S O M E D A Y

PART ONE: Once Upon A Time

SUMMARY: Relationships and friendships both flourish and falter amidst the pressures of senior year and life in general. A hopefully original take of senior year at East High. All characters; TxG CxT. M for coarse language, sexual references/depictions

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to be responsible for the creation of this brilliant set of characters. I just play with them. And make them act out my kinky fantasies.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Z Rated would be understatement of the century for the first part of this chapter. You may thank me later for the mental imagery, girls. :-P

Chapter 36

On Saturday afternoon, Gabriella bound up the Bolton's driveway for her study afternoon with Troy. She had no trepidation in her step. She often liked to reflect upon the growth in her relationship with Troy, and the subsequent comfort she felt with his family – particularly his mother. At the end of January, she had arrived at Troy's early one Saturday morning for a study session. She had felt somewhat terrified. Now, she felt completely at ease.

The wooden door was open but the screen door was locked. Gabriella rang the doorbell, and Troy's mom appeared at the doorway almost straight away.

"Hi honey," Lucille Bolton greeted Gabriella, having anticipated her arrival.

"Hi Lucy," Gabriella greeted her. "Not working today?"

"No, I have the whole weekend off," the older woman replied. She stood back and held the door open for Gabriella to step inside.

"Wow," Gabriella said, genuinely surprised.

"A rarity for me, I know, two days off in a row over the weekend."

"I'll tell Troy to get off his lazy backside and do his own laundry so you might actually get to enjoy your days off then," Gabriella remarked teasingly, as she slipped off her ballet flats by the front door.

"Oh come on now, he's not all lazy, I'll give him that. He's been holed up studying since he got home from work," Lucille said, motioning upstairs. The bass from Troy's music could be heard from downstairs at the opposite end of the house. "I'll tell you, you've done miracles with our boy. Homework, on a Saturday? Almost unfathomable."

Gabriella smiled, indicating to the textbook she was clutching onto. "Yes, I know. But once Troy sets his mind to something…"

"Yes believe me, I know. Can I get you a drink before you go up?"

"I wouldn't mind a glass of water," Gabriella said.

She followed Lucille through to the kitchen, which backed onto the informal living room. Jack Bolton was sitting at the couch, watching video footage from the previous night's game.

"Hi Coach Bolton," Gabriella said, somewhat tentatively.

Jack picked up the remote control, pausing the video.

"Hello Gabriella. Big study plans I hear."

Gabriella nodded. "We have a physics report due at the end of next week that is worth a huge part of our grade. And Troy has a trigonometry exam at the beginning of the week after that, which I've convinced him to start studying for sooner rather than later."

"How was your session at the guidance counsellor?"

"Really really great. I've been researching into colleges and stuff for years, but never on a serious level. There's so much that even I didn't realise was going to be involved in the application process."

"Have your shortlist yet?"

"Still working on it," Gabriella said elusively. "But feeling confident it should all work out."

"Here you go," Lucille said, handing Gabriella a glass of water. She also handed over a can of coke. "You can give that to Troy and then he can't say I never do anything nice for him."

"I can't believe Troy hasn't come down to hijack you," Jack remarked.

"I'm a bit earlier than I said I would be, so he wouldn't be expecting me yet. And like he would have heard me arrive with the music up that loud," Gabriella said. "I don't know how he studies like that, but he claims it works for him."

"Go on up, you know the way," Lucille said, waving towards the staircase. "Would you like some earplugs?"

Gabriella laughed and called back as she headed towards the stairs, "I think I'll manage."

Standing outside Troy's door, the music was so loud that if she spoke out loud, she would barely have been able to hear herself speak. With a satchel over her shoulder, a textbook under her arm, a glass of water in her left and Troy's can of coke in her right hand, she slipped the can into her satchel so she could knock on the door to his room. She waited only a moment before opening the door – she and Troy were beyond the formalities of knocking and waiting politely to be granted access. And he probably would not have heard the knock anyway.

Gabriella was met by the sight of a wide eyed Troy, sprawled out on his bed, scrambling to pull up his boxers and cargo pants. She froze, freeze frame, still clutching onto the door handle as she stared at him, taking an additional moment to process just what it was that she had interrupted.

Troy sheepishly reached over for the remote, turning down the music from his stereo to a volume that facilitated conversation at a normal level.

"Umm… hi," he said awkwardly. "I swear I locked the door before…. before…"

"Umm… obviously not," Gabriella managed to say.

