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 Twelve: Happy Birthday

The next few weeks pass by in a blur of school, of homework and extra-curricular activities and Gabriella's new job. She partakes in cheer routines at every football game, smashes the competition at every Academic Decathlon meet, grows familiar with the employee system at Tom's Diner. She stays on top of her schoolwork by the miracle of micro-managing her time, avoids her parents when they're in town, spends her Sundays with Troy, wherein they attempt rock climbing, paintball, and attend the county fair, respectively.

Before she knows it, it's the 4th of October, Troy's birthday, and Gabriella's sort of freaking out. Not because she hasn't bought him a present - she has, actually, and a couple at that - but because it's the first special occasion since they've gotten together, and Gabriella's anxious to make sure it's noteworthy. Nothing so cliched as taking their relationship to places neither of them are at all ready for, but memorable all the same… At least until the next one.

They text in the morning, wherein Gabriella sends him a cheerful 'Happy Birthday!' They chat, too, about birthday presents and Troy's plans for the morning - Chad, Zeke, Jason, Mike, Matt, and Ryan are going over for video games and lunch - but she eventually leaves him to enjoy breakfast with his parents without disruption, and shuffles downstairs in pursuit of her own meal.

Her nonna is already in the kitchen, predictably, and Gabriella joins her for a continental breakfast of sliced fruits, yoghurt, and jam on toast. There's coffee, too, and Gabriella sips hers contentedly, as Nonna updates Gabriella on the lives of her aunts, uncles, and cousins. They're spread all over the US, Gabriella only ever sees them once a year, and every time she does, there's always a new baby to meet.

Case in point: Gabriella's youngest aunt, Zia Isabella, is eight months pregnant, and the plan is to meet the baby over Christmas.

Eventually, her nonna runs out of gossip to share, and makes herself comfortable in the living room, intent on catching up on her shows. Gabriella, meanwhile, reluctantly starts clearing away the breakfast dishes, sings to herself as she does so, and is therefore startled as Her phone buzzes to life on the dining table.

It's a text from Taylor, asking if she's able to drop by Gabriella's place for a couple of hours before lunch.

Gabriella, puzzled but nonetheless amenable, receives permission from her nonna, responds to Taylor with her confirmation, and then returns to her chores. She cleans her room and bathroom as well, throws on a load of laundry, and is combing her hair after her shower when Taylor knocks on her bedroom door, hesitant.

"Come on in," Gabriella calls. She throws her towel over her desk chair, leaves her hair to air dry, and flops onto her bed as Taylor walks in, closes the door behind her, and props herself gingerly on the edge of Gabriella's mattress.

"Hi," Gabriella greets her.

"Hey," Taylor replies, "Thanks for letting me come over. Especially on such short notice."

Gabriella shrugs. "It's fine. I don't have plans until this afternoon, so it's not like you were interrupting anything."

Normally, she'd have a shift at the diner for most of the day, but she's usually exhausted afterwards, so she'd opted to swap shifts with one of her new coworkers. It means she's working on Sunday morning instead, from 6 to 12, but at least she won't be completely wrecked during Troy's birthday dinner.

"Troy's birthday," Taylor acknowledges, "What are you guys up to?"

"Troy and his parents invited me to join them for dinner," Gabriella explains, "We're going to Texas Roadhouse."

"Is it weird?" Taylor wonders, "Hanging out with his parents, I mean."

"At first, it was kind of weird," Gabriella concedes, "Not so much anymore. They don't treat me any differently then they used to, so…"

"That's good," Taylor acknowledges. She fusses with her fingernails, bitten down to the quick, and casts her gaze over Gabriella's room. She's packed away a lot of things - her stuffed animals, her posters, her middle school certificates and trophies, all of the silly bits and pieces she'd accumulated over the years.

Gabriella watches Taylor as she takes in the minimalist-themed changes, and she idly wonders what the other girl thinks of them all.

"Is everything okay, Taylor?"

Taylor shrugs, gives a self-deprecating laugh, and smiles feebly at Gabriella. "As well as they can be, I guess."

"What's Martha up to today?"

"She's spending the weekend with her dad in Dayton," Taylor replies.

Gabriella tries not to, but with Martha out of town, she wonders if she's a last resort for company. It's unkind, maybe, but it's not as though Taylor has made much of an effort to maintain ties outside of Academic Decathlon meetings. They no longer sit together in the classes they share, they rarely talk about matters beyond school and the Brainiacs, and Taylor still hasn't apologised about the things said during that last disastrous lunch they'd had as a group. That said, how can she not think it?

"So what have you been up to?"

"Not much," Taylor replies, "You know I'm part of the school newspaper?"

"I didn't, actually," Gabriella replies, "How do you like it?"

"It's okay," Taylor concedes, "I'm not allowed to write about a lot of the things I want to, so that kind of sucks. I started a blog though, and I can talk about whatever I want on that, so that's cool. It doesn't have a lot of followers yet, but I'm enjoying it."

