The Lights Shine, Just for Me and You
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, or High School Musical. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Part One: Fifteen
Chapter Nine: Over My Head
Despite the drama between her friends, life falls into a routine for Gabriella. She attends school, attends training sessions for the Cheerios and planning sessions with the Brainiacs, does her homework, spends time with her NOnna, with Troy, and with her friends. The guys, mostly, or Taylor when she's not attached at the hip with Martha. Sometimes, she hangs out with Kelsi, with Ryan or without, but rarely does she hang out with Santana and Brittany, who spend most of their weekends with Quinn these days.
It's sad, in a way, because it's only been a few weeks since the start of term, but things change - people change - and that's life, and Gabriella can only accept the facts. Santana and Taylor aren't talking to each other anymore, and Chad and Taylor aren't either. They no longer hang out as a group - excepting Gabriella and the guys, that is - and neither do any of them make any effort to do so.
They don't even seem to miss the way things used to be - the guys, that is - and Gabriella can't tell if it's genuine, or if it's their way of acting tough; as if feelings, and failing friendships, and whatever else doesn't mean a thing to them. Maybe it's something else entirely - maybe they'd never cared for Santana and Taylor and Brittany the same way they cared for each other, the same way Gabriella cared for all of them - but whatever the case, Gabriella doesn't have the nerve to ask them about it.
She's not sure she'd be able to deal with the answer.
"I got a job," she informs Troy, "Just at the diner. Nothing special, but I'll have some money to spend, you know? They want me to come in after training so I can sort out the paperwork and everything. It's kind of crazy."
"Congratulations," Troy replies sincerely. He wraps her up in a hug, and they share a lingering, celebratory kiss, "It's crazy, but it's exciting, too. I'm happy for you."
"Thanks," she says, and holds both of his hands in hers, "We'll have to try sync up our schedules."
Troy nods his agreement. He's already started the coaching gig at the elementary school, which keeps him busy on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. It's pre-season training, mostly, getting his teams into a decent training routine, and familiar with playing in a team dynamic and whatnot, but soon, he'll be busy with games on Saturday mornings, too. Between that, and his commitment to McKinley High's basketball and debating teams - not to mention his classwork - he doesn't have a lot of free time.
Gabriella can relate though. The Cheerios and Brainiacs keep her just as busy as the Wildcats and McKinley High's debating team, Forward Motion, keep Troy, and the addition of her job will only occupy more of her free time.
It's okay, though. As she'd already realised, the work experience will do her some good, and the workload is by no means overwhelming.
Not yet, anyway.
"Maybe try to keep Sundays free?" Troy suggests.
"That's what I was thinking, too," Gabriella replies, "It's sort of become our day, hasn't it?"
"Seems like it." He twines their fingers together between them, and swings their linked hands from side to side, "And I can come visit you at work."
"You just want cheap chilli fries. I'm so onto you, Sparky."
"You caught me," Troy deadpans, "It's all about the chilli fries."
"See if I serve you any, Bolton."
"You're a cruel, cruel mistress." He tickles her side, and Gabriella squirms away from him, giggling.
Their peers take notice, but most of them turn away, disinterested, and Gabriella pays no heed to the rest. She fools around with Troy instead, playing an impromptu game of chase around the school's water fountain, laughing, teasing, having a good time before they're required in their respective homerooms.
That is, at least, until they're approached by Mike Chang, Matt Rutherford, and two of their friends.
Gabriella likes Mike and Matt. Mike's on the Brainiacs with her, and despite the fact he's also on the McKinley High football team, he's nice. He's intelligent, too, with a dry, subtle sense of humour, and an easy-going, laid back attitude towards school, and extra-curricular activities, and the high expectations of exacting, migrant parents.
Mike's best friend, Matt Rutherford, meanwhile, is a member of Forward Motion alongside Troy, and he's somehow even quieter than Mike. Just as easy-going, just as intelligent, just as weighed down by peer pressure and uncomfortable expectations, but he doesn't let it - them? - wear him down. He just keeps on keeping on, playing football, debating, working hard in school, and in some respects, it's admirable.
Relatable, too, but that's another matter entirely.
"Trouble in paradise?" Mike quips. He drapes an arm over Gabriella's shoulders, and offers them both a grin, "Do you need me to whisk you away, Montez?"
"I wouldn't," Troy opines. He leans against the edge of the water fountain, and offers Matt a fist bump. Puckerman and Hudson are acknowledged with a wordless head nod. "Unless you don't mind paying full price for chilli fries."
"Full price? Outrageous!"
