A/N: Alright, well tell me if this chapter seems to short! I was worrying that it was...just let me know. I apologize for infrequent updates, but it's really a jumble of reasons why. A) the family computer crashed B) I went on vacation. So yeah. I have my laptop back for the time being, meaning it may be taken away again, but either way, I added the part that was missing in the chapter before this. It's not much, but it felt crucial to me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or High School Musical or any of these characters except mine.

The two teenagers talked about everything. They cleared everything up. Gabriella retold to Eric everything about Troy and their history; about their meeting, their dating, their falling in love, their separation, and their unexpected meeting at the wild house party two hours away. Eric was the only other person besides Troy whom she just felt so free and at ease when she spoke to him, probably because she knew his ears were always invitingly propped open and ready to listen. Eric just seemed to drink it in, politely; but it was more than that. Gabriella felt as if he genuinely wanted to know, not out of curiosity, but because he wanted to find a way to help her. And not just for her. She knew he was like this for everyone. She knew she could trust him. Gabriella continued on and confessed that they were in a bit of a rough patch, adding in that they were united in reason at the fact that they were going to try their hardest in making the relationship work well. They were going to muster up all the effort they had, and pummel it in to their relationship. Because it was worth it. Troy was worth it to her. Troy was worth anything.

By the time she got home, she immediately regretted having stayed with Eric to bowl. She knew that she had had to fill in the deep ditch created in between her and Eric, yet she couldn't help but feel her heart sink solemnly at the heartrending sight of her boyfriend, strewn across her lavender silk four poster on his stomach, his T-shirt carelessly ridden up to reveal his gashed, ointment-treated back. She guessed he'd put on his clothes again, which was a smart idea, just in case anyone walked in. But fortunately, that was unlikely as Gabriella almost had a whole wing of the mansion to herself. His sandy hair was mercilessly disheveled, his cyan eyes closed, and she cracked a sad smile when she heard a grumble of soft snores tumbling from his slightly parted mouth. She noiselessly approached his side, silently dragging up her desk chair to the edge of the bed and waiting there patiently as she admired him. There was just so much about him that she would never get tired of. Before she could stop herself, her thin fingers were threading themselves through his streaked hair, asking herself for the millionth time how she had gotten so lucky.

Why he had chosen her.

Why she had let him.

"Troy?" She just wanted to let him know she was home. He didn't stir. She sighed dryly, and pressed a chaste kiss to his humid, flushed cheek, tiptoeing out of the room cautiously and slipping into the majestic kitchen for a little naughty nighttime snacking. She wasn't surprised to see Eric standing by the marble counter, monstrously cramming handfuls of salt-dusted potato chips into his greedy mouth. But Gabriella was taken aback to see her traitor mother there, not unpredictably equipped with her current accessory. Preppy, of course. They were squished together at a far gray counter; so suffocatingly close, it seemed to Gabriella like an illusion, as if they were sharing one stool instead of supposedly two. The teenager managed to contain her overwhelming gag of repugnance. She silently gravitated over to the wooden cabinets, snatching at the first bags of food her spinning brown orbs landed on. Munching hard on her brittle pretzels, Gabriella tried hard to drown out the vomit-worthy sounds of her mother's whispers and giggles, blended in with her lover's, but found it near impossible. After a while, when she just couldn't take anymore, she secured away the twisted pretzels and began dragging her feet up the steps. But in her mind, the stairway seemed more of a life-salvaging escape route.

"Hey!" It was Preppy's recognizable voice: plain and low and yet grumbling, like a train in a hurry, zooming down the tracks and causing a racket. Gabriella stopped just for a moment, but didn't whirl around. They would have to talk to her back, for all she cared. She snarled nastily for her own satisfaction, because she knew they couldn't see. It made her feel good, oddly. To rebel. To revolt. To riot. To take a stand. To fight back. She relished the delightful hum of those words. "We're just gonna have dinner," Phillip rumbled in his gruff, transparent tone. He gave a minute pause. "Stay Gabriella. Please. Your mother and I haven't seen you in a while." Well, it's not like you want to, Gabriella found herself murmuring defensively in her head, but kept her mouth clamped tightly shut. She grinded her teeth together as she did her best not to stomp down the stairs. It wasn't all that bad though, because they forced Eric to stay too.