"Can I just say, thank God that you just came in and not my mom."

Gabriella's eyes were fixated upon the rather evident bulge underneath the khaki material. She somehow managed to clear her throat, step down into the room and close the door behind her. She set the glass of water down on the small dresser by the door which housed a lamp and a framed photograph of herself and Troy.

"So umm… you boys… you boys really do just go at it, like… at…. at any given time of day," Gabriella stammered, feeling rather embarrassed.

Troy coughed. "No, we're not that bad. I just uh… I was… feeling a bit… you know. And… and since you were coming over and we actually have plans to study and… and not to… you know. I thought maybe I should take care of the problem before you got here. Undoubtedly, your presence would have only exacerbated the issue."

Gabriella couldn't help but smile at Troy's tact. And he would criticise her for being unable to use direct terminology. When he was essentially saying I felt horny and decided to wank before you got here coz you being here just makes me hornier.

Gabriella picked up the glass of water and walked across the room to sit down at his desk. As she walked, she found herself speaking rather boldly, the words just flowing from her mouth.

"Well… don't allow my presence to prevent you from 'taking care of the issue', Troy."

Troy's eyes bore into her. "Pardon?" he squeaked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

She couldn't believe she'd just said the words herself, but suddenly as she contemplated it – it did sound rather interesting. "Well since you hadn't… finished 'taking care' of the problem, it's very clearly going to be an issue. And we actually do have a lot of work to get through and something tells me that this isn't going to help."

"It'll go away," Troy said, shifting uncomfortably. "Eventually. The math will help."

"You could just make it go away now."

"While you're here?" Troy asked incredulously, making sure he was interpreting her words correctly. "You… you want to watch?"

She shrugged. "Why not?"

She was attempting to sound breezy and casual but underneath it all, she was anything but. Troy was gaping at her, in a stunned silence.

"If it's going to be a performance anxiety issue," Gabriella teased.

"Uh… no, no. Likely the opposite," Troy confessed. He had no doubt that it would indeed likely be the opposite; and that Gabriella's presence would merely heighten the tension and possibly cause an embarrassingly speedy climax.

"Well if you're going to do it then I'd suggest you hurry up before your mom comes to check if we need anything and pointedly leaves the door open as she leaves the room."

Troy wasn't going to argue any further. The fact was that she was right – there was pent up tension, and being interrupted hadn't done anything to send it away. In fact being interrupted by the very object of his desires was merely intensifying the tension.

"Would you be a sweetheart and go back over and lock the door for me?"

Gabriella giggled, and within a flash she was across the room to pointedly flick the lock shut. "I think subconsciously you wanted me to walk in on you so that's why you didn't lock it."

Troy merely smiled. Gabriella settled herself back into the desk chair. He was quick to lift his weight from the bed so he could push down his trousers and red and white striped cotton boxers, freeing his erect length from its khaki prison. His girlfriend could not be more accurate with her prediction of his mother coming to check on them, he knew that it was inevitable. Lucille liked to wait about fifteen minutes, he suspected so that she gave the appearance that it was a casual enquiry rather than one designed to interrupt or prevent 'activity.' And so therefore, Troy wasn't aiming for a long leisurely wank. His focus was upon the final destination, so he promptly pushed his polo shirt up, reached under his pillow for his very own tube of personal lubricant, applied the adequate amount and grasped his hand around the base of his length.

"Lubricant... should I be using that?" Gabriella mused in a hushed tone. "Wait, don't answer now, I may wind up having lots of questions."

Troy let out half a chuckle at her remark. His first approach was to pretend she wasn't there. He simply closed his eyes as he grasped his hand around the base of his length, allowing the mental imagery to do its job. His slick lubricated hand sliding up and down, at first with a loose grip, then tightening just a little more. The mental imagery of the afternoon featured a naked Gabriella, glistening golden skin, with her delicate hand wrapped around his manhood.

Gabriella knew that wanking was something which teenage boys were a whole lot more at ease with than her own gender. It had been months ago, even before summer, when Troy had first made an innuendo filled comment supporting the notion that he was one of these teenage boys. But there was something very, very, very different about watching him in action. About observing his comfort with his own body, his knowledge and skill. His actions were certain and defined, indicating that he knew exactly what to do to bring about the desired result. His right hand concentrating on his shaft; temporarily switching from the typical fisted position she had been adopting, to what appeared to her as being rather awkward, his hand rotated and gripping at his length from the left. The escalation in his pants and grunts indicated that if the position was awkward as she suspected, it was the last thing from Troy's mind. His free left hand was leisurely toying with his balls, an area which Gabriella had been thus forth somewhat hesitant to experiment with.

