"I never said I'd take this lying down."
-TAKING BACK SUNDAY
CHAPTER FOUR
Troy's Mind-
It didn't really surprise me that Zeke was upset with me when I walked into Art class that day. It was just as immature and deficient as something he'd do. Plus, he was far too busy obsessing over Gabriella to even think of anything else.
"You look so good today, Gabriella." He complimented her, putting on a large grin.
Well, she always looked good, so that wasn't much of a shock. She had her hair in two braids, and she wore these short jean shorts, and I'm telling you, they reminded me of a little farmer girls' shorts, they were so short - they literally went up her. . .
Yeah. And she wore this revealing sea-colored tank top. Zeke, sitting right next to her, well he had full display, if you know what I mean.
"You already said that," She muttered, obviously fed up with his comments. She looked to me, "so are you coming with us tonight, Troy?"
The indignation from earlier overwhelmed me. I looked away from her intense, large brown eyes, "No."
"What the hell? And just why not?" She looked furious when I looked back to her. It was almost as if her innocent chestnut eyes just turned into a hellion red. It kind of freaked me out.
"Like I said before," I repeated, "I'm in basketball, I have to stay clean."
She snorted, "Smoking a little isn't going to completely ruin you. God damn, Troy - have a little fun." Her voice was rising. Why did she even care if I came anyways?
"Troy's afraid." Zeke added in, disputably.
I rolled my eyes, "You guys are crazy. It's not that, I just can't. You know, you guys can do what you want, just count me out." The two shared disgruntled frowns.
"Eh, looks like it'll be just me and you." Zeke announced, winking at Gabriella, with infatuation. I think she cringed, though I couldn't really tell, I was busy working on my art project.
"Oh, that'll be just delightful." She murmured, dryly, and I could tell she was being sarcastic.
The rest of class seemed a bit too quiet. It was astonishing for Zeke to actually keep his mouth shut for once, and a bit peaceful. Gabriella didn't say anything either, she just kept to herself and continued her art project.
Bolton Residence-
"I just am sick of you sitting around all the time, Troy!"
"Dad, I told you, I can retake it."
"Is this what college is going to be like? Am I going to waste all that money for nothing?" His voice continued to upsurge, angrily.
"Jack, please, if he can retake the test, then I'm sure it'll be okay." My mother always tried to make the situation more quiescent.
My father, of course, rejected, "Damn it. If he's going to be making these kinds of marks in college then he'll never make it." He glared at me, unappreciatively, "You have basketball to work on too. Slacking off in school isn't going to get you anywhere."
I rolled my eyes at him, beginning to head towards my room, "I'm not."
"You better not! I expect a lot better then this." He snarled back at me, bitterly.
I walked into my room and collapsed on my bed, morosely. I looked up to the ceiling with frustration. Why did he have to put so much pressure on me all the time? My dad was far too tense, far too uptight, and paranoid about everything. I was more the opposite, I wanted to have just a normal, easygoing life, without the adversity on top of me the entire time. I just wanted to live.
I sighed, sitting up. I grabbed my backpack and began shuffling through my homework, grasping onto my last test. Why was a C such a big deal, anyways? I was going to retake the test and make it an A. Yet, somehow, he had to find it.
I looked through the answers, attempting to memorize them. I had all advanced classes, Academic Honors - I was one of the smartest guys in the school. Yet, he always had to jump on me about everything. It's not like he motivated me, because he didn't. I just felt like it was required. If I didn't get good grades, I don't know what would happen. I guess living a perfect life has its disadvantages.
I was already exhausted from basketball practice. I felt like I was about to pass out on my bed. I was so tired. I grabbed my basketball from the side of the room. I had to let off some steam. It was about seven o'clock, and the sun was setting. I shrugged it off, jogging outside.
Albuquerque's sunset seemed so colorless for some reason. Most of the lands were a dirty, tawny color. You get used to it eventually.
