If I don't say this now, I will surely break.

-THE FRAY

Troy's Mind

I advanced towards the front of my house. I have no idea what time it must have been. It had to of been later than eleven, later than my curfew. I'd imagine it was at least midnight. I had been at Gabriella's house for far too long. And for some reason, I had little worries. I mean, usually I was panicky about what my dad would say, how he would punish me. But tonight, for some reason, I didn't care.

Around our house, the garden was enlivened. My mom was always a freak about mending it and everything. I guess that's why she put lights all around it. It looked breathtaking though, even I'd admit that. I was never into the whole garden scene though. And if I was, I'd probably be made fun of more than usual.

Maybe I'd get around the discipline. I tried to be quiet as I unlocked the front door and turned the doorknob. Of course, it was kind of loud, and I winced at the thought of my dad waiting up for me. He wouldn't seriously be that militant about it, would he? Then again, he was that militant . . . everybody knew that.

"Where have you been?" An irritated, thick voice asked from the darkness. Damn it, I thought. He was waiting.

". . . I, uh, went to a party . . . and I lost track of time. . ." That was a horrible excuse. I mean, any normal, mindless eighteen year old could make that up. He was definitely not buying that.

The lights turned on, and there he was, sitting in a chair, his feet lazily propped up on the footstool in front of him. I wanted to roll my eyes because it seemed obvious he was trying to be strait-laced. Then again, it was my dad, and there was no running from that.

"Troy, where were you really?" His lips formed a straight line, and I knew there was no lying with the situation. I mean, I'm lucky he wasn't up in my face, smelling the alcohol on my breath. I'd be cursed, for sure.

"I had to take Gabriella home," I answered, hesitantly, "she needed a ride, and I was the one who brought her there. . . I didn't do anything bad; I mean . . . we didn't do anything bad. . . I just wanted to make sure that she got home alright. . ." I realized instantly how desperate I was for him to believe me, for him to let me off the hook. I couldn't have been so terrified of my dad, I mean that was stupid . . . here I was, basically pleading for his approval.

His expression was unreadable. I wasn't sure how he'd react. I mean, Gabriella had said that she liked my dad. Maybe the feeling was mutual. Maybe the mention of her name made everything alright. Or maybe I was about to be grounded for the rest of my life. Either way, I still couldn't fight off the concern. . . I mean, I was the perfect kid, I never did anything disobedient, and I never disobeyed. This was the first I've ever stayed out passed curfew.

"Well . . . you were only thirty minutes late," He looked away for a second, as if debating, and then he stood up, walked over to me, and slapped me on the shoulder, almost encouragingly, "and it's about time you'd find a girl who's good for you."

Through the dimness of light, I could just stare at him, confused, almost. He thought that there was something going on between me and Gabriella? I didn't even know if there was. That kiss . . . it seemed unreal, but the mere thought of my dad inspiriting the feelings, well, that was just weird. I understood that he wanted me to find someone good for me, but Gabriella? Has he lost his mind? She was the last thing good for me, even I knew that . . . not like it changed the way I wanted her, but seriously . . . how could anyone get an innocent, guiltless impression from her?

I was about to deny it, but I knew my dad was convinced, and plus, I really didn't want to be grounded. If he liked Gabriella, then that was good, I guess, I mean, she didn't bawl him out weeks ago, or anything either . . . how did she manipulate people like this? It seemed out of this world, crazy. She seemed able to put people under spells of her own, lure them in her own way. She was like an inescapable drug, like the nicotine smokers crave for, like the oxygen we need to survive, despite how much we avoided the idea, we would still have to take her in. And once we'd take her in, we'd never get enough. We always wanted more. And my dad, she poisoned him too, she tangled him into her web, put that spell on him. . . I swear it was insane. . .

"Uh, yeah, she's . . . great, Dad. . ." I bit my bottom lip and scratched the back of my head, uncomfortably, politely smiling at my dad. In some way, I was serious, in another way; I was just trying to please him. I mean, I really did think she was great. . . but I didn't believe we sincerely had something going on. . . not saying I wouldn't mind, because more than anything, it was all I wanted. . . but, with her. . . things seemed difficult. I wasn't sure whether she'd even want something serious again, especially after that one guy treated her like she was unimportant. I clenched my fists - how badly I wanted to hurt the guy . . . how could he just . . . treat her like that? I remembered the picture of her and him in her room . . . she looked so righteous, like an angel . . . like she could do no wrong. I mean, this was when she didn't have problems, when she was just your average girl . . . she was beautiful, still is . . . how could he do that to her?

