A/N: Busy busy busy busy. That's what I am and I apologize for lateness. :( I know y'all hate me right now but if it makes you feel any better, I've been writing other stuff. I have all this other work that I'm really passionate about and I have been working on them like crazy, and my focus on this story kind of disappeared. So I am sorry, but I hope I can make it up to you. I promise, by February, I should be posting much more often. :)

Just wanted to add: I posted a new story called Succumb. It's not going to be long...maybe three, four chapters at this rate? Anyway, I worked my ass off, so please, at least take the brief second to skim it. :D I would be more than grateful if you did so.

Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or High School Musical, or anything affiliated with either one. I don't own Twister either.

Gabriella detested this.

Regretting. Feeling so guilty like this.

She knew it had been bad to bash out on Troy so harshly like that, after he hadn't even deserved it, but she had just felt that impulsive urge to prove her point. Permanently. But she had overdone it, verbally slapping him in the face. And now she couldn't bare herself, so heavily salted with guilt. She didn't have to so brutally tear away from Troy to support herself, and she knew that, somewhere deep down inside her. Why had she acted so suddenly? Why had she been so stupid?

She sighed desolately as her dulled eyes stole a spiteful glance at her phone, looking awfully lonely on her snow-painted desk. Just do it, a snappy tone in her head pressed forcefully. Now. Her tiny hands involuntarily dashed to the abandoned phone, Gabriella remotely surprised at her sudden action. With her white fingers irregularly trembling in a sort of eccentric vibration, she instantly dialed the memorized number before she could back out.

There was an unidentifiable ruffling on the other end before a mournful, gloomy voice was heard.

"Gabriella," he whispered sorrowfully, his low voice unrecognizably empty and weighted with unbearable despondency. The somber notes swimming in his voice spelled out how forlorn he was for her, the intolerable longing for her unable to be any more evident. Gabriella's heart ached compassionately with unflinching lament and sank so far down she was sure it was just going to drop out of her system.

"Yeah," she choked out hoarsely. Her throat was suddenly parched and she found it very difficult to talk. "It's good to know you know my name."

"Gabriella," Troy repeated lamely, weakly, defenselessly—he seemed to be surrendering, Gabriella realized with widened eyes and a bit of alarm. "I'm sorry—"

"—No, I'm sorry," Gabriella interjected with a despairing sigh. "I didn't mean it like that—I just want to be a bit more independent. But I hope you didn't think that I wanted to break up with you—oh God, I don't even remember what was going on in my head…"

"It's fine, Gabi," Troy whispered calmly. "I know. How about we just have a movie night?"

Gabriella grinned delightedly. "Perfect. My house, at nine?"

"Sounds great."

"Okay. I'll see you then. Bye."

"Bye, Gabi."

Pause.

"I love you."

"I love you too, baby." Gabriella hung up, breathing hard suddenly.

It was going to be a long day. Thank God it was Friday.

Gym class intimidated her greatly now.

The way Mike would glare darkly at her, as if he could clearly see through her gym uniform.

Her natural paranoia kicked in instantaneously; she inched away from him on the bleachers and sat next to Kelsi.

"The perv keeps staring at me," Gabriella said quickly, conscious as she crumpled up somewhat and purposefully angled her body toward her friend's and away from Mike's. "He won't stop looking…"

"Just ignore him," Kelsi advised with a shrug. "When he sees that you're not interested, he'll get bored and stop."

"But it's been like this all week," Gabriella protested somberly. Her forehead creased in fearful worry. Her suspicion only furthered with each tense day. "I just can't stop…thinking that he'll like, snatch me and shove me into a closet and force me."

"Troy will save you," Kelsi reassured her softly, her musical voice comfortingly smooth, rolling melodiously off her tongue with her usual, particularly charming syrupy chime.

Gabriella sighed hopelessly, impatience edging into her abrupt, fidgety manner. "Maybe I don't want Troy to save me," Gabriella muttered, her tone low. "Maybe he's rescued me from danger enough times. Maybe I need to stand up for myself."