The breathing pattern of the Gabriella in his mental imagery had changed from steady and calm, to somewhat ragged; at some point registering in Troy's brain that his fantasy had altered to mirror the very reaction of his Gabriella, the Gabriella who was very present. His eyes fluttered open, and became transfixed on the girl who was intently staring at him. He was mesmerised by the awe which filled her face. She was wide eyed, sitting forward, clutching to the arms of the desk chair. Her presence and her presence alone was enough to spur him through the final leg of the race.

Her soft, smooth legs which at present were clad with silky grey tights, her grey denim skirt riding higher on her thigh than usual. His eyes travelled up her body, drawing in a breath as he took in the way her royal blue cashmere sweater clung to her chest, the dip of the neckline providing a teasing glimpse at her cleavage. He admired the way her ebony curls tumbled down and framed the delicate features of her face. He could not only see but he could feel her soft, full glossy lips; he could feel them on his lips, on his chin, on his neck, on his nipples, on his stomach, and on the very manhood that he was so frantically pumping in a sudden frenzy.

It had been building quickly; in the minutes prior to her interruption, he had been devastatingly close already. But now, he considered her interruption as being a welcome interruption, because the feeling which was building inside was incredible, more incredible than usual. He was sweating, shaking slightly, his skin hot, with an indescribable swell of ecstasy rising within his pelvis. He was now frantically pumping, unbearably close. Troy was subconsciously aware that he needed to be censoring his verbal reaction – he'd had four years of training at the art – and was somehow holding himself back from an undulated groan of ecstasy, instead sufficing with quiet pants and groans, his facial contortions accommodating for the lack of vocal outburst. The final straw, the catalyst pushing him over the edge – was the ever slightest moan which escaped from Gabriella's mouth. That was all it took, the rising swell of pleasure culminating in those few seconds of unobliterated blissful ecstasy, his seed spurting over his abdomen.

Once again he allowed his eyes to flutter closed, savouring the moments of post orgasmic harmony. He lazily reached out for the Kleenex on his bedside table, cleaning up the mess and disposing the evidence into the garbage bin which was also conveniently placed within tossing distance. Once his erection had fully subsided, he was able to tuck himself away and pull up his trousers.

Troy looked up at his girlfriend, who was sitting in a stunned silence. He stood up, and flexed his wrists.

"Okay. Study time," Troy announced, repositioning his trousers.

He looked at her a little closer, noting her dreamy, faraway gaze which was fixated upon the very position where he had been lying just moments earlier. Her chest was heaving slightly as her breathing was still erratic.

"Gabriella?" Troy said questioningly, a smirk on his face. "You okay?"

She tore her gaze from the bed and instead allowed her eyes to meet his. "Uh huh. Great. More than okay."

Troy stepped toward her, taking her delicate hand within his grasp and pulled her to her feet. His middle and index finger came up to her chin, tipping her head up to look at him. Slowly, Troy leaned forward to press a tantalising kiss to her lips.

"That was really, really hot." Troy's lips grazed against her ear as he murmured breathily.

"Yes. Yes it was," Gabriella agreed, her own tone equally breathy.

"Still got your…"

"Yes, barely," she replied, her slight annoyance and lament evident.

"Barely?" Troy asked questioningly.

"Do you want to discuss the details it?"

"No, not really," he admitted. "Sorry… maybe this wasn't a good idea. Although I find it strangely satisfying that you actually found appeal in that."

"Appeal is understatement of the century." She took a breath. "Let's umm… let's just get to the study. My brain needs to be distracted."

Monica was rapping her fingers against the wooden table, her nails clicking against the surface, imitating the sound of a horse galloping. She stopped tapping her fingers in favour of picking up her phone, shuffling through the menu aimlessly. She then glanced at the time for the fourteenth time in three minutes.

"Hello."

Her head snapped up, hearing his calm, neutral voice greet her.

"H… hi," she stammered. "Thanks for coming."

"I'm the one who asked you if you would meet me here, remember?" Zeke pointed out. "I came into your work this afternoon, and…."

"Yes. I recall," she said softly. "Do you want to order something?"

"I'll get it," Zeke said swiftly.

