A/N: Thank you so much to jb1236, rachrep, FeJoy29, JohnKrasinskiLover, OhGollyMissMolly, and smartgirl231814 for their especially wonderful and lengthier reviews, and wow, canada4ever, that was really sweet of you. :D
Punk Music Rocks: I know Gabriella cries a lot, but she's insecure and depressed, and you may think it's pathetic, but those people cry a lot with those problems.
Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or High School Musical or any of these characters except mine. I don't own Sunny D either.
"No, Troy!" his father spat angrily over the phone. "You will go to that basketball camp at the end of this year, okay? Do you know how expensive that was?! It cost me a fucking fortune! Almost half the tuition of one year of college. The best of the best, Troy. The most elite people are going to be there. They will be playing basketball with you. You are going, you hear? You are going, boy, and you will take advantage of every single coach—every single facility—anything, anything, they fucking offer you, you take. You need to take this opportunity and improve. Comprende?" Troy closed his eyes momentarily as he swore under his breath. "What?!" The East High basketball coach fumed madly. "Did I just hear the word 'fuck' come out of that dirty mouth of yours?" Troy felt frozen, his muscles stiff as he leaned against the cool brick wall of the school building.
"No, sir," Troy gulped forcibly. "You didn't."
"Fuck, yes!" The coach barked impatiently. "It better be that way. I don't want a shitty potty mouth as a son. Henry was better than you. Oh yeah, Henry did anything I asked him to. He was obedient and an overachiever. He wasn't a fucking rebel and lazy ass like you. He worked hard. He gave his best in everything, at all times. Unlike you. I can barely believe you two are related. It is a disgrace! He was an all-star basketball player. He got straight A's. Do you know how hard it is to balance both things? And be a loyal boyfriend to Elena, his girl?"
"But Dad!" Troy choked in desperate defense. "I—I have straight A's now! I was voted the captain of the varsity basketball team! And I want to ask her out, Dad. I need to ask her out. I can't stop thinking about her…" Troy's breathing became strangely shallow as his thoughts escaped to the gorgeous brunette in his English class. How she stuck the eraser tip of her pencil in her mouth as she pondered her next answer. How she sometimes whispered the reading passage aloud to herself, her silky voice sweet and beautiful. How boring Mr. McGregor was, but how incredibly interesting and thrilling Gabriella made Shakespeare seem, speaking about the literature with such passion.
"What are you, some lovesick puppy? It's sickening!" Coach Bolton retorted disgustedly. "That girl is slut anyway."
"No, she's not!" Troy stammered defensively, automatically feeling the need to protect her. He felt a hurtful pang in his chest at the judging insult. "You don't even know her, or who she is!"
"I know she is a slut, Troy. All of your girlfriends are sluts. But Henry's girlfriend wasn't," Jack stated proudly. "Elena was also a straight A student. She was on the scholastic decathlon team. She was part of the chess club and also the French club. She even started her own club to welcome new students. She was the best girl he could have had." Troy knew there was no way he was going to mention his brother's nasty breakup with his ex-girlfriend, and he rolled his eyes at that. "But yours…your girlfriends are always bimbos and whores." Troy felt his face burn at the offending report.
"She's different, Dad," Troy sputtered frantically. "I promise."
"How can I trust you, boy? I can't trust you."
Troy had heard enough. His father could rant angrily and jump to untrue conclusions all he wanted. But Troy had been shoved over the brim. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his throat dry and his usually bright eyes pooled with boiling tears. His father had never accepted him, and still didn't. He was never good enough, never satisfactory. Henry, his older brother, had always been the leading light. The shining star, while Troy had wallowed miserably in his dim shadows. Coach Bolton was always disappointed with Troy, and that's how it would always be. Troy couldn't be perfect, but Jack Bolton would never deflate that oversized head of his and realize that. He would never give Troy a break.
"Bye, Dad. I've got class," Troy muttered quickly before snapping his phone shut and tucking it away in his pocket, sighing in relief at the end of the discouraging conversation. Mr. Bolton tried calling back a few more times, but Troy didn't respond, only turning off his phone as he wiped his glossy eyes, preparing himself to return to his math class. He threaded his fingers through his shaggy hair, swallowing hoarsely as his thoughts floated off to that unbelievable girl he just couldn't stop thinking about. She was perfect. She really was everything he had always wanted. Everything he had always been searching for, without even knowing he was looking for it.
She wasn't like the artistic Natalia Williams, his coloring book alliance and crayon colleague in preschool. She wasn't like the actively social Maddie Simmons, his second grade crush and one-month playground squeeze. She wasn't like his eighth grade lab partner Cecelia Derrick, with the frizzy Sunny D-colored hair that was so big on her head it looked like she had been electrocuted. She wasn't like slutty Latishia Yu back in Albuquerque, her fat ass so gigantic she took up two chairs instead of one. She just…was. With that adorable little smile that just seemed to illuminate her radiant face, her tiny hand always shooting up in class with a correct answer, and the way she tried her best in everything. Gabriella Montez wasn't just a crush. She was an obsession. Troy Bolton didn't care if they had first spoken in a dingy janitor's closet, right after she had vomited into a soap and water bucket. That didn't matter. She was the only that mattered, and he just couldn't wrench his thoughts away.