As I began to dribble it up, I heard a noisy, liberal car pull into the driveway of the house adjacent to mine—Gabriella's. Sure enough, it was Zeke's vehicle. He always had a huge, junkyard-like truck, that couldn't run for anything. And when it did run, you could hear it from miles away. They both hopped out of the truck, laughing hysterically. I found myself staring, disrespectfully, but I didn't care.
She was dangling from him, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend or something. She couldn't stop giggling at everything. He was wobbling, as if he was messed up, or couldn't see what he was doing.
"That was so fun." I heard him mutter, exhilarated.
She only giggled louder, "I know. You are such the stud." I rolled my eyes, how many guys has she said that to in her lifetime?
"So, Baby G, I'm gonna let you off here. I gotta get home." Zeke confessed, giving her an apologetic smile.
"Okay dokey." She responded, rather dizzily.
He let her go, and I was flabbergasted. I was expecting her to fall over instantly, being released from his grasp. He headed towards his beat up truck, and started ignition, driving away. I watched him drive down the road, in the middle of the road. Yeah, he was definitely not qualified for driving tonight.
And almost on cue, Gabriella fell over, flat on her face. I almost felt sorry for her. She looked so helpless. But at the same time, I knew why. I watched for a long time, as she attempted to make her way back towards her house. I assumed her parents weren't home—no cars were located in the driveway.
She was trying to get up the steps of the porch, when I could tell she was slipping backwards. She looked so skittish. She was in the process of falling, when I darted over towards her, breaking her fall.
"Troy." She slurred, in response to noticing my face. "You're too sweet."
"Gabriella, you can't make it up the stairs. You're going to kill yourself." I stated, as if it was just as simple as that.
She glared at me, "I can too—it's just so slippery. Did it snow?" She asked bursting out into laughter, hysterically, tears practically running down her eyes.
"And this is why I don't drink or smoke." I muttered to myself, grabbing her by the arm, and helping her up the steps.
"Hey, you sexy beast . . . I can help myself, thanks," She garbled, weakly trying to push me out of her way, "you should take those clothes off—it's too hot for you to be wearing them." She grinned.
"You're crazy, you do need my help." I informed her, grabbing her arm again, which she jerked away. "Gabriella," I gritted my teeth, agitated, "look, do you wanna break your head open?"
"Your hair is so perfect, God, beautiful." She began to stroke my hair, absentmindedly.
I rolled my eyes, hauling her up the stairs. It wasn't working very well she was far too preoccupied with my hair and wouldn't cooperate with me.
"Gabriella," I mumbled, aggravated, "leave my hair alone."
"But it's so pretty - prettier then my hair. If I had a Barbie, you'd be my Barbie."
"That's promising." I groaned, and then picked her up from her sides, lifting her in the air. She fusilladed into a bunch of giggles.
"Ah, are we going to go make love?" She slurred, smiling.
"No, do you have a house key?" I inquired, frowning as we approached the door, her in my arms. For a short, petite woman, she sure seemed heavy.
"You're so strong. You're like Mr. Clean." She smirked wider, "You have the key to my heart."
I shook my head, "Gabriella, a house key, I said - as in, a way to get into the house? That is, unless you want me to shove your head through the window. And I can't say that would be comfortable."
"You're going to shove my head through a window?!" She shrieked, and pushed me away frenetically. Unexpectedly, I let her go, falling backwards. I caught myself before slipping down her porch's stairs.
"It's down my shirt." She said, smiling.
I rolled my eyes, "Somehow I don't believe that."
"Well why don't you go down and find out?" She suggested, the smile not faltering.
"You're insane." I gave her wide eyes.
"Eccentric." She smirked, dauntlessly. "You know I'm afraid of the dark." She pointed one of her fingers onto my black v-neck shirt. "I have to put a night light on."
"Awesome." I didn't really know how to respond to that. Here we were, standing on her porch, not really knowing what to do. Or at least, I didn't know what to do. She was too incognizant to even know what was going on, just standing there, leaning on her houses' siding, her eyes cloudy.
"Are you scared of me, Troy?" She asked, sharply, batting her eyelashes at me.
I folded my arms, looking away from her, "You know it's not really the time to talk about things like this. I need to know where your home keys are at, Gabriella."