Gabriella shrugs away from her place under Mike's arm, props herself beside Troy, and replies nonchalantly, "A girl's gotta earn a living, you know."
"It's a hard life," Matt concurs, straight-faced.
As Gabriella claps her delight, Mike splutters, laughing, and Troy rolls his eyes with a fond, indulgent grin on his face. Matt watches the byplay with a fond smirk, but close by, Noah Puckerman and Finn Hudson are oblivious. They're in quiet conversation between themselves, their voices low, but their expressions open and unguarded, their gestures expansive and animated.
Troy asks, "What's that about?"
Mike grimaces. "You don't want to know."
With the unhappy, unsettled expressions on MIke's and Matt's respective faces, Troy and Gabriella don't argue. Instead, they turn their conversation to other things - movies and TV shows, music, their classes and classmates - and it isn't until she catches sight of Santana that Gabriella's attention is diverted from a discussion regarding their theories of season 4 of Supernatural - in particular, the fate of Dean Winchester - that is due to be aired the following evening.
Santana is headed towards the front doors, predictably accompanied by Brittany and Quinn, and also by a handful of their fellow freshman Cheerios. She and Quinn each nurse slushies and mischievous, conspiratorial grins, and as Gabriella realises - with a dawning sense of shock - what's about to happen, a lead weight drops somewhere around the vicinity of her knees.
-!- -#-
Gabriella hears about it all day. Taylor's outraged and angry, Chad, Zeke, and Jason are nonplused, at a loss, and unsure of what to think. Troy's perturbed - Gabriella is too - and it seems to be what everyone else is talking about. Santana Lopez and Quinn Fabray slushied Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones, unabashedly and unapologetically, and according to onlookers, it was amazing.
"Did Satan tell you they were planning it?" Chad asks her over lunch. Santana and Brittany are sitting with most of the other Freshman Cheerios, undoubtedly regaling everyone with the event in question. Gabriella joins them on occasion, but her teammates' curiosity regarding her relationship with Troy grew tiresome weeks ago, and after that morning, Gabriella's not sure she can stomach the conversation.
Taylor, meanwhile, sits with Martha at another table, accompanied by a few more of their fellow 'academically-focused' classmates. Gabriella sits with them too, on occasion, but most of them are discomforted by her involvement with the cheerleading team, and as such, Gabriella doesn't exactly feel welcome among them.
Gabriella grimaces. "No."
"She probably knew you wouldn't be okay with it," Zeke opines.
"Probably," Gabriella concurs, "I have no idea what I'll say to her later."
The guys glance between themselves, and then they each shrug. They have no idea, either.
"You can always just not talk to her at all," Chad says blandly, "Seems like it's going around."
"Dude," Jason shakes his head, unimpressed by Chad's input, "Not cool, man."
Gabriella rolls her eyes, scowling at Chad. "That's not funny, Danforth."
Chad shrugs, unruffled. "Just a suggestion."
"Yeah," Zeke opines, "A dumb one."
Chad pulls a face in Zeke's direction, and gives him the finger. "Screw you, Baylor."
Zeke shrugs, unfazed. "I'm just telling it how it is, dude."
"Yeah, well I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas."
"That's why I didn't say anything," Zeke deadpans. As he does so, Jason, a couple of seats down from him gives a long-suffering sigh, rolls his eyes, and turns his complete attention to his lunch.
Meanwhile, although Troy doesn't take his wary gaze off Zeke and Chad, beneath the table, he nudges Gabriella's knee with his own. "Try not to worry about it. Things will work themselves out."
In turn, Gabriella's dubious, but nonetheless, she replies, "I hope so."
-!- -#-
The thing is, Gabriella isn't angry. She feels guilty, on behalf of Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones, and she's disappointed that Santana had chosen to do it, but she's not angry.
She just… SHe's not sure what to do in the wake of it all. She doesn't approve of Santana's actions, doesn't understand why Santana feels the need to tear other people down, but she isn't sure confronting her friend about it is the solution.
Except, she can't ignore it, either. She can't just pretend it never happened, that Santana hadn't just soundly humiliated someone - or multiple someones - to make herself look cool, or to fit in with her new friends, or whatever. In any case, having it out in front of their fellow Cheerios isn't high on Gabriella's priority list, so she proceeds with her usual pre-training routine instead, and then joins Brittany on the training mats.
"You look down," Brittany observes. Without ado, she wraps Gabriella up in a hug, and queries, "What's wrong?"
Gabriella shrugs, but she returns the hug gratefully, and queries, "What did you think of the slushie thing?"