"I judged her awfully wrong," My dad broke me out of my thoughts; "she actually seems like a very nice girl. Yet I can sense there's some mischief involved there. It's always good to have that though, I mean, your mother could get pretty feisty--"

"Dad, please. . ." I couldn't take that anymore. I mean, the idea was just disgusting, and he was in some trance, some faraway place, like back in the past. I didn't want to hear about my father's dirty fantasies, or what they used to be. . .

"Sorry, son," He grinned, wholeheartedly, "didn't mean to give you too much information. . . I'm just saying - you just give her your all, and she'll love it, you'll love it . . . and if you have any questions about . . . well, anything. . ."

"Dad, we've had this talk. . ." I grumbled. I didn't want to have the sex talk now, really. I already knew all there was to know. I was best friends with Zeke, remember?

"Right, humph," He seemed disappointed, "well, you go get it, son." I guess any other dad would encourage their son to have sex, too. But for some reason, it was really freaking me out with my dad. . . I mean, usually, he was piling work on me, telling me about how I needed to get it together in school, how I needed to practice basketball. And here he was, edging on sex like it was the greatest thing on earth. . .

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned away from my dad, heading to my room. Weird. . .

"Night, son." He called to me.

I entered my room, exhausted. The night seemed to bring fatigue on me, easily. I mean, enough happened. I couldn't seem to put away the thoughts of Gabriella on top of me in nothing but a black bra and a pair of panties. God. . .

Just thinking about it, I nearly got an erection.

I really needed to learn how to control myself, that's all.

I threw off my white t-shirt. And then it came to me. I left my hoodie at her house, or more specifically on her. That meant I'd most-definitely have to talk to her again. It's not that I wasn't planning to, it's just the thought makes me nervous. I always felt like an idiot around her - I barely had any self control, I got butterflies, and plus, I could never say anything right. I was just a plain-out dumb-ass and I got all tongue-tied. God, I shouldn't be allowed to be around her, especially with all those delirious feelings of want and desperation. Not only did I want to touch her all the time, my heart practically jumped out of my chest when she just stood next to me. Seriously, what was up with that? Plus, the endless sex fantasies seemed unsettling enough. . .

I unzipped my jeans and shut off the light, crawling into my bed. I knew that sleep would be difficult, but I tried my hardest. I didn't really want to dwell on Gabriella. I mean, it was stupid that I was so obsessed with her that the kiss made me happy. I mean, it was something I wasn't used to. I felt like the gravity beneath me just kind of vanished. I felt like I was somewhere else, like some feeling above everything else. It seemed unimaginable, like maybe I was just dreaming the whole thing. I didn't have any faith in what was actually happening. . . I thought it was all just an illusion. I mean, Gabriella couldn't possibly like me. How was I any different than any other guy? In her eyes, I was just some jerk, just like that one Jason guy. I was barely any different. But in my mind, I felt like I was. I wasn't just some guy that was going to hurt her. I didn't wanna hurt her, ever. I mean, it killed me to watch her look so broken, so weak. I hated the fact that some guy just came and tore out her insides and then walked away. That pissed me off. She didn't deserve that. All she ever did was love the guy. I didn't know love, and I've never experienced it, but I knew it most definitely couldn't be a curse, something bad. It had to be something good, right? I mean, they wouldn't write stories or make movies on something so ill-fated.

It didn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep.

That night, I dreamt of something out of the ordinary. Gabriella seemed to find her way into my dreams. I never had dreams. I mean, I was the one who slept heavily into blankness, so when I encountered an actual picture, I freaked out a little.

It was extremely vivid. I felt the actuality of the dream, like I was literally there. I could feel the emotions of desire and sanctity. I was with her. We were somewhere I couldn't make out. But I could feel her hot, exhilarating breath across my face as she kissed my lips. And I could feel the satisfaction growing in me as I found my way inside of her. I was desperate for breath, my face covered in a pool of sweat. And I could see her face as the energy between us seemed to tire her. But she seemed happy, nonetheless. And that made me happy. Her hair was out in its usual bundle of curls, just making her even more beautiful. I was turned on by her constant breathing and the way that moans came from her lips almost dramatically. It was more like a movie than reality. And I was growing obsessed with the image. I was so close to my triumphant moment that I seemed to block out everything else in the world. All that mattered was the amazing moment in front of me. And the room was smoldering. I couldn't even bare it for one second. I was losing all my self control. And I didn't care for the first time. It was a good release.

