Chapter Three
"Have you called Mom?"
Gabriella pulled a face as she bit into her cheeseburger. "No," she mumbled with her mouth full.
"Well, she wants you to," Mario warned, pouring what seemed to be an entire bottle of ketchup onto his extra large portion of fries.
"Mom wants me to do a lot of things," she snapped.
A pause. Then, "You're almost eighteen. You should make your own decisions."
A grin slowly spread across Gabriella's face. "I like this girl." She turned to Lexi. "His girlfriends always stuck up for Mom and Dad just to get in their good books. None of them ever even noticed me."
"She means ex girlfriends," Mario said hurriedly.
Gabriella shrugged innocently. "I thought it was implied."
Lexi laughed. "Honey, we've been together for three years. I think I'd have figured it out if you had other girlfriends."
"I'm just clarifying."
Mario was older than Gabriella but had never been much wiser. Hence his long string of ex girlfriends. It wasn't his fault. He wasn't a player. He just chose the wrong girls who mostly used him for popularity. However, she'd never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at Lexi. Mario was a basketball genius, way more intelligent than the typical jock knowing four languages including Russian and Latin, and he would give his last glass of water to his arch enemy. Namely, any girl would be lucky to have him.
And yet, even he knew Lexi was too good for him. An astrophysics major taking a minor in aerospace studies with a resume packed with voluntary and industry experience, she was the captain of the debate and softball teams and, in Mario's words, 'the most beautiful person on campus.' She wasn't a cheerleader which made a change from his previous girlfriends and she was actually giving Gabriella the time of day. Dramatising nor belittling her achievements, Lexi was choosing instead to ask about East High and her favourite TV shows and movies (The Big Bang Theory and Star Wars respectively.)
It was their first meeting, despite how Mario and Lexi had been together since freshman year. Both Gabriella and her parents had been impatient to meet Lexi, with Gabriella joking that he was dating a stripper and didn't want his family to know. But now she understood exactly why he hadn't flown Lexi to Connecticut to visit his family for the holidays. He didn't want Maria and Carlos to scare her off.
Lexi checked her watch. "Anyway, I have to go. I've got a pile of laundry calling my name. It was great meeting you, Gabriella. Maybe we could hang out sometime just us?"
Somehow, Gabriella knew Lexi meant it. "I'd like that."
"Are you at the lab tonight?" Mario asked.
Lexi shook her head. "It's booked solid for the next month so it's back to my own telescope."
"Cool. I'll be over later, then."
She leaned in to kiss him quickly and then stood up, grabbing her bag and cafeteria tray.
Mario twisted in his seat to watch her dump her trash in a nearby garbage can and then leave the cafeteria. He turned back to his fries, purposefully avoiding his sister's gaze. "Don't say anything."
So she didn't, instead focussing on her cheeseburger. A sibling relationship was complicated. They sometimes wanted to kill each other. And yet, they'd kill for each other any time. It was for this reason that Mario knew one thing for sure: she would've been tearing his ear off if she didn't approve of Lexi.
Finally, he met her gaze. "I know."
Gabriella quirked an eyebrow. "Come again?"
"I know what you're thinking and I agree."
Another thing about a sibling relationship: telepathy was a skill honed very early on in childhood.
Gabriella cracked a smile as she finished off the dreg ends of her burger. "I like her," she murmured, repeating her earlier sentiment.
Mario finally let a grin spread across his face. "I know! How cool is that girl? I mean, she is a genius. Not your kind of freaky genius-"
Final thing about a sibling relationship: no insult is taken personally.
"-but she can point to a blank spot of night sky and tell you all the planets and galaxies that are about a billion light years away. What can I do? Make a decent jump shot and and read Russian novels in their original translations. I mean, what can I do with that?"
Gabriella quirked an eyebrow. "I don't know. Teach literature in Russia?"
"I'm serious."
"Me too. Imagine Mom's reaction if I told her I wanted to study Russian Literature," she joked.
Mario frowned, looking intently at the lukewarm remains of his fries. "She'd let you."
"She wouldn't be happy about it," Gabriella mumbled, thinking once again about the letter from Stanford which was still hidden in her bottom desk drawer.
He didn't really have an argument for that. Their parents were scientists, driven and ambitious and they wanted their children to be as successful as possible. This meant that having a literal genius as a child was a dream come true. So while they were distracted by Gabriella getting her PhD from Yale, he announced he wasn't going to an Ivy League school so they didn't press the matter too much.
The downside was that he knew Gabriella got the short end of the stick.
