Training began outside as the Wildcats joined the Spurs. As the warm up officially started, Scott and Jack both noticed a distinct absence of Troy. Scott had decided to let Troy emerge in his own time, but Jack had other ideas. As Scott continued to yell orders to those in training, Jack went to 'retrieve his whistle' from the change rooms.

Troy picked himself up off the floor and walked into the Wildcat locker space. The only hint that time had passed was that some of the names of the lockers had changed. But his was still there, right in between Jason and Zeke, as though he had never left. He walked over to it, looking at the lock which was surprisingly still in tact. He reached into Jason's locker (he never locked his) and fished out the spare key. He could hardly believe he remembered where he had left it, let alone that it was still there, stuck by blue tack to the inside roof of Jason's locker. He stood there before his locker, contemplating opening it. He figured he might as well. He slid the key in, and the lock sprung open, just as it always had. He removed the lock and opened the door. The door of his locker looked the way it did just before his 'accident', he hadn't opened it since. Polaroid pics were jammed around the edge of the locker, stuck in the gap between the 2 layers of metal. He pulled one of them out. It was one of him, Chad, Jason and Zeke at a summer basketball camp they had gone to when they were 14. He had always liked this pictured. They all looked so young and happy as they pulled faces for the camera. At the time, Troy thought life couldn't get any better. He pulled down another picture; it was he, Gabriella, Ryan, Sharpay and Kelsie after the final show of Twinkle Towne. He remembered his dad had refused to come to the production, and Troy had given up trying to ask him. You can't fight fire with fire.

Troy heard someone walk up behind him. He stopped dead, hoping it was a random or Coach, but no luck.

"Troy?" Troy would know that voice anywhere, it had haunted him for years, playing over in his head like a broken record screaming that he was a failure.

"Don't call me that." Troy was still facing his locker.

"But that's your name."

"No. Troy was a slave to you and your wants. Now he is dead." Jack said nothing for a long while. Knowing it was pointless to argue, he simply placed a think book down on the bench. But before walking out, he said:

"This is for you."

Troy listened to him leave. When he was satisfied Jack was gone he turned around. Before him on the bench lay a very overstuffed, tattered exercise book. After hesitating, Troy reached out and picked up the book, sat down and opened it. The pages of the book were crumpled and ripped, some of them stained, not just by age but by drops of alcohol, and what Troy didn't recognise as Jack's tears. The pages were crammed with papers: details of every flight, train and bus out of Albuquerque since the day Troy left. Pages scribbled with the numbers of everybody Troy had ever known, most of them crossed out, one or two with little notes beside them. There were pages and pages of information of every YMCA, youth hostel and mission home in both New Mexico and Texas. A lot of them had notes written over them of the names of the people working there, and possible descriptions of people who could be Troy. Then there were copies of all the reports and communications between him and the police. There were details of accidents of unidentified people, as well as the numbers of all hospitals in the state that he had put on alert for any news of Troy. Troy was not surprised to find details of all basketball competitions in the State, which Jack had checked for Troy's entry. However he was surprised to find details of all musical events, lists of open mike nights and karaoke nights offering cash rewards for Troy's name, or a song that Troy had sung before. Troy continued to flip through the book, tears threatening to fall. Any possible way of ever finding someone was held within these withered pages. Jack had searched for him, dedicating all his time, efforts and money into relocating his son. Troy knew he held in his hands the justification for forgiving Jack. But making that decision was harder than just having to face hating your own father. At least that way he doesn't have to make a choice. He put the book down next to him and just sat on the bench staring into space.

Back out at training, Scott was becoming worried that Troy was still in the change rooms. He watched the Spurs and the Wildcats doing drills alongside each other, and knowing Jack had everything under control, went into the locker area. He found Troy sitting on a bench, staring into space. One of the lockers was open, and next to him laid an open scrapbook.

"Trey, you good?" He asked, bring Troy back from his trance.

"I uh, I don't think I can train today Coach." Scott looked at the boy. A rough night followed by a rough day and drained him of the entire colour in his face. He decided to let it go.

"Ok. But you're here or you're at the hotel ok." Troy nodded. He grabbed his bag, but the book and the stuff from his locker in it, slammed to the locker door and walked out.

The Wildcats and the Spurs were on a water break when Troy left the gym; hence, they all saw him go. The gym was only half filled now, as the initial hype had worn off. The gang had gone to sit out under the tree out the front of the school to have an early lunch. Coach Burns exited the change room area shortly after Troy and headed over to the group.

"He ok Coach?" Asked Jay.

"He's fine." Coach said, in a voice which only his team would recognise as a 'don't' ask questions' tone. "He's just tired from last night."

