-1Title: Action and Reaction
Rating: Teen
Summary: Troy chooses the path that will take him to the end.
Warnings: Nada.
Notes: This took forever, but what can you do? RL is killer. College is evil. The good news is that we've only got one more chapter and the epilogue, then we're FINALLY done. Stick with me here, it's about to get really dramatic.
Disclaimer: I own it like I own Santa.
Chapter Eight: Chaos
Where he'd had an out before, albeit a rather small one, there was none now.
Sharpay was locked in her room, dangerously silent. She could get loud when she was angry, and her language was often colorful, but she was always vocal and he knew where he stood. When she yelled at him and belittled him and made him feel like the scum he was, he knew he could apologize, buy her lots of flowers and profess his undying love for her on his knees. When she was angry he was safe, if not bruised. When she was silent, he was in danger. Danger meant he was afraid to sleep, because she could make sure he had an unfortunate accident with a pillow and died in his sleep of asphyxiation. She was that scary when she was silent.
Chad couldn't be reached again, which probably mean he'd already shipped out. Really, an hour later Troy hadn't exactly expected a response from his cell phone, but by now the devise was on its way to being confiscated by the united states military. He'd check back in about sixteen months.
He'd thought Ryan arriving home would help him with Sharpay. He'd been wrong, because karma was just, and after being threatened with bodily harm, Troy stood back and watched the blond speak in hushed tones through his sister's door. Ryan was attempting to talk her out of the room, and part of Troy knew that probably wasn't the smartest idea ever. After she calmed down and accessed the situation, there was a strong possibility the fiercely beautiful woman would come after him with a cleaver.
He was trapped between the proverbial rock and hard place. The world was spinning out of control, not for the first time, but the longest. He was stuck on a never ending carnival roller coaster, sick to his stomach and he wanted off now. He felt like he was going to hurl.
Troy weighed his options carefully, all too aware his next move would be his last. There were no do overs, no second chances, no near misses. He could spend the rest of his day, and next apologizing to a woman who probably had cotton jammed in her ears and a machete sharpened, ready for battle. He could sulk, pout, then shower her with affection, attention and pray to almighty god that she left the subject of Gabriella alone. He could then go home and hope his relationship held up- and she decided to fly out to see him in six weeks.
Or he could cup his crotch, shave his face, suck it up, and go find Gabriella. He could risk having Sharpay in his life, once and for all. This of course also poised the possibility of ending up a sad little man, living alone with many, many people hating his guts. That would certainly make his ten year reunion fun. Either way he was pretty screwed, that was no secret.
He moped around for the better half of the day before grabbing his winder breaker, key and headed out. He'd like to pretend the situation would go away, but he declared right then and there that he'd never forgive himself if he didn't find out exactly where his heart was inclined. He had to know, because if he didn't he'd be forever left feeling incomplete, and disturbingly inadequate. Plain and simple, he had to know, even if it cost him everything. Sharpay deserved that much alone.
The hospital still gave him the creeps. Troy supposed it always would. He'd be forever imprinted with the knowledge that Sharpay had almost lost her life in one. He knew all too well she could have easily passed in the operating room, or in recovery, should a rupture have occurred. She was extremely lucky to have survived and recovered to flourish, but all too easily that could have never occurred. No matter how strong of a person she was, he'd always remember her bleeding internally, in a coma, pale and cold. He'd always recall being by her side, talking to her without reply. His blood curled at the memory.
There was one Montez registered as a patient, and Troy hardly thought an elderly man qualified as Gabriella's aunt. He tried to recall her mother's maiden name, knowing her aunt had never married. He'd heard it a few times, but never paid real attention to it. Come to think of it, he'd never really paid attention to much of what Gabriella said. He'd always been far more interested in her smiling face or singing ability. There was another thing his relationship with Gabriella had lacked: communication, at least on his part.
He decided after his failed attempt to locate her through the hospital database, to go for a trial and error method. He'd retrace his steps and travel back to the room he'd last seen Gabriella come out of. It was his only option, next to wandering around and asking patients.
When he stepped out of the elevator his breath caught. He could see Sharpay's old room, now occupied by another patient. He saw past the Asian man situated on the bed, and instead only saw her, looking so broken and fragile. He suddenly questioned his actions. He wanted to run back to Sharpay, even if it meant losing a couple fingers.
Like the first time, she found him. He felt a tap on his back and spun to see her standing before him, looking as pretty as ever. She seemed bashful, almost regretting catching his attention.
His tongue was thick and large in his mouth. Finally he managed, "Can I buy you a coffee? We need to talk."
She had tea. He had the coffee--black.
"I didn't expect to see you again," she told him, sipping the mint concoction. "I thought you made yourself pretty clear before."
He was blunt. "Do you still care for me?"
"I never stopped caring," she defended. "You were my first, Troy, my first everything. When you sang with me I just knew you were the one for me. I knew we were destined to be together for the rest of our lives. It sounds childish, really, I understand that. What girl knows what true love looks like?"
Troy felt hot under the collar. He'd had puppy love, but apparently she'd had the real thing, and still did. "But those feelings weren't enough when times got hard? You walked out when you needed space?"
