ET chapter 25: Sherlock Pup and the Eager Beaver
Space and time, those were what she wanted. May even be what she needed. So he was giving her that.
Seemed easy enough
Too bad it was so damn hard.
Troy groaned, reading the text message for the thousandth time in a row.
He resisted the urge to text her. To tell her he watched Carmen Jones, a modern interpretation of the play, which he preferred to the movie. To tell her it was amazing. To tell her she reminded him a lot of Carmen Jones, who put her freedom above anything else, including love.
On second thought maybe it was good thing he was giving her space. She was already edging around the word "feelings" If anything more was brought into the equation, then he might as well pull a trigger.
Thankfully he had other things to keep him occupy in the meantime.
And he had Sharpay who reminded him of an important one the next day at school.
"Have any idea who set up your girlfriend?" Appearing out of nowhere, clad in signature pink and sparkles, Sharpay handed him one of the two steaming-hot, large French vanillas she picked up from Dunkin Donuts.
Troy accepted the drink but frowned at her. "She's not my girlfriend."
"Details." She rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee as they walked into the school building.
Pest. Troy shook his head.
Chad soon appeared to his left, walking in sync with his friends. He ruffled Sharpay's hair, messing up her bun, and fist-bumped Troy. "What's up, Captain? Blondie Barbie?"
Rolling her eyes, Sharpay murmured something unintelligent under her breath. Troy smiled at his best friend and said "Hey Chad."
"So you find out who framed your girlfriend?"
What?!
Troy's first reaction as to spit out the large gulp of coffee he had just taken in if it wasn't already halfway down his throat, resulting in him nearly choking while droplets of coffee leaked from his mouth.
His friends were no help to him whatsoever. Instead of aiding a friend in need, they were laughing their heads off at his expense, which had him plotting the best tactics of revenge.
"Not. Funny." Troy growled once oxygen was miraculously restored to him.
"Says you." Chad said. Sharpay laughed harder.
Snarling, Troy made him way over to the library, leading his band of laughing idiots as he headed upstairs to the non-fiction section, which guaranteed privacy from unwanted eavesdroppers.
Settling down at one of the tables, Troy glared at his friends, still pissed about the early-morning choking.
"One, Gabriella is not my girlfriend."
Chad shrugged. "Sure-for now. But that could change. You definitely have the hots for her, my friend."
"He so wants her." Sharpay smirked.
He so wanted to smash their heads together, but he wasn't a violent person. Besides he couldn't afford getting bad marks on his record. He settled his taste of vengeance with a hard glare. "Irrelevant. And I thought, Sharpay, we were keeping this little matter between us."
"I did," Sharpay said. "Then I started brainstormed and needed a second brain to tell and exchange notes with. You're pretty much useless to call since you're busy with homework and training with your dad. I wanted to tell Kelsi, but she was too busy doing my brother to be much of help. I knew Tay would have the whole barn if I told her what was going on. Martha was busy with dance squad, fulfilling her duties as the new captain since Homes got the boot. So I reached out to my fourth best gal pal."
Chad looked like he was crossed between amusement and disbelief. "I don't know whether I should feel flattered or insulted."
"Well, how do you feel?" Sharpay asked.
"Strangely both."
"Then go with that feeling."
Sometimes it hard to figure out how exactly he remained friends with these two for so long. Alone, they caused him a headache. Together they were a double-featured, skull-splitting migraine.
Sharpay lightly tapped Troy with her nail filer that she retrieved from her bag, bringing him back to plant earth, and worked on her left pinkie. "Now since that problem is resolved, let's move onto more important things. Did you figure out who framed your girlfriend?"
"She's not my-" Oh, what was the point wasting his breath when his words fell on deaf ears? "I have a list of possible suspects."
He spent the majority of the night going through most of his yearbooks and checking up his classmates' profiles, trying to connect them to the crime. People whose glares were hostile towards Gabriella. People who didn't appreciate her sharp wit. People who may suffered in one way or the other because of her.
He came up with five suspects.
The first was Ian Throne, the cocky quarterback who made it his mission to get into Gabriella's pants. Right after winter break he tried groping her in front of the student body. It was the football team's idea of marking their territory, which quickly went downhill when Gabriella Black-Widowed his ass.
