All day I think of schemes to get you next to me.
I want you so bad that I can barely breathe.
It's a sign of my obsession that I can't stop thinking about.

-JESSICA SIMPSON

Gabriella's Mind-

I've only been going to East High for a few weeks. Already, there was some kind of commotion going on. The sad part was the fact that it actually involved me. I mean what the fuck? I didn't do anything wrong here. I was just having a good time, minding my own business. I didn't exactly jump on top of Chad Danforth and tell him that I wanted to marry him. Hell, I never even said I liked him. I've realized that guys may possibly be more dramatic than girls nowadays. He was making a big fuss because Troy and I almost kissed. And the fact that Sharpay told him was beyond me. She was just like the other half of him or something. They were little conniving assholes and I was really sick and tired of being included in this gossip halo. I mean, I had enough things to worry about.

I mean, Troy Bolton was having erections because of me and I had to worry about some stupid shit that Chad was starting. I really didn't care. I was much more involved in the whole, guileless, 'I accidentally got turned on by you' situation. I mean, how fucking cute was that? Sorry. Damn, I really was out of whack. I knew it. I've never been this amused by innocent guys before. I mean, he doesn't even have a tattoo, yet alone a piercing! He doesn't drink, smoke, or have sex . . . what the hell was wrong with the boy? I have no idea. But I still want him . . . so bad.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. We were in his um . . . 'beast' (I'd really prefer to call it that, it really doesn't qualify for a vehicle), and I couldn't stop smiling over it. I knew if I'd mention it again, he'd like attack me or something, so I didn't. But I couldn't keep my mind off of it. This meant serious business. I mean, it meant that he thought I was hot. He couldn't just think sexual thoughts about me without thinking I was the least bit attractive. He wouldn't have gotten such a rise. And oh my God, he got a rise. Seriously, were penises allowed to push out so far? I could see it through his basketball shorts. Was he not wearing underwear? Or maybe he just wore lightweight briefs. Fuck, Troy in briefs . . .

I seriously thought for that very second that I had just died and went to heaven. Really, though. Troy Bolton either had an extra large package or he just didn't wear very helpful undergarments. Whatever it was, it showed that he wasn't gay and that he wasn't completely indifferent to the opposite sex. (I'm not gonna lie, for awhile, I really thought he might have been gay.) And the fact that he got all shook up about it just made it so much funnier. I mean, I never thought I'd witness such an event. It was just hilarious. I've never seen his face turn that red and the fact that he practically ran to the bathroom made me laugh even harder. I almost cried. I'm not joking. What was up with that kid? He was such an amateur. I couldn't help myself. He was so naïve to everything, for an eighteen year old. It simply amazed me and diverted me at the same time. He was different than anyone I've ever met. I mean, he was different than Ryan and Chad, or any of those guys. There was something more about him. It wasn't just the random, 'deep' moments where he just acted like a total sweetheart, but the moments where he just bit his bottom lip and scratched the back of his head, gawkily. He acted so differently than everyone else, he was so peculiar. But at the same time, I liked it. I really liked it.

Zeke was throwing the after party at his house, and it sure as hell looked like an after party. When Troy and I drove up in his piece-of-shit-thing-he-uses-for-transportation, we just kind of stared. People were outside, staggering from side to side. It was obvious that half of the people at Zeke's were drunk off their asses already. I mean, it was only nine thirty. People acted like it was midnight.

Beer bottles were thrown out all over the lawn. Zeke's lawn was usually very clean and well-kept. Tonight, it looked like a disaster.

Couples hung onto each other tightly, in fear of passing out from the gallons of alcohol they must have consumed. The faint smells of piss, beer, Smirnoff Ice, and vomit filled our nostrils as we got out of the beast. I knew Troy was frowning already. He didn't want to do this. I pressured him into it. I wanted to get drunk though, like really bad.

Before we walked in, he pulled me to the side of the house, ignoring the drunken bastards who were snickering at us, and the little whores making comments about how 'sexy' he was. But with the moonlight reflecting on his face, articulating his eyes, I couldn't deny it - he looked dangerously beautiful.

"Look, I'm going to avoid Chad . . . and, if I'm going to take you home, that means . . . no drinking." He kept his voice low so that the ugly jackasses next to us couldn't hear as they moved their ears closer.

I almost laughed at him. He knew damn well that I never listened to people, and I was probably going to get drunk despite his little commands. Nobody could tell me what to do . . . never.

"You're fucking me, right? I think you and I both know I'm getting hammered no matter what." I didn't show any anger or resentment towards him.

"Gabriella . . ." He wore a rather painful expression on his face. "I don't wanna have to babysit you and have you puke all over my vehicle, seriously. Can't you just not tonight?"

"Dude, it's a party, let loose. I'm getting drunk. And you should too." I suggested, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

He gave me a look of frustration and I knew he was getting annoyed with me. He may have looked absolutely amazing but that didn't stop me from having my good time.