She only whisked closer towards me, grinning, naughtily, "You are. Why do I scare you?"
The closeness of her lips to mine made me uncomfortable. I turned my head away, unable to resist the temptation of being that close. "Gabriella. You're wasted."
"I got crunk." She corrected, jabbing a sloppy finger at me - as if that changed anything. "Why don't you like me Troy?"
I looked at her for a second, befuddled by her question. "I know you don't. You're afraid of me!" Her tone changed dramatically, now she sounded angry. Her anger faltered quickly though. "I think you're cute."
I looked away from her; I was speechless to her ‛crunk' confessions.
Something deafening interrupted the silence between us. A silver Kia Rondo pulled into Gabriella's driveway. And then it hit me—it was her parents. I froze up, suddenly a bit nervous. What was I going to say? I found your daughter like this? Great - now they're gonna talk to my dad and I'll be in big trouble.
"Fuck, it's them." She grumbled, nonchalantly. "They're gonna shoot me."
"Don't be so dramatic." I said underneath my breath.
They reminded me of her in many different ways. Her mother was more like a duplicate of her, with a much bigger nose, and extra wrinkles. And her father, well, he seemed extremely prudish with his dark suit and his glasses. They advanced towards us, a look of turbulence in both of their faces.
"I. . . I found her here, like this. I was going to help her get in but she didn't know where the house key was." I stammered, quickly, as they looked to me with curiosity.
Her mother approached her, observing her with disapproving eyes. "Gabriella? What the hell is going on?" She asked, suddenly irascible.
"He was going to shove my head through a window." Gabriella pointed to me, glaring. Then, her mood changed within a second. She smiled. "I smoked. It was nice." She giggled, erratically.
Her dad frowned at me, "You did this?"
"No!" I quickly exclaimed. "I was walking outside, about to play some basketball and I seen her stumbling towards the door. She was about to break her back, sir."
"Damn it, Gabriella. What has gotten into you?" Her father grimaced at her, looking like he was about to seriously smack her in the face. He looked to me, a sudden repentant expression on his face. "I'm sorry - thanks to trying to help out my daughter."
"Yeah, no problem sir." I answered, swiftly, as Gabriella's mother opened the front door. I watched as Gabriella's father forced her into the house, a resentful look on his face. I almost felt bad for her. Then again, she did it to herself.
"Goodbye. . ." Her mother looked to me, skeptically.
"Troy, Troy Bolton. My family lives next door." I answered, nodding at her.
"Thank you, Troy." And before I knew it, they all slammed the door on my face.
I stood there for a second, my hands in my pockets. Crazy family. . . I thought, sighing. I then headed back towards my house.
"And it was . . . hot." Zeke continued, exasperated. "You need to get some of that."
I chuckled, over the phone, "Not my type."
"Right, well guess who also has a date with Sharpay this weekend?" I rolled my eyes. I really couldn't stand listening to Zeke brag about everything. It wasn't a surprise that he wasn't mad anymore. He always got over things in just a few hours. Either that or he just needed me around to boast about girls.
"I thought you liked Gabriella." I furrowed my eyebrows.
"I totally do, man. But a guy can never get enough pussy." I could just see him smiling from the other side of the phone. "Plus, I'm pretty sure Gabriella's getting more then one orgasm this week."
I coughed, "Dude, that's enough information."
He snickered, "I guess she's into Sharpay's brother."
I had to stop myself from gagging. "You mean the one that wears pink all the time?"
"Dude, Sharpay only has one brother. And that'd be him." Zeke answered.
"But, doesn't he do yoga or something?" I inquired, disgusted.
"Yeah, apparently, honestly, I think he's a fag. But whatever, man. As long as I can get next to Gabriella, it's fine with me."
"Even if you're sharing her with a guy who does yoga?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in detestation.
"Dude, honestly, you tan in a tanning bed, so don't even start with that shit, dawg. You know damn well Ryan can't handle her. He'll like cum before she even begins to blow him. Then, she'll get away from him and we can call him a loser. And she'll be stuck with me—pimp daddy."
