Standard disclaimer applies.

Oh, wow. An actual update? It feels like it's been ages since I'd last visited my profile on this site. I suppose the latest chapter would have to be dedicated to Wish on a Star Ox; read her story: When Dreams Defer because it's just brilliant!


Heart of the Game
Part XI


Gabriella remembers the first time she ever laid eyes on Troy during the party at the ski lodge. At that time, she was too embarrassed by the prospect of singing in front of all those strangers to notice just how cute. Looking back on it, she recalled that prior to the incident, it wasn't his good looks that won her over, it was his charm and kindness. Gabriella always thought that he had the cutest smile.

Gabriella had been all too familiar with the jock-types (although she hadn't known he was one at the time) back at her old school. They were always the same; one-dimensional, all brawn no brain type of people. Although Gabriella wasn't someone who followed the stereotype labelling crowd, this was one of the few exceptions. Had she not met Troy before Taylor, she was sure that she'd turned out with the exact mindset as her girlfriend.

But as it stood, she hadn't met Taylor before Troy. She had gone into East High with the expectation that it would be exactly the same as her previous High School experience. Then, she'd met him again. Hearing the sound of her cell phone that first day at school and looking at the familiar, kindly face flash on her screen, Gabriella's heart had skipped a beat.

"Gabriella?"

Caught up in the memory, feeling the same joy and shock she'd experienced at that moment in Mrs. Darbus' class, Gabriella involuntarily jumped at the sudden voice.

"Are you all right?"

She heard again. This time having regained her wits about her, she looked up and right into the concerned (though the emotion was only the barest flicker) eyes, wet with tears.

"Mrs. Bolton," she'd said at that moment, until her eyes trailed down, following the spot where the woman's gaze had found themselves.

This time, Gabriella felt her heart skip another beat, but it was not because of excitement or happiness. She would have gasped. She would have cried. She would have shaken her head in refusal to accept this reality had she could. But as it were, Gabriella found herself frozen completely in place. She couldn't cry because her body forgot how to make a sound. She would have cried if the sobs weren't stuck in her throat. She would have run away, but her body lost its ability to move.

She remembered the one weekend; it seemed like an eternity ago, when Troy and Chad had taken Taylor and her to the cinema to catch the premier of House of Wax. Gabriella didn't exactly how what had happened or who was who, credited to the fact that she'd spent most of the movie with her hands covering her eyes. She didn't like gore, never did and never would.

One of the scenes that she had accidentally peeked in on was the one that would forever be carved onto her memory. It was of one of the main characters that had been caught by the criminal and waxed onto a piano chair. She'd cringed at the part when one of his friends tried to free him by unintentionally peeling off the skin of his face. She'd subsequently left the cinema in a hurry after that.

But at this moment, Gabriella felt exactly like that; the only difference was that she probably would not have felt if someone peeled off her skin. Everything in her body had just become numb. It was like a belated reaction to what her eyes were seeing. Her mind was still refusing the accept that this was the same strong, kind and beautiful Troy she'd met that fated day up on the mountain.

This person lay unresponsive on the bed; his face pale and his once brilliant, golden locks looking dull and matted.

It seemed like ages before she could feel her heart beating beneath her ribcage again. Before she could let exhale the breath she didn't notice she had been holding. Before Gabriella knew it, she felt her body moving forward; inch by inch. Step by step until it took her right beside Troy's bed.

She looked away, watched Mrs. Bolton as her eyes continue to train on the pale face of her only son. Gabriella couldn't even begin to imagine what must be going through her mind. She tried to think what it this woman was her and the one who lay in the bed to be her mother, but it wasn't possible. Her mind refused to even ponder over the probability.

How could she as a girlfriend, someone who's known Troy for the best of two years even understand how painful it was to be someone who birthed him, raised him; watch him grow up, be a part of their lives for seventeen years, to accept that there was a possibility that what memory they had, it would be just that. She loved Troy, but she knew that there was no love that could rival that of a mothers'. She knew, because she saw in everyday in her own mothers' eyes.

Gabriella said nothing to console the distraught woman, she said nothing at all. Swallowing the lump in her throat and the tears that threatened to spill, Gabriella moved to the other side of the bed and took Troy's free hand in hers, bringing it up to chest level.

"Be strong, Troy," she whispered, though to no one in particular. That was the only words she muttered for the rest of her visit. She just stood and gazed and hoped with all her heart that she--no one, wouldn't have to say goodbye.

- - - - -

"How're you holding up?"

Chad perked up out of the trance he hadn't realized he'd been in and looked over to his unlikely companion.

"Been better," he said, to which Ryan nodded.

"Seems like just yesterday you were hating my guts and thinking up possible excuses for the teachers when they catch you dunking my head in a toilet."