Dinner was indisputably awkward.

The only words Gabriella dared to utter were "there's barely any ketchup left," or "this spinach tastes weird." She didn't care much for behaving polite or maintaining her manners at the moment. It was repulsive enough that Preppy and her immature mother were flirting inadvertently, naively, unconsciously before her very eyes; both so-called responsibles hopelessly possessed and locked away in their own little blithe fantasy world. She didn't want to have to stress over how bone-straight her posture was right then. She couldn't. She didn't want to worry over if she were using the right designated fork for her limp spinach salad, which was atrocious, by the way. She hated the cook for using a day off. She didn't want to care about chewing with her mouth closed, and although that was second nature to the frustrated girl, she twanged with heated rebellion and assured Maria she could take a fine view of the potatoes mashed in her mouth if she glanced her way. Besides, her mother wasn't even looking, and if she did, she didn't notice.

But what Gabriella really yearned for was to dart back up to her room and be with Troy. She was so fidgety, her knobby knees jerking and overly anxious to race from the room. Her heart's desire was incredibly strong and almost overpowering her sanity. She couldn't bear to think of him alone up there, even if he was deep in sleep. She just wanted to gaze at him, dreamily drink him all in. She hadn't seen him in months, and there was definitely loving she needed to catch up on. Just thinking about him sent butterflies frenzying in her stomach. She bit back a grin from thoughts of the night before, knowing her achy body this morning was definitely worth the pleasure shared between them. She knew she would never grow tired of that free feeling. She just wanted to experience it again and again, over and over, never stopping. And it wasn't hard to see that Troy felt the same way. There was no doubt in her mind that he was worth it. He was worth every effort of hers. She would make this work. They would. She was completely determined. Nothing could stop her. Even the thwarting actions of her mother.

Eric was also definitely disturbed by the behavior of the two supposed adults at the table. His flushed pink cheeks portrayed that he was embarrassed. And who wouldn't be? They were playing footsie under the table. Footsie. How suddenly had the ordinary Phillip been swept away and replaced with a mushy lovesick teenager, soggy and absorbent like a sponge, soaking in anything that protruded from his beloved fiancée's mouth. It was undoubtedly sickening.

Victoria was glaring down at her plate fixedly, courteously masticating on her cow meat at a snail's pace, her enormous enchanting eyes dilated and squinty. Her striking face was pale and drained, and she seemed more embarrassed than her older brother, and unquestionably more desperate to veil it. Her spidery white fingers tentatively sealed around her chilled glass of water, the transparent glass frothy from the ice cubes floating inside. She buried her nose in her cup as if to obscure herself from the nauseating scene, fuzzying any chance of seeing her father and that Maria woman. Maybe it wasn't such a wonderful idea to have her father remarry if he was going to act like this from then on. She anxiously wondered what her life was going to appear like after the two lovebirds wed.

James straightforwardly sensed the discomfort at the ostentatious table in that spacious dining room of theirs, the other three minors frighteningly immobile in their seats. He hopelessly tried to bungee off a flowing conversation, yet none of the high schoolers appeared to have any interest or energy in speaking, let alone sitting there. He noticed how Gabriella was jumpy, ready to rocket on out of there. Eric simply wanted to vanish for the time being, his face as crimson as a beet. Victoria looked as if this were on purpose, a cruel way to torture her, bleeding slowly to death. James tried to catch the attention of his father, but he barely said more than a word to him. It was hopeless, and as a result, James was caught in a mixture of quite shame and embarrassment. He silently decided that it was better when Phillip and Maria were not home, organizing the wedding and whatnot.

Elizabeth was unsurprisingly absent. Her selected chair sulked lonely in the bare middle of the table, a place having been set for her, like usual, but not having been laid a finger on. Elizabeth was notorious for not attending dinners, or ever being present at home at all. It was as if she were too busy, Victoria noted as she frowned, and she were too good for her family. It was as if her hectic, eventful schedule were far much more important than her blood relations; her drunk friends and drunk parties and drunk fucks taking superior position at the top of her full list. Victoria once idolized her older sister, but no longer. That was long ago, as did it seem so. Victoria mutely vowed to herself that she would never become the fiend her sister had morphed into, so rapidly it was blinding and surreal. The brunette secretly missed the former Elizabeth, a Xerox of her mother, always cheery and elated to be in the company of her family. But now, it seemed like a joke that the two had once been the same person.