"A white chocolate…"

"White chocolate mocha with a shot of vanilla?"

"You remembered."

"Course I do. Be right back."

And as Zeke approached the counter to place the order, she was left alone to continue with the fidgeting. The queue was reasonable, and it was less than five minutes before Zeke returned, placing her beverage in front of her, along with a sachet of raw sugar and a stirrer.

"So, how was your day?" Monica asked brightly.

"I didn't ask you here so we could make small talk," Zeke said bluntly.

"Then why are we here?"

"I need to know."

"Need to know what?"

"I need to know why. I realise that you wanted to tell me about it from when I called you two weeks ago and started shouting at you over the phone. But I wasn't ready then and now, I need to know why you did it. Why you picked him over me."

Monica paused, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Firstly – I didn't pick him over you, let's make that clear. I'm not going out with him," she said softly.

"You're not?" Zeke asked, genuinely surprised. "I just assumed…"

"You assumed wrong."

"Oh."

"Do you know what happened when Sammy and I were going out last year?" Monica queried.

"Um… not the details. I just know that you were going out and that you were really upset when you guys broke up."

She nodded. "I was. And… and it was a mutual break up. Things were just rough, we didn't have a lot of time for each other and being from rival schools, there was a lot of tension about a lot of stuff. We basically decided it was too hard. It shouldn't be that hard is what we figured. It should come easy if it was meant to work."

"Why are you telling me this?" Zeke asked impatiently.

Monica sighed. "About a week before… before that day. Sammy called me, just for a talk. We talked a bit over the week and, long story short, he wanted to give it another shot. I told him that it was over, that I was seeing you, that we were happy. He pointed out that we hadn't even hung out since we'd broken up and that he'd love it if we could just hang out, spend some time together. His argument was basically that if we hung out and I didn't feel anything then he would take my word for it and leave me be. And so we hung out. We made plans to hang out during my lunch break and then to meet up after work and hang out. This was when I told you I had a family thing on because… because I knew that you would be upset."

"Rightfully so it seems," Zeke commented bitterly.

"He kissed me at lunch. And… I didn't stop him."

Zeke's eyes narrowed. It took every ounce of self control to not interrupt her story, to not start shouting at her again.

"I think… I think there was a part of my brain which was telling me that if I could kiss him and really not feel that way then I would be proving it to myself that… that maybe you and I really can work. And then he walked me back to work and kissed me again…. Which you heard about. I met up with him after work, and you know what I did?"

"What?" Zeke practically spat out. "You slept with him?"

"No. I told him that I didn't feel it. Sammy is a great friend who I love spending time with. But… but what I feel for you… it's different. We've done the dance of flirtation for a while, since before I was with Sammy, you know that. And I know that it was my stupid fault for letting your stupid crush on Sharpay get in the way of pursuing anything for so long. But this time…. I wanted to do it right. And a part of that was getting closure with Sammy. And I know that I fucked up with it. I know that I shouldn't have lied to you in the first place about my plans for that weekend. I know that it wasn't exactly the best judgement to not stop him from kissing me in the first place and I lacked even more good judgement the second time. But for the record… it didn't mean anything. It proved to me that I am crazy about you. And I know I hurt you and… and I'm sorry."

Zeke closed his eyes for a moment. He picked up his mug of hot chocolate, taking a mouthful.

"Okay," he said simply.

"Okay? That's all you've got to say, okay?" Monica said, incredulously.

"What would you like me to say? Maybe if you wrote me a script then I would be able to appease you," Zeke said sarcastically.

"I don't know what I want you to say. Something… something other than okay, I guess."

"Thank you for meeting with me, and for telling me the truth. That's all I want for now." Zeke's voice was even and cold. He downed the remainder of his hot chocolate, carefully placed the mug back down and stood from his seat. "I'll see you Monday."

"Zeke," Monica called after him.

He paused, and reluctantly turned around. "What?"

"Do you think… Do you think we can work past this?"

He sighed. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I believe your story. But… but I just don't know if I can move past it."

Troy's backyard faced west, and in the afternoon on a nice day, it bathed in beautiful warm sunlight. After completing a large portion of their big physics project, as well as going over some math problems, Troy and Gabriella escaped into the backyard with their musical scripts in hand. Nothing like fresh air to instil inspiration within the creative soul.