As humiliating as that might have been, Gabriella's terrifying threat overpowered humiliation. Throne wasn't a smart guy, but even he wasn't that stupid to cross her after that, so his name got crossed off.
Next was Taylor McKessie. It was no secret that Taylor didn't like her, expressing her disdain for the girl on her first day. There was something about Gabriella that rubbed Taylor the wrong way, and the fact that she had been corrected in class by Gabriella on more than one occasion certainly didn't make things better.
Last but not least, the Terror Trio: Heather Homes, Gwen Davis and Amanda Fallen.
After reviewing the list in silence, Chad looked right into Troy's eyes and said "It's not Taylor, Troy."
Troy wasn't at all surprised to hear Chad say something like that. He was her boyfriend after all.
His facial expression must have showed some signs of doubts because a dark frown appeared on Chad's face. "Look, I know Tay can have her moments that actually outdo Sharpay's dramatics-"
"Hey!" Sharpay said.
Carrying not, he continued "But Taylor would never do something like that. She may be harsh sometimes, but she's not nasty."
Troy looked over at Sharpay.
"Though I resent previous comment about my dramatic flair, which I can guarantee for a fact will win me an Oscar and a Tony in five years time; I have to agree with the Afro. Also, I'd like to add this. There's a difference between playing dirty and being downright nasty. Framing someone of drug-possession is the definition of downright nasty."
Troy didn't bother arguing with them. He had been thinking the same thing two when he was comparing Taylor and Heather, recalling the different ways the two dealt with people.
"Okay, so it's clear Ian may but dumb, but doesn't want a Gabriella death wish. We also agree that it couldn't be Taylor," They nodded. Troy nodded and crossed her name out. "Which leaves us with only three suspects, but I think it's clear they might as well be one."
Linking Amanda and Gwen to Heather, Troy circled her name, marking her as the ringleader.
"Guilty." Chad stated.
"So guilty." Sharpay added.
Another point Troy didn't argue with.
Heather, Gwen, and Amanda did have their asses handed to them when Gabriella sent the Principal of the three harassing that poor girl. They served their time and were kicked out of the clubs that helped fuel their popularity.
Troy remembered seeing Heather standing by Gabriella's locker before free period. Then again, this time with Gwen, after free period.
And one of the things Heather was most known for was letting go of grudges by getting even.
Chad folded his hands behind his head and leaned back against his chair. "Well, it's not a matter of knowing who did. The issue is going to be getting a confession."
"Chad's right," Sharpay frowned. "Even with the motive, we still need proof otherwise Matsui will just think we're trying to pin it on them. And I think we will know Heather Homes will sooner give a blow-job to the captain of the chess team than confess to something that could get her in even more trouble."
"Well," Troy said. "Maybe it doesn't have to be Heather."
Quickly catching on, Chad smiled. "So we look at Gwen and Amanda."
"And I have the perfect idea on how to get the confession." Sharpay smiled wickedly.
There was something about that wicked smile that gave Troy the idea he wasn't going to like what Sharpay had in mind.
After lunch he spotted Gwen by her locker, arranging her massive lip-gloss collection that took up a lot in her locker and checking her phone every five seconds. Probably seeing what was going on in Twitter or waiting to hear from Heather.
For Gabriella, he reminded himself, walking towards her.
Leaning against the locker behind her, Troy gave her his best charming smile. "Hey. How's it going, Gwen?"
Her lips were set in a nasty thin line when she heard someone besides her. The line grew into a big smile when she looked up and locked eyes with Troy. "Hi Troy."
"I was just wondering if you can help me with something."
"Like what?"
Good question. Troy raked through the list of all his classes, trying to put Gwen's face to one of them. History he had Amanda. Homeroom he dealt with all three of their eyes boring holes into his skull. Lab he-wait, lab.
She was in his fourth period lab class for Anatomy.
"With lab. I heard Mr. Gallo might give us a pop quiz on Thursday and I don't have the notes."
Gwen laughed, flipping her hair back in a very Heather-like style. The chuckle though reminded Troy too much of a pig snort. "I never worry about that class. It's a breeze."