I woke up in a strange satisfaction. I realized my satisfaction resulted in something kind of embarrassing underneath the covers. I nearly groaned to myself. God, I wasn't usually the awkwardly anxious, horny, thirteen year old like kid, either . . . this was getting out of hand. I needed to get over my fantasies already. I mean, Gabriella wasn't that hot, was she? What a stupid question. Of course, she was so hot that is was impossible to ignore the thought of having sex with her. But I've never had sex before. How was it possible to be obsessed with the idea of having sex with someone when you've never had sex before? I must have been stupid. Or maybe I was just incoherent; not seeing what was the reality of the situation. The reality was she wasn't into serious commitment, nor was she into caring about someone. And I was. Therefore, we'd never be able to be together. And she'd never want to have sex with me. God that sucked. The actual thought made my heart hurt. Man, that sounds stupid, doesn't it? I must be losing my mind. . .

"Troy, are you up?" Dang it, my mom . . . out of all times, too.

"Uh, yeah Mom, hold on a second. . ." I looked down at my latest dilemma, unsure of what to even do. I mean, I never, and I mean never had wet dreams, that was just humiliating. I usually masturbated before bed or something. . .

God, I know - too much information. . .

But my mom, in all her glory, just swung open the door and walked in, "Dear, you really need to get up, you have to work today."

I was too busy worrying about the problem between my legs, "Um, Mom? Could you give me a second? I'll . . . get dressed." The real point of this was to get her out of my room as soon as possible. I didn't want to have to discuss the problem with my mom. It'd be just like my dad, trying to talk all 'sex education' with me. . .

"Well, sweetie, I was actually going to take your laundry, so if you could just hand me your laundry basket." She smiled sweetly at me, oblivious to the hindrance below me.

"Right, yeah, of course. . ." I stammered. She meant that I had to get up, right? "I'll get them, but can you let me get changed first?" I suggested, quick on my toes.

She looked at me, furrowing her thin eyebrows. "Um . . . well, okay, dear, well, then just drop the laundry basket off yourself. I'm leaving to the store in a second."

"Yeah, that's fine." I told her, secretly rejoicing in my head.

"Don't be mean to Chad, Troy. He's a nice boy." I had totally disregarded the thought that Chad worked with me. We worked on the weekends at the local Auto Repair. We worked on cars, and I'd get free parts to use on my car.

"I won't. . ." I planned on not talking to him, if anything. I knew it'd be weird, not talking to someone who I've been best friends with since I was like four. But I tried to push that out of my mind. Right now, it wasn't really the problem, anyways. I just wanted my mom to leave . . . immediately.

"Okay, well, I'll see you when you get home." And of course, she had to come over and kiss me on the cheek before she sauntered out of the room. I watched her leave, shaking my head.

"You're an idiot." I muttered to myself as I scrambled up the sheets. I changed clothes and threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a purple polo shirt. I then headed downstairs, hoping to God that no one was by the laundry room.

"Good morning, Troy." Damn it. . .

I turned my head slightly; the pile of clothes, plus the bed sheets tucked underneath them, and gave my dad my best smile, "Morning, Dad."

"Since when do you do laundry?" He seemed almost worried about this idea, as he scrutinized me from head to toe, as if maybe I was carrying a gun behind my back.

"Uh, well, I decided to be . . . helpful, I mean, Gabriella makes me want to be a better person." Oh my God, that was stupid. Not only was I supporting my dad's opinion, but I was going along with his obtuse idea about her being good for me - and my illusions of her being with me, literally. This was going to get ugly.

My dad seemed ecstatic though and gave me a full-on grin, "Ah, well, that's always good son. You keep it going." He slapped me on the back, playfully, as he passed by me, the laundry covering my face.

I shook my head and mumbled unintelligent things underneath my breath as I headed into the laundry room and threw all the contents in, making sure my sheets were at the very bottom.

I then turned the thing on and let it start.

I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, saying goodbye to my dad, who just nodded at me from the den. I was almost relieved to get out of the house in a full piece.

I started up my monster of a vehicle and headed to the Auto Repair, hoping maybe Chad wouldn't show up today. I didn't really want to talk and try to work things out. I knew he'd either try to kill me, or he'd try to talk things out. I was too stressed out to deal with either. Then again, he couldn't really kill me. . . I mean, I was stronger then him . . . much stronger. I spent most of my free days in the gym benching . . . he spent them eating junk food and watching porn with Zeke. God, Zeke. . . did he have to be such a pig?

