ET Chapter 11: Perfection…Shattered
"Maria! Maria!" The more he yelled the name, the louder the knocking became. At first she thought she was simply dreaming. Then, refusing to open her eyes, rolled over to the other side of the bed, as if it could offer her protection from the sound. She finally resorted to putting a pillow over her head, trying to ignore the knocking and yelling coming from the super.
"Maria!" Mr. Adobo's voice was nasal and hoarse, curtsey of his six packs a day diet. "It's June 12th and your bill is way overdue. This is the thousandth time you've done this and I'm sick and tired of this shit!"
June 12th? Bill overdue? Quicker than a bullet, Gabriella shot up from bed and raced to the bathroom. Tip-toeing over the bras, panties, and dirty towels, she kneeled in front of the sink cabinet, opened it, and searched for the box of laundry detergent she kept hidden in the back.
Please let it be here. Please let it be here, she prayed to God, although it didn't take away the bad feeling growing inside her gut.
And the horrible feeling was confirmed. The whole six hundred and fifty dollars she spent weeks collecting, taking up every shift available at her jobs to get, was gone.
Bile rose up to her throat. She could feel her body was shaking in… anger, shock, both? She didn't know.
All she knew was Maria done it once again.
Fucking Hell! Rage washed over Gabriella, and she found herself drowning in it. Her hands were already clenched into tight fists before she could control herself, crushing the empty box in her hand. She had to bit down her tongue to keep herself from screaming and risking Mr. Adobo hearing her.
Fuck, she could feel hot tears rushing to her eyes, stinging them and threatening to escape. She bit her tongue down harder and clenched her fists tighter. There was no fucking way she was going to cry, especially at a time like this.
For months Gabriella had to pay more than her fair share so they could keep a roof over their heads while the hell-hound bruja let her money go to waste. She had to hide the money because the witch was getting desperate and going broke. She was so sure she hid it well.
Clearly she was wrong.
Cursing at Maria, Gabriella tossed the box in the trash and went to her room. Stripping off her night cami and boy-shorts, she changed into a red thank top and denim shorts she found lying around, not even bothering to fix her messy ponytail. She grabbed her keys, her shoes, and then climbed out her window, to the fire escape.
She knew exactly where to find her mother.
Four blocks away was the Night Spot, a huge nightclub famous for its unlimited supply of strong drinks and loud music, where party-goers, prostitutes, dealers, and drunks go to escape the world.
Stepping inside, Gabriella was immediately bathed in the neon blue light coming from the headlights surveying all over the place. Due to its' name, the Night Spot was done in a night fashion; pitch black walls and polished floors, huge over head lights shining neon blue light blue lights all over the place.
The place was packed! Bodies pressing tightly against one each other, giving observers a show on the dance floor. Dealers slyly handing over the goods in one hand to the customer and accepting a wad of cash in the other. People surrounding the bar, chatting with their friends or the bartenders, asking for a refill after they gulped down their drink.
Gabriella's eyes scanned over the crowd, seeking a certain face over the sea of faces. Finally she spotted the familiar raven hair and curvy figure on the third floor and went up. It was just as crowded up there as it was down there, but it was somehow less noisy since everyone was mostly talking around and taking shots from the bar.
Near the glass railing were a small group of people sitting around on the black and blue velvet furniture. In front of them were empty and half-full glasses of vodka with a large bottle still half-full. A guy who looked like he was in twenties and had long, purple-dyed hair was knocked on the love seat, his head dangling uncomfortably off the armrest. On the opposite side, seated on the recliner with his feet up was a bored-looking Latino in a black fedora smoking. Straddling his lap and kissing his ear was a leggy, busty-chest blonde in a strappy red mini dress that looked more like lingerie. In the middle between them, sitting alone on the couch was a woman in s tight, black strapless dress and shiny black leather knee-high boots with five inch heel.
She had deep black hair that was straight and shoulder-length, olive-tan skin that was once flawless now bruised with a few scrapes and marks, and dark brown eyes that were glassy. She reached over for the bottle and took a huge swing, nearly finishing the whole thing. After that, she moved onto two full cups of olive martinis she gulped down in a second, had a few pills she pulled from her "chest", and ate the olive.
Dear Mommy dearest.
"Gabriella," Maria put on a pleasant smile on her face as she saw her daughter approaching. Unsteadily, she stood up and reached in for a hug.
Gabriella pushed her away, once again sickened by the thing supposedly called her mother. Taking one look at her glassy, blood-shot eyes and smelling the heavy liquor from her breath, she knew Maria was seriously drunk-and high off whenever she snorted into her nose.