"That's awesome," Gabriella replies sincerely, "What do you write about?"

"Feminism, mostly. What it means to me, where it's present in my daily life, where it isn't, things like that."

"I'll have to check it out; Unless you don't want me to?"

"You're welcome to," Taylor assures her, "I'll send you the link when I get home."

"Cool," Gabriella acknowledges, "I'll look forward to it."

Taylor smiles briefly, but she turns the conversation to Gabriella quickly. "What about you? What have you been up to, aside from the obvious?"

"Well, you know I've got a job. Other than that, I haven't really been up to anything new. Just, you know, same old, same old."

Gabriella doesn't mention her issues with her parents. Taylor's parents have been omnipresent in her life since day one, and she wouldn't understand. Moreover, although she'd mean well, she'd want to advise Gabriela on the best way to resolve those issues, and quite frankly, Gabriella doesn't want to hear it. She's still too angry, perhaps, but it is what it is, and besides, it's not as though Taylor's been much of a friend, of late.

"My life is pretty boring," she concludes with a shrug, a self-deprecating smile on her face.

Taylor huffs another rueful-sounding laugh. "It's a lot more interesting than mine."

Gabriella's not necessarily sure she agrees. They're in high school, caught in the daily grind of classes and homework and extra-curricular activities, and none of it is interesting in a way that makes her noteworthy, or whatever. She has a job, and she has Troy, but those aren't interesting either. They just are, in a way Gabriella's not sure she can really explain.

She's not even sure she wants to. It's not a competition - Gabriella doesn't want anyone comparing their lives to her own, least of all Taylor - and she has no interest in getting drawn into a discussion regarding the matter, either. Not any more than she already has, that is.

Instead, she reaches over to press 'play' on her docking station, and Jose Gonzales filters quietly from her speakers. The girls fall into a thoughtful, companionable silence, but it's soon broken by Taylor.

"Do you ever miss the way things were?"

"I did," Gabriella admits with a shrug, "Sometimes I still do. But I guess I've gotten used to it. Is that why you're here? Because you miss how things used to be?"

Taylor shrugs. "I guess everything happened so quickly. Sometimes I can't even wrap my head around it. How did it all just… Fall apart?"

Gabriella's responding smile is mirthless. "I wish I knew."

-!- -#-

When Mr McKessie collects Taylor, he offers to drop Gabriella off at Troy's, and Gabriella accepts with only a moment's hesitation. Her nonna doesn't drive, and if she can avoid cycling there, she'll do so gladly. Besides, since they have to drive passed Troy's to get to their own home, it's not as though it's out of their way.

Taylor's dad spends the trip catching up on Gabriella's life, on school and her friends and family. In turn, Mr McKessie regales her with anecdotes from his work as a driving instructor, and Gabriella's in stitches by the time he pulls up at Casa Bolton.

"Thanks for the lift, Mr Mac," she says to the man, "And thanks for the company today, Taylor. I guess I'll see you around?"

Taylor offers her a nod-smile-shrug thing, and Gabriella tries not to think too deeply into what that could possibly mean. She shuts the car door instead, waves as they pull away from the curb, and makes her way to the front door as the McKessie's car continues on down the street.

Troy awaits her at the front door, expression bemused. He'd not expected to see her dropped off by Mr McKessie.

"Happy Birthday," Gabriella greets him. They hug, and conscious of the people inside, Gabriella presses a brief kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks," Troy acknowledges. He accepts the two wrapped gifts she offers him, and gestures her inside. "You were hanging out with Taylor?"

"Yeah," Gabriella confirms, frowns briefly, and shrugs, "She wanted to come over. It was… Weird."

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Gabriella assures him. She follows him into the kitchen, where Mr and Mrs Bolton are elbows deep in paperwork at the dining table. They both greet her kindly, the three of them chit-chat briefly, but Troy soon ushers her out of the dining area, and into the living room.

Chad's there, contentedly chowing down on a bowl of chips, but he offers her a wave, and Gabriella returns it in kind.

"So how has your birthday been?"

"So far, so good," Troy replies. They sit together on the two-seater, and Troy continues, "Ryan crushed us all in Call of Duty, which was a surprise."

"Still can't believe it," Chad opines with a rueful shake of his head, "It was brutal."

"You should see him on DDR," Gabriella counters. She's frequented the arcade with Ryan and Kelsi often since they'd become friends - and they're definitely friends these days - and Ryan's skill at the game is unreal. "Kelsi and I never stand a chance."

"I think I'll pass," Chad answers mildly. "What was that you were saying about Taylor?"

Gabriella rehashes the events of her morning in more detail, though she doesn't go into depth regarding what she and Taylor had talked about. Mostly, she wonders about Taylor's reason for reaching out, but neither Troy nor Chad have any definitive answers.

"Maybe she just missed you," Chad says with a disinterested shrug. He has no desire to mend fences with Taylor, though Gabriella can't blame him. In his position, she probably wouldn't want to, either.