I smirked, knowing I won the battle and headed into the house. I felt him at my heels. I knew he didn't trust me at all. I didn't need a fucking protector or something though. I mean, honestly. I knew why he was being this way - he was following his daddy's rules, and he didn't want to get in trouble for aiding a drunken girl back to health. Yeah, I got it. I just didn't give a shit, particularly.

Music thundered throughout the house as I walked in. Zeke had a rather expensive, lengthy house, but right now, it just looked trashed. It was so crowded; I had to push through the people to make it into the kitchen. Troy was behind me, trying to keep up. A few smutty guys catcalled out my name, grinning as if they had a chance. I completely ignored them, heading towards the kitchen. I could see Troy's grimace. I just chuckled.

"There you guys are! My homies, my bitches, my posse," I rolled my eyes as we entered the kitchen and Zeke greeted both of us with a huge, outstretched, bear hug. He reeked of alcohol and I almost vomited from the intense smell of his breath. He then moved out and glanced at us, thoroughly. "You two . . . are you like, getting some?" A gross smirk appeared across his face.

"You're so gone, Zeke." I chuckled.

"Troy? You been getting some titties?" He asked, his eyes shifting to Troy, who gave him a rather atypical look. Before Troy could even respond, Zeke seemed to get extremely excited and smacked a hand down on the kitchen table, "AW, shit, bro! I knew this day would come - Troy's a man now!"

Troy just turned and rubbed his forehead. "Man, you're drunk."

"Like hell, I've been getting wasted! Man, you should see all the hot chicks I've been grindin' on. It's some sick shit; we've got some fine ass females here!"

We were interrupted by Sharpay who came up behind Zeke, who could barely keep his balance. Sharpay had an abnormally happy smile on her face and she seemed to lack a lot of clothing. I couldn't help but notice the way that Troy's eyes seemed to glide down her body. What a little drunken slut.

"Gabriella! Thank God you're here, girly. We're just getting started with grinding." She grinned and began to dance against Zeke who just continued making weird, high-pitched -Michael-Jackson like howls.

They were so plastered it seemed impossible to have an actual conversation with them.

"I need a drink." I muttered, making my way out of the kitchen.

The crowds hadn't died down since I last checked. I had to push passed more people just to make my way through. I was hopeless for some booze. I needed something. I needed to clear my head, to have a good time, to just let go. I needed that carefree aura - I needed to relax my brain.

I smirked at Jason Cross, who was handing out the trays of shots. I couldn't help myself. I made my way towards him and he just smiled at me, doltish as always. He hooked me up with some Smirnoff Ice though. (My personal favorite, if you must know.) I thanked him and headed towards the center of the living-room. Everybody seemed to be breaking down. The music was catchy. Blame It by T-Pain seemed to blare through the speakers, capturing the sways of many hips. I found myself against some guy. He was kind of tall - had some balky muscles, and had dimples in his smile. He was hot.

Minutes passed. The intensity of the music flow seemed to keep everybody dancing. I could take in the aroma of sweat forming around me. My ass continued to duress against the muscular man behind me. Alcohol had hit my system and everything became a game. I couldn't concentrate on anything but the beat, the rhythm of the song. Perspiration crystallized along my body - from my forehead to my long, moving legs. They ached for rest but I was so caught up.

"Hey, can I exchange spots with you for a second?" A familiar voice asked from behind me.

I have no idea what happened. The heat in the room increased as I felt a rather different body structure gang up against me. My ass rid up on his junk and I knew very well it wasn't the muscular, dimple guy. No, this guy was gifted. I turned to look, slightly, and realized it was none other than Troy Bolton. And the song Just Dance by Lady Gaga came on.

My breath suddenly froze in my throat as I smelled the vague alcohol that seemed to ooze from his perfectly shaped lips. I wondered, but figured that Zeke or somebody had tricked him into drinking. I noticed the confidence that seemed to emit off of him as he kept in unison with me. I felt my pussy throbbing for him, uncontrollably. I wanted him so bad.

"Are you drunk?" I asked over the heaps of voices, barely moving my eyes to meet his.

"I don't get drunk." He responded, yelling back to me.

He was beginning to sweat, just like me. I yearned for him even more as he breathed against my earlobe; the thoughts of him unclothed propping into my head. I moaned. I could barely hold back my desire for him. He felt so damn good.

The music came to a halt as I turned to face him, shocked at his dancing moves. He had to of been drunk. His eyes were glossy and a sinful smile tugged across his lips. I wondered where the innocent, guileless Troy had vanished to. I almost felt more vulnerable in front of this new, self-assured Troy.

However, when I raised my hands up to his chest and began to caress them against his dampened body, his expression turned to something I was used to. His lips departed as if he couldn't breathe correctly, his body posture stiffening at my touch. I felt addicted to the contact on his skin. I was just desperate to see what was beneath, what lied beyond the gorgeous layers of his clothes. His hair looked wet, showered from sweat, and fell lazily into his eyes. The impulse beneath my legs grew stronger as I foxily fingered his member. He stirred at the faint touch - inhaling a rather sharp breath.