"Pimp daddy?" I had to blink, "Zeke, it's kinda weird that you have this all figured out."
"Hell nah, man. I just like women, unlike someone I know."
"Man, you can stop with the jokes, already. I told you. I think she's hot; I'm just concentrating on grades and basketball. My dad almost killed me yesterday because I got a C in a test." I defended myself.
"Jesus, your dad is a hard ass." Zeke muttered. "Tell him to take a shit or something', dawg. I don't get why he's so stressed all the damn time."
"Yeah, I have no idea." I concurred. "He's mad that you weren't at practice though."
"Aw hell man. He can be mad all he wants. I'm jus' gonna say I was sick." Zeke seemed heedless to this.
"Troy?" My dad's voice echoed through my bedroom door.
I groaned, "Hey, man, I gotta go, he's calling me. I'll talk to you tomorrow at school."
"All right, later dawg." I hung up the cell phone, twirling around. My dad had already entered my room, without even knocking. Well, at least I knew that I had privacy.
"I heard you helped out our new neighbors." He had an unreadable expression on his face.
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. "Well . . . their daughter was . . . unconscious." Well, more like crunked, if that works. As if my dad actually knows what that means though.
"Mr. And Mrs. Montez just came over and told us about it. They invited us over for dinner tomorrow night." His tone was still rigid and stringent.
Oh, that'll be interesting. I couldn't help but cringe a little. "Oh . . . really?" I faked a modest expression.
"Yes. They seemed extremely captivated by your generosity." Suddenly, something weird happened to my dad's face—he smiled. "Well done, son." And then he patted me on the back, turning around, and heading out of my bedroom.
Bizarre much?
"But dude I helped her. . ."
"Dude, she was like falling over." I corrected Zeke, as we headed towards the lunch line.
"I can't believe that you're gonna be over at her house for dinner. You could seriously pop her cherry." Zeke encouraged, grabbing a chocolate milk carton.
"Man, just stop talking like that, for just once." I begged. "She thinks I'm scared of her."
"I think you are too." Zeke was eating one of the apples he had grabbed from the line.
"Man, you can't eat in the line! You're gonna get in trouble again." I muttered, shaking my head, disapprovingly.
"Aw, bite me, Troy. You're such a pussy bitch. Seriously, take a shit for once. Have a little fun - go nuts." Zeke handed me an apple, "Take a bite, you fuck."
"You're insane." I put the apple back immediately. "Just because I avoid getting in trouble, I'm afraid of her? That doesn't make sense."
"Just admit it, dude. She scares you shitless. But at the same time, you want her so bad that you would go to the end of the world and back for her." Zeke stated, dramatically.
"You're talking about yourself. It's just, my dad's already on me. Why rub it in?" I grabbed a pop tart. "Do you understand why they even sell these anymore? Nobody buys them." I put it back down.
"No dude. But you know the cereal here is the shit." Zeke commented, grabbing three tiny boxes of cereal.
"Yeah, that's the truth." I supported, grabbing a box of Captain Crunch, "No, but seriously, man. I mean, why should I make my dad even madder?"
"I dunno dawg. You're always kissing his ass. I don't get why he's even on you like that. You get good grades, you do what you're told, you never disobey him, yet he's still like a splinter in your ass." Zeke paid for his food, waiting for me. "Seriously, I've been waiting for you to just say fuck it man." I paid for the food, the lady at the cashier smiling at me dreamily. I shuddered as I followed behind Zeke, heading back to our table. "That chick so wants your cock."
"That's really not helping the situation," I muttered, disgusted, "especially when you word it so vulgarly."
We took a seat by Chad and Taylor McKessie—Chad's ex-girlfriend. They were talking amongst each other, pretty animatedly. Chad loved her for the longest time. And I'm pretty sure he's still not over her.
"Oh damn," Zeke breathed, pessimistically, "look—gay man's getting some action." His eyes were trailing over towards the opposite side of the cafeteria. I followed them, loyally. I found myself glancing at an elated Ryan Evans, who was sitting at a table with Sharpay Evans, who was boiling. Gabriella was standing by Ryan, talking to him - well it looked more like flirting with him.