Brittany frowns. "I didn't like it, but San does everything Quinn does, and there was no stopping them. I tried, though, but Quinn thinks I'm an idiot, so it's not like she'll ever listen to me."
"Her loss," Gabriella replies, and reaches out to squeeze both of Brittany's hands in her own. "Don't let her bring you down, Brit. She's not worth that."
Brittany offers her a half-hearted smile, but she twines her fingers through Gabriella's, and her grasp is firm, "It's fine. I might not like school like you and Tay, but I know I'm smart."
"Damn right," Gabriella agrees emphatically. Although her friend acts like she lives permanently in the clouds, Brittany is one of the most intuitive, observant people Gabriella knows, "And don't you ever forget it."
Disentangling their hands, they start stretching, chatting about their lessons that day, about Gabriella's new job, about Brittany's dance classes. She's enrolled in a handful of them - Ballet, Tap, Jazz, and Hip-Hop - and she's excited and animated and passionate about what she's learning; more so than anything she's been studying in McKinley High.. It's a pleasant sight to see - for more reasons than one - and therefore, Gabriella's somewhat disappointed when their conversation is derailed by the approach of Santana and Quinn.
"Hey," Gabriella greets them politely. With her legs straight, she reaches down to press her palms to the floor. Her hamstrings protest. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Santana replies. She and Quinn join them in stretching, "Haven't seen you all day. What's up with you?"
"Nothing," Gabriella echoes. She straightens up and works on stretching her arms, "You ditched this afternoon's Study Hall though. Where'd you go?"
"Computer labs," Santana explains, "Hung out on Facebook, mostly. You and Troy still haven't changed your relationship status."
Gabriella shrugs, indifferent, and reasons, "It's not a priority, I guess. We haven't even talked about it."
"But doesn't Facebook, like, make it official or whatever?" Santana wonders.
Gabriella shrugs, "I don't need to be validated by a status on Facebook, and Troy's never even on there, so I don't think he cares much either way. Besides, it's only been a month."
Santana huffs a laugh. "It feels like it's been longer. You guys have been dancing around each other for so long, I guess it's easy to forget…"
"How is it, anyway?" Brittany wonders, "You haven't said much."
"We're happy," Gabriella replies, shrugs uncertainly, and admits, "I don't really know what else to say."
"Is he a good kisser?" Brittany wonders. Her expression is good-natured, her smile light, and Gabriella grins despite the blush on her face.
"Yeah, he is. Really good."
Coach Sylvester arrives before Brittany, Santana, or Quinn can pry further. She calls them to order with a blow of her whistle, and what follows is yet another demanding, rigorous training session under the woman's critical, exacting scrutiny. Gabriella's exhausted by the time it's over, and having it out with Santana is about the last thing on her mind.
Santana, though…
"Hey, Gabs, what's going on? I feel like you're avoiding me."
"I'm not avoiding you," Gabriella answers wearily. She shuts her locker, tugs her blouse on over her bra, and approaches the mirrors to apply a light layer of makeup, "I guess we've both just been busy, you know? I don't even think I've had a chance to tell you I've got a job."
Santana's silent for a long moment. "I guess everything's changing, hey?"
Gabriella huffs an inaudible laugh. "You're telling me."
Santana frowns, props herself against one of the sinks, defensively crosses her arms over her chest, and frowns. "What do you mean?"
Gabriella glances at her askance, but then turns her gaze back to her reflection. "The slushies, San? You'd have never done that six months ago."
"God," Santana rolls her eyes, "You too? It was nothing, what the hell?"
"Yeah, I'm sure Rachel Berry and Mercedes Jones thought it was nothing, too," Gabriella replies, tone droll. "Whatever, San, you do whatever you want. I don't want to fight with you about it. I'm tired of fighting, and besides, I have to go."
"Troy's waiting?" Santana asks. Gabriella's sure she doesn't imagine the mocking tone.
"No, actually," she replies, "He and the guys are hanging out. If I miss my bus, though, I'll probably be out of a job before I can even start it. I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."
Gathering up her bags, she waves at Brit as she heads towards the doors. Her friend returns the gesture, and Gabriella makes her way towards the bus stop in front of McKinley High. SHe's accompanied by a cluster of football players and her fellow cheerleaders during her wait, but her bus arrives a few minutes after she does, and Gabriella boards it quickly.
As far as Gabriella is concerned, the sooner she can leave behind the buzzing tension beneath her skin - brought about by her not-quite confrontation with Santana - the better.
