Chapter 12

I'm afraid that my lapses in updates are very much indicative of my writing :( currently I am volunteering with a local organization that aids marginalized populations, so teaching 25 sweet kiddos has taken presedence over pretty much everything in my life. Also, it's the holy month of Ramadan! Even though I'm not fasting, most of my sweet friends are. Out of respect for them, I don't eat or drink when in their company. Because of this, most days I'm really tired, so there is obviously an even bigger gap in my updating. It's almost over, though. I'll try to make this chapter good. However, I feel like most of the time I'm rambling...

Anyway, I cherish you all! I feel so honored to have dedicated readers, even though I'm mostly unreliable.

"She's beautiful, Troy," Heather Bolton gushed to her son as his girlfriend walked into the restaurant.

Much to his chargrin, Troy had not been permitted to pick Gabriella up and drive her to the restaurant. His father had insisted he come a bit earlier so that they could talk to Dr. Anders without the disruption of teenaged hormones. His breath caught in his chest when he noticed Gabriella. He drank in her appearance before noticing the almost scared look upon her face. She was trying to locate him. Without acknowledging his mother's comment, Troy stood hastily from his chair and rushed to Gabriella.

"Troy," she beamed in relief before allowing him to pull her into a gentle hug, "I was afraid you weren't here, that somehow I got the wrong address."

"I'm right here," he assured happily, running his fingers affectionately against her face. "I'm so sorry I couldn't come get you tonight."

"It's all right. I understand. You can drive me home, though, right? I've missed you."

He grinned at her admittance, because he had missed her too, "We saw each other just last night," he teased before his voice husked, "but it never seems to be enough, does it?"

She shook her head, her eyes sparkling as she clung to his button-down, trying desperately not to drown in all that was Troy Bolton.

"You look beautiful as usual," his nose was brushing the side of her face as he spoke, "and I can drive you home. I drove separately for that very reason."

She was beaming, but Troy couldn't see her face as she snuggled against him, "I think we're causing a scene, stud; and your father doesn't look happy that you have abandoned sports talk in favor of PDA."

"He'll get over it," Troy grinned down at her, "but I guess we should head over. They want to meet you." He took her hand in his and led her to his awaiting parents.

"Mom, Dad, Dr. Anders," he began as he helped Gabriella with her seat, causing a flush of crimson to take over her cheeks, "this is Gabriella Montez. Gabriella, these are my parents – Jack and Heather – and Dr. Anders. He works at U of A."

"I'm happy to meet you all," she told them sincerely, sharing a demure smile with the table.

"We're happy to meet you as well, Gabriella," Heather Bolton grinned and patted the younger girl's hand. "Tell us about yourself, sweetheart."

"Uhm, well, what would you like to know?" Gabriella certainly was unaccustomed to being the center of attention – unless Sharpay was pouring food over Gabriella's head.

"Anything. Tell us about your family perhaps, or your hobbies. Anything is fine." Heather encouraged with a beaming smile at her son's timid girlfriend.

"I'm an only child. My mother is Elena Montez. She's a clinical psychologist, but she stopped analyzing me years ago," her comment earned the intended chuckles from the table. "My father is Antonio Montez. He is an architect. He designed the new building on 17th Street downtown. My mom framed the blueprints. They met in college and have been married for twenty years. I'm an only child, but I have lots of aunts and uncles and cousins."

"That sounds lovely," Mrs. Bolton commented. "You'll have to tell us more, but in just a moment, because my husband is giving me a look that says he's hungry and ready to order."

"She knows you well, Jack." Dr. Anders laughed.

Troy and Gabriella quickly scanned the menu as the other three table members ordered. Ultimately, they chose on two different dishes that sounded equally delectable. They couldn't choose just one, so they decided to share.

"So, Gabriella, where are you planning to go for university in the fall?" Dr. Anders asked politely.

Gabriella finished a bite of potato from Troy's plate before answering, "I was accepted to New York University in December. I'm going to study at the Gallatin School of Individualized Study while I'm there. That way I can study global education as a minor while majoring in early childhood education and a foreign language – I haven't decided which one yet."

"Wow! I am very impressed, Miss Montez. You've given this a lot of thought. What would you like to do once you graduate?"

Gabriella smiled at the interest Dr. Anders was showing in her aspirations, "I would like to get a Ph.D. Afterward, I want to teach children in an impoverished country. I think educational non-profit work would technically be what it's called." She was very proud of the thought she had given to her future.

"That's interesting, Gabriella," this time it was Jack Bolton who was adding comment to conversation. "Are your parents aware of your aspirations? I've heard you do quite well in the maths and sciences."

"I do," she answered modestly, "I'm not very passionate about either, however. My parents are fine with my decision...now." She added as an afterthought, turning her head to send Troy a wink.

"May I ask what that means?"

"It means that I am not my parents, nor will I ever be. No matter how much they want me to be a doctor, that doesn't mean I ever will, or that I would even be good about it." As usual, Troy noticed, Gabriella's voice remained sweet with the essence of honey. It surprised him that she could sound so beautiful when layering her response to his father with hidden meanings.