"That's true, too." Kelsi nodded vigorously to demonstrate that she agreed, not daring to interfere with Gabriella's adamant, unbending opinions at a temperamental, unstable time like this. She was suddenly so different; so oddly independent. Gabriella wanted to be independent but she was much too apprehensive, without wanting to admit it. She obtained no knowledge of what lay ahead for her, the knowledge she acquired raw with mostly inferred information. Otherwise, she was wholly troubled and mind-crossed and clueless. Kelsi felt sorry for her, but she had no idea what to do but gently nudge her in the right direction and pray she found her way. Yet, she knew that Mike was not the man to deal with on her own. After Troy salvaged her from his greedy, ruthless hands, then Gabriella would begin her spiked journey on the elongated, unpaved road to established independency.

"I want to be independent," Gabriella said firmly. "I want to do things for myself. Not have other people do it for me."

"Okay," Kelsi replied in understanding. "I get that. But after Mike is out of the way. He's bigger trouble than you could imagine—"

"—What?" Gabriella blurted callously, her scarred heart suddenly freezing, her face hardening into stone. "Like I haven't trampled into enough trouble? Like my father's surprise exit, and my parent's costly divorce? Like falling, head first, hard as concrete into lustful, passionate first love with a jock kid who had his own problematic dilemmas to deal with? Like how Troy then left me and I had to cry alone? And then my mother's ridiculous engagement right after all of that? And then moving here, and starting a whole new school? With a whole new batch of fresh faces? For the millionth fucking time? And then my mother's accidental pregnancy with his child? And has been for three months?" Kelsi gasped suddenly in shock, her hands slapping to her gaping mouth. Word had not yet traveled how Maria was pregnant. "IS THAT NOT ENOUGH?!"

Gabriella was breathing violently, panting as her chest heaved unevenly up and down.

She could feel Mike's unsympathetic, demon eyes boring hard into her.

Gabriella stifled a delirious scream in the cuff of her arm as she began to quietly sob, her butt sliding on the cool metal of the bleachers and causing her to recoil onto the one behind it, which was slightly lower. Kelsi was flustered at the entire uncharacteristic scene her friend had created, tentatively rubbing the distressed beauty's back as she privately wept.

"Excuse me," Gabriella whispered hollowly. "I need to go to the bathroom."

She slowly stood and picked her way through the startled clumps of students as they emerged from the locker rooms.

She gasped in alarm as she felt an icy, stiff hand clamp around her petite neck and squeeze tightly, yanking her into the men's locker room in one brisk movement.

"Mike, I didn't—"

"Shh."

Rough lips forcefully pressed to her neck and licked at her nose and smushed up against her soft cheek; Gabriella's breathing hitched in panic, her mind reeling with escape plans at once. Mike slammed her unfeelingly against the row of lockers, pinning her there and trailing his coarse tongue slowly down the side of her exposed neck. His huge fingers knotted messily in her silky hair, yanking her head to one side for better access.

"Mike," Gabriella panted desperately, terror obvious and quivering in her voice. Her heart would not stop hammering in her chest. "Mike, if you know what's best for you—"

He raised his hand to slap her across her cheek.

But he didn't.

"You don't even know what's best for you," he chuckled malignantly, rolling his graphite-shaded eyes as his hand encircled around her neck. He squeezed and Gabriella gaped for air.

"Mike—I w—"

"I heard about how you were sure you could stand up to me alone and blah blah blah…" Mike found this amusing. "And my little cutsie Troy boy is trying so hard to defend you…and you won't let him…and I'm just like, Wow, this just got so much funner." He snickered viciously to himself.

"Funner is not even a word—"

He smacked her heartlessly, not hesitating even for a split second. Her cheek stung and flooded with red, her eyes closing in pain.

"Get used to it, whore."