Troy rubbed his temples in order to relax himself as he pursed his lips, reentering the empty building and trekking through the spotlessly clean, vacant hallways to his current class. He stopped abruptly, almost tripping over his own feet, when he heard a sound coming from a narrow janitor's closet on one corner, the same one he had first spoken to Gabriella in. Troy was completely still as he leaned in and pressed his ear to the door hesitantly, alarmed when the noise continued. To his dismay, he was able to recognize the familiar sound easily.
A girl. There was a girl crying behind the wooden door. But not just any ordinary girl. His heart broke in distraught as he confirmed the flawless name in his head.
Gabriella.
Troy tentatively pushed open the creaking door of the janitor's closet, his eyes engorging at the sight of the pretty petite girl, curled up in a ball on the dusty floor. Her slender legs were pulled up to her chest, her skinny arms wrapped tightly around them and her chin resting on knobby knees as she wept, her entire small figure shaking like a terrible earthquake with each pitiful, quavering sob. She didn't seem to notice the towering intruder, only continuing to bawl dejectedly as she felt sorry for herself. The tall, toned boy's face plunged into unexplainably deep sympathy, restraining himself to engulf her in a comforting hug. He could feel his heartbeat slowing down with hers, too tired and too drained to prolong. He suddenly felt a bit nervous as he stood there so idly, quiet and observant of the despondent, diminutive girl coiled up on the floor, her tearstained face hidden from the world. It took a few moments, but he finally mustered up all his courage and managed to squeak like an idiot, "Are you okay?"
The wreck of a girl arrested her wails, sniffling, the small sphere that was her head inclining slowly to meet his wonderful cerulean eyes. She gasped at the startling strong connection she felt between them, the new presence making something unidentifiable rise in her body, rocketing wildly through her veins. Gabriella simply stared at him, drinking in his luscious, muscular form and feeling her stomach flip at the beautiful sight of him. It was as if He were a God, sent from the heavens, there to save her. She was completely entranced by his figure, his face, the natural friendly manner he just seemed to effortlessly emit. Then she remembered to speak, shaking her head quickly as if to rid all other thoughts and croaking, "Yeah. I-I'm fine."
But she wasn't. She wasn't anywhere near fine. She wanted him to hold her in a loving embrace as she cried, stroking her dark hair tenderly as he soothingly calmed her. She wanted him to rub her back until she fell asleep in his athletically chiseled arms, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until her breathing regulated. She hadn't been able to halt her thoughts of him since their uncomfortable, awkward encounter when she'd thrown up in that very janitor's closet. She was extremely embarrassed yet, but she didn't care if he would become all hers. He was perfect.
"Are you sure?" Troy whispered uncertainly, unconvinced. Gabriella gazed profoundly into his mesmerizing eyes, so welcoming and genial. She fought the strong urge to dive on him and devour his mouth and make him want her. She was probably just another brainless chick to him. He had the whole school population, falling at his feet. He could have any girl he wanted. Gabriella knew not to let her imagination wander, knowing that the busy boy would never fall for her. But she never knew he could be so caring like he was being now. In their English class, he sat right behind her, but his buddies sat all around him. As you can imagine, they fooled around constantly, yet somehow, Troy managed to ace all the essays and tests. Gabriella wasn't fond of his persistent joking-around-in-the-back-of-the-classroom thing, partially because she sat right in front of him, but she was pleased with how his grades were topnotch. She almost liked the fact that he broke the stereotype of jocks being dumb, because she knew very well he was a smart guy.
They hadn't interfered many times since the vomiting incident, mostly because they were both so embarrassed, shy, and nervous. It was the first time that Troy had really been so hesitant and timid in his life. Worries relentlessly flocked his brain, asking himself what would happen if he messed up around her. He stressed over the smallest things of how he acted around her, and he didn't know why. He suddenly cared how his hair looked; how he smelled; what he wore. It was all so new to him. He had never been in love before, and he hadn't been planning on it either, but boom. Suddenly he was in the midst of feeling the best he had ever felt before. He didn't understand how he could owe it all to one person, and that never ceased to amaze him.
Troy sat down beside her carefully, folding his legs and letting his knee touch her side. "Tell me," he whispered gingerly, studying her fallen but beautiful face intently. "You can tell me." Gabriella gazed into his endless eyes, infinite of space and stretching to the galaxy, it seemed. She wanted to swim in that remarkable blend of blues; wade in that deep ocean forever; let the mind-blowing waves of love take over her; not caring one bit if she drowned. She analyzed them absorbedly, taking note of the trouble that seemed strewn between the countless shades of sapphire. She made it her mission to discover why that strip of solemn gray was there—what personal secrets he was keeping behind those mysterious eyes. But they were so tantalizing. So inviting. So fresh and new and exciting, making her feel exhilarated and open and suddenly wanting to know more. She wanted to share, but not without gaining something of her own.