"I never dunked your head in the toilet," Chad replied in a bewildered manner.

"But you were thinking about it on numerous occasions."

Ryan had answered with such an assured tone that Chad couldn't rebuke his suspicion, so he just shrugged it off. "For the record, Evans. I still do hate your guts."

"Like wise."

Chad didn't answer that. His mind instead flashing back to the conversation he had with his mother, and deciding once and for all that maybe there was actually something to this motherly advice his mother had always been nattering about.

What was the point of him moping around, crying like one of the losers on The Bachelor when this was the time to prove his strength? He had to be strong for Troy, as Troy had been for him in fifth grade when he'd been admitted for tonsillitis. It was Troy who's talked him out of sneaking out just hours before he was due in surgery. It was Troy who accompanied him through the most part of his stay. It was always Troy. This time, it was Chad's turn to return the friendship even if it did mean taking the bus to the hospital with one of the people he found most annoying in the entire school, and Chad wasn't even talking about his choice of clothing.

For the record, he didn't doubt that this was Ryan's first trip on a commuter bus.

Chad bowed his head, resting his elbows on his knees and eyes looking sideways to Ryan who had taken the window seat and was currently occupying himself with gazing out to the scenery flashing past. If someone had told him yesterday that there would come a time when he'd actually share a seat with the flamboyant younger Evans, he'd tell the person to get his head checked. If someone had the told him that there would come a time when he'd actually call Ryan (he didn't even know why he had the boys number on his phone in the first place) and tell him to meet him so that they would share a seat together, he'd promptly go running the other way.

But right at this moment in time, everything just seemed to be proper.

They'd taken the seats in the last row after much hesitation on Ryan's part to actually step into the bus and watched as people came and went. The couple who had been sitting in the seats in front of them had just gotten off at the last stop and two high school boys had taken their place. When they'd walked up, Chad had vaguely noted that both of them looked kind off familiar, but it had just been a passing thought, until the word Troy reached his ears.

"Man, did you hear about Troy Bolton?"

One of the two boys had said, apparently nor having noticed the two sitting behind them.

"No, what?"

"Eric and I were just grabbing a smoothie from Pop's when a couple of those East High losers walked by. I heard them say something about Troy fainting during practice or something. Probably from exhaustion, the loser. I always knew he had no stamina."

Chad felt the anger bubble up from inside him as they continued.

"Maybe he's just chicken. No other way out of facing us this Saturday."

"I told you the Wild Cats were a couple of cowardly kittens, didn't I? And Troy Bolton is the biggest cowards of them all!"

They both laughed at the last statement. Ryan looked between the two and Chad, anxiety written clearly on his face as he put a hand on Chad's shoulder, seeing the fury that raged behind his eyes.

"Ignore them," he whispered. "It's not worth it."

But whatever words of wisdom he'd planned to say next was completely forgotten when Chad leaped to his feet and grabbed the nearest of the two boys by the collar of his shirt, bringing the startled boy to his toes.

"What did you say about Troy?" he snarled, brows knitted together and knuckled white.

"W-What the hell, dude? You crazy or something," said the boy Chad held so viciously up by his shirt, his friend jumping to his feet and looked as if he was thinking of pulling Chad off, but at the last minute, changed his mind.

"What did you say about Troy?" he repeated, venom dripping from every word.

"Nothing, man! Get off!"

"Come on, Chad," Ryan said calmly, trying to pull Chad away as gently yet as firmly as he could. "It's not worth it."

"You think you can insult Troy and get away with it, you ass holes! You're the cowards whose only show of cowardice is to insult people behind their backs!" he growled and shoved the boy into the arms of his fearful friend, sending them both to the floor. "I have better things to do than waste my time on a couple of scumbags like you," he glared at them before turning to leave. "Come on, Evans."

Ryan still stood glued to his place, looking between Chad at the rival teams' player who was shooting glared of hatred at the back of Chad's head. He'd half spun on his heels to follow Chad who had just pressed the buzzer signalling that they wanted to get off, when the boy got to his feet once again. From them on, he could only vaguely recall what happened. It was something like an outer body experience. He heard the venom laced words saying; "whatever is wrong with that loser captain of yours. I hope he dies!" and suddenly, he felt an intense pain shooting up his knuckle and wrist as the boy, bleeding lip and all, found himself sprawled once again on the metal floor of the bus.

Ryan's eyes widened and he turned to look at Chad's equally wide eyes before both of them, without a word spoken; left the silent passengers of the bus to stare and wonder what had just taken place. Ryan didn't miss the appraising look Chad shot him as they walked off.

End Part XI


Didn't Ryan just kick ass? x3

I promise not to take too long with the next chapter, in the meantime, feel free to review or criticise constructively :3 -hinthint-