It was just a week until their first full rehearsal of Once Upon A Time. Throughout the various rehearsals they'd been holding, each of the songs had been rehearsed, the majority of the scenes had been run through and they'd choreographed a significant portion of the dance routines. However Troy was experiencing flashbacks to Twinkle Towne. In the lead up to the show, while the seasoned performers and his girlfriend with the photographic memory were performing without a script, he didn't even know the first line of the scene. So an hour was spent going over a few of the key scenes that Troy was having particular problems with.

Once they were both all rehearsed out, Troy disappeared into the house, returning with a bowl of grapes, a jug of water and some glasses. They sprawled out on the grass underneath a maple tree, lying back and staring at the leaves as they rustled in the light breeze. Troy shifted onto his side, propping his head up with his arm, resting his head on his palm. His other hand lazily fell upon Gabriella's stomach, stroking languidly.

"So what is the plan for tonight?" he asked with a smile.

"You said you booked at some ridiculously overpriced restaurant, didn't you?" Gabriella asked, a smirk on her face.

"No, you added the 'ridiculously overpriced' part," Troy said, rolling his eyes. "And I told you that I got this sweet tip so it's fine. But after dinner I mean."

"Let's be spontaneous and just… see what happens," Gabriella declared

"Babe, you and I are two of the least spontaneous people on the planet."

"All the more reason to be spontaneous every once in a while."

"All right then. So tonight, we have plans to go to dinner and then we have planned to be spontaneous," Troy quipped.

Gabriella giggled. "That's right."

He broke a grape from the bunch, holding it up. Gabriella opened her mouth, waiting for the piece of fruit to come soaring through the air. Troy tossed it up, and it fell, bouncing off her cheek.

"I should practice this at home," she grumbled.

Troy smiled, and broke another grape off. He leaned over, popping the grape into her mouth. His fingers lingered slightly, grazing against her bottom lip. Gabriella sucked at the tip of his index finger slightly, before pulling away to chew and swallow the grape.

"Have you talked to Chad?" Gabriella asked cautiously.

"Since last night, I was at your place, then I was at work, after which point I felt a desperate need to wank and so disappeared into my room under the pretence of studying, and then you arrived. When was this miraculous Chad conversation supposed to take place?"

"No need to get shirty," she teased, poking him in the stomach.

"Sorry. And no. No I haven't. I don't even think I want to talk to him. What's to talk about?"

"Isn't that the point of talking? To find out what happened, to find out what there is to talk about?"

"I blame Taylor for all this, you know. Before Taylor, Chad was so simple, straightforward, called a spade a spade. Now, he's all moody and thoughtful and pretends that there's nothing wrong when I know that something is up."

"You blame Taylor? Ironically, Taylor has spent the last few weeks freaking about what is going on with him too."

"She has?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh."

Gabriella glanced at her cell phone. "Okay. I am going to go home and get ready. You said you were picking me up at 6:30?"

Troy nodded. "You sure you don't want me to give you a lift home? Or walk with you?"

"It's fine, really. I'll see you later," Gabriella murmured, pressing her lips to his one last time.

She turned around. "Troy?"

"Yeah?"

"You and I both know that this perfect date night you want to happen is not gonna take place when you're still feeling so negative about last night. Go talk to Chad."

Troy sighed. "Damn you for being right about everything."

Chad was rifling through his closet, searching in vain for his button down plaid shirt. He sighed in frustration, unable to find it anywhere. It wasn't in the laundry basket in the bathroom – mainly Jayme's stuff was in there – and it wasn't in the pile of dirty clothes in his room. He picked up his own clothes and added them to the laundry basket, and picked it up, storming down the stairs and into the laundry room. He put the basket down and proceeded to pilfer through the pile of laundry that was already in the machine waiting to be washed. Sure enough, there was his shirt. Chad picked it up, brought it up to his face and sniffed. He shrugged.

"It'll do," he said out loud to no one in particular.

Chad glanced back down, and put in as many clothes as would fit into the machine. It would never cease to amaze him how many changes of clothes his ten year old sister managed to go through. At least he had the excuse of being athletically active to explain why he went through more clothing. He tossed in laundry powder and twirled the dial, turning the machine on. The doorbell rang.

"JAYME!" Chad shouted. "CAN YOU GET THAT?"

Chad then opened up the dryer, scooping up a pile of clothes into his arms. The doorbell rang again. Chad sighed in exasperation, and with the armful of clothes, darted up the hallway and to the front door. He peered through the peephole, letting out a small sigh, before struggling to open the door.