Troy walked out the front door of East High. The sun was down shining at him, so he scowled at it for being so cheerful. He had no idea where the hotel was. Shit. He walked up to the road and looked left and right, hoping he might magically know the way. He let out a deep sigh, and rubbed the back of head; he was not in the mood for this. He looked around him, making sure no one was around as he pulled out a cigarette. He spotted Ryan and the girls under a tree, trying to pretend they weren't watching him. He lit up none the less; they had seen worse, he figured. As he breathed the toxin into his lungs and back out again, he felt slightly calmer. His Coach would kill him for smoking, but trying to end all your bad habits at once was too hard, so he had accidentally kept one. Besides he enjoyed smoking. He sat down on the front steps of the school, just enjoying the taste of tobacco and menthol. The gang were about 4 metres away talking amongst themselves, but still fully aware of his movements. A kid walked up to him, wearing a Spurs supporter's jersey.

"Hey! Your Trey Parker!" Troy put his cigarette down next to him.

"That's right."

"You're my favourite player! When we play, I always say I'm you!" Troy let out a small laugh, and it felt good.

"Thanks kid."

"Will you sign my shirt? Oh please all my friends would be so jealous!" Again Troy laughed at the kid's enthusiasm.

"Hahaha sure kid, what's your name?"

"I'm Derek." Troy wrote him a message on the back of his shirt and gave the kid back his pen.

"Wow thanks! Any tips you can give me to make me better?"

"Yeah. Don't ever start smoking." With that the kid smiled and walked off. Troy picked up his cigarette, feeling slightly better about the day, and himself. He hoped than when he was a child, he had given someone this feeling that everything is going to be ok. Kids just seem to have a way of doing that. Holding his cigarette in his mouth, Troy opened his bag and tipped out the contents. He scavenged through the contents, finally being able to scrape up 40c for a pay phone. He put all his stuff back in his bag, and got up, and walked over to the pay phone, unfortunately situated about 1 meter from Ryan and the girls. He finished his cigarette and put it out on the edge of the payphone. He put in his change and while holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, rolled up his sleeve to reveal a number. The number was that of Rachel, the dancer he was with last night. He didn't remember her very well, but he was desperate. He dialled the number and leant against the phone box as he waited for it to ring. Eventually someone picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Rachel, it's Troy, from last night."

"Hahahaha yeah I remember, well vaguely."

"You and me both baby. But hey I'm doing ok, I know your name and that you're 23." Troy said, relieved she was in the same shoes as him.

"Hahaha well done! How was the night behind bars?"

"Hahaha they weren't even going to let me out this morning! My parole officer was called in and everything. But in the end the warden was a fan so he let me go. I think it was a much bigger shock for Jay, I think it was his first time in trouble with the law."

"Hahahaha maybe. So, what can I do for you slick? Or did you just call to chat?"

"Hahaha 1 night and you already know me. Actually, as fun as this is, I need a ride."

"Hahaha slave driver. How far?"

"I dunno, I lost my hotel, I can't remember where it is." Troy said, laughing at himself.

"Wow you really were drunk!"

"Yeah tell me about it. I'm at East High. You far?"

"Nah, two secs down the road."

"Sweet, You're a legend. I'll cya in a sec then." Troy heard the dial tone, feeling happy he had solved his latest predicament, and had a friend in this town that wasn't watching his every move. Troy went and sat back down on the steps. As he did, the boys from the gang, except of course Ryan came out the front door and went down and sat next the girls. Troy willed every part of him not to acknowledge their presence. He had had enough for one day. As though on cue, Rachel pulled up. She was tanned with sleek straightened brown hair and bright green eyes and wearing a low cut red Singlet top, ie, she looked hot (I can't remember my previous description. I am basing her on Erica from Summerland, in not only looks but also personality and relationship w/ Troy). She was driving a very snazzy 2 seater convertible sports car, her hair blowing in the breeze like she was a model in a shoot. She had quite loud music on. Troy looked up smiling as he saw her.

"Come on punk, you're buying me lunch, don't keep me waiting!" She called out to him laughing. Troy got up with a grin on his face, grabbed his bag and headed over to her. She lifted herself out of her seat to sit on the headrest as he came over to her and greeted her by kissing her on the cheek. He leapt over the door and sat on the headrest of the passenger's side, secretly very pleased that he was in such hot company in front of the gang, who all thought he was a loser (that's only what Troy thinks, not the truth).

"Thankyou so much you're a lifesaver!" She gave him a big sexy smile.

"No thankyou Mr. Big Basketball Player, for lunch!" Troy laughed.

"Fine by me as long as we can find an atm first. So where are we eating?"

The gang never heard the end of this conversation; as they watched Troy and his incredibly hot something (they couldn't work out what to classify her) speed off towards town.

Hey Guys I know this is short but I hadn't posted in a few days cuz my train off thought got derailed! Thanks so much munchkin pants for your help it was very much appreciated, and thanks for updating ur fic! Any other suggestions are welcome of course by all, cuz although the story is slowly forming in my head, 2 heads are always better than one, unless they're on one body gross! (Sorry if you have one no offence). I know this is a filler, but the action continues as Troy confronts Emma! (I sound like a commercial ahahaha )