"Can you just do what you want with me and then set me free? I need an A in this class…I've already forgotten my uniform twice…" Gabriella maundered coolly. Act like nothing's wrong…act like nothing's wrong…stay calm…collect your thoughts…recompose….clear your mind…then think rationally…then plan the escape….

"Listen, bitch," Mike hissed ferociously, his sinister, chiseled face a centimeter away from hers. Gabriella bit her tongue, her brown eyes full with fright. "Listen. Closely. I'm not going to do anything with you today. It's locker check day. So you've lucked out." He paused, the calloused pad of his thick finger tracing the outline of Gabriella's jaw. "If you're smart enough, you won't tell anyone about this." He smirked menacingly.

"I'm not that smart," Gabriella spluttered weakly.

"Just shut the fuck up, okay, angel? Just don't speak of this. To anyone. Once I'm done with you, you'll never have to speak to me again, okay?" He spat nastily, his coal-resembling eyes narrowing and blazing furiously with fierceness.

Gabriella nodded feebly. Her perfect face was growing pale under his death grasp, his broad fingers only tightening more.

"Listen," Mike continued in a steadier manner. "You look like a good fuck…a good virgin…"

"I'm not a virgin," Gabriella blurted suddenly. Oh, damnit.

Mike mouth twisted as if he tasted something awfully bitter, cocking his head to one side. "You're not lying, are you?"

Gabriella stiffly shook her head no in response.

"No…sir."

Mike sighed resignedly. "Just…just get out my fucking sight."

His brawny arms dropped to his sides limply, and he tiredly shrunk onto the bench behind him, his shadowed face falling into his hands. Gabriella coughed the second his hands left her neck, gasping urgently for oxygen and scrambling frantically out the door. She made sure to make sure that no one was watching her exit the men's locker room.

"What do you want to watch…?" Gabriella mumbled absentmindedly, her voice rising vaguely at the end in a question, her mind absorbed into the various film titles. She bit her lip as she attentively surveyed the movies lying beside her on the couch, selecting a particular favorite of hers that she knew Troy liked too. "Ooh, how about The Bourne Ultimatum?"

"Sure," Troy shrugged nonchalantly, slouching on the sofa next to her. His arm reflexively wrapped around her shoulder, hugging her tight for a quick moment before she jumped up to pop in the DVD.

"Would you like popcorn?" Gabriella offered benignly.

"Nah, it's okay, Gabi. I'm fine. You don't have to play host." Troy waved his hand as if assuring her not to worry. He nodded her back over. "Come on, babe, you're just standing there." He smiled as he admired her, how she was so shyly standing in front of the television. Gabriella bashfully walked back, seating herself carefully in his spacious lap. "Has it really been that long?" he whispered teasingly in her ear. "I forgot how shy you really were…because you're never shy around me…right?"

Gabriella shrugged indifferently, warm and comfortable in his arms.

The movie reeled to the start. Both knew the film by heart; neither was exactly watching. They both impassively stared at the TV screen, not really taking in any information as images of Matt Damon outrunning the Tangier police flashed on the screen.

Gabriella sighed tiredly without realizing it. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Positive, Gabi." She felt this indescribable, almost nostalgic ache pound through her chest, not realizing before how much she had missed his nickname for her. He smiled at her and rubbed his nose endearingly against hers, feeling her melt into his comforting embrace. "You want to do something else?"

"I'm a little too tired for sex at the moment, Wildcat," Gabriella murmured wearily. She gingerly laid her head on his chest directly under his neck, the perfect resting spot.

"I don't mean sex," Troy explained unhurriedly as he played with her tiny fingers. "I mean, something else. Whatever you want to do. Any interesting ideas spurting out of that extremely intelligent brain of yours, Ms. Montez?" He could not resist the urge to peck her a kiss. "Or even uninteresting ideas?"

"Well," Gabriella giggled quietly, her familiar warm eyes glistening marvelously. "What about…board games, or something like that?"

"Do you own Twister?"

Gabriella's mouth slyly curved upwards into a knowing smile.