Thanks to the brainics she pays to do all her lab work and who she copies off of whenever they have an exam.
"Well," Troy said. "I can't really concentrate on that. Guess I'm too distracted by a pretty brunette."
Gwen, obviously believing the dream girl was her, put her hand over her heart and looked like she was about to die of happiness. "Oh Troy."
Oh brother.
He pasted a smile onto his face as he said "So I was wondering if we can meet up later and exchange notes. If you know what I mean."
"Like a date?" Her eyes twinkled excitedly at the thought.
"More so study." Emphasis on the study.
"Oh God, it finally happened. It actually happened." Gwen whispered to herself, momentarily forgetting about Troy's presence. "The sweet goddess of goodness finally decided to bestow her goodness onto me. Before Heather."
The sweet goddess of what? Troy looked at her, puzzled, while she continued to talk to herself.
"Good things have always happen to Heather first. Did you know that? Always. Since preschool when she got the Dream Malibu Barbie dream house, which I desperately wanted. With the convertible, 2 Malibu Kens, and the last Malibu Barbie Toysrus had left."
I wonder if this is cue to leave, thought Troy.
"It only got worse and more unfair as we got older. She got the designer clothes first, the newest cars, the newest phones, the hottest boyfriends. Except you," Gwen slowly turned to Troy. The gleam in her eyes was close to the crazy side. "And she's been trying to get you since seventh grade after her birthday party."
The same party where Troy found himself locked in the closet during a game of seven minutes of heaven, getting slobbered on by Heather. She had her tongue so far down Troy's throat, he was sure she was trying to dig her way to China.
"But you, the boy she's been pining over, picked me. Me. Which means I finally have something over the bitch."
Troy was five seconds away from retreating before Gwen yanked him back to her. "My house. Seven 'o'clock."
"I'll be there."
"Oh, you will be," Gwen nodded. "You will be."
Troy gently pried her fingers off him, gave him one last smile, and walked over to Sharpay. As soon as he had a good yard distance between him and Gwen, his smile fell.
A smile that turned into a snarl when he saw how amused Sharpay looked. And how close she was to losing it.
"Not. One. Word."
"How about a phrase? You two looked so cute together." Sharpay cooed, pinching his cheek.
Troy slapped her hand away and walked away.
With the help of GPS, Troy parked in front of Gwen's house. A modest yet large three-story white, polished house.
"I don't know if I can do this, guys," he confessed to Chad and Sharpay in a three-way phone call. "I feel dirty."
"Then take a shower." Dr. Watson 2 a.k.a Chad suggested.
"Not helping. I'm not sure I can go through with this. I feel like I'm using this girl."
"It's not like you're doing her."
"Once again, not helping."
Sharpay decided to take over, Dr. Watson 1. "And once again, you're over-thinking and hesitating, Sherlock Holmes. I agree with the other Watson. You're not using Gwen. You're just planting bait and waiting for the fishies to come in."
"Wow," Chad said. "I'm impressed. You actually used a decent metaphor that didn't sound stupid."
"Screw you, Danforth," Sharpay repiled. "Listen Troy, it may seem like using to you, but it's only to help a friend."
"Who you obviously want to have as your girlfriend." Chad put in.
"Shut up, Danforth!" Sharpay and Troy said in unison.
"Just saying."
Over the phone Troy heard a loud thump followed by a cry of pain. Something told him Chad and Sharpay were in the same room together, using different phones.
"That hurt." Chad complained.
"Was meant to," Sharpay repiled. "Listen, Troy, don't forget who Gwen Davis is. The world's most annoying chatterbox. One of the most conniving girls at school. Do you remember the hell they put Kelsi through freshmen year? The cyber-bullying and I Hate Nelson page Gwen made on Facebook?"
"I'm with Shar, man," Chad said. "Gwen may not hold the Queen Bitch crown like Heather, but she's definitely the princess of cattiness."
Troy remembered the day three mean girls harassed that poor lower classman. All over a slightly-scarped shoe. While Gwen didn't lay a hand on her, she didn't step in and stop the torture. She took out her Blackberry and wanted to capture everything for Facebook.
