, blind to the burn Lucille drilled into the side of her head.

Stella nodded solemnly, "Sure thing. If he hadn't had surgery on his knee, he'da been drafted for sure."

Surgery? No, that was impossible,

Unable to help herself, she lifted her eyes to see the sharp edges of Lucille's lasers beaming into hers. There was a flip of her stomach and she immediately averted her gaze to the ground. Picking at the grass between her fingers, Gabriella's face felt hot like she was caught in a crime. Her breath came in short spasms, unable to accept this idea that contradicted every theory and hypothesis. Had she been wrong all along? Was Troy's secret as simple as a knee tear?

It was a lie. Gabriella had run her fingers over the surface of his entire body and kissed his bronze skin enough to know there was no scar on his leg that would lead her to believe an incision had been made. A cover, Gabriella figured, had been told in order to keep from the truth of his disappearance from the court. She had been so certain that Emily's pregnancy had been the cause of his abandonment. But then why was Stella so sure on his injury? Her mind suddenly reeled over every experience she had seen Troy run – there was no limp. His body was unscathed from the waist down. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself, however, the second guess of his tragedy bubbled in her stomach.

That was, until she looked up to see his arms swinging the giggling boy around the air with a pure fatherly aura.

The doubt was crushed when Troy enclosed the boy in his muscles, laughing blissfully. A sapphire sparkle broke through the twilight as he looked upon the child. With hands that tripled the boy's, he held him as though the world revolved around the tiny grasp. Words could not be heard, but Gabriella could see the effect youth produced upon. His skin, normally golden, sparkled and shined as though the sun burst through each of his pores. Gabriella felt her breath catch when he placed the boy to the floor and reached his hand out so the pair could race towards the grass. A natural instinct had taken over her lover, as though he had prepared himself previously for this experience and fell short.

Troy had impregnated Emily before she died. By his interactions between the five year-old boy and the basketball hoop, Gabriella was certain.

"Gabriella? Sweetheart you look pale."

Gabriella swallowed, unable to think rationally or grasp on the coherent words of Lucille. She took steady breaths to rid of the devotion she felt as she gazed upon him that moment. There was suddenly nothing more she wanted than to rush over and throw her arms around him, giving her deepest sympathies for his lost child. But she had to remain seated when he passed off the boy to his selective parents. She watched with admiration as he shook hands with the father and kissed the mother's creamy cheek before finally turning back towards the spot she was seated in.

For the second time that day, the world fell around her when Troy slowly began his journey towards her with a small smirk upon his face. His black shirt curved under his belt and his bronze skin was bright in the darkness. There were shouts and laughter around her when Wayne attempted to capture everyone attention. Gabriella, however, was much more focused on the way Troy's jeans hung low on his hips and the way he looked at her as though the universe was pathetic compared to her. Like a magnet in her chest, Gabriella rolled up when Troy dropped to his knees and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck to bring her in for a sensual kiss, whether his mom was seated behind them or not.

"Well would you look at that…" Stella's voice was far away when Gabriella placed her hands upon his sturdy shoulders to keep from falling, "Our boy's in love."

Just as her words were spoken, a bang exploded into the night sky. With the unexpected flare, Gabriella's heart jumpstarted and she yelped in surprise. Troy, laughing at her shock, looked upwards to see the glittering crimson and ivory lights erupt above. There were "ooos" and "ahhs", but Gabriella was fixated on the way the fireworks shined off his face and glistened in his eyes when he dropped his head to hunt for her mouth again just after mumbling, "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too." She whispered when they took a breath.

Troy grinned madly, making it difficult to kiss. Therefore, he settled on sitting behind her and slithered his arms around her back. The contort of his muscles made her feel safe, so she leaned back into his chest, Troy slinging his arm around her waist protectively, and absorbed the beauty of the night sky in the arms of the man she couldn't live without.


"Thanks for coming tonight." Troy said when they stepped into the Bolton kitchen an hour and a half later. Gabriella, blind to the world due to the lights that had been turned off, placed a steady hand on the counter. She twirled in the direction of his voice, knocking into the island moments before the lights illuminated the kitchen as she was caught squinting into his face, "I know it's not lying out on a beach or whatever for vacation, but it meant a lot to me."