"Mr. Bolton, I don't want to know what's racing through your mind right now."

"I don't want you to know," he grinned boyishly.

Gabriella rolled her eyes with a smile, and stood to retrieve the Twister. Troy pushed the coffee table to the wall, clearing out the space in front of the couch. Gabriella neatly spread out the mat, setting the spinner on the sofa they had just been seated on.

"Alright," Gabriella began plainly. "You spin first."
Troy flicked the black arrow, growing a bit dizzy as he watched it form a blurry circle on the cardboard. "Left hand red," he announced when the arrow finally stopped.

Gabriella stared at the mat for a moment before deciding where to place her left hand, strategically angling it a certain way. She wasn't really bending herself yet…just squatting at the side with her hand on a red circle. Troy picked up the spinner and put it down on the floor beside him, placing his left hand in the red circle next to hers and smirking at her. Gabriella sniggered with giggles, flicking the arrow on the spinner once more. "Right leg blue." Gabriella had to put her leg over Troy's big, crouching body to reach the closest blue ring. Troy laughed as he tried to extend his leg backwards, accidentally knocking his calf against Gabriella's ankle and causing her to buckle down on top of Troy.

"Troy!" Gabriella yelped at she clawed at his back. She ending up sliding down his back and falling in a complicated heap under and behind him. Troy chuckled as he helped her out of her tangled position, both laughing loudly. "How did I know you were going to pull something like that?"

"Because you know me," Troy winked, pressing his lips confidently to hers. "Hey, do you know if I can sleep over? Sex or no sex," he chuckled.

"I don't know," Gabriella sighed with a shrug. "And I thought you weren't allowed to be here…you know, your father…? And I wouldn't want you to lie to him or anything."

"I wouldn't be lying," Troy vowed as he plopped down on the sofa, Gabriella standing worriedly in front of him, hands rubbing nervously together and creating a thick friction. "I would tell him I'm sleeping over at Eric's house. This is Eric's house. And also happens to be yours, but you see, he doesn't know that."

Gabriella sighed restlessly again. "Yeah, but…seriously Troy, I don't want to take any chances. I'm sorry, babe, but I think it's best if you don't sleep over."

"I'm sorry, it's just that…Sage is just a total bitch and I just want to be away from her as much as possible. The way she so fakely fawns all over my dad, while my dad is really fawning all over her. And they just fuck around all day, and it's just beyond disgusting. They just stay in my dad's bedroom, drinking alcohol and fucking like they do…" Troy groaned and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's just that…well, I really miss my mom."

Gabriella gently sat on his stomach, her legs straddling him, her back reclining against his propped knees. She leaned in a tenderly stroked his face, Troy reveling under her marvelous touch. "I miss my dad, too," Gabriella whispered lowly. "I just…you know, it's like that empty spot, right?"

Troy delicately closed the electric blue eyes Gabriella treasured so dearly and nodded, his fingers absentmindedly rising to gently knead his girlfriend's chilly hand. "Uh huh," he murmured, just barely coherent. Gabriella absorbedly tidied his ruffled hair, smoothing his sandy strands out warmly with her dexterous fingers. "Henry's coming home for Thanksgiving break," Troy added, his eyes still shut. Gabriella's demeanor mollified in lament.
"Home as in San Diego, or home as in Albuquerque?" Gabriella asked in a small voice, her large mocha eyes intent on her loved one.

"Home as Albuquerque," Troy answered quietly. "I just don't know what he'll think of Dad. He's been drinking a lot lately, and I…well, it scares me. He scares me."

Gabriella sighed. "Preppy scares me. The way he dresses and acts."

Troy chuckled with a shake of his head and tapped her nose lightly with his index finger. Gabriella mutely situated herself so she was stretched out comfortably on top of him, snuggling into his built figure and pulling up a heavy, cozy blanket from the floor over their bodies. Gabriella's eyes drooped immediately, flurrying close. Troy reflexively began threading his fingers through her beautiful brown coils, so silky through his fingers.