"Bolton," Chad said cooly.

Troy looked Chad up and down, examining the pile of laundry with raised eyebrows. "Danforth."

"What do you want?"

"Can I come in?"

Chad shrugged. "I guess."

He turned around, and walked up the hall and into the living room, where he dumped the clothes by the ironing board.

"What's with the domestic spell?" Troy asked.

"Chores," Chad said, as though it were the most obvious explanation in the world.

Troy nodded. "Fair enough. I uh… I thought we should talk."

"What are we, a pair of chicks?"

"Don't be an ass man, I didn't exactly find coming here today to be the easiest thing in the world."

Chad relented. "Sorry."

"So what was last night all about?"

"You tell me."

"Given you were the one who spat the dummy…"

"Look… you were right. I overreacted a little. Truth is I've been a bit stressed lately about a bunch of stuff and I probably did just need to let off some steam," Chad said, trying to simplify the issue.

"Dude, I'm not totally oblivious to your moods. I knew something has been up your ass but… to be honest, I just figured that you didn't wanna talk about it," Troy said honestly.

"A year ago, you would have pushed me about it," Chad pointed out.

"Maybe," Troy conceded. "I also figured that maybe you were just talking to Taylor about stuff."

Chad snorted. "The fact that Taylor and I aren't exactly going brilliantly is a part of the problem, man."

"You aren't? I thought things were cool now."

"I dunno." Chad sighed. "We're going out tonight, I'm hoping we can try to sort some shit out."

"Oh. Okay then. Was there anything else going on?"

Chad paused. "Lots of little stuff. Nothing major. Mom's still upset about David leaving. My car keeps breaking down and so I'm doing an extra shift each week at the grocery store to pay to get shit fixed. Things are weird with Tay. School is a fucking nightmare, between my classes and the pressure from the guidance people. You're running around trying to be twelve people at once, Zeke is depressed and Jason… well, who ever knows with Jason, he won't even talk about what's happening with him and Kelsi."

"We're not here talking about me or Zeke or Jase."

Chad sighed. "I'm okay, Troy. I'm stressed out of my mind like everyone else, but I'm okay. I just lost it for a bit last night. It's cool. We're cool. Now… I'm actually really busy so if you don't mind…"

"Right. Got it. I'm out of here," Troy said with a curt nod. "Big date planned tonight myself anyway."

Chad was just standing with his arms folded over his chest.

"I'll let myself out then," Troy remarked.

Chad nodded. "Thanks for stopping by."

And he scooped up the load of laundry and walked away.

Gabriella had scoured over the dessert menu at the restaurant for ten minutes before deciding that what she really wanted was an ice cream sundae – an item they didn't have for offer on the menu.

"Ice cream it is then," Troy declared.

"See, this is spontaneity. I bet you didn't expect we'd wind up going to the ice cream parlour," Gabriella declared.

Troy smirked and grabbed the waiter as he passed, requesting their account be brought over. Troy narrowed his eyes as Gabriella went through the motions of opening her handbag and retrieving her purse.

"Don't even think about it," he said warningly.

Gabriella pouted but sensed that the argument was lost before it even began. As far as arguments went, it was one they held consistently, but it was an argument she didn't mind losing. It was like a game. When Troy hadn't been looking she left a twenty dollar bill on his backseat about a week earlier, only to have Troy return it to her the next time he saw her, sliding it into her jeans pocket as they were kissing.

"It's such a pretty night, why don't we walk? It's just up the street," Gabriella said, once they emerged from the restaurant.

Troy was more than agreeable, and hand in hand the young couple proceeded to stroll up the street. It was only a few minutes walk to the ice cream parlour. Troy and Gabriella were just across the street from the store, about to cross over, when Gabriella grabbed onto Troy's arm.

"Troy!" Gabriella hissed.

"Hmm?"

"Look!"

She gestured wildly inside the parlour, where Jason and Kelsi were sitting in one of the window booths. She took a giant spoonful of ice cream, in the process a little whipped cream attaching itself to the crook of her smile. Jason said something, and she brought her hand up to the opposite side of her mouth. He smiled and reached across, wiping at it gently with his index finger, licking the cream away.

"They're so cute!" Gabriella squealed.

"Jason you dog. He didn't even tell us they were going out again. Let's go say hi," Troy suggested.

"Maybe… maybe they don't want people to know they're seeing each other."