"Are you kidding?" Gabriella asked incredulously, stepping towards him with an animated smile, "I got to meet the people you grew up with while eating free food. Stella's my new favorite person in this world and the fireworks were incredible. Troy, it wasn't a beach, but it was just as good."

His cheeky grin was enough to tell her he was elated by her words, but he attempted to be nonchalant when he joked, "Sucking up will get you nowhere Montez." He mumbled, leaning down to capture her lips with his. Sighing into the kiss, Gabriella slithered her fingers up the muscles that were covered by his cotton shirt and linked them behind his neck. She was hypnotized by the way his mouth moved against hers, probing in just the right places without suggesting any more than the moment.

When they pulled away, Gabriella lingered a few moments longer to revel in the tingles that surged up her spine. Finally though, she opened her eyes just in time to see Troy kiss her forehead and rub his thumb tenderly against the back of her palm, "Look, I hate to do this to you, but I need to change the oil in my truck."

She rolled her eyes, "That damn truck."

He scowled, "Don't hate. Anyways," he hesitated, looking deeply into her eyes in a way that didn't seem normal for the information he was giving, "Knowing my parents and the neighbors, they might not be back for another hour. Do you have something to do for work or whatever?"

Momentarily guilty for not telling him the exciting news of the Jeremy's offer, she was quick to respond, "No. No work."

Troy swallowed, "Well… are you going to be able to entertain yourself? Find something to do… alone?"

It dawned on her.

Suddenly, Gabriella's heart stopped beating when her eyes jerked up to meet his. The stare he was giving her, the look that he was reading her actions carefully pierced into her. Her mind was already spinning – trying to grasp the situation and remain calm while her nerves were practically leaping from her body. The world became hazy and Gabriella realized this was her chance, her opportunity to finally dig as she had intended when she first arrived. With her blood running cold and her hands now shaking, Gabriella nodded all too vigorously, "Yes…. Yes… " She practically panted, which made Troy slightly more uncomfortable.

"Kay. I'll be in the garage if you need anything," he leaned over and kissed her temple, squeezing his eyes shut as though he was taking advantage of the last moments of innocence. Doing her best not to push him away, Gabriella looked up into his eyes once more as he whispered, "Feel free to use whatever you need to." With that, he turned on his heels and marched towards the direction of the garage – his footsteps left echoes in their wake.

Frantically, Gabriella whirled around as soon as the door closed and narrowed her sights on the bedroom door that hung ajar. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to be certain that Troy wasn't lurking in the shadows watching her, and immediately sprinted towards her destination. Unfortunately, whilst consumed with the task at hand, she didn't notice the division of the gray carpet and the hardwood. The ground came much sooner than she expected when she stumbled to the floor, her wrist twisting when she reached out to brace herself and landed onto her side.

"Shit…" Gabriella groaned as she rolled over, staring at the four white panels that formed a cross of blue paint on the ceiling. The same colors matched the walls, though it was difficult to tell with the decorations of pictures and calendars were hanging. She sighed, rolling upwards onto her butt but was careful not to bang her head against the mahogany dresser that was tucked tightly in the corner next to the large white window that held a door as well. A television rested atop, and Gabriella briefly wondered if Troy spent his school nights flipping through sports channels instead of doing his homework as she was sure his mother would have asked him to do.

But that thought quickly disappeared – there were more important points to ponder. Like a gymnast, Gabriella twirled until she reached her feet once again, scanning the multihued of the furniture being reflected from the dozens of trophies adorning the tops of the walls. She raised her eyebrows before hurrying to leap upon the bed, feeling the squish of the mattress sink beneath her feet. Not quite sure what she was looking for, she scanned the tournaments and championships of past victories. Atlanta, San Diego, Miami, Georgetown: all cities that Troy had conquered with a sweeping layup. She picked up one specifically, wiping the dust off the plaque with the bottom of her shirt to admire. A single figurine stood with his knees bent and his eyes on the prize – the prize that Troy ultimately one in his glory days.