"Did you spend it all?"she demanded, crossing her arms against her chest. Maria may want to put on a show for them, but there was no way Gabriella would follow along.
Maria's smile lost it charm for a moment as she realized she was caught. Once again. She still wore her pleasant smile and held onto her wrist, pulling her close to look like she was a good mother. All for show. Leaning close to Gabriella's ear, her cold voice whispered to her "I highly suggest you cool it and calm down."
She squeezed Gabriella's wrist extra hard for emphasis, nearly crushing her bones. Gabriella shook her off and resisted the urge not to wipe her wrist against her shorts, to clean herself from Maria's touch.
"I'm not going to fucking cool it," she said through gritted teeth, trying to keep her cool together. "That was our rent money. Money we needed to keep a roof over our heads. Which you spent on crack! What the fuck is wrong with you, Maria?"
"I needed a little pick-me-up," Maria protested. "The whole week has been nothing but one bitch of a headache."
"The whole seventeen years with you has been nothing but a goddamn bitch of a headache. Unlike your weak self, I force myself to deal with it and you. Now, thanks to you, we're once again broke and need rent money."
The guy in fedora stood up before Maria could reply. By the smirk on his face, he seemed amused with the drama episode unfolding in front of him. "Now, come on, girl," he said to Gabriella. "I read somewhere frowning can lead to wrinkles. It'd be such a shame to see a pretty face lose its' charm. Just ask your mother."
Maria was hurt by his words and looked away, running her hand through her hair.
Gabriella recognized the guy as Carlos Dunvas, the dealer of her neighborhood. He had the best drugs that could make a brain and body go completely numb for hours. He also wasn't bad-looking either. Good height, in his mid- thirties but still looked like he was in twenties, a nice body, and a good-looking face. However, she also knew he has a nasty temper that can quickly explode like a short fuse to a bomb. He had a gang of thugs who "handled" customers that didn't come up with the money. He was also a totally creep. Gabriella was beginning to notice how he watched her with a strange, prey-like look in his eyes that her feel violated.
Especially now as his eyes went from her face to the low, scoop neck of her tank top, revealing a bit more of her ta-ta's than she would have liked.
Chuckling to himself, Carols snapped his fingers, and the blonde-his new tramp of the week-handed him a lit joint he took a hit of. He titled his head back and blew the thick, musky smoke into the air before smiling charmingly at Gabriella. "Besides, Maria has a lot more to worry about than rent money. She owns me eight hundred dollars for the Columbian coke. And also an additional two hundred for the heroin and another hundred for the marijuana."
"Eleven hundred dollars?" It was no secret Maria lately has been drowning in debt. Gabriella had no idea she was drowning that deep.
She whirled around to Maria, who avoided meeting her eyes. Gabriella reminded herself repeatedly not to take an inch closer toward her, no matter how tempting it was, because she knew if she did she would kill her. "You owe eleven hundred fucking dollars?"
"Carlos," Maria turned to him, reaching for his shoulder. "Now really isn't the time."
He shoved her off him and knocked her into the chair, tossing her away like she was trash, without taking his eyes away from Gabriella. "Don't worry your pretty little head over nothing, Gabriella. Your mom has found a way to pay off her debt. But if you want in, I'm sure we can work something out."
Before she could tell him what he could do with his offer and where he could stick it, Carlos held a loose strand of her hair that fallen out of the ponytail and toyed with it, curling it around his finger and tucking it neatly behind her ear, taking his time to make sure he touched her skin. Gabriella could barely remember a time she felt so disgusted and violated till now. His touch was like lice creeping up her skin, but ten times worse. But there was no way she was going to let him know he could get to her, so she forced herself to remain still.
Gabriella's eyes snuck a peek at Maria, who barely paid attention to what was going on, and had herself another drink. There were a few things about her appearance she was beginning to notice: her hair disheveled, her fiery-siren red lipstick smudged, deep purplish hickeys on her neck, and she had no bra on. Gabriella then turned back to Carlos, already figuring out how Maria was working off her debt.
"So what do you say, Gabi?" he asked, taking another hit of his joint and another step closer to her. "Be a good daughter and help your mama out."
Gabriella had to smile at the irony of his sentence. He was telling her to whore herself out to help mommy dearest out of debt. Problem was she wasn't anyone's daughter, less of all Maria's, and Maria sure as hell wasn't a mama. She didn't even deserve the term mother.
"It's her bill, her problem. Not mine. So the whore can handle her own shit." Gabriella told him, and then headed downstairs, without looking at either of them.
"Oh yeah!" Maria yelled behind her. "Let me tell you something, you worthless brat. If I burn in hell, I'm taking you down there with me. Do you fucking hear me?"
