I want to start off by apologizing. This update is way overdue. But things have been very hectic, what with upcoming tennis tryouts, preparing for the new school year and all. Also, my cousin passed away just last month, and that was very hard on my family. Please understand, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. Half of it was written two months ago, and the other half I just did today.

He helped her in the car, settling her in her seat before speed-walking around the car and sitting in his own seat. He leaned over the gap between their seats, reaching down to her ankle and grabbing onto the material of her leggings. He tugged up until the stretchy material was at her thigh. He cringed, feeling his heart ache for his girlfriend when he saw the ugly purple bruise that had painted itself across her skin. He ran his hand over her colorful knee cap, ripping his hand away when she gasped in pain. "Something's not right…," he murmured. He was no doctor, but he knew the hard bump in her flesh was not supposed to be there. "I'll go to the nurse," she whispered, her voice raspy with pain. He nodded, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes momentarily. The exhaustion was taking a heavy toll on both of them. He felt her running the back of her soft hand over his cheeks. He smiled gently at the sensation before grabbing her hand and kissing it a few times, before intertwining their hands on his lap, keeping one hand firmly on the wheel.

"Are you sure you're up to driving?"

"Yeah…I'm fine."

Troy sleepily turned on the engine, and they made their way to hell.

Upon entering the building, Troy pulled Gabriella into his side, murmuring "I'll meet you at your locker."

She nodded and stumbled sleepily down the hall towards her locker. He watched after her for a few moments, a small smile playing on his lips, before leaning tiredly against the cold metal of his own locker.

"Long night?"

Troy opened his eyes to see Matt standing in front of him. "Yeah," he muttered in reply.

Matt gritted his teeth. He could only imagine what had kept Troy and Gabriella up so late. He cringed to imagine Troy hovering over Gabriella, her body exposed as she moaned with that smooth, honey-toned voice of hers, her olive skin glowing in the light of the lamp…..

"We were up studying."

Matt would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved.

"Oh. Well…I gotta go. Bye dude."

Troy nodded in response, too tired to form words. He pulled open his locker and shoved his backpack inside, too tired to think of what he was supposed to do next. He stood there, swaying on his feet, his eyes slowly drifting shut…..

BRINGGGGGGGGG!

The second bell rang out, loud and clear, rudely pulling Troy into consciousness. Groaning, he pushed onto his feet, stumbling now that he was no longer leaning against his locker. He trudged to homeroom, tripping into his seat as Mrs. Darbus raised an eyebrow. "Any reason for your tardiness, Mr. Bolton?"

"Sorry," was all he could offer.

Rolling her eyes, she scanned the attendance list once more. "Mr. Bolton?"

He looked up at the sound of his name.

"Any idea where your other half may be?"

The entire school was aware of Troy and Gabriella's glamorous relationship, even the staff.

Blinking heavily, Troy swiveled in his seat to check the desk behind him. His heart stopped when he realized that this was the first time in years that he had walked into homeroom without her. He had forgotten. He had been so tired, so wrapped up in his own exhaustion, that she hadn't even crossed his mind.

That never happened. Never.
He couldn't believe himself. Had he actually forgotten about her? He knew it wasn't that big of a deal, it was only a ten minute period that he hadn't thought of her, but still. This was a big deal for Troy.

The fact that his beloved wasn't involved in his thought process bothered Troy. He mentally kicked himself.

How could I have forgotten about her? She's my everything, how could I have fucking forgotten?

Troy realized that this was all a result of his lack of sleep. Had he been well rested, his thought process would have been normal – in other words, focused on his girlfriend. Mrs. Darbus cleared her throat, waiting. Troy stood up, "I'll go get her."

Mrs. Darbus sighed exasperatedly and nodded her permission. But she was too late. He had already left.

Troy walked through the halls, his vision blurred through his sleepiness. He tried to calm himself down as he made his way towards her locker.

Calm down, Troy. It's just because you're so tired. If you had gotten enough sleep, you would never have forgotten about her. She's your everything, you know that.

He managed to stop beating himself up, stopping short when he approached her locker.

She was slumped on the floor, curled up on the cold tile, fast asleep.

The sight broke his heart all over again.

"Oh, sweetheart," his murmured as he knelt down next to her. The hatred he'd felt for himself before came back to the surface as he watched her angelic face, drained of color and energy as she slept. He didn't want to wake her up. He wanted to carry her home, curl up in his warm bed and fall asleep with her in his arms.

He stroked her face with the back of his hand gently. "Gabby, sweetie, wake up…," he murmured, wishing he could let her sleep longer. She deserved it.

Slowly, her eyes peeled up and blinked, readjusting to the harshly bright lights in the hallways. "Troy," she murmured in recognition. He smiled softly. "Hey gorgeous…we gotta get to homeroom now."