Chad was right. Gwen wasn't the Queen Bitch like Heather, but she definitely was the reigning princess of mean.
With new-found determination, Troy hung up and proceeded with the plan, walking up to Gwen's front door and knocking on the door. A second later it was opened by a heavyset, bored-looking Italian woman in her late sixties who wasn't at all surprised to see Troy standing there.
"Hello, ma'am. I'm-"
"Upstairs. Second door on the left." She said before heading down the hall.
"Troy Bolton."
Okay, clearly this isn't the first time housekeepers instructed guys to Gwen's house.
Troy, climbing up the long staircase that led into a wide hallway, wondered how many though.
The second door on the left had Gwen's name printed in bright, bold pink against a golden background. The two colors reminded him of Sharpay.
"Gwen." Troy knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Troy stepped in and then nearly stepped out.
All the lights were turned off for the two dozen white mini candles that were set around the place. In front of the princess canopy bed was two bottles of wine. On the white, frilly nightstand was a half-empty bottle of wine.
Sprawled across the bed, dressed in dark lavender, black-laced night-slip that was sheer and left little to the imagination was Gwen.
Oh my dear God. What had he gotten himself into?
"Hello Troy."
"Um…" was all he could say. It was all anyone could say in a situation like the one he was currently experiencing and trying to process.
"You're so right," Gwen got up from the bed and, on unsteady feet, walked over to Troy. He saw there was nothing underneath the gown except for a pair of barely-there thong panties. "Why speak when we can do so much more interesting things?"
The words "wet" and "dog" came to Troy's mind as Gwen crushed her lips against his in a hard, eager kiss.
What is it with these girls and throat-digging?
It took a full minute and nearly all his strength to break himself from Gwen's wet, strong hold. His lips were completely coated in layers of her spit.
Gross.
"Gwen, let's take things slow. Put a brake on this."
"You're right," she agreed before pushing him hard onto her bed. She straddled his hips, giving him a sultry smirk. "The bed is so much better."
He couldn't help comparing her smirk to Gabriella's and how the two drew different reactions from him. When Gabriella smirked like that, he could feel his insides twisting and shaking in anticipation. When Gwen smirked like that, she reminded him of an eager pre-teen rushing to lose the big-V as if it were some sort of contest.
Which increased the awkward level of this situation.
"Um, okay. Alright before we do that, let me just grab a few things. Okay?"
Gwen pouted but complied, sneaking another wet kiss from him before rolling off him.
Troy scooted across the large queen-size bed to the other side. He laid his backpack on the ground, checked inside to make sure his things didn't get crush in the ambush, and prepared himself.
When he resurfaced, Gwen had herself another glass of wine.
"Want some? I think it's from that rapper. You know the one who used to date J-Lo? I think his name is P. Diddy. Or maybe it's P. Buddy like that sports dog? You get it? Buddy?" Gwen laughed at her joke like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard in her life.
"No thanks. I don't drink."
"Well," Her eyes twinkled wickedly as her smirk broadened. "There's something you can drink." She got on her knees, pushing out her B-cup breasts toward him.
Oh dear God, was this actually happening to him?
"Um, okay." Forcing his eyes to go from the eyeful of breasts, whose nipples he could see was hard beneath the sheer material. "I was thinking we could take things slow." Like a lot slow. "Or we could just talk?"
Gwen dropped her breasts and looked at Troy confused, as if he were the one holding out his. "Talk?"
"Yeah. Let's talk about you."
It didn't talk much to get Gwen to talking, especially when she herself was her favorite topic of choice. It also helped that she was tipsy and her infamous loose lips were spilling facts and secrets left and right.
Too bad none of those facts or secrets was anything he could use to help Gabriella.
"So," she said an hour later. "that's when I convinced my daddy to get a nose-job for Hanukkah. After all if Shelia was already to get a new bra size to celebrate their month as newly-webs, why shouldn't I get a new nose in celebration of my Jewish roots?"
The logic behind that question was so far off, the expression "off the radar" was nowhere far enough.
Troy gazed longingly at the empty wine bottle Gwen polished off. He'd love nothing more than to grab the bottle and be done with this crap.