A scatter noise crashed besides her. From the corner of her eye, Gabriella saw the shards of glass Maria threw at her. It missed her head by an inch.
Still, though, she refused to look back.
Gabriella woke up with a slight start, snapping her eyes open and checking her surrounding in a daze. The floor covered with clothes, clothing hanging out of the shelves of her dresser, her favorite posters hung on the wall and collages, her Disney Princess doll collection. She was back in her room.
In Javier's.
She slowly sat up in her bed, wiping the beads of sweat off her forehead. She hadn't realized how much the dream affected her until she was aware how tight her fists were clenched.
Unclenching them slowly, Gabriella took in slow, deep breaths.
Calm down, she told herself. It was just a dream.
Well, actually, it was more than a dream, but that didn't mean she'd dwell on it.
"You okay?" She looked up and found her brother standing in her doorway. How he had been there, she had no idea.
"I'll be fine." she murmured.
"You sure?" He watched her closely.
Gabriella looked at him, her older brother who may be half her blood but cared for her and raised her like any full-blooded father-type brother would have. Half the time, it seemed like they were full siblings because they had similar traits: dark brown alluring eyes that changed to black, depending on their mood, same deep black hair. Because he pratically raised her from the time she was a day old, they were pratically synced like twins. She knew him better than his best friend or even Anita. He knew her better than anyone.
Which was why when Gabriella looked away from him and didn't answer his question, he nodded, walked into the room, and joined her in the bed.
Javier pulled her blanket over their heads. Before she could help herself, Gabriella curled up against him, as if there were some part of her that was waiting for the moment. She laid her head on his chest, and he securely wrapped one arm around her.
"Our magical tent," he smiled. Gabriella didn't return his smile, and soon his faded. "Everything is going to be okay, Ella. Okay?"
She looked at him for the longest time, feeling such a strong sense of déjà vu. In that moment she was split into two, one half remembering what he done that was unforgivable and other remembering the countless times they were under their tent.
"Okay." Before she could help herself, the word came out of her. It was so easy to say.
He nodded and pulled her close to him. She nuzzled close onto him and closed her eyes.
It was funny to her. Who would have ever guessed all she needed to feel asleep peacefully was her brother close to her and the two of them under their tent?
The next morning, at early dawn, Gabriella was up and dressed for work. Javier was up as well, playing a game with Paco. He asked his son where a body part was, Paco would point, and sometimes he'd get it right. So far it looked like he was doing well.
"Okay, Paco. Where is daddy's nose? Can you find his nose?"
The baby stared blankly at his face, and then a smile broke across his face as he pointed at his nose.
"Very good," Javier praised, smiling at his son's enthusiasm. "Now you can nose? Say nose."
"Nose." he repeated proudly. Even though Randy was going to kill her for arriving late, Gabriella stayed behind to watch.
"Now can you nose in Spanish?" A blank look appeared on Paco's face, and his dad quickly explained. "Nose. Nariz."
"Nar…nar…" When he couldn't get it, he burst into tears.
"Hey, hey, hey," Javier lifted him up in his arms and set him down on his lap as he sat down on the couch. He kissed his forehead and wiped away the tears, waiting patiently until Paco calmed down a bit before he spoke again. "It's okay. Now let's try again. Say nariz."
"Nar…nar…nariz."
"You got it!" Javi whispered excitedly.
"Nariz! Nariz! Nariz!" Paco clapped excitedly, back to his cheery, giggling self once again.
"So, now you're a Spanish teacher?" Gabriella asked her brother, walking in. She took Paco out of his hands and lifted him over her head, spinning them around the room. They both laughed as they became dizzy.
"Anita's very serious about Paco learning Spanish early." Her brother explained.
Gabriella arched her left eyebrow and smirked at him. "Did she threaten no more sex unless you teach him?"
Javier chose not to answer, but she saw the truth in his slightly still form and the way he looked away for a moment. When he turned back, he took his son back.
"Where's Anita?"
"At the bridal shop, then will be taking over the night shift at Helen's. So she won't be back until after two tomorrow morning. And I have to be at work by four."
Gabriella nodded, already knew where this was going. Javier worked as mechanic at Good Year that was in downtown. Anita had two part time jobs working as a seamstress at Perfect Fit, the bridal shop on Wayward Street,near Starbucks and a waitress at Helen's. Sparing her brother from wasting any more of his breath, she said "Drop Paco off at Starbucks around four or so. I get off work by five. Thank Jesus."
He was gone.
With shaky legs, ignoring the fact that my action was useless, I followed him into the forest. There were no footprints, the leaves still again, but I walked forward without thinking. I could not do anything else. I had to keep moving. If I stopped looking, it was over.