"Only if you tell me," she murmured quietly, blinking back the leftover tears. "Only if you tell me," the limp girl repeated faintly, her dreary eyes never once traveling from his own to investigate his physically fit form, pressed up against hers, his rough hands set softly on her waist.
"I promise."
"I promise."
And they openly spilled their lonely hearts out to one another, finally feeling like they found a place in that school.
A place in that state.
A place in each other.
A place in that unfair world.
"So you'll call me later?" Troy asked Gabriella frankly as he slipped on his T-shirt, his baby blue orbs locked on his lover's. It was as if their eyes were magnets, always having the craving to be connected with each other's. It was some superior force neither could seem to understand.
She nodded in response, her tired eyes not once leaving his, adding quickly, "And if I don't, I promise I'll text. But Troy, I'm sorry. I just need to find Eric and apologize." The brunette sighed sorrowfully as she pulled the blankets up to her neck, consciously covering over her nude form.
"Look," Troy blubbered clumsily like a fish, nervous as he began running his fingers through his stringy hair. "I know I should be the one going after Eric. And I know I should be going with you at least. But I need to—"
"No, Troy," Gabriella interjected understandingly as he swiftly strode over to her, cupping her pale cheek affectionately in his calloused hand. "I get it. Go to your dad. I'll sort it all out with Eric." Troy stared deeply into his ex-girlfriend's eyes, searching for a hint that she was lying. He felt terrible, leaving her to repair the misunderstanding between her soon-to-be stepbrother while he hastily scurried off to his father's house. Coach Bolton was going berserk at the disappointing news Eric had hurriedly informed him, which was Eric's serve of revenge. Eric had spilled everything to the infuriated Jack Bolton shortly after exiting, and Troy's father had immediately phoned his son and demanded him home at once. Troy had no choice but to go. He sighed unhappily as he knew the information was only more of a reason to backup his father's claim that all his girlfriends were sluts.
"I'm so sorry, Gabriella," Troy whispered gravely, pressing his rosy lips to her smooth forehead. Gabriella's eyes fluttered close at the astounding touch, sparks flying in the air between them. "You know I don't want it to be like this."
"I know," Gabriella replied desolately. Troy leaned downed down and brushed his lips against her softly, her velvety skin moist and warm against his. "I haven't forgiven you yet, Troy. And I still don't trust you but…" She sighed as she bit her lip. "I need you." She paused thoughtfully. "I'll be thinking of way to make this work, Troy." Troy nodded in eager agreement, his fingers intertwining with hers.
"As will I," he murmured in her dark hair before pulling away unwillingly, walking backwards to Gabriella's white balcony door. "Call me, okay?"
"I will," Gabriella smiled genuinely, picking up her sweater from the floor and sliding it over her head, standing up and walking over to her closet. "I promise." Troy grinned a final time, despite the fact that he was going to get a major whipping at home, scampering out of her room and down the tree beside the balcony. Gabriella couldn't help notice the smile plastered to her face, feeling so natural with Troy now.
They had cleared everything up before. After Eric had left, they had sat in the bathroom curled up together, and completely poured their hearts out, not leaving a single detail out. It had reminded Gabriella sharply of that time they had first opened up to each other, cooped up in that haunting janitor's closet. Gabriella knew he was just trying his best. She knew that, but there were still wounds he had caused her that only time could help heal. Troy understood that, and was willing to wait. They had both confirmed once more that they were going to figure out a solution together, and put the time into their relationship if needed. Gabriella knew now that he was different there in Albuquerque. Troy admitted he was an asshole in New Mexico, but was trying so so hard not to be. He was told her what to expect, and Gabriella drank it all in, formulating and discussing with him how they were going to deal with Troy's different personalities. Gabriella was going to give him a chance. It was the least she could do. She truthfully felt relieved after that lengthy, honest conversation, almost feeling refreshed and definitely much more at ease with him.
Now they just needed to think up a way to patch up their wobbly relationship.
Gabriella quickly got dressed, rushing out into the hall and yelping as her small foot came in contact with someone else's, and she immediately knew whom it was at the honey scent filling the air. "Oh!" Victoria squealed. "I'm sorry, Gabriella—I didn't see you! I didn't mean to step on your foot, really!" Victoria sputtered fretfully. Her light brown hair flowed down her back perfectly, and she safely tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. "Really, Gabriella, I didn't mean—"
"—It's fine," Gabriella interrupted reassuringly, waving her hand to convince her. She truly didn't have the time to hear Victoria continue to apologize until she was on her knees. Time was ticking and rapidly running out. "Sorry, I didn't see you coming. I'm a in a bit of a hurry…um, do you know where Eric is?" Gabriella asked anxiously, her pulse beginning to quicken. She needed to find him before he could do any damage. Before her mother and Preppy found out.
"He went to my mother's," Victoria aided cooperatively. Her big blue eyes seemed to smile at Gabriella in their own sweet way. "One twenty-eight Coopersville Road. He looked a little mad—"
"—Thanks!" Gabriella gasped exasperatedly as she raced down the hallway, not waiting for Victoria to finish her ramble.
She needed to get to Charity's as fast as she could.
A/N: Voila!
And yes, the flashback in the beginning was the same memory Gabriella remembered.