The still atmosphere at the table had passed embarrassing eons back. If the children's ongoing silence was not enough, the adults' unawareness of it definitely overthrew all. Gabriella coughed intentionally loud as she stood from her wooden chair, bringing her laden dish up with her, which was mounded with untouched food and pinched tightly in her small hands. "I'm going upstairs," she announced defiantly, her tone bold, decided, and unmoving. Her mystifying brown eyes seemed set and firm as they burned holes through her mother's head. "I have heaps of homework waiting for me, waiting to be done." She supplemented briskly for an extra push, "It's urgent." Her feet seemed plastered to the floorboards, her bones stiff and afraid to budge. Her tongue felt dry from the intolerable thickness wafting in the air, but what else was she to do? There were no more choices. She was done sitting at that table, watching Preppy feed her mother. What were they, five? One more second there, and she was sure she would stab herself until she perished.

Phillip looked uneasy at this. "Alright then, Gabriella, if you really need to…"

"Thank you," Gabriella declared in her controlling voice, swiftly exiting the kitchen and bounding up the stairs with the plate of food still clenched securely in her hands. She halted suddenly by the snow-white door of her bedroom, noiselessly coaxing the entrance open without a single squeak and lowering the platter on her nightstand next to her bed. She couldn't help but smile again at the sight of her lover in the darkness. She could only just outline his body shape on the bed in the blackness, but that was sufficient to make her mocha eyes glisten and gleam with glee. A faint, white beam of light made the room glow with hope, overturning the black into a solemn gray.

Gabriella swallowed a weary sigh as she knew she was better off leaving him to sleep, knowing it was best for him and for her. She needed her rest too. Besides, school was tomorrow. She groaned at the sheer thought. Dreaded school. As much as she loved it sometimes, she hated it too, just the same as everyone else. She snatched her book bag from a dim corner as she remembered the books wallowing inside it, forgotten, also thankfully recalling to grab her pajamas in the process. With one last sweep of her hungry eyes on the gorgeous slumbering figure, she reluctantly advanced to the door, dragging her whining feet along with her, her heart screaming at her brain to sprint back to Troy. But she didn't. She couldn't.

"Gabriella?"

Her unrelenting heart overeagerly hurdled over a beat and skipping merrily, la-dee-dahed fifteen million miles closer to pure happiness. His voice was buried under hours of sleep, muffled and husky, so ridiculously sexy to her. The attractiveness of his tone just seemed to wrench her in, like a magnet. She instinctively took a step forward towards him, her glossy eyes creasing as they settled on the drowsy boy, his coffee hair ruffled adorably. How could she say no? Her sensitive spirit seemed to speak inside of her, the contrary of what her mouth was stating at the same time, "No, Troy. Get some sleep." She paused before adding, "You look like you really need it."

"I need you."

Gabriella's empathetic soul surged at his words, but she somehow managed not to cave in. "I need you too, baby, but I'm sorry, Troy. I've seriously got homework that needs finishing. I'll see you in the morning. I promise."

"Please?"

It felt so good to Gabriella to hear his voice. And it hadn't even been that long. He was like a drug, and she only wanted more. There was never enough of him for her. And she estimated there never would be. But there had to be some limits when and where there needed to be. Of course she knew that, deep down. And when was she going to dig those ditches, and organize them into boundaries? She was not creating another mess. She was starting now with those borders. "I'm sorry, Troy. Goodnight."