Love, life, meaning….over.
Oh, so sad, Gabriella thought, reading the passages from New Moon, the second book of the popular vampire saga, Twilight. Poor Bella described the incredible, world-shattering heartbreak that hit her with the depature of her beloved Edward. Sighing, she then shut the book and dropped it onto the floor with no hesitation. What bull.
Vivian, a fellow Starbucks employee and book-worm, noticed Gabriella reading Wuthering Heights a few weeks ago during her break and rushed over to her table, her enthusiasm hitched to overdrive. "Oh my god! You read?"
"It's practically my life." Gabriella replied absently, her mind half on Vivian and the other half focusing on Heathcliff's and Katy's tragic love affair. It was so unlike any other love story, where the both main characters had more flaws, were more human than fairy-tale like, and soon became another classic favorite of hers.
"Mine too." Gabriella lowered the book a bit and peered up at the pixie-like, excited girl standing besides her.
As it turned out, Vivian wasn't so bad. Annoying? Sometimes. Preppy? Too much for Gabriella's liking. But she reads almost as much Gabriella and was crazy about reading, where they managed to find common ground. Occasionally the two would chat about books, gave recommendations on books they thought the other would like, and traded books.
Last week Gabriella loaned Vivian The Book Thief, her third favorite book, and Before I Fall. In return, Gabriella was given Vivian's entire Twilight saga because Vivian was convinced a bookworm like Gabriella needed to read the books.
"Believe me, girl. By the time you're almost done with the first, you won't be able to stop reading until you reached the end of book four. Of course, you'll also be too busy picking whether you're team Edward or Jacob?"
Unlikely, Gabriella thought. One glance at the book and she knew she'd go through it like a death march. And she was right. She barely made it through the first book and couldn't finish the second one.
There were only two reasons why Gabriella guessed Vivian was so crazy abut the books. First reason: Alice Cullen. The cheery vampire physic who was practically Vivian's twin sister. Same height, same looks, except for the golden eyes which differed with Vivian's green eyes, and definitely the same cheery personality Gabriella couldn't handle. Second reason, in two words: Jacob Black. More specifically picturing Taylor Lauther and his gorgeous abs in every scene the werewolf was in.
The second reason was the only reason Gabriella miraculously made it through the first book, but even a gorgeous Lauther couldn't make her any more of the books. If it wasn't for the movies, which boosted the books' publicity from nonexistiant to popularity, then not even the most love-crazed romantics would read it.
She reached into her bag and pulled out Perfect Chemistry, the other book Vivian gave her. It was a Romeo and Juliet romance book that was way better than Shakespeare's normal version. It was simply more because, unlike the play, the two main characters couldn't stand each other in the beginning and their love story slowly developed once they gotten to know each other. The main characters were another reason why the book was so good. The Juliet of the story was Brittany Ellis, the seemingly perfect head cheerleader, who was the golden girl of her school and used that image to keep people from getting a glimpse of how bad her life really was. Romeo taken a form in a tough, Latino gangbanger named Alex Fuentes who had his own demons to face.
"Don't ask me why," Gabriella looked up at Vivian, and then glanced down at the book cover. A pretty girl lying flat on the ground, her blonde hair loose. The guy above her holding her cheek and looking down at her. Her eyes were closed peacefully, and she touched his arm. There was a cool black star tattoo on his hand Gabriella considered getting. "But I had a very good feeling you would really love this one."
Reason: According to Vivian, Alex Fuentes reminded her too much of Gabriella when she first read it. Gabriella suspected it was probably because of their Hispanic background and his bad boy-ness was similar to hers.
Reading the book again, for the tenth time, she could somehow see there was more than what Vivian mentioned.
"What do we have here?" piped a voice near her. "My favorite Latina trading in a sparkly vampire and hot-head werewolf for a Latino gangbanger? Poor shame, Gabi. That is discrimination and prejudice."
With her eyes still focused on the book, Gabriella's hand crept over to the left, balled into a tight fist, and pounded as hard and loud as she could against the counter. When she heard his winces and curses, she smiled to herself, pleased.
"God damnit! Gabi, you bitch!" Robbie winced, pressing his hand against his head that was laid on the counter, where it had been resting as soon as he came to work. "You're a huge bitch, you know that. You bitch."
Once again, without looking at him, Gabriella pounded her fist against his throbbing head. This time closer to his ear and twice as hard. Her smile widened as she heard his loud voice. "The correct word is bitch. And proud of it."
His response was a loud, long moan of pure torment.
They have been filling orders, making coffees, and dealing with customers for over three hours. And were sick of it. Gabriella would rather sleep all day or dance at Vicznor's, figuring out more moves for the Carmen tango routine.