"Let's get away from all of these people - go upstairs for a little while," I suggested, my eyes lingering on his jeans, which seemed very tempting to pull off at the moment. He didn't answer; he just moved a thin piece of hair out of his face and looked to the ground, timid as hell. "You know you want to." I cooed, pressuring my body against his.

He looked as if he was ready to cave in, to break any second. I could feel his hard-on from just the close intimacy between us. I glanced back at him, invitingly, and then advanced towards the stairs. He followed me, hesitantly, and I could see the look of uncertainty located in his eyes.

Zeke's bedroom was the only room that had an actual bed and seemed to expel more silence than any other room. I pulled Troy into the room, my fingers pinching onto his shirt. He looked a bit nervous - his eyes shifting uncomfortably, but he didn't run away, he didn't try and break free of my grasp.

My vision seemed to be half-blurry but I could make out the bed as I shoved him onto it. He lay, rather ossified as I looked down at him. His eyes still seemed so beautiful though.

"I . . . don't think this is a good idea, Gabriella, neither of us is in the best state of minds . . ."

I could tell he was a bit out of it by the way he worded this. And his eyes seemed to be half-closed. I loved the curiosity overpowering me at the moment. I just wanted to do this so bad. Everything seemed to take me over.

Within seconds, I was on top of him. I didn't kiss him, I didn't peck him anywhere. I was tangling my hands inside of his shirt, hopelessly obsessed with the gorgeous muscles he mustered in his stomach. I could hear him breathing in and out as I moved my hands further down. I found myself trailing down the nebulous hairs of his stomach, unraveling a path that lead down to his jeans. I felt a tremble jumping inside of me and my nether region. I felt a sudden wetness, and I found myself shaking as I fingered the trail, now touching the rims of his jeans.

I could hear his breathing stop and he suddenly became tense, "Gabriella, I . . ." He was trying to stop me but I wouldn't let him. I wanted to discover this. I wanted to see what lies beneath the beautiful Troy Bolton. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to hear him fucking moan.

I pulled down the jeans and I felt my heart nearly popping out of my chest. I felt so much anxiety I couldn't control myself. And I almost died when I seen his gray, Calvin Klein brief boxers. They were so tight and so god damn beautiful. I just looked at them. I looked at him. He was so fit . . . from his chest muscles to his rippling abs, to the wonderfully shaped legs he owned . . . I found myself nearing passing out.

"God damn . . . you're . . . beautiful." I whispered, unable to hold it in any longer.

I hadn't even seen his package yet. I was already entirely aroused and I hadn't even seen his manhood yet! I felt like such a vulnerable little virgin. That never happened.

He was just watching me, his eyes tense and hard, and a nervousness coming from them.

"You really shouldn't . . ." He whispered, a worried voice present now.

I ignored him as I became eager to see beyond the boxers. I felt the stimulation take me over as I pulled down his boxer briefs revealing none other than Troy Bolton's erected member which I imagined could have been somewhere around six and a half inches. I just stared in marvel, unable to contain my shock. He was just . . . extraordinarily wonderful.

I could hear him breathing unsteadily, as if unsure of what my reaction was. Instead of saying anything, I grasped my hand out and stroke it, up and down. From that instant, he stopped complaining immediately. I moved it in an up and down motion, despondent to get Troy satisfaction. I could hear him breathing heavier as I continued to do this. I then went down on him, engulfing his shaft as I pursued my lips around his pride and glory. He groaned in pleasure, his lips trembling in a way that made me lose myself. I didn't want this to go all the way. I knew it'd cause a mess. But I couldn't pull myself away. I loved the look on his face. He was so fucking attractive.

"I can't . . ." He breathed, "Not here . . ." As if reading my mind, he reached for his boxer briefs. I watched him as he pulled them back up and began to put on his jeans. He was like a damn angel, I'm telling you. I've never seen a man that beautiful . . . naked.

"Troy . . ." I whispered my want for him not yet completed. He lifted his eyes up to me from his jeans in which he was zipping up. He was still shirtless as I moved closer to him, grabbing his hands and forcefully jerking them up my shirt. He looked at me, as if surprised by my action. I allowed him to discover my breasts, and his warm hands felt sensationally wonderful across my nipples and bare skin. I whimpered in amazement as I felt the jolt of chemistry coming from his touch.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

END OF CHAPTER

I'm an ass, I know. Yell at me, why don't you? But Oh my god, Troy in those boxers... I had to. I heard Zac Efron wears them. HAHAHA. Okay, obsessions, done. :P Review if you want to see what may happen next ... and I hope you liked it. That's not the only dirty scene but you knew it was coming, Troy just kept getting excited, and um, notice they haven't kissed yet. Man, I suckkk..:) Love, Whitney.