Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
A/N: I am so sorry that this chapter took longer. I was pretty sick the past couple of days and was pretty much high on Nyquil most of the time, so I didn't feel like typing because I knew it wouldn't be my best work. And then I had it ready two days ago, but my Document Manager went all pyscho on me and wouldn't let me upload any documents. I was so mad I almost threw my computer out the window. Good thing I didn't. LOL Once again, sorry :D
Anyway, this chapter is a little more serious than the past few. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters are left, but there is still plenty of drama to come!
Enjoy!
"It's a letter from Duke," Troy said, his face unreadable.
"Duke?" Gabriella asked incredulously, moving to stand closer to Troy.
"They talked to me at camp this summer. Now they want me to visit campus," he said, handing her the letter. "They're sending a scout to the first game of the season."
"Oh, Troy, that's wonderful!" Gabriella cried, throwing her arms around him happily. Troy looked away, clearly not sharing the same feelings as Gabriella.
"Troy? What's wrong?"
"Gabi, they're sending a scout. To watch me play. What if-what if I can't play again?"
Gabriella's face fell when she realized what Troy was worried about.
"Troy, don't think like that. You will be able to play again," she said, tenderly brushing his hair from his face.
"But what if I can't play this year? Gabi, most days I can barely get out of bed without wanting to throw up or pass out. How am I supposed to play basketball?"
"Troy, you'll find a way. I know you will. You are one of the strongest people I know."
"Gabi, I don't even know if I'm going to make it to graduation. How can I think about college?"
Gabriella felt tears prick her eyes as she listened to Troy. "Troy, please don't talk like that. You're not going to die."
Troy looked away from her, hiding his own tears. "Gabi, your future is certain. I might not even have one."
"Troy, please," Gabriella pleaded, reaching out to him, pulling his face back towards her. He broke from her grip, sitting in one of the chairs and putting his head into his hands. Gabriella walked over to him, moving a chair and sitting down, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly.
"Troy? Please look at me," she said, sliding closer and lying her head on his shoulder.
"Gabi, I need a little time to myself right now. I need to think through a few things," Troy said quietly, looking away from Gabriella.
"Troy, don't shut me out again. We can talk through this together."
Troy folded his arms on the table, placing his head on them. Gabriella sighed, closing her eyes as tears began to slide down her face.
"Troy?"
He continued to ignore her, forcing her to move away.
"Troy, please don't do this again. Please talk to me."
Troy's head shot up, and she saw that he was crying.
"Gabriella, please leave me alone. I'll talk to you later, okay? Just let me deal with this alone."
"Fine," she said angrily, standing up. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."
She turned to leave, but Troy called her back.
"Gabi, don't go away mad."
She wheeled around to face him, clearly upset.
"Don't go away mad? But you do want me to go away, right Troy?"
He sighed heavily, putting a hand to his head and frowning.
"Gabi, I don't mean it like that."
"Then how do you mean it, Troy? I just want to help you, but you keep turning me away."
Troy stood up, reaching out to Gabriella, trying to calm her.
"Please, Gabi, this is hard for me. I've just-I've never needed help before. I'm not used to asking for it."
Gabriella jerked her arm from his grasp.
"Troy, I realize that, but I can't help you if you don't let me. You keep shutting me out."
"Maybe I don't want this to be real!" Troy shouted, his raised voice betraying his anger and annoyance. "Maybe asking for help would make this too real. I don't want to die, Gabi."
"Troy, you're not going to die."
"It's easy enough for you to say that. You're not the one who's spent the last few months in and out of the hospital. Your not the one who spends most of their time in the bathroom throwing up everything reaches your stomach. Sometimes, Gabi, I wish I would die."
"Troy, please don't talk like that," Gabriella pleaded, reaching out to brush her hand against his shoulder. "You don't want to die."
"Gabi, you don't know what it's like. Every morning I wake up and I think everything is normal. Then it hits me. I have cancer. Cancer."
"Troy, I know I can't possibly understand how you feel. But I want to help you. I need to help you. This hurts me just as much as it hurts you."
Troy looked away, closing his eyes.
"Gabi, I don't want to hurt you."