Still, she was better off than poor Rob. Last night they went to the Underground, hanging out with a few of Rob's friends and partying till three in the morning. Gabriella stayed mostly on the dance floor, where she danced to practically every song the DJ played, and had a few hookups here and there. Rob also got some action, too, dancing his ass off, and scoring on and off the dance floor. Not to mention, he had tons of drinks. Vodka, martinis, rum, beer. If he didn't get it in cans, he got in bottles. If not bottles, then shots. If not shots, then in flasks that were being passed around.
Gabriella supposed she should have stopped him after his sixth or seventh shot of vodka mixed with rum, but there was no stopping Robbie once he had his liquor. Now, since he did the crime, he has to do the time, working a full shift with a massive hangover.
She asked him "Why do you suppose God intended for people to work on Saturday?"
"Because Sundays are his days." For that smart ass remark, she smacked on his temple before pounding her fist again. Wincing, he stood up slowly, with his hand still pressed against his head; he said "Simple. Man was created into two groups: the rich and the poor. The rich are the lucky ones who never have to worry about money, because they have an endless supply of money to spend. The poor, whom sadly includes you and me, are forced to work our fingers to the bone, hoping to increase a small fraction of what we make already to survive."
Gabriella nodded, agreeing. There were in fact some customers who defined rich. A businessman sitting by the window, typing away on his laptop, dressed in a thousand dollar suit and expensive Rolex watch to go with it. A group of college-looking girls clustered together near the shelves dressed in Gucci and Prada-branded clothes. The owner to the expensive, familiar black Lexis parking in front of the café she couldn't see.
Why does that car looks so familiar? Gabriella wondered.
"And now, fellow music lovers," said Ryan Searchest from the kiss 108 station that was blasting from the overhead speakers. "Time to spice up the radio waves with some Latina flavor. Shakira."
It's not her fault that she's so irresistible
But all the damage she's caused is infixable
Every twenty seconds you repeat her name
But when it comes to me you don't care
If I'm alive or dead
The music filled with the café. Some customers were moving their bodies along to the music while continuing on with their activities. Gabriella, herself, even swayed her hips as she took some orders. She turned, stunned, to see her hung-over friend was dancing as well.
"Dude, you have a hangover." she reminded.
Robbie made a disgusted sound with his throat. "Let that has ever stopped me from dancing."
Proving his point, he placed his hands on the counter and stood up straight, before flipping over the counter and landing perfectly in the middle of the shop. With everyone's eyes on him, he turned back once to wink at Gabriella, and then started to dance.
So objection! I don't wanna be the exception
To get a bit of your attention
I love you for free and I'm not your mother
But you don't even bother
Objection! I'm tired of this triangle
Got dizzy dancing tango
I'm fallin' apart in your hands again
No way I've got to get away
The way he was moving, it was like he didn't drink a drop of alcohol all night, performing a solo tango perfectly and adding some hip-hip moves into the mix.
The crowd cheered for him, snapping some pictures or recording it on their cameras. Gabriella applauded, laughing as she cheered him.
Next to her cheap silicon I look minimal
That's why in front of your eyes I'm invisible
Many girls held out their hands as he swept across the room, hoping to be his partner. He flirted his way through the girls, giving him his signature smile and wink, charming their hearts. When he caught Gabriella's eye, he left his admirers behind as he salsa his way toward her, his hand out.
But you gotta know small things also count
You better put your feet on the ground
And see what it's about
She stared at him for a moment or two, then, with a smile, nodded. Gesturing him to move back a bit, she climbed on top of the counter and, without hesitation, jumped into his arms. The people went wild, cheering loud.
Objection! I don't wanna be the exception
To get a bit of your attention
I love you for free and I'm not your mother
But you don't even bother
Judging the angels of this triangle
Got dizzy dancing tango
I'm fallin' apart in your hands again
No way no, no, no, no
As Robbie spun them around, Gabriella quickly changed her position, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his torso, letting her body fall back gracefully as he dipped her low.
I wish there was a chance for you and me
I wish you couldn't find a place to be
Away from here
Once he let her down, Robbie, keeping his hands around her waist, caressed the bare skin available to him as he leaned in closer, but Gabriella pushed him away, refusing to let him play her again. Baffled, Rob watched her go before he refused who was in charge and the master of this game, grabbing her hand again and tangoing with her.
Each time Gabriella tried pushing away from him, the seductive player had a trick to make her stay longer. Twirling her around, he brought her back to him, her back pressed against his chest. He guided her hips with his hands, the two of them swaying together, as he took his time running his hands through her body, feeling as much as her clothes would allow. Letting out a small sigh, she titled her head against his shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck he imprinted lingering kisses upon. She allowed herself to fall for it again, his tricks and charms, to give into the temptation she couldn't get enough of.