"Anyway, I should probably go, too. I have equations and Shakespeare waiting for me," Gabriella said as she stood up, grabbing her books and her trash.
They said goodbye and Gabriella headed towards the main hall of the University of Albuquerque. It was pretty busy for a Saturday with plenty of students, visiting professors, and alumni. She thought about staying for a while longer to maybe check out the library or the science labs.
But she couldn't really be bothered.
So instead, she headed towards the main doors, thinking about all the reading she should be doing for English and all the research she could be doing if she didn't have writer's block. It was with this thought that she fumbled with her bag and heavy textbooks to bring her cell phone out of her jeans pocket.
Mario's words repeated in her head: She wants you to.
Closely followed by Lexi's defense: You should make your own decisions.
Sighing, she dialled Maria's cell phone and heard the persistent ringing. "Hi Mom."
"How did it go?"
"It was pretty amazing."
"We knew you'd do great," Maria praised. "How was Mario?"
"Fine."
"Did you tell him to call me?"
She thought about their conversation in the cafeteria. Now that the Montez's were all in one town, Maria was under some sort of illusion that Mario would move back in, have dinner as a family every night, and listen to their thoughts on Master degrees from Ivy League schools. Unfortunately for Maria, Mario wasn't willing to give up the life he'd built for himself. He might only be a junior in college, but he had his own place, a part time job alongside his studies, and a girlfriend. Gabriella knew before they'd moved that he wasn't going to give it all up that easily.
"Kind of."
"I swear that boy will be the end of-"
Gabriella didn't hear the rest of her reply because she'd walked into someone, making all of her things clatter to the floor. She crouched down and grabbed her phone.
"Gabriella?"
"Mom? I'm fine. I just…" She trailed off when she lifted her head and came face to face with Troy Bolton. "I have to go."
Without waiting for a response, she hung up and dropped her phone in her bag, trying not to think of the interrogation she would surely get when she got home.
"We have to stop meeting like this," Troy commented as they both stood up and he glanced over the covers of Gabriella's textbooks. "Just some light reading?"
She laughed. "Something like that."
Troy was acting weird. Possibly because he had changed his typical round neck t shirt and jeans to a button up shirt and slightly creased black pants. Although, it seemed he was reluctant to sacrifice his Converse sneakers. But it ran deeper than that. She wondered why he was at U of A in the first place and what had happened to make his smile seem just a little bit forced.
"What are you doing here?" they asked at the same time.
Troy laughed. "My dad booked a campus tour for me and a meeting with your dad."
"How did it go?"
He shrugged, looking back down at the books he was still holding. "It doesn't matter. What are you doing here?"
Gabriella paused, unsure how to tell the truth without revealing her secret. "There was a physics lecture."
"Already a college girl? Impressive." He winked.
If only you knew, she thought.
Instead, she said, "Do you want me to take those?"
He shook his head. "I'm good. Do you want to get a coffee or something?"
"Gabriella!"
They turned to see a large balding man heading their way, grinning at Gabriella.
"Professor Holt, what can I help you with?"
He glanced at Troy. "Sorry to interrupt but could I have a word?"
"Can you give me a sec?" she asked Troy.
He shrugged, gesturing to the textbooks in his arms. "I think I'll just catch up on my reading."
She laughed and stepped to the side with Professor Holt. "What's up?"
Since moving to Albuquerque, she'd had several meetings with Robert Holt. Six months ago, when Carlos had come for his job interview, he had bragged about his daughter's accomplishments and piqued the interest of the head of the science department. They had e-mailed several times prior to the Montez's arriving in New Mexico about the possibility of Gabriella teaching at U of A and giving the opening lecture of a physics symposium.
It was flattering but she couldn't see herself teaching at U of A full time. It was a great school, great department with respected faculty. It was more to do with the fact her dad taught there and her brother was studying there. It all went back to her need to decide things for herself, no matter what anybody else thought about it.
Professor Holt grinned at her. "I just wanted to say how fantastic that lecture was."
Fully aware that Troy was in close proximity, she only said, "I agree."
"The students have already given amazing feedback and have a newfound enthusiasm for their upcoming research projects."
Gabriella couldn't help feeling proud of herself. College students were the worst to lecture. Half of them didn't want to be there and the other half were texting. But by some miracle, the students at today's lecture seemed genuinely interested. "That's always a good thing."
"Perhaps you can come back in a couple of weeks to discuss September?"
His round face looked so hopeful he might as well have been a puppy.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
He shook her hand enthusiastically and waddled down the corridor.
She took a deep breath and stepped back towards Troy. "Sorry about that."