Remember Gabriella, Bolton. You're doing this all for Gabriella.
His eyes shifted over to Gwen. She was past the tipsy-stage and now entered full-on drunkenness. She wasn't a horny drunk anymore, thank the Good God. She was more like the sleepy drunk with glassy eyes shutting and popping on repeat, her body lightly swaying against the breeze coming through the window, looking like she was about to crash any second.
If there was ever a time to go, the time was now.
"So it's pretty weird about last week," he said casually, starting his fishing rod before he put it the bait. "Gabriella getting called into Matsui's office, then getting suspended like that."
Like he expected, Gwen burst into loud laughter that shook her small body. "I wouldn't say weird. I'd say payback."
Bingo. "Why do you say that?"
Gwen smiled over the rim of her glass like she was holding onto a very juicy secret. "I mean we're the ones who did it."
Jackpot.
"Wow. That's just-"
"I know," Gwen cut in, sounding quite proud of herself. "Fucking brilliant and totally well-deserved. Hope for that skank's sake, she'll learn you never mess with Heather or us without getting squished like a bug."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it's time someone put the little skank in her place."
"You planted the drugs in her locker?"
Gwen hiccupped, covered her mouth, and laughed a second too late. "Don't be silly, Troy. We never do the physical labor. We have losers to do that for us. Heather first started with the sectary's daughter, Penny Sweets. Or Heets. Or whatever the hell her last name is. Anyway, we made a deal with her. Well, actually, Heather made the deal. She helps us get Montez's locker combination, then Heather hooks up her with a free appointment to a doctor at a clinic a few towns over that have a very strict no-questions policy."
No-questions policy? "What do you mean exactly?"
Gwen snorted, sounding like pig waddling in mud, as she rolled her eyes. She smiled over at Troy like his questions were too cute. "Duh Troy. Why else do girls go to the doctor's in order to avoid the shameful, bulging nine months of shame."
Right. An abortion. The daughter gave up the information to take care of the problem before it became a permanent one.
That answer explained how they gained access to the locker, but it still didn't explain the drugs. Or where they came from. "What about the bag?"
"The bag?" It took close to a minute for the realization to sink in. "Oh! You mean the drugs? Those were a bit trickier."
"How?"
Gwen first reached over for the bottle and tried to get a sip. She looked crushed to see it was empty. Sighing, she answered Troy's question with one of her own, "You know Joel Bono?"
Troy almost shook his head until an image popped into his head. A skinny, tallish boy who looked like the average Joe with red hair so shaggy, no one knew what color were his eyes. Always dressed in a gray sweatshirt, black jeans, and ratty Converses. Doozing off in class at the back of the classroom and trading pharmacy goodies with his stoner buddies during lunch.
Athletes go to him whenever they need an extra boost for a big game. Brainics go to him whenever they need to pull an all-nighter. Some people go to him whenever they want to see the stars.
"Anyway everyone-well not everyone everyone obviously because if teachers find out, he'd be so dead. If Matsui found it, he'd really be dead. Anyway, I'm just rambling off,"
I noticed, Troy thought, trying hard not to roll his eyes, wishing she'd get on with it.
"Anyway everyone knows Bono's candy-man of pills. But we all thought pills weren't really enough. So at lunch we were sitting around brainstorming before Amanda suddenly blurts out "Coke" We looked at her like okay, who the hell are you? I mean I love Amanda and everything, but she really can be dumb sometimes. Or a lot of times," Gwen rolled her eyes. "Then Heather stared at her and started to smile. It wasn't her home-coming queen smile or queen-bee smile. It was her evil mastermind smile. She said we needed bigger guns. We needed Bono's brother."
"His brother?"
"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "Aaron Bono? Remember him? Former track star turned stoner? Used to date Heather's sister, Amber, before she dropped for Shane Mitchell? Works part-time as the night guy? Ring a bell?" Sighing, she waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Anyway," Troy was really starting to hate that word. Especially since this had the fifth or sixth time Gwen said it. "He supplies the much heavier stuff, if you know what I mean. So after she got the brainstorm, Heather quickly arranged a meeting with the brothers at the science lab. Thankfully the nerds were still eating and trading Pokémon cards, so we didn't have to worry about anything dropping into the conversation. Anyway, Heather laid out the cards. The Bono brothers put together a goodie-bag bound to lay Montez in the hot-seat with Matsui, and she'd pay them both five hundred each. On top of that they 'd both receive an invite to Heather's summer-block party, which is bound to bring in good customers willing to pay any piece."