Looking up, she noticed him sneaking a peek at a cute high school chick with flaming red and a nose ring. She scowled to herself, and soon smirked, realizing two can play this game.
This is pathetic 'n' sardonic
It's sadistic 'n' psychotic
Tango is not for three
Gabriella managed to return Robbie's attention towards her as she grinded her hips against him, rubbing against his erection nice and slow, smirking at the trembling response she was getting. Completely under her control, he leaned in close, as if he were ready to kiss her.
Was never meant to be
But you can try it, rehearse it
Or train like a horse
But don't you count on me
Oh don't you count on me boy
Objection! I don't wanna be the exception
To get a bit of your attention
I love you for free and I'm not your mother
But you don't even bother
Objection! I'm tired of this triangle
Got dizzy dancing tango
I'm fallin' apart in your hands again
No way I've got to get away
Get away, get away, hey, hey, hey, get away
She cupped his face, leaned in, and kissed the corner of his mouth, teasing him by deliberately missing his mouth. Then she pushed him away, knocking him down to the floor, done with him and his womanizing. With a sweet kiss and a smug smirk curled on her lips, she blew across his wave, and then she dismally flipped her hair and sashayed away. Letting a dazed Rob stunned as she managed to free herself.
I'm fallin' apart in your hands again
Get away
I'm fallin' apart in your hands again
Get away
Get away
Laughing, Gabriella went back to help Robbie up. The two held hands as they took their bows, accepting the applause and cheers. And accepting the nice tips customers handed them in person or left in their tip jars.
"Never would have guessed the day a girl would manage to free herself from me." Rob told her playfully. Gabriella half-heartedly rolled her eyes.
"Don't get cocky, Rob," she warned. "You're not all that."
"Oh really?" Gabriella did not like the devilish glint in his eye as he took a step closer to her. And could little to brace herself as she found herself entangled in his arms again, being dipped low, and Rob covering kisses all over her face, making her laugh out and at the same time want to punch him.
"Rob, you gilipollas!" she said between laughs, trying to be serious even though the giggles refused to stop.
"You know you love me," He kissed her on her nose, her cheeks, and finally her lips, where he kissed her the longest, igniting a loud yells and cat-calls. "Tell me you love me."
Giggling, all she could do was swiftly turn her head away back and forth whenever he would come near.
"Gabriella?"
Her laughter ceased as she heard her name being said by a familiar voice. She opened her eyes and looked up, seeing Bolton standing in front of them, his blue eyes glancing from her to Rob and back again.
"Pup?"
"Hey." he said a moment later.
Once Robbie pulled her up, Gabriella stepped away from him and studied the boy. She couldn't be sure, but he looked upset for some reason. Almost pissed. "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I might get myself some coffee." he said, glancing her way, then quickly returning his eyes back on Robbie, his expression hostile and eyes hard. "Unless you two are too busy."
Gabriella frowned at him. What was hell was his problem?
Robbie, on the other hand, looked more amused than insulted by the boy's rudeness. He placed his arms around her waist, leaned in close, and whispered with a teasing tone in his voice "Gabi, you have a new novio. And you didn't tell me? Or is he a new socio para follar?"
"First off, cállate!" She couldn't believe he would actually say that, even though her friend was known to have a very dirty mind. And she couldn't believe the smile tugging on her lips refused to go away. Especially as he rocked her back and forth, tickling her sides. "Second, vete a la mierda!"
"You offering?" he asked in his overly done, made for chuckles, sexy voice that cracked her up every time she heard it.
Gabriella would have told him "You wish", but decided to elbow him in his gut, making sure to get him hard enough to shut him up. As she walked back to the counter, with pup behind her, and he went to the back room to grab more napkins, she made a mental note to herself not to teach Robbie any more Spanish. It was more than enough he said nasty things in English, she couldn't let her do in her native tongue either.
"What do you want?" she asked Troy.
You. It immediately popped into his mind before he could control it. His cheeks aflame in mortification.
Just as she promised, Sharpay came over to Troy's house last night with the goods. He was a bit doubtful during the week she would find anything, because his own research turned out nothing. Gabriella had no Twitter, no Facebook, and there were one too many Gabriella Montezs to search for in the Internet. But Sharpay found out more.
Gabriella's old high school in New York City was LaGuardia Arts, one of the top best performing arts school he knew enough from Sharpay and Ryan it was an insane school to get into. She got an audition thanks to her ballet teacher, who had connections with the school, and won a full-time dancer scholarship to the school. Unsurprisingly, she was one of the best dancers in the school, hailed as a Shakira in the making with a free-spirit style of Debbie Allen and the passionate fierceness of Paula Abdul.