"Then let me help you, Troy," Gabriella pleaded, stepping closer. "Please let me help you. We can make it through this. Together."
Troy sighed, swiping at the tears that had begun to flow down his cheeks. Gabriella stepped forward, reaching out to brush away the tears. She leaned in closer, brushing her lips against Troy's cheek, then kissing him gently.
"Please, Troy," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.
Troy held her close, resting his own head on top of hers.
"Okay. I'll try," he replied, closing his eyes as more tears slipped from under his eyelids.
"How is he doing, Dr. Michaels?" Kellie asked, looking expectantly at the doctor as he sat behind his desk. She was tightly gripping her husband's hand as they waited to discuss Troy's prognosis with the doctor.
The doctor sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
"I'm a little bit concerned about his last round of blood work."
"Concerned? Why?" Jack asked, his fingers turning white as Kellie increased the pressure she was exerting on them.
"Frankly, I don't feel that the numbers are where they should be after five rounds of chemo."
"What does that mean?" Kellie asked.
"I don't think Troy is responding to the treatments as well as he should be. For someone his age, and in his physical condition-"
"Just cut to the chase," Jack cut in, his voice raised slightly. "What does this all mean?"
"I think it might be a good idea to consider beginning to look for a bone marrow donor. Just in case."
"Bone marrow donor?" Kellie asked, her complexion paling considerably. "But isn't it hard to find a match?"
Dr. Michaels nodded. "Which is why I think it would be a good idea to start looking. If we start now, the chances we'll find a match by the time Troy needs the procedure are a lot better than if we wait. Besides, there's still a chance he won't even need the transplant, that he'll begin to respond to the treatments."
"Do it," Jack said, staring the doctor down. "Whatever you need to do, do it. Just don't let my son die."
Troy stood in front of the basketball hoop in his backyard, holding a ball in his hands. He twirled the ball in his hands, trying to decide what to do. Making up his mind, he set up and shot the ball, cursing silently when it hit the backboard and bounced off.
"Come on," he whispered to himself, retrieving the ball and trying again. The second shot bounced off the rim, closer than the first but not close enough. Groaning, Troy picked the ball up again. The third shot wasn't even close.
His mind made up, Troy shot basket after basket until his arms felt like they were going to fall off.
"Troy?" his father walked out from the house, clearly worried about his son. "Troy, what are you doing?"
"Practicing," Troy grunted, setting up and taking another shot. It hit the rim, spinning around before falling into the basket. "I've only made fifteen in the last ten minutes."
Jack frowned, walking over to his son. "Troy, you're going to overexert yourself. You know you're not supposed to strain yourself too much."
"Dad, I have to practice," Troy replied, taking another shot. He smiled with triumph when it fell cleanly through the basket.
"Troy, this is suicide. You're going to kill yourself if you stay out here," Jack said, noticing the pain that crossed his son's face as he made the last shot. "You're hurting yourself."
"Dad, just let me practice. I need to be in game shape for the season. I have to impress the scout from Duke."
Understanding dawned on Jack's face. "Troy, is that what this is about? The letter from Duke?"
"Yup." Troy took another shot, frowning when it bounced out of the basket.
"Troy, stop it and look at me," Jack said, stepping in front of his son. Troy ignored him, setting up another shot. "Troy!"
"What!"
"Give me the ball."
Troy threw the ball at his father, turning and stalking into the house.
"Troy? Troy, get back here!" Jack called after his son in vain. He distinctly heard Troy's car start in the driveway, and the screeching of tires as Troy peeled away. "Troy!"
A/N: That's kind of a cliffhanger. Kinda sorta. Maybe. Who knows. Anyway, reviews greatly appreciated, as always. I know this wasn't my best work, but please forgive me. I'm still sick, and my brain is kind of scrambled. :D
Moment of Shameless Self Promotion: If you read my story, "This is How a Heart Breaks," go nominate it for something at the HSM fanfiction awards under the Forums. LOL Or nominate another story. Whatever, just thought I'd throw it out there :D
Coming in Chapter 11: Something happens to Troy. Another visit to the hospital. Wouldn't it be funny if Chad dyed his hair pink?