Troy struggled to put the hostility out of his voice. "So they went for it?"
Gwen snorted again, waving another dismissive hand. "Those Bono brothers are tough. Originally they felt like they were being cheated out, so Heather threw in another bonus. She offered them Amanda."
What?!
For a second Troy was sure the wine was finally getting to Gwen. Her words, though, were clear and steady as she told him this startling piece of news.
"What do you mean she offered him Amanda?"
"Oh Troy. You're so clueless, it's really adorable," Gwen patted his cheek and pouted at him. His body tensed at her touch, shivering over her hand. He ordered himself not to push her away. He meet her clearly yet classy hazel eyes. "It's simple. The brothers make the special goodie-bag for Gabriella that gets her ass kicked out of school. The brothers get to do whatever they want with Amanda. A special win-win."
What plant was this girl from?
Troy stared at Gwen in stunned silence, trying but failing not to show hostility. Or outrage. "So you mean you and Heather traded out your best friend like a prostitute?"
And his teammates wondered why he would never date them?
A scowl, the first he'd seen the whole night, darkened Gwen's face. She looked insulted. She shoved him away from her, hissing. "I don't like your tone, buddy. It wasn't as if we pimped her out to him. Basically it's not like Amanda's a virgin or anything. She already did more than half the male population at school. A simply threesome is not going to kill."
What friggering plant was this girl from?
As shocked and outraged he was by what he was hearing, Troy know this meeting wasn't done yet. He needed the full confession before he could put this one to bed. "So you, Gwen Davis, Heather Homes, Amanda Fallen, with the help of Bono brothers, framed Gabriella Montez?"
"Duh," she answered. "Amanda fucked the brothers behind the bleachers. Heather got the locker combo from Penny Sweets. Aaron and Joel put together the goodie-bag. And before the final bell rings-as soon as we made sure the halls were completely clear-Heather opened the locker, and I placed the drug right on the first shelf like so. Easy as one, two, and three."
Damn.
That was all Troy could think. It was the only word that seemed to fit.
Gwen mistook Troy's silence as admiration. Smiling, she leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, taking her time as she kissed him slowly, not noticing how still Troy's lips were against hers. "I know," she whispered. "We're brilliant."
Then, without warning, she clocked out, falling onto her pillow and snoring within seconds.
Troy quickly made his exit, grabbing his backpack and leaving Gwen and her loose lips far behind as he drove his car over to Sharpay's house.
Chad was surfing the web on Sharpay's computer while she lounged on her bed, reading the latest People magazine. They put immediately put away their things as Troy entered the room.
"What happened?" Chad asked.
"Did you get it?" Sharpay demanded.
Troy didn't say anything. He calmly laid his backpack on Sharpay's soft white carpet, one of the few non-pink items in her room, and pulled out a small voice recorder that had been on the full hour.
Pushing the red button, Troy played back the final segment.
"So you, Gwen Davis, Heather Homes, Amanda Fallen, with the help of Bono brothers, framed Gabriella Montez?"
It was odd hearing his voice on the recorder, sounding so loud and clear. It was odder yet satisfying hearing how clear Gwen sounded on the machine, despite how buzzed she was.
"Duh," she answered. "Amanda fucked the brothers behind the bleachers. Heather got the locker combo from Penny Sweets. Aaron and Joel put together the goodie-bag. And before the final bell rings-as soon as we made sure the halls were completely clear-Heather opened the locker, and I placed the drug right on the first shelf like so. Easy as one, two, and three."
Chad's mouth dropped. Sharpay grinned like the Chesire cat. Troy's face was unreadable.
"Those bitches," Sharpay said. "are so dead."
A smile, small but geninue, spread across Troy's somber face. "I couldn't have said it better myself."