On the school's website, there were thousands of pictures and videos of last year's spring showcase. The theme was a dedication to the King of Pop. The most viewed videos were of dance numbers that included Gabriella. From a distorted zombie in Thriller, an Egyptian slave in Remember the Time, and, Troy's favorite, the vixen Suzie from Blood on the Dance floor ready to seduce and kill.
Troy found out she started dancing young. Not only dancing, either, but was actually part of a dance company, a rather famous one that traveled all over the world every summer and performed amazing numbers, since she was seven. The directors (and also choreographers) behind the troupe were Madame Natalia Groski, a famous Polish ballerina, Bruno Tonioli and Len Goodman from Dancing With the Stars, and the Debbie Allen. Because all four came from different style backgrounds, the dances the troupe did was basically everything from ballet, modern, step, tango, flamenco, and others.
So this is the famous Madame Groksi, Troy thought, eyeing a picture of the woman standing next to Debbie. It was hard to guess her age, possibly between late thirties to early fifties, but she was dramatic looking with her crimson hair and dark eyes that warned no foolishness.
Sharpay burned a DVD of the company's two hour performance in Italy, which they watched in his room. The music was amazing, the energy coming from the dancers and musicians was definitely there, but it was Gabriella he couldn't take his eyes off of. In every number she was, she shined like a star. The way she moved, completely letting go and losing herself in the music, was like nothing he ever seen before. And Sharpay, who had her mouth drop till the screen went black.
Gabriella did a graceful ballet to a rendition of Beyonce's Halo and Seal's Kiss by a Rose, partnered with a tall African American guy who looked about a year or two older than her. The two were intimate and loving in every gesture, smile, and step. She looked beautiful, with her raven hair tied into a high bun and a white rose clipped in the center, dressed in a pure white ballerina costume with a powdery white tutu, shiny pointe ballet shoes, and a bodice with silver and gold sparkling stitching.
Troy wished he was here. Throughout every performance, there were millions of amazing shots he would have taken and developed.
Besides her school and the company, there were other facts Sharpay found out.
Her favorite color was red.
She won every prize in writing at LaGuardia, proving she had more than one talent. For plays, poems, and short stories. Some even got published in the New York Times that received amazing reviews from the readers.
She was also a beauty with a brain. To Troy's shock, she scored an unbelievable 1920 on the SATs', seventy points higher than him and amazingly twenty points higher than Taylor's.
She worked at Starbucks on Wayward Street.
Other than that, there wasn't much to go about her.
"Jesus, Shar," he mumbled at five o'clock in the morning, rubbing his eyes hard to keep himself awake. Their butts have been planted on his couch all night, their legs long past fell asleep. "Who is this girl?"
Sharpay yawned first, loudly, into her fist and absentmindedly scratched her hair, trying to straighten it as she shook off the tiredness. She shrugged at him and said "She's…just her. She likes keeping a low profile."
"No shit." He murmured, more to himself than her.
"Why do you like her?" Sharpay asked. "Not be rude or anything, but it really is surprising. In the twelve years I have known you, Troy, I know you never fallen for a girl like this. What makes her so different from the others?"
It was the question he couldn't answer right away because his brain was full of mush and tried to process what he learned and saw. Despite the lack of sleep it received. It was also an answer he didn't come up with, even after Sharpay left. All he knew was it wasn't enough. Sure, he knew more facts than before, but it wasn't enough. There had to be more.
Gabriella told him yesterday they wouldn't be able to rehearse because she had work, and since his brain was dead tired he thought maybe some strong coffee would wake it up. He figured he might as well go to Starbucks. And if Gabriella happened to be there, then maybe something would happen.
Troy realized, sitting outside his car and watching the commotion Starbucks, he made an error. He didn't think things through, which he does before anything else, and gone on impulse, which backfired on him.
What was he suppose to do if he saw her? What would she say? What would he say?
Forward to later, he finally found his courage to go inside. He had nothing to worry about, though, because Gabriella didn't notice him. She was too busy dancing with a co-worker. The guy had his arms around her, touching her and holding her close. She grinded against him, letting him kiss her neck and other places, enjoying the show they were giving. She even let him kiss her on the lips in front of everyone, giving birth to the nasty jealous monster growing within him that wanted to pull her away from the guy and punch the living hell out of the guy.
When she finally noticed him, this time he was the one barely paying attention to her. He was busy focusing on the guy whose arms were still wrapped around her. The same guy, whose eyes were unreadable as Gabriella's, wore an amused smirk on his face as he glanced back and forth between him and her. He was around Troy's height, maybe a few inches taller, broad-shouldered, and looked fit.