I flickered my eyes away, in annoyance. Whore.
"Are you talking about Ryan Evans and Gabriella Montez?" Taylor inquired, looking to Zeke. What was this like a big deal now? She looked interested. "She wants him and he wants her. It's kinda cute, considering they're complete opposites."
"I thought she liked you man." I muttered to Zeke, sardonically. He looked crushed.
"Well, like I said, it's kind of a mattering of sharing, man." Zeke didn't sound as ecstatic about this as he was before. "And I'm well . . . cool with that." He didn't sound sincere.
"She's kind of a whore." Chad added, "I can't believe she thinks she can play so many guys at the same time. Plus, weirdly enough, she flirts with the physics teacher all the time." He flinched, with a foul look on his face.
"Zeke, dude, you're so wasting your time." I looked to my friend, apologetically.
"Hell no - I've got Sharpay's fine ass this weekend. It's okay." He didn't look okay.
What was the big deal about this girl? Honestly? I didn't get it. "Dude, why are you so fascinated by this girl? She's just . . . a girl. And I mean she honestly seems kind of . . . loose." The term seemed to fit her.
"Yeah, that's the point, you idiot." Zeke seemed angry now. "She's different. She's not like the dumb ass preppy bitches in this school. She's just . . . unique, man."
We watched as she walked away from Ryan, leaving him in a daydream-like state. I didn't really understand why guys were so infatuated with her. She was hot, but with how whipped these guys were, it was getting kind of weird. And she was about to hurt one of my best friends, I knew that. He wasn't into Sharpay, he was into Gabriella.
"Dude, she's coming over here." I heard Chad remark, impassively.
I watched as she walked over towards us, in her tight black pants that hugged her bottom accordingly, and her hot-pink tank top that seemed to reveal a bit too much of her stomach. You'd think she'd get in trouble for wearing such provocative clothing. I watched Zeke's face—he was practically drooling. And even Chad looked as if he was out of this world. I looked up to her, and I froze. She was doing that thing with her lips again, the corner of them curving. I about passed out.
"Hey men," She wore a racy smile as she plopped down in between Chad and Zeke. They both looked breathless. She continued flicking her glamorous ebony-colored hair and batting her eyelashes, "what are you guys up to?" She asked, so innocently.
"E-excellent," Chad stammered in response. I noticed Taylor looking away, rolling her eyes in annoyance. I could tell she didn't like Gabriella so far, ". . . Yourself?"
She ignored his question, and her eyes landed on me. I felt my heart stop for a second, and I looked away, trying to avoid the intensity of her eyes. "Troy?"
"Alright." I answered, not meeting her eyes.
"Fuck Troy, woman. I'm good as hell." Zeke interrupted. I heard Gabriella laugh, lightly. Obviously she could stand him now - only because he smoked with her.
"Oh, Zeke," She giggled, hysterically, like a hyena, "last night was so fun. We have to do it again."
"Damn straight - anytime." He winked at her.
"What'd you guys do?" Chad asked, inquisitively.
"Smoked it up, of course." Zeke boasted, flashing a pair of teeth.
I looked at Chad, wondering what his reaction to this would be. He was like me in a lot of ways; mostly he didn't do those kinds of things. He was more reserved, and basketball was his life, so he knew he couldn't. Of course, he ended up faking a smile.
"Cool." He commented.
"Wanna join us sometime?" Gabriella inquired a persuading smile on her lips.
"You know, I think I forgot something in my locker." I suddenly said, getting up, stammering out of the lunch room, and not wanting to hear anymore. Were they going crazy? They were practically throwing away their basketball dreams.
I headed to my locker, just standing there for a second, staring at it, lost in thought. Now Chad was going to start liking her too. What was she trying to do? Corrupt all of my friends? I sighed, opening my locker, and grabbing my books.
END OF CHAPTER
Okay. So now, I'm sitting here listening to can I have this dance? :) Good song. Haha. All right, well remember to leave a review. : P. Love, Whitney.