Although interesting and impressive, Gabriella let out a sigh when she replaced the award to its proper place knowing that his hardware would not reveal how his past fiancé passed. Teetering on her weight while surveying the room from the unique angle of the room, her eyes cast over the respective pictures hanging from the walls. Leaping from the bed, Gabriella hurried to survey each with detail - Chad's afro made several appearances. There were pictures with his hair floppy and his muscles not quite built yet, laughing whilst in company of his friends. They were clearly from his high school days with the immature appearance of his face that she knew had grown to be the attractive man he was now. Several showed up in black lighting at a concert or dressed in sweats, fatigued by a game he had played that night. The few that he was dressed in a tie and dress shirt never had a common date: Sadie Hawkins's held a brunette on his arm, prom a black haired beauty, homecoming a blonde.

Gabriella made her way around the perimeter of the room, finding no common female in any of the pictures. In fact, it seemed as though college had never existed in this room. There was a UCLA banner upon the wall and the obvious trophies, but the photographs stopped popping upon the walls after the beaming smile upon his dresser in his scarlet graduation robes. If she hadn't known he attended university, she would have thought he hadn't gone. That could either be due to his laziness once leaving Albuquerque, or because college was something he didn't want to remember.

Groaning in frustration, Gabriella glanced at the clock and mentally calculated how long it would take before Troy became bored of his truck and desired to let her ride him instead of he and his vehicle. She debated tearing apart his dresser, but knew that the only key to his past he might find there would be his much too small boxers. Biting her lip, she turned towards the closet and raised her eyebrows. Why not?

Once opening the doors, she caught sight of the suitcases they brought from New York in for storage. The closet itself hung sweatshirts and pants too big to sit in his dresser. Shoes piled in haphazard piles on the floor and extra basketballs threatened to roll out from the comers. However, none of these clothes caught her attention. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the cardboard box that was overflowing on the shelf next to his old gym bag. It wouldn't have made any difference, but she could see a crimson fabric hanging from the edge with the letters "WIL" exposed in white.

It was her last chance.

Quickly, she stumbled to remove the box from its hiding place and gently placed it on the bed. She hopped back onto the comforter, feeling her heart pitter patter unevenly while peering into depths of his childhood. Her nerves were stimulated and in over drive as she reached out towards the old uniform, though she pulled back as though it might bite her hand off if she got too close. Taking a deep breath, Gabriella grabbed his high school uniform and lifted it into the dimmed lighting. Stitched in white and black on the back was the bold "14" that defined his life. The fabric still had a hint of his musky scent, as though the ghost of his past lingered within the arms and curled around the seams. Her hands burned as though she was holding the Holy Grail. Maybe for him, it was.

But nothing of a dead girl.

Beneath the uniform were newer pictures by the way his muscles were bulging and his body was dressed in Carolina blue instead of scarlet red. No Emily. Again, there were multiples of his guy friends, teammates. No Emily. Her heart skipped a beat when Alicia suddenly popped into these photographs, of which she quickly tossed aside and continued her hunt. Still no Emily. Concert stubs, sunglasses, shot glasses: insignificant items and no common girl.

Maybe everything she had thought was a lie. Maybe Stella was right – the biggest secret was a knee injury.

Maybe her story was just that – a story.

She grabbed two chunks of her curls and felt her tears burn as she attempted to muffle her scream in anger. The hours she spent obsessing about Troy's past, they suddenly felt like wastes of time. The Google report, what if it was nothing more than a made up story to cause controversy? What if there was no Emily? What if Troy's reasoning for screwing Alicia was simply because he was a dick. Her skin boiled as though it was tortured, and she did her absolute best to keep from bursting into sobs. She felt betrayed and used… a failure to the task she had set out to complete was worthless and pathetic. She failed.

Gabriella couldn't help it any longer – she chucked the picture of his arm around Alicia against the wall in pure hatred, watching as it floated to the floor in a ghostly sway and screaming, "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" to no one. Her heart hammered wildly as she pulled her slender legs to her chest and buried her head into her jeans, fighting to keep some control. There was no story behind Troy's past. It was a simple cover up for a knee injury. The baby, the girl: none of it existed. It was over. She failed.

That was, until the soft voice rang from the door in a haunted whisper, "She's right here."