Troy glanced at her. "It's okay. Care to explain?"
They approached the front desk to sign out and headed towards the parking lot.
"That was Professor Holt, head of the science department." She paused, considering the weight of what she was saying and what she truly meant. "He's pretty, um, keen for me to come here in September."
"What's that like? For a school to want you, I mean."
She frowned, willingly following him towards his truck on the far side of the lot. "My dad doesn't want you on the team?"
"What? Oh, sure he does. The meeting went really well today. I just…" He trailed off as they climbed into his beat up truck and he looked down at Gabriella's books again. "I got the impression he was only excited because of my name."
"Your name?"
He shrugged. "My dad and uncle were Redhawks, my cousin, too. And my gramps. It's a Bolton thing."
"Oh, so you're a legacy," Gabriella realised, remembering Mario mumble something about the importance of legacies at college. Basically your name got you where you wanted to go within your family's alma mater: admissions, sororities and fraternities, and any team or society.
He nodded, showing no sign of starting the truck or driving to a coffee shop like he'd suggested. "I guess. I'm not belittling your dad as a coach. He's very talented and his scientific approach is inspired, even if I don't understand it. But he hasn't seen me play, so how does he know I'm any good?"
Gabriella was silent, wanting to defend her father and reassure Troy, but what could she say?
Before she could say anything, Troy handed her books back to her and turned the key, making the engine roar to life. He barely looked out of the rearview mirror as he reversed out of his spot, reminding Gabriella of Sharpay's driving habits.
Troy was quiet as he left the U of A parking lot and headed towards the outskirts of Albuquerque. Gabriella didn't question him, assuming he wouldn't murder her, and somehow knowing that he needed some quiet time.
The radio was blaring out Bon Jovi classics. But Troy didn't seem to be paying attention. Much like he didn't seem to be paying attention to the road, choosing to go past a stop sign and through a red light. Luckily traffic on that part of town was minimal.
Gabriella just sat there, nursing her books and bag. She thought about doing some reading but that would probably make Troy feel worse. So instead, she gazed out of the passenger window at the blur of greenery passing by. She knew it was the same landscape she'd seen from East High's roof on her first day with Troy. But now it was different.
The longer Troy didn't speak and the more he wasn't acting like himself, the more Gabriella felt her chest tighten. She closed her eyes, shutting out the scenery, the loud radio, and Troy's silence.
It was bizarre and it fascinated many of her colleagues. She could stand up on stage and give a lecture to hundreds of people of various ages without so much as butterflies in her stomach. Yet, it was the personal one-on-one interactions that reminded her lungs that she had asthma and social anxiety, which was never a good combination.
It just turned out that Troy was the cause of most of her panic attacks these days.
Feeling her chest tighten a little too much for comfort, she opened her eyes and dropped her pristine textbooks to the floor of the truck. She began rummaging through her bag, pushing aside her iPad, book, notepad, and diary. She dug beneath her band aids, antihistamine pills, and travel sickness medication. She found her cell phone at the bottom along with her preventer inhaler which wasn't much use to her now.
There was no way she didn't have her reliever inhaler. She had three on the go at any one time: one at home, one in her bag, and a spare in case one ran out. She never took it out of her bag; it had to be there. Of course, the more she repeated that thought to herself and the longer she couldn't find the inhaler, the harder it was for her to breathe.
Eventually, she hit Troy's arm, getting his attention. He seemed to visibly focus in on the present and more or less slammed on the brakes, steering into the side of the road.
"What's wrong?" he asked calmly, although she guessed it was more an attempt to keep her calm.
"Need...blue...inhaler," she gasped, more or less throwing her bag at him.
He began randomly throwing things into the backseat while Gabriella tried to sit up straight and take deep breaths. Unfortunately, her lungs were screaming for her to lean over and take shallow breaths.
After what felt like ten years, Troy pressed an inhaler into her palm. She only glanced at it before she took two huge puffs of it. Slowly, her chest relaxed and oxygen found its way to her lungs.
After a moment, Troy said, "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?"
She laughed, still breathless from her asthma attack. "I'm fine. Sorry about that."
"You're sure you're okay?"
"It was only an asthma attack. But I know they can be scary if you haven't seen them before." She began piling the things she could reach into her bag.
"What caused it?"
She shrugged. "There's countless triggers."
"Do you know what triggered this one?" he asked, concern still painted on his face.
You, she thought.
"It might have been the motion of the car. I get travel sick quite easily. I should be okay now, though."
"Are you sure you don't need a doctor?"
"Troy, I'm fine. You said you wanted coffee."
