I Want You This Much

Chapter 8

Sharpay stood outside at the cemetery with her daughter in her arms and her boyfriend next to her. She rubbed her daughter's back as Libby restlessly tried to sleep. She watched as the casket was lowered into the ground and then slowly covered with dirt. She looked at her friends, before she and Zeke started to leave.

"Sharpay? Wait!"

Sharpay turned around. "Yeah, Troy?"

"Can we talk?" he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Both had tears in their eyes, but hadn't let them fall for days.

"Yeah," she nodded. She handed her sleeping daughter to Zeke and kissed his cheek.

She then headed with Troy back into the cemetery.

"You know... I loved your song in the funeral today," Troy complimented. "Amazing Grace... Gabriella loved that song."

"That's why I sang it," Sharpay responded as they walked along. Neither looked at the other, too afraid they'd let a tear slip out of their eyes.

"I know and your version wasn't half that bad. But I didn't recognize part of it. Did you add a verse?" he asked.

"Yeah, for Gabriella. It was actually about her," she nodded.

They looked up at each other at the same time and then a tear dripped from the corner of Troy's eye. Sharpay leaned over, pulling a purple hankie from her pocket, and wiped his tear away with the delicate cloth, a small smile gracing her silkypink lips. He chuckled a little and took her hand in his.

"I'm sorry you were in the hospital this week. High risk pregnancy, right?" he apologized.

"Yes... high risk pregnancy..." she trailed off, staring at her feet after feeling her face go warm with embaressement.

He pulled her into a hug and she shoved her head into the crook of his neck, sobbing. He joined her in mourning their beloved friend. After several minutes the two realized they were adults and had to control themselves, especially for the sake of their children. They pulled away and made their way to a bench.

Sharpay stared at the chipped beige paint decorating what seemed like an ancient bench, the metal armrests and legs were covered with chipped black and wherever the paint was gone, it was covered in orange rust.

Troy's eyes had drifted to the new dirt in the grave sight. His wife had just been buried and he was not only now a single man, but a single father. He remembered seeing Gabriella's face the second their son was born. 'James' was the first word, name, to slip from her lips when she was rocking him gently in her arms to silence his wails of fear and confusion. Troy had just nodded and let her do whatever she wanted. Now... she was gone.

"Troy... I wanted to ask you something..." she said, filling in the uncomfortable silence and snapping him back to reality.

"Okay... shoot, Ally," he said, using her high school nickname as his gaze fixed upon her downcasted gaze.

"The doctors said it's one hundred percent sure that I'm having multiple births, although they're not sure how many. I wanted to ask you, if I have a girl... Can I... Would you... Should I... May I use Gabriella Cristina Montez?" she asked, looking up hopefully at him.

"Of course you can!" he screamed in excitement.

She jumped at his reply. "Really?"

"Yes... Really," he said a littlecalmer than before.

"Oh! Thank you, Troy!" she hugged him. He embraced back, breathing in her scent. She smelled just like...

"Hey! Is that Gabriella's perfume?" he asked as they pulled away.

"Yeah... So?" she shrugged. "She gave it to me a week before the crash, okay? Don't get all weird, Troy. Plus... it suits me just as much as it did her."

He clenched his fist, wanting to hit her extremely hard, but knew it would only result in a fight between them and he didn't want to hold anything against one of his friends.

They walked back to the others in silence, afraid they'd start an argument that was unneeded with one another.

Troy sat in his Mercedes, watching Sharpay take Libby and then buckle her in Zeke's jeep. He rocked James's basinet a little as his eyes followed Sharpay as she slammed the front side door to the dark green vehicle and then watched Zeke drive them home.

Troy slammed his head against the steering wheel, sending a chill down James's spine. The infant started to wail again. Troy rocked the basinet a bit more until his son stopped sobbing as if his lungs would pop. When James started to dozed off, Troy started up the car and headed home.