Troy wondered if he was the same guy who rode Gabriella to school that day. Her boyfriend?
"Bolton!" After the fifth or sixth time Gabriella snapped her fingers in front of his face, he was taken out of his thoughts and brought back to the present. For a moment he was dazed, wondering what Gabriella was doing, until it dawned to him he was suppose to be ordering instead of daydreaming and holding up the line. She looked impatient and pissed, just like the other twelve customers behind him. "Are you going to order or what?"
"I need my coffee now!"
"Move it or lose it, buddy!"
"Hurry up already!"
"Um," Troy said, his eyes quickly scanning the menu. "A caramel iced frappuccino."
Nodding, Gabriella typed in the order into the cash register. "Anything else?"
You, his mind repeated louder, but Troy silenced it. "Um," He glanced at the treats on display. "Two loaves of the marble and a cinnamon roll."
He handed her his black American Express card, she fixed his coffee and snacks, and he was handed his order.
"Next." she automatically called out.
Troy sat down at a small table near the continents station. While he drank his iced coffee and ate his snacks, he kicked himself repeatedly for being such an idiot. Why was it every time she was near him, common sense flew out the window when he needed it the most?
In between bites and sips, Troy glanced back at Gabriella, watching her deal with a dozen more customers. When everyone was all set and no one else came up to her, she took out her book and picked up where she left off. He decided it was time to make his move.
"Hey." he said, approaching her slowly.
"Hey." she replied, paying more to the book than him.
"So, um, can we talk somewhere else? In private?"
She then glanced up at him. Her eyes not hard, but curious and firm, searching into his like she was trying to find something. Turning back, she cried out "Rob, cover for me. I'll be back in ten."
Grabbing her bag, Gabriella led him through the back way, outside the alley. She sat down on a milk crate left behind by a lazy employee, lit a Marlboro, and took a long drag, letting a stream of smoke escape from the corner of her mouth.
Leaning against the brick wall, Troy watched her smoked, fascinated. "How many packs do you smoke a day?"
"One, maybe two," she shrugged, taking another drag. "Depends how stress I am."
"How do you get them?"
She shrugged again. "Through my brother and other sources."
"Right." He nodded, and silence fell between them.
Gabriella, with a shake and sigh, broke it by tossing her cigarette to the ground and stomping on it to ashes. Standing up, she wiped her hands on her jeans, looked up at Troy, and said "Bolton, I know you didn't come all this way to discuss my smoking habits. Why are you here?"
Troy was taken back a bit by her forwardness. She didn't waste time. "Okay. What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Sleeping." she answered.
He frowned at her, which brought a half-smirk to her lips. "And?"
"More sleeping."
"Cute," he remarked. She fully smirked and acknowledged the comment with a bow. "Okay. Since you're working today, I was wondering if maybe you want to rehearse tomorrow."
"At Vicznor's?"
"There or," He silently cursed the bone-dryness that suddenly came upon his throat. To make matters worse, two patches of bright red colored his cheeks. "We can rehearse at my house."
She arched her eyebrow; that was as much as a surprise reaction he was going to get from her. Troy quickly explained he had nothing planned for tomorrow since all his homework was done, his mom was in New York on business, and his dad would be watching the game at a friend's house.
While he spoke, she never took her eyes off him, her gaze intense, which made he nearly choke on every word he said. "Alright." she said when he finished.
For a second Troy thought he heard her wrong. But seeing her steady, unblinking eyes he knew otherwise. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." she confirmed.
Inside Starbucks, Troy wrote down his address on a napkin, along with his house and cell phone number, and they arranged for her to come around ten.
"You know what, pup? When you asked me what I was doing on tomorrow, I thought you were asking me out or something." she said.
Troy's heart stopped as she said those words. He quickly ducked his head, avoiding her eyes, while feeling hers watching him. "I-um-Can't. I'm focusing on my grades and basketball. Don't have time for distractions."
With his friends, he had no trouble telling them his goals. With his family, his parents seemed pleased, if you counted his mom typing away on her Blackberry and his dad reading the paper as they both nodded pleased. But with Gabriella, an uneasy feeling came over him. The words sounded hollow, flat, and made him sound like a nerd with nothing better to do.
Gabriella nodded, uninterested. She stuffed the written napkin and got back to work. Troy watched her go, then cried out "If I did, would you be interested?"
She slowly turned back to him and smirked, increasing the volumes of her beauty and reminded him of the exotic dreams where she wore that smirk. "Considering the fact, I don't date…that would be a no."