Troy didn't look convinced but cranked the engine anyway, pulling off into the road. He was quiet again, but it was different. It was less tense, probably because she'd taken his mind off U of A.
After a few minutes, he pulled into a field laughingly called a parking lot in front of an old diner. There were a few other cars, mostly trucks and scraps of metal, probably belonging to students.
She leaned closer to the windshield at the sign which read The Five Seasons. "Is that supposed to be a joke?"
Troy shrugged. "Maybe. It's been here since before my mom and dad were born."
Without another word, Troy jumped out of the truck, turning to the diner, seemingly looking for someone. Gabriella grabbed a few more of her things from the backseat and hopped down, walking around to meet Troy.
He was quiet as he lead her towards the door of the diner, absentmindedly locking the truck behind him. It was a different quiet again. It wasn't angry and it wasn't worry. It was something else she couldn't put her finger on.
Inside, it was all noise and sweet smelling food. It was evidently a favourite with the locals. And even though there were plenty of empty tables by the window, Troy headed towards the back, to a table near the kitchen entrance.
Gabriella sat opposite him and twisted in her seat to look at the dining area they bypassed. "What is this place?" she said, turning back to Troy.
He shrugged. "It's been here forever, like I said. I come here a lot. It's good to get away, you know?"
She nodded, picking up the slightly sticky menu. "I guess."
A large African-American waitress came over and grinned at Troy. "Mr Bolton, it's good to see you again."
"I can't stay away." He winked at her. He glanced over Gabriella's shoulder towards the counter.
"Who's your friend?"
"Gabriella. She recently moved to Albuquerque," he explained.
The waitress nodded. "Great to meet you. Count yourself lucky. He doesn't bring anyone here, much less someone new in town."
"Anyway," Troy said, quickly changing the conversation and glancing at the counter again, "I'll have a coffee, don't hold back with the cream, and plate up a few of those brownies."
The waitress nodded, not even writing it down. Gabriella assumed it was Troy's usual order. "What about you, honey?"
Gabriella looked back to her menu, trying to take in all the obviously unhealthy options and ruling out the ones that would aggravate her allergies. "A coffee, black, and uh…"
"Gabriella?"
She looked up at Troy. "Sorry. I just...I have allergies. I'm trying to figure out what I can eat that won't kill me."
She used a joking tone but Troy could tell there was truth there. "Rhonda, bring the coffees. We'll be a minute."
Rhonda left with a final smile and Troy took the menu off Gabriella. "Okay, what can't you eat?"
"Well, the big ones are nuts, strawberries, and gluten. I'm also lactose intolerant. But that won't kill me, it's just not very...ladylike." She blushed and shrugged. "By the way, if I ever go into anaphylactic shock, feel free to stab me with my epipen and call an ambulance."
He chuckled and nodded. "Duly noted. And I know exactly what you're going to eat."
Before she could respond, Troy had disappeared and she turned to see him leaning on the counter, talking to a blonde waitress. Troy said something and the girl laughed, using tongs to put several cookies on a plate. He then pointed in Gabriella's direction and the blonde glanced over at her. Gabriella turned back in her seat and frowned, trying to decipher the smile she'd seen on Troy's face.
He had gone through so many moods in such a short space of time, and now he seemed to be flirting with a waitress of a greasy spoon. Well, she assumed he was flirting. Having spent the majority of her career around people almost twice, sometimes three times her age, she didn't exactly have a lot of experience with relationships. Flirting could involve being punched in the face for all she knew. She hoped it didn't. But she didn't know.
Troy returned, putting the plate of cookies in front of her, taking his seat once again. "Try one."
She picked one up, inspecting it. "What is it?"
"Trust me."
She took a hesitant bite and a volcano of flavour erupted in her mouth. "Oh god. What is this?"
Rhonda dropped off their coffees and Troy's brownies and he immediately began stuffing his mouth.
"They're Lydia's banana cookies. It's all banana, oats, and raisins. I think she puts some sugar in it, too," he mumbled with a mouthful of brownie.
"They're amazing. And they won't kill me, which is always a bonus. Who's Lydia, anyway?"
"She's a waitress here while she studies at U of A." He paused, sipping his coffee. "Speaking of, can I assume you won't be a Redhawk next year?"
"Yeah," she muttered, staring intently into the remains of her coffee.
Troy paused. "So where are you going?"
She lifted her gaze. "Well, my mom is pretty insistent that I go to Yale. And I know I'm lucky to even have my name read by someone at that school. But I don't think it's for me."
"If you're not going to U of A or Yale, it's because you got into clown college, right?"