"Thank God I have a son who sees eye-to-eye with me!" Jack responded whilst slapping Dr. Anders on the back playfully.

Troy sputtered his water, earning a giggle and a hand squeeze from Gabriella. Once he recovered, she searched his eyes for a hidden permission. Permission to push further. The way his thumb ran across her knuckles and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with one definitive gulp, gave her all the permission she required. There was no going back. This was the conversation Troy desperately needed to have with his parents, and Gabriella was initiating it.

Innocently, she began, "Troy's lucky to have a father who accepts his choice to major in sociology and psychology without pestering him to find something else. It took a little work to get my parents on board with my decision. I admire that you accept his decision without continuously bombarding him with negative opinions for that choice."

"Wait," Jack Bolton's one word cause the whole table to freeze. Heather looked frantically from her son to her husband, then to Gabriella and Dr. Anders. The rest of the table sat silently, eyes trained on Jack, waiting for him to continue. "What makes you think that Troy wants to major in sociology and psycology?"

"That's what I told her, Dad. She didn't assume I was going to pursue basketball in college. She asked me." Troy picked up his water glass with the hand that wasn't holding Gabriella's and took a large drink in order to calm his nerves.

"What?! This is complete bullshit!" Jack wiped his mouth with his cream colored napkin before throwing it on the table, a smear marring the perfection that once was.

"Jack, watch your language and volume. We are in a restaurant," Heather chided in a nervous whisper.

"Troy," Jack began a little more calmly, "Mark and I are friends, but he agrees to come to dinner with us so he can give you advice on sports medicine. Are you saying we've been wasting his time?"

"Jack, it's all right. The boy is just gathering information for all his options." Dr. Anders seemed unperturbed, but Jack Bolton would not be swayed.

"No. I want to hear what this is all about, because I, for one, have not heard anything about sociology and psychology."

"You've never asked!" Troy had certainly inherited his father's passionate temper. The feeling of Gabriella's gentle hand caressing his bicep helped to eradicate come of the heat seething from his body. "You just thought that's what I wanted to pursue. I don't like sport nearly as much as you do. I just play to make you happy. As for sports medicine, I don't want to be a doctor, Dad."

Jack was silent for five long seconds before he stood, leaving the table. Belatedly mentioning that he needed a cigarette.

Gabriella bit her lip, angry and embarrassed that she had caused such a catastrophe. Mrs. Bolton interrupted Gabriella's self-loathing.

Her voice was not as gentle as it had been in the beginning. It was a voice meant to deliver an attack to the girl who had ruined dinner, "Gabriella, tell me, how do your parents feel about your plans to move to a third-world country, most likely a war-torn environment full of landmines and terrorists? How do they feel about the fact that you completely disregarded any ideas for your future that they had?"

The way the question was asked bothered Gabriella. It was meant to hurt her. Mrs. Bolton was hurt, and she was channeling her hurt onto her son's young girlfriend. Gabriella's mind was strategically planning her response, something like, My parents are incredibly proud that I had the courage to tell them what it is I want to gain out of life. They admire the fact that I'm pursuing a life and career that will embody the selfless attitude they have taught me to constantly exhibit. Of course they are worried for my well-being. All parents would be, but there comes a time when parents have to realize that their children are no longer children. They are competent individuals with the ability to make informed decisions. My parents have reached this point. They are supportive of my aspirations and in order to remain close to me they have taken an interest in what I find to be important.

She would have said this, but beneath the table, Troy had spent almost the entirety of the dinner holding Gabriella's hand. His thumb stroked her knuckles now, offering silent courage all the while. She had done the same for him earlier. In this moment, Gabriella wanted very much to kiss Troy Bolton, to show him how much she cared about him, despite the pain she had inevitably caused him tonight. Over the course of their short relationship, she had felt the need to feel his lips upon her own, but never had it been as strong as it was now. Never had she so desperately wished to ignore everyone in favor of becoming completely immersed in Troy. She wanted the whole world to dissolve, leaving only herself and her beloved. She was overwhelmed with the realization that she was falling in love with the boy next to her. The way she often found him looking at her stole her breath. The way he doted upon her in the simplest of ways made her cheeks flush and her heart race. Flashes of herself in a white dress, herself swollen with child, herself singing lullabies, flashes of a life with Troy infiltrated her mind. She was overwhelmed by his love for her, and the idea that she had caused him and his family pain. She hated herself for that. She wanted to let him know that she never, ever wanted to hurt him in any way, because he was the first person – besides her parents – to really see her for who she was. The first person to want to know her, spend time with her. He was the first person to ever hold her hand and kiss her, and the idea of losing him terrified her. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

She didn't answer Heather Bolton, instead she turned to Troy, tears filling her eyes for no real reason. She touched his cheek, and her lips trembled as she spoke to him, "I love you."

It was all she said.