He had really missed this.

And it had only been a matter of days. Maybe a week?

"Again, I'm really sorry," Gabriella brought up the topic again slowly. "I just…wasn't thinking straight."

"So as you said before," Troy commented gently, his fingers tracing the delicately carved contours of her saintly face. "Let's just put it behind us."

"Right," Gabriella agreed. "Just…behind us…"

She felt so calm like that with Troy, in that position. They listened to their synchronized heart beats, so riveting and so tranquil at the same time.

It was not very long until they drifted off to a relaxed sleep.

"I'll see you later, dude," Chad waved from inside his car.

Fuck Elizabeth for taking the car and leaving Chad to drive Eric home.

"Thanks for driving me, man," Eric thanked benignly. "Yeah, I don't know where Elizabeth is…probably at Jameson's party that I know is tonight…. Are you driving Tay home, or are you taking her?"
"Taking her," Chad winked suggestively, flinging a look over towards Taylor, whom was peacefully slumbering in the backseat.

"Have fun," Eric laughed, running his hands through his short, curly black hair. "Alright, see you later."

He jogged up the steps to the front door, Chad reversing out of the Wheaton's driveway and rumbling back down the sleepy road. Eric fiddled with his keys and sighed as he pushed the door open, the warmer atmosphere of the familiar house almost comforting.

But it was all ruptured by…what was that…screaming?

Indeed it was. Eric anxiously slammed the door shut behind him, bounding into the kitchen where the noises were obviously coming from.

Maria and Phillip were standing there, both fiercely red-faced and fuming. They hardly seemed to notice the intruder's presence.

"THAT IS NOT MY FAULT, DO YOU HEAR, YOU DEAF WOMAN?! I TOLD YOU! I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA HOW MY SOCK LANDED IN YOUR UNDERWEAR DRAWER!" Mr. Wheaton was more than enraged. Eric backed away instinctively, never seeing his father so angry. Sure, Charity and Phillip had fought in the last stages of their pathetic, failed marriage, but they didn't scream—their fights were more like intense arguments. But these fights…they were just ridiculous. "WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SPEAK TO CARINA?!?!?! BECAUSE I COULD SPEAK TO HER IF YOU WOULD LIKE!" Phillip cracked his knuckles in irritation, panting out of hollering so hard and loud.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW, YOU MORON! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUCKING KNOW?!?! ALL I KNOW IS THAT I FOUND YOUR SOCK IN MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER JUST NOW! NOT VERY PLEASANT, IF YOU ASK ME!" Maria seethed lividly, her slender arms crossing over her ribcage, just above the tiny bump that was the baby.

Eric hastily stepped in. "Dad, calm down! It's just hormones! You two need to stop this instant!" Eric desperately tried to break them apart, but they only continued to charge at each other furiously. "You're acting like children!"

"WELL, THAT'S WHAT HE IS! HE'S AN IRRESPONSIBLE LITTLE CHILD WHO NEEDS TO BE TAUGHT A FUCKING LESSON!" Maria had been unable to contain herself any longer. Her brown eyes were bloodshot and icy, her face flushed.

Soon they were throwing things.

Eric had no idea what to do. His heart was pounding madly, his forehead aching at all the commotion and noise.

"Dad, stop it! Maria's your fiancée…you love her, you love her dearly, you can't do this—what the fuck are you fucking doing, you're out of your mind—" Eric spluttered frantically, his chest heaving up and down. He ducked as Phillip recklessly lobbed a ceramic salad bowl at Maria, yanking Maria down with him. The painted bowl smashed against the wall behind them, the deafening crash waking Troy and Gabriella below.

"What the hell was that?" Gabriella shot up, sleepy but her eyes still wide.

"Hmm…what?" Troy murmured wearily, his eyes half-closed and his fingers absentmindedly drawing lazy circles on his girlfriend's forearm.