She laughed. "And I thought I'd hidden my unicycle so well."
It was this type of conversation that reminded Gabriella of why she'd developed feelings for Troy. He hadn't reacted at all when she'd mentioned Yale, just completely passed it by, choosing instead to make a joke. It helped her relax, knowing that Troy wouldn't judge her decisions, even if she had wanted to go to clown college.
"So where are you going? If you don't mind me asking."
She cracked a smile, pushing away her empty mug and plate. "Well, Stanford have offered me a place. And no matter what my mom thinks, it's where I want to be."
"That's amazing. Why would your mom think anything bad about that?"
She shrugged and laughed at the stupidity of what she was about to say. Millions of people across the country couldn't go to college at all. They couldn't afford it, or they had families to take care of, or other circumstances beyond their control. And yet, Maria wouldn't like Gabriella attending Stanford because it wasn't the 'right kind' of college.
"It's not Ivy League. My mom is a hardcore Ivy League advocate. She went to Yale, did her Bachelors, Masters, and PhD there and thinks I should do the same."
"But your brother is at U of A, that's not Ivy League."
"My brother's in a league of his own," she joked.
"I didn't realise you were under quite so much pressure. When are you going to tell everybody about Stanford?"
"I haven't figured that out yet. But I know my mom's going to be furious."
Troy reached over the table and grasped her hand. "You'll be great."
The following day, Chad wrapped his arm around his girlfriend. They occupied the bottom most blacher in the gym, the one place Taylor hoped Sharpay wouldn't look for her.
"It's so ridiculous. I get that Gabriella's not tell us everything, but I doubt she's hiding literal skeletons in her closet," Taylor exploded.
Chad kissed his temple and rubbed her arm. "I know this just as well as you do. But, as you've told me since middle school, you love her really."
She rolled her eyes. "I know. But she won't leave me alone. I have better things to do with my time than stalk the new girl."
Chad felt sorry for his girlfriend. She was the smartest, most beautiful girl he knew. And yet, her best friend was too much even for Taylor at times. "Why do you think Sharpay obsesses like this?"
She shrugged. "Honestly? I think she's scared of everything we're afraid of. But she doesn't really know how to deal with uncertainty. Has Zeke been okay?"
"Okay?" Chad repeated. "Honey, he's going to the top culinary school in the country. He's been on Cloud Nine all year."
"But-"
"There you are!" a shrill voice echoed throughout the empty gym.
Taylor buried her face in her boyfriend's shoulder. "Go away."
"I have something you'll want to see," Sharpay sang as she marched towards them.
"I highly doubt that," she mumbled.
Despite Taylor's protests, Sharpay thrust a manila folder into her hands. Gabriella's full name was printed on the front in block capitals and Chad gave a low whistle when he saw it. "That's one name to recite at the altar."
Taylor frowned at him but ignored the comment. "Did you steal this from the office?"
"Borrowed," Sharpay said, enunciating each syllable.
"Okay, why did you borrow Gabriella's file from the office?"
"Look inside," Sharpay ordered.
Ignoring her tone, Taylor did as instructed. "It's empty."
"Exactly! Doesn't that strike you as odd? I mean, it's strange for any student but a new student? No transcripts or transfer paperwork?"
Taylor rubbed her forehead. "I don't know. Maybe paperwork has to be finalised. She's only been here a couple of weeks. I know this is bugging you but I have better things to do with my time."
"Like canoodle with Danforth?"
"Hey!" Chad exclaimed.
Sharpay rolled her eyes. "I also thought you'd want to see this."
Taylor took the papers and glanced at them. "It's a google search result for Gabriella."
"And can you spot what's odd about it?"
Chad glared at Sharpay. "Don't you have homework or something better to do?"
"I don't know," Taylor said, answering Sharpay's question.
Sharpay sighed, clearly losing her patience with the pair of them. "Gabriella is really smart. Do you not think a school would have commended her?"
Taylor glanced back at the papers, trying to humour her best friend's obsession. "There's a high school here. North Lake High."
"I already looked. It's from almost ten years ago," she snapped.
Taylor shrugged. "I don't know. What I do know is that I have homework, extra AP classes, a part time job, a family, and a boyfriend. Gabriella is a great girl. She's smart, kind, and can cope with your constant interrogation. So what if she hasn't mentioned her past?"
Sharpay looked shocked for only a moment before she composed herself, taking the papers back from Taylor. "Well, I was going to tell you a lead Troy gave me but you're too busy. Sorry."
"Sharpay-"
"I understand. I'll see you in class."