In any case, Gabriella's not convinced. She's sure Taylor had another reason - maybe had something important to tell her - but she nods, because the opportunity has been lost, and as such, it's not as if it matters now. "Yeah, maybe she did."

Troy nudges her lightly. "I'd miss you."

"Dude," Chad grouses, an exaggerated look of disgust on his face. As he does so, Gabriella laughs, palms Troy's face, and offers him a fond, indulgent smile.

"You're a cheeseball, Bolton."

Troy shrugs, unabashed and unapologetic. "I try."

They settle down, and conversation between the three of them drifts from their friends, to their classes, to their extra-curricular activities. Chad's started tutoring middle schoolers in English and History, and he's animated and passionate as he talks about it, about his tutees, and how rewarding it is when they learn and understand a concept they've previously struggled with. Troy's similarly enthusiastic about coaching basketball, but he's still determined that he won't pursue the sport - in any way, shape, or form - after college, and Chad and Gabriella know better than to bring up the possibility.

"Maybe you should become a teacher," Troy suggests.

Chad shrugs. "Maybe."

"We've got a long time to decide all of that," Gabriella contributes.

"Very true," Troy agrees.

Rather than discuss the future, they talk about the party Gabriella and Troy hadn't attended the night before, about the WMHS drama that had unfolded therein, about Chad's thoughts and observations regarding their friends and classmates at the party in question. Santana and Brittany had attended, Jason and Zeke as well, and they'd all been varying degrees of intoxicated by the end of the night.

"Santana was out of control," Chad says solemnly, "Zeke practically carried her out of the house because she was dancing with these Seniors, and I don't think they gave a shit about the fact she's only 14. Then she started Exorcist style vomiting all over the lawn, and it was…" Chad shakes his head, lost for words, "It was crazy, man."

Gabriella frowns, and she doesn't understand the appeal of such parties, of out of control behaviour and alcohol and everything else.

she glances at Troy, who is morbidly intrigued despite himself, and she's not sure she ever will.

-!- -#-

Gabriella's presents to Troy are a 'Vote For Pedro' T-shirt, a guitar pick looped on a chord with 'I pick U' embossed on the front, and a pair of premium tickets to see any movie he wants at their local cinema. He laughs at the guitar pick every time he sees it, but he gladly wears it around his neck, insists they watch 'Napoleon Dynamite' in commemoration of his new T-shirt, and books her in for a dinner (though lunch, perhaps, is more likely) and a movie kind of date the following weekend.

Troy's enthusiasm for his gifts is gratifying, and caught up in her exhilaration, Gabriella deepens Troy's resulting kiss, tangles her tongue with his, curls her arms around his neck to draw him closer. He'd made them both stand so he could hug her properly, and he tightens his arms around her now, pulls her firmly against his chest, and runs his restless hands up and down her back, tangles his fingers in the ends of her hair, and settles his palms at her waist when they reluctantly part to breathe.

"I'm glad you like your presents," she says once coherent thought returns to her. She's still wrapped up in Troy's arms, stood in the middle of his bedroom, and he sways them both to the quiet strains of Bon Iver that filter from Troy's speakers, "Have you enjoyed your birthday?"

"I've had the best day," Troy replies, a contented smile on his face. She can feel him hard against her hip. It's not a foreign feeling - they've made out enough times for her to grow used to it - but this time, she's tempted to take things further - to maybe see Troy come undone - but she restrains herself. Troy's bedroom door is open, his parents have been checking in on them randomly since Chad had left, and Gabriella wouldn't be able to stand the mortification of being caught doing anything the elder Boltons would disapprove of.

"As you should have," Gabriella acknowledges, "And it's only going to get better."

Troy hums his agreement. "Thank God, too. I'm starving."

"Of course you are."

Troy shrugs unapologetically. "I'm a growing boy."

"Yeah, yeah," Gabriella flops onto Troy's bed, and her boyfriend slouches into his desk chair, "If only we all had bottomless stomachs like you."

"I've seen you pack away an entire pizza by yourself," Troy counters, "I'm not sure why you're complaining."

"That was a good night," Gabriela reminisces fondly. It had been Brittany's 13th birthday, and they'd spent the afternoon and evening marathoning Disney movies. None of the boys had been allowed to spend the night, but the rest of them - Gabriella, Brittany, Taylor, and Santana - had stayed up until the early hours of the following morning, talking and dancing and playing stupid games, and then they'd slept passed noon. "I don't think I could manage that again, though."

"Guess we'll have to find out sometime."

Gabriella is noncommittal. "Maybe."

Troy doesn't push the matter. It's not important, and as Mrs Bolton informs them that it's time to leave from Troy's open bedroom doorway, he's suddenly more interested in the dinner ahead of them than a potential one in a vague, unclear future.

"Ready to go?" Troy asks her.

Gabriella gathers up her small purse, and offers him a bright smile. "You bet."