She shrugged helplessly. "I guess. I don't know, Troy. I never stopped caring, but every time I looked at you, I had to wonder if we had been wrong. Maybe we shouldn't have sung, maybe it wasn't our place. I looked at you and Taylor and Chad and a voice inside my head told me you and I had brought it upon ourselves."
"You seemed pretty egger to blame Sharpay and Ryan," he pointed out.
Gabriella inclined her head and smiled sorrowfully. "As much as I blamed myself and you, I blamed them even more--I still do. I just had to get away, to be on my own, but my heart never stopped yearning for you."
Troy downed the last of his coffee and tossed the Styrofoam cup across the room. It landed perfectly in the trash bit and he did a mini cheer. "Still golden," he informed her, perking up.
"I never got to see you play," Gabriella announced softly.
"Play?"
"The championship," she said. "I watched practices and the semi-finals, but I never got to see you and the team playing at your best. It's a regret, because I know you all were so wonderfully talented. You deserved to keep that title of champion, because you really did earn it."
He blushed faintly and feigned another free-throw. "Man, you should have seen it! We got in there, did our thing and it felt so right."
She questioned, "More right then singing with me?"
"A different kind of right." The phone in his pocket vibrated and he almost reached for it. He wanted to hope it was Sharpay, but he forced his hands to remain on the table. Now was for Gabriella, not Sharpay.
After she finished her tea, she asked, "Why are you here?"
"I may," he nearly choked, "I may still have feelings for you." His stomach knotted at her instantly bright smile. "I have to know."
"What about Sharpay?" Gabriella's tone was sharp and sour when she mentioned her rival's name. "Aren't you with her?"
His hand came down hard on the table. "This isn't about her, Gabriella. This is about us."
Troy peered at her, trying to imagine himself bringing his dreams to reality. He glanced towards her hand, imagining his ring on her finger, maybe her in a white dress, or a baby on the hip. In three years they could be married, with children in five. They could have a house, their friends could reunite and continuity could reign again. She might smile at him adoringly and he would place his hand on the small of her back and guide her into his arms. She'd be the perfect piece on his arm, and he had to decide if he wanted all that.
"Gabriella, are you seeing anyone else?"
She shook her head. "I dated for a while, but they just never made me feel special, you know? I waiting for that special feeling to come my way again, like the one you brought. The kind that makes your heart beat too fast, your palms sweat, knees feel weak and you forget what you're thinking all in the blink of an eye. The stuff that you never question, because it's meant to be."
"I brought that for you?"
"And more."
He reached across and took her hand in his, feeling their fingers fit together. "Do I still?"
She said stiffly, "Every time I look at you. Every time I think about you, Troy Bolton." Gabriella leaned across the table, keeping a firm grip on his hand. "You're it for me. I pushed you away when I was young and stupid. There's no fighting or deny on my part, not any more, because the heart doesn't lie."
Gabriella was the kind of woman who'd cater to him, Troy realized. Not in the way that found a husband superior to his wife, because she'd never been that type of woman. He simply knew that if he took her back on the spot, she'd put him before her in a moment. She was completely love struck with him, just waiting for even an inkling of reciprocation. Gabriella would put her life on hold for him, which was a great sacrifice, and something Troy knew for a fact Sharpay wouldn't do.
Gabriella would have his children. She'd get up and make him breakfast in the morning before work and have dinner on the table when he got home. She'd be the type of girlfriend who let him got hang out with the boys, and let him pick the movie. She'd expect him to dote on her, but never force him to sleep on the couch if he forgot their anniversary. She wouldn't care about the size of the engagement ring, or the house, just that they had happiness and each other.
Still, she wouldn't tell him he couldn't drive, or steal the CD case the moment they entered the car. She wouldn't make the first move and kiss the life out of him, or grab his butt in public. She wasn't Sharpay, who would expect breakfast in bed every morning, and then make it worth his while in every possible way. Gabriella wouldn't make him climb the walls with mood swings, and he wouldn't have to run out to buy tampons for her. And Gabriella certainly wouldn't make him dress up as King Duncan just so she could play the part of the power-hungry Lady MacBeth.
Both Gabriella and Sharpay would make him smile, but in radically different ways. They were, after all, radically different people.
"You're very beautiful," he told Gabriella. "You always have been. You're beautiful and smart, resourceful, creative, and everything a person could ever want to have by their side."
Her hand slid up his arm, fingernails massaging softly. Then her hand felt from his arm and she stood, rounded the table and sat next to him. She looked him deep in the eyes. "You're an amazing man, Troy Bolton. Any girl would be honored to have you for a boyfriend, or more." Her eyes seemed to sparkle at the hint of a future.
He framed her face, watching her carefully. "Do you love me?"
She answered unequivocally, "Yes."
He held her steady and leaned down, praying for his answer. He kissed her soundly, of his own free will, and felt her press back, deepening the intimate gesture. He poured his heart into the kiss, asking Sharpay to forgive him. It was the only way. He had to know, and his kiss with Gabriella would either bring love or despair for them all.