"Gabriella, they're sitting at a booth in the most popular ice cream store in town just after dinner time on a Saturday night. In the window I should add. If you're trying to hide a relationship or… or whatever is going on with them, that's not how to do it."

"Okay, I'll give you that," Gabriella conceded. "But I don't want to interrupt. Let's just go in and pretend we didn't see them."

Troy rolled his eyes but he wasn't going to argue with her. He pulled at the door handle, holding it open for Gabriella to step inside. He and Gabriella approached the counter, placing their orders. Gabriella won the argument that she was going to pay – after all, Troy paid for dinner which cost a whole lot more than two ice cream sundaes. They then turned around, examining the room in contemplation of which booth to nab.

"Gabriella!" Kelsi's voice rang out.

Gabriella and Troy looked over, seeing Kelsi waving excitedly and Jason smiling at them.

"Told you they'd want to say hi," Troy said under his breath.

"Hey, how you going?" Gabriella called out, as she and Troy approached.

"Sup guys," Troy greeted them, holding out his hand to Jason for a complicated teenage boy handshake.

"Do you want to sit?" Kelsi asked, shuffling down toward the window.

"Oh, we don't want to intrude," Gabriella said.

"No it's fine," Jason insisted. "Unless you guys wanted to be alone."

Troy sat down, sliding along to sit beside Kelsi. "Please, I spend nearly every waking hour with this one. I will revel in different company."

"Hey! That's not nice!" Gabriella exclaimed, mocking hurt.

"Eh, you love me," Troy said cockily.

"That can change if you keep being mean to me," Gabriella said teasingly.

"I'm sorry."

"And?"

"I'm sorry and I'll never be mean again."

"And?"

"I'm sorry, and I'll never be mean again, and you are very beautiful, and I love you?"

"Wow, you've been trained well, haven't you dude?" Jason remarked.

Kelsi giggled. "Gabriella, you'll have to give me pointers."

Meanwhile, Taylor and Chad were sitting across from one another in a local diner. They'd gone to the movies, catching an early screening, and were now having a late dinner. For an hour, they'd made small talk about the film they'd seen, drama class, talked about Zeke and Monica, and discussed the current season of American Idol. They'd avoided talking about anything real; Taylor hadn't even touched Chad blowing her off the previous night or his argument with Troy. The waitress returned with refills on their soft drinks, which then served as a welcome reprieve from forced conversation. Taylor was suddenly fascinated by the way she could swish her straw about and cause the ice cubes to move. Chad observed her restlessness, which only served to exacerbate his own restlessness.

"So have you decided about the yearbook committee yet?" Chad asked casually, desperate to engage Taylor in some type of conversation she would feel animated about.

Taylor shook her head. "Applications are open til Tuesday, I won't decide til after that."

"Oh."

Taylor's eyes shifted around the room, suddenly somewhat fascinated with the 1950's decor.

"So your debate is on Wednesday night huh? Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"Uh yeah, it's at Crossville High. It's short preparation, so we arrive and have two hours to prepare for it."

"What time is it at?"

"Debate starts at 6:30."

Chad bit his lip. "I should be able to come."

"You don't have to."

"No really, I want to," he insisted.

"Well… umm… yeah I guess you can come. You might find it boring."

"Come on, I know you don't exactly love basketball but you support me in that."

Taylor nodded, but didn't respond. She picked up the drinks menu on the table, scouring over the choices of liqueur.

"So did I tell you that I finally started working on one of my college applications," Chad said.

"You did? Which college?"

"UNM," Chad responded.

"Oh. Did you look at the paperwork I brought you back from Boston University?" Taylor asked.

"Um no I didn't, not yet. But… but I will," Chad said.

"This isn't working," Taylor blurted out.

Chad stared at her, blinking. "What, my college application method? If you really want me to look at the shit from Boston I can do it tonight, I…."

"This you and I Chad," Taylor clarified patiently. "Us, it's not working."

"I know it's been rough but…"

"I don't want to make a melodramatic scene out of this. The fact is that we both know that it's not working. Let's not pretend that it's been fine and that it's just a glitch in the transition from friends into more," Taylor said quietly.

Chad stared at her, feeling completely gob smacked. The fact was that he couldn't deny that things weren't brilliant between them. But he most certainly hadn't been planning to end the relationship. As long as he was in even a pseudo relationship with Taylor, he felt like there was a semblance of normalcy within his life. However it wasn't Chad's style to beg, and he knew Taylor enough to sense the finality in her tone.