Her pitiful frown crushed his already broken heart. "Do we have to?" she whimpered. He bit his lip and nodded. She sighed and with a deep breath, pushed herself up off of the cold marble floor. He gazed at her, admiring her strength. He offered his hand and she accepted his, leaning into his side as they slowly made their way back to hell.

"Oh, for heavens sakes, Mr. Bolton. Wake up!"

Troy startled awake, looking up to see Mr. Howards glaring at him, brandishing his ballpoint pen like a weapon. Troy didn't even bother mumbling 'sorry' this time. It was the third time.

"Mr. Bolton, do you realize the importance of this class? Clearly not, with the way you have been dozing off. Tell me, what is the language of this country?"

"English," Troy managed to say.

"And what use are you, as an American citizen, if you cannot master your own language?"

Troy nodded numbly.

Gabriella watched from her seat in the back of the room as Mr. Howards continued to lecture Troy, sympathy filling her for her boyfriend.

"Can you tell me what I said, about Shakespeare?"

Troy shook head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The teacher knew he couldn't. This was an over-used teacher tactic, used to humiliate the students in front of the class, and keep them on their toes. Several students snickered.

"Ah, well let's see if anyone else can. Someone who was actually paying attention. How about you, Ms. Montez?"

Gabriella looked up in confusion. "I didn't raised my hand, Mr. Howards…"

"But you were paying attention, yes?"

She nodded meekly. She didn't want to answer the question that Troy hadn't – in her eyes, it would be betrayal.

"What did I say, then?"

She took a deep breath. "I don't know."

Several students, including Troy, whipped around to stare at her. Those words had never left her mouth, not in a classroom. If Gabriella didn't know the answer, she would figure it out. She was in the top five students, enrolled in all honors and AP classes. It was assumed that "I don't know" was simply not in her large vocabulary.

Even Mr. Howards was shocked, but he recovered quickly. "Fine then. Gabriella, Troy, I will see you both during lunch detention."

Gabriella's jaw dropped. She had never gotten a detention. Ever. True, this was simply a lunch detention, it wouldn't go on her permanent record, but still. It was a detention nonetheless.

She could've begged for him to re-evaluate her punishment. She could have told him the truth, that she had listened to his Shakespeare speech – that in fact, she had taken carefully organized notes on the speech, which were now hidden in her binder. But she didn't. She took the blow, standing strong for her lover.

The bell rang. "Class dismissed," Mr. Howards said curtly, retreating behind his desk. The students stood up silently, still shocked by what had just happened. Gabriella ignored the stares she received, gathering her things and hurrying out the door. She raced down the hall, as fast her tired legs could carry her, and collapsed at a table in the art room. Art was her and Troy's next class, and they had a table all to themselves in the back.

Less than a minute later, Troy stumbled into the room, dumping his notebook onto the table and sliding onto a stool next to her.

"Baby, what happened in there?" he asked, sliding an arm around her waist. She rest her head on his shoulder and shrugged numbly. Troy noticed a paper sticking out of her binder, and pulled it out, scanning over it. It was a carefully organized list of notes that Gabriella had created on the speech. Troy frowned. "Baby, you did listen to his speech? You took notes!"

She nodded mutely.

"Then, why didn't you answer the question?"

She looked up at him.

Oh.

The answer hit him. She didn't want to betray him. She took the blow, accepted her first detention ever – for him.

"Oh sweetheart…," he twisted on his stool so that he could wrap both arms around her and she melted into his strong embrace.

"I've never gotten a detention before," she whispered into his shirt.

He nodded, his chin rubbing against the top of her head. "I know," he murmured. But he didn't ask her to change her decision. He knew she didn't deserve the detention, but she had taken it for him, it was her choice. It was not his place to change that.

So he tightened his hold on her, kissing the top of her head, grateful that he had been blessed with such an amazing girlfriend.

He hoped the rest of the day would be better.

AUTHORS NOTE: READ!

AGAIN, SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE! THINGS HAVE BEEN VERY HECTIC LATELY, I JUST GOT HOME FROM SLEEPAWAY CAMP A FEW DAYS AGO….I ALSO WANT TO ADDRESS THE ISSUE THAT I HAVEN'T GOTTEN MANY REVIEWS LATELY. PUH-LEASE GUYS! REVIEWS ARE THE ONLY FEEDBACK I GET! IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO TYPE IN A QUICK "GOOD JOB" IS IT? CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICSM IS WELCOME TOO. I HATE TO SOUND DEMANDING GUYS, BUT IF YOU COULD GIVE ME ATLEAST 10 REVIEWS BEFORE THE NEXT CHAPTER, THAT WOULD SERIOUSLY MEAN A LOT TO ME.