Troy pouted as closed his sleepy eyes. "Fine. Goodnight, Gabs. I love you." He swiveled over onto his stomach once more and delved his face into the silk pillow, deeply inhaling his girlfriend's invigorating scent, which drove his wild senses overboard. He wanted her. He just couldn't seem to control himself anymore, especially with the intoxicating Gabriella around. Because that's what she was to Troy. Completely intoxicating. Like a drug, he thought attentively. Troy could feel Gabriella's hard eyes spiraling down on him, and he loved every second of it. Being around Gabriella was like being around a goddess. He just couldn't seem to get enough of her, no matter what. He wanted to be the best for Gabriella, and show her the best he could be. He was not planning to fail at that quest, either.

He heard Gabriella suck in an anxious lungful of oxygen, her breathing haggard and shaky as her captivated eyes didn't dare stray from his motionless form. Knowing her, Troy knew she was thinking deeply. And he would let her. He furtively peeked open one eye at her, ingesting her flawless, curvaceous body and knowing it was as close to perfection as God. He knew she was exhausted, not even needing to spot the proof of violet bags under her dulled eyes, and automatically felt guilty for begging her to stay with him. He saw Gabriella give a tiny, insecure smile at him from the crook of her mouth, her shadowed eyes twinkling in that enchanting way of hers before she spoke, her velvety voice exhilarating for Troy to hear.

"I love you, too, Troy," Gabriella finally replied tenderly, feeling very warm inside indeed as she let her orbs linger on the boy for just one moment, carefully closing the door and creeping into the guest room. She was immersed in affectionate thoughts about Troy as she peeled off her clothes and threw on her pajamas, snuggling under the cozy covers with her history homework and hopelessly trying to concentrate. Her mind kept flying off to the blue-eyed boy snoozing in her bedroom. Why was it so hard not to think about him? She knew the answer effortlessly. She was so madly in love with him.

"We're getting a divorce," her mother choked as if a snake were strangling her, forcing the poisoned words out of her mouth. She just chucked them out there, into the wide-open space and sky, Gabriella feeling her oxygen capacity diminish immediately.

"Di…" Gabriella could barely bring herself to repeat the word. "Divor-rce?"

"Now, why should it be so hard, Ella? He's been gone for a couple of months now," Maria continued nervously, her ineloquent speaking manner unsteady and overflowing with uneasy apprehension. Each challenging syllable out her mouth was its own perilous obstacle. "It's just a finalization."

"F-Finaliz-zation?" Gabriella croaked hoarsely. Her eyes felt uncomfortably dry. She blinked rapidly a few times. Maybe she needed to clean her ears more often.

"Yes…dear," Mrs. Montez nodded awkwardly, not sure how to call her daughter. It was always like that now. Ever since Mr. Montez left them, it was like Maria didn't even know how to behave around her own daughter anymore. How to address her, how to converse with her, and on and on. Gabriella felt like her troubled mother avoided her, neglecting her and almost forcing her to live on her own. Gabriella got the feeling as if she were grieving solely, mourning without someone who could equally share her feelings. Maria was never home anymore, and Gabriella didn't even want to know what she was doing. Secretly, Gabriella had a theory that she would be searching for Jose. But that was only, after all, a mere theory. Otherwise, Maria filled her time with God knows what. She was barely doing her job anymore. Gabriella had no idea how they still had money. She felt like her mother was giving up. It worried her to no end.

Gabriella remained speechless as her mother's words mulled over in her strained brain. They were taking an awful long while to settle in, even partially. They still seemed to float high above her, and she was only trying to grasp the concept, bouncing up and trying to catch them in the air. Or maybe, like most everything else that had recently occurred with her, it would never fully register in her brain. She was sort of hoping that was what was going to happen. And it didn't matter how hard she tried; she knew she wouldn't be able to mumble even one pathetic little word. The only noise she predicted she could compose was a guttural groan of agony. She was in pain. It seemed as if her mother was finally accepting the fact that her father was out of the family for good. Gabriella always knew, deep inside her, but it speared her to know that it was really happening. The last few months had been surreal. She was in a nightmare, and she was just waiting for someone to wake her up. But now, with this whole divorce her mother wanted to pull off, it seemed so…final. As if it all really had happened. As if her father really had packed his bags one night, calling a cab in the wee hours of the morning and escaping with nothing more than a vague note.

That was all she got.

That was what she got for being the best daughter she could be.

For trying the hardest she would ever.

For being herself.