"That…that crashing," Gabriella inquired, her eyebrows narrowing. "Where did that come from? Or is that just my imagination? Am I dreaming or something?" Gabriella sighed tiredly, not rebelling when Troy gently pulled her back into his warm embrace, his sturdy arms enveloping her lovingly.

"Probably, babe," Troy peppered her a chaste kiss to her forehead. "Just sleep…"

Gabriella reluctantly fluttered her eyes close, settling into the basketball captain's comfortable form, splayed down the length of the sofa.

"Troy?" Gabriella whispered concernedly. "Did you hear anything?"

But he had already fallen asleep again.

Gabriella sighed despairingly once more and curled her arm affectionately around his waist, feeling the rhythmic pulse of his heart against her cheek.

But there was screaming. It was faint, but Gabriella could hear it.

Gabriella bulleted up again. "Troy," she anxiously tapped his arm. "Troy, I really think something is wrong."

Another loud crash.

Gabriella yelped, gripping Troy's muscular upper arm in worry.

"What Gabi?" Troy groaned under layers of drowsiness, unwillingly squinting his brilliant blue eyes open.

"I heard another crash…" Gabriella mumbled, her forehead scrunching adorably. "I'm sorry, but I just need to make sure that everyone is okay—"

"YOU ASSHOLE! THAT WAS MY GRANDMOTHER GERALDINE'S FAVORITE VASE!"

"NOT ANYMORE IT FUCKING ISN'T!"

"Oh no…oh no, oh no, oh no…" Gabriella muttered to herself as she thoughtlessly leapt up from the sofa. "No no no no no…"

"What babe?" Troy asked cluelessly, rubbing the sleep out of his magnificent sapphire eyes and sitting upright on the couch.

"My mother and Preppy have gone mad…absolutely mad…" Gabriella straightened out her clothes and rapidly tidied her disheveled hair before scuttling up the steps impatiently.

The scene was horrific in that stunning kitchen of theirs. Eric was hopelessly nursing a bloody, limp arm in one corner, while Phillip and Maria were really going at it.

"I TOLD YOU SPECIFICALLY NOT TO!"

"BUT I WANTED TO!"

"THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU FUCKING DO! HAVE YOU EVER FUCKING HEARD OF RESPECT?!"

"MOM! PHILLIP! PLEASE CALM DOWN!" Gabriella wrestled them apart somehow, but they only magnetized back together, clawing at each other. Gabriella gaped as she watched them hysterically hurl things at each other; anything that was in the room…the closest things. She was sure she was going to be next. She wallowed helplessly by Eric.

He gulped. "They're nuts."

Gabriella gingerly pulled Eric out of the kitchen and onto the grand staircase just behind it, knowing their company would make no difference.

"Are you okay?" Gabriella asked softly to the senior she had grown so fond of. "Is it broken do you think?"
"No…my skin just is a bit ripped up," Eric responded levelly.

Gabriella sighed, and kneaded her temples in frustration. "What time is it?"

"It's around one in the morning."

Gabriella moaned. "Seriously? They just had to pick…" She faded off. "I'm going back to bed," Gabriella started, "after I clean you up in the bathroom—"

"—It's fine," Eric covered quietly. "Go back to sleep. I can do it myself."

"Are you sure?" Gabriella bit her lip.

"Positive. Go on…I promise." Eric smiled reassuringly.

Gabriella sighed and reluctantly stepped down the stairs.

"Hey, where're you going?" Eric questioned as he noticed she was not going up the stairs.

"Troy's over…we accidentally fell asleep downstairs and…I'm just too tired to drag him upstairs or kick him out or anything…so I'll just sleep downstairs," Gabriella explained in a tired ramble. She ran her small fingers through her knotted tendrils.

"Whatever suits you," Eric shrugged. He seemed unbothered that Troy was sleeping over. "Good night."

"Night, Eric," Gabriella smiled tiredly, scampering down the steps and back to Troy. She snuggled up with him again, and it was only a matter of seconds until she glided off to sleep.