"Okay," Chad said simply. "I can tell that you're serious. I guess I thought that maybe you also wanted to try to work things out but… if you don't, then that's cool."

Taylor was a little hurt. She had really anticipated that Chad would at least try to fight about it a little, argue for at least 60 seconds that she was being ridiculous and overreacting.

"I.. it's not that I don't want things to work out but I just don't see it happening right now. Everything is so crazy, we barely have time for one another, which isn't making the whole fixing the relationship thing easy. I think it's better we just admit it's going wrong now rather than keep pretending and then just totally fuck everything up even more."

He nodded. "Right then. I see."

"Are you okay?" Taylor asked quietly, reaching over to touch his hand. Chad retracted his hand from the table quickly, out of her grasp.

"I'm all good. Like you said, we both know it's not working."

"It's not."

"I know."

"Okay then."

"Okay I'm uh… I'm gonna go sort out the bill and I guess I'll take you home then."

"Here let me give you money for my half," Taylor insisted.

Often, they would banter for a while and Chad would eventually give in and let her pay at least a little. Normally he would swallow his pride on a day when he'd been to the ATM and attempted to withdraw fifty dollars and it wouldn't let him; he would then try forty dollars with no luck; finally thirty dollars would work. This time, he held his hand up.

"I've got it."

Chad entered his house after dropping Taylor off at home. He could hear the television blaring in the lounge room, and poked his head in. He found his mother asleep on the couch, the packaging from her TV dinner still on the coffee table along with the dregs of a glass of wine. He reached over for the remote to flick off the TV. Chad then grabbed a throw blanket that was scrunched up on the armchair, and carefully spread it over his mother's sleeping body. He picked up the wine glass, cutlery and garbage, taking them to the kitchen.

He trudged up the stairs to his room, knocking on Jayme's door along the way.

"Come in," Jayme called.

Chad poked his head in, observing his sister tucked into bed, reading a novel. "Just checking in."

Jayme smiled. "Hey BB. Just reading before bed."

Chad grinned at Jayme's nick name, being a shortened form of 'big brother.' "Don't stay up too late."

"I won't."

"Good night."

He closed the door quietly and trudged down to his own room. Immediately he was met by the sight of dozens of school books and papers and college prospectus information that he had thrown onto the bed that afternoon. The theory was that if it physically impeded his ability to sleep, then maybe he might take notice of some small amount of the information. He perched on the edge of the bed and proceeded to sort through the piles of stuff.

He was upset, granted. He'd entered into the relationship with Taylor with fairly high hopes. And for a while, it really had felt right.

But at that moment in time – Chad felt relieved. He felt relieved because as much as he wanted everything to work out with Taylor, he didn't have the energy within to fix it. It was taking every bit of energy just to get through the day, without dealing with complicated relationship issues which he knew were largely self inflicted. But you lie in the bed you make, so they say.

He took a deep breath, and picked up the college prospectus for Boston University, flipping straight to the post it noted athletics section.

Meanwhile Taylor was sitting in front of her dresser, methodically brushing her hair. Ten strokes on the right, ten strokes on the left, ten strokes at the back, repeat. She went over to her desk to sit in front of her laptop. She switched on the power button and as she waited for it to load, she flipped open her Physics textbook to begin with the reading they had been assigned.

A knock came at her bedroom door.

"Honey?" Mrs McKessie called through the door.

"Come in," Taylor called, and swirled around in her desk chair.

Her mother came in, taking a seat on her bed. "Just checking in."

"Oh. Yes. Hello, I'm here," Taylor said with a smile.

"You're home early. A whole two hours before curfew," her mother remarked with raised eyebrows.

Taylor shrugged. "Uh huh. No big deal."

"Is everything okay with you and Chad?"

Taylor hesitated before lying through her teeth, "Fine, really."

"Okay then, I'll leave you to your homework. Good night honey."

"Night mama."

The bedroom door closed in a soft click as her mother departed the room. Taylor swung back around in her desk chair. Her laptop had finished loading. Her desktop wallpaper was staring back at her. Her desktop wallpaper being a photo of her and Chad from over summer. She closed the laptop with a sudden vigour. Her eyes were suddenly filled with tears. Feeling numb, Taylor walked over to her neatly made bed, pulled back the comforter, and collapsed beneath the warmth of the material. She clutched her fluffy brown teddy bear to her chest, and she wept.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Bites fingernails. Review please... - Dani xo