My last predicament hadn't exactly been innocent though. Maybe I'm turning to the dark, dirty side too. It seemed inevitable. Every guy has to go to it sometime. I mean, even the guys that don't want to fold in, they fold in. Some crazy, berserk, gorgeous dark-haired beauty comes along and. . . .

Dang it, there's Chad.

I groaned loudly as I slammed my fist to the steering wheel. I had no luck, whatsoever. I parked the junky truck in the parking lot and hopped out. My boss and Chad were talking together. And then, I noticed someone else approaching them. I sighed. Zeke was here, with a huge homemade pie in his hands. He was tackling it with his mere fingers, just licking them. Why did he have to be such a slob and a pig at the same time? Seriously . . . and no, I'm not gay. I know most gay guys are clean. I may be clean, but I'm not gay.

"Lover boy!" Ugh, here we go.

I headed over towards them, hanging my head in dread.

"What's up, tootsie fruity?" Zeke asked, in the process of consuming his messy pie.

"Tootsie fruity? What does that even mean, Zeke?" I asked, tempted to take the thing away from him and forbid him to eat anymore.

"It means you're fruity, I think, not sure, man. So what's crackalackin'? You get some titties last night?"

I rolled my eyes and looked over to Chad, who was glancing to his feet, shuffling them gawkily. "Doesn't matter, man, what are you doing here, you're not supposed to be bothering the workers."

"Aw, shit, you know me and Dell, we tight as fuck, right dawg?" Zeke grinned widely as him and my boss, Dell, did a secret, 'gangster' handshake. "He don't judge me 'cuz I'm black."

"What needs to be done today, boss?" I asked the boss, humorlessly.

"Eh, we got some old man, he wants a checkup. You think you can figure it out, it's one of those old, Chevy trucks. . ." Dell informed me, skeptically. "But he's got some mad cash on him . . . so. . ." Dell was a big man, probably about thirty-five with dark hair that was almost graying. But he was all for trucks and beer. He lived for the easygoing, humorous moments in life. He wasn't hard to work for. He got along with everybody . . . especially Zeke. And anyone that can handle Zeke, well, I give them the uttermost respect.

"Yeah, I can handle it, man." I told him, confidently.

"Danforth's gonna help you though," Dell added, skittishly. "He knows car problems . . . like the back of his head." He nodded towards Chad, who just nodded, reluctantly.

I shifted my eyes, uncomfortably. I really didn't want to have to work with Chad, as in a team, that meant we would have to talk. I didn't wanna talk about anything, really. I just wanted to forget the argument, the physical violence, everything. It was immature that we fought about a girl anyways.

"Ah, fuck, I'm sure Woody and Buzz will make up eventually," Zeke smirked, "or should I say Jacob and Edward?" He smirked wider.

"Dude, stop reading Twilight, it doesn't make you cool." I told him, shaking my head.

"It does make me cool. Chicks love a guy who can read Vampire love stories," He seemed arrogant about this. "I'm sayin' though. Ya'll need to make amends. It's giving me a headache. We need to all be homies again, ya dig?"

"Zeke, shut up." I shook my head, just irritated by him talking alone. Seriously, you can only take so much of this guy.

"Well, meow, Bolton, you need to take a shit once in awhile, it's like you're constipated all the time, PMS, or some shit, I dunno." Zeke complained.

"Thanks, man, I'll be sure to do that when I have the time. And I'll inform you when I can." I rolled my eyes, sarcastically, and headed towards the vehicle that I'm supposed to check up on.

I crawled underneath it, to examine the base of it.

"The tick is definitely coming from the hood . . . it's not down there." Chad enlightened me from the side of the car. He stood with his arms folded, impatiently. "The oil level needs to be checked."

I checked the dipstick that was deep into the engine, "its fine." I examined the stick; there was a level between the dipstick's two lines. Therefore, the oil was fine.

"Maybe we need to check the valves. . ." He suggested, shrugging.

"Man, we don't have the experience." I told him, getting out from underneath the car. I swallowed thickly, realizing that I was conversing with someone who stole my fame and glory at the previous basketball game. I grimaced, beginning to walk away from him to find Dell.

"I'm sorry, dude." He suddenly said from behind me, his voice sounding sincere. "I mean, about the game - that was really dumb, and really selfish. You're the team captain . . . that wasn't right for me to just steal your position."

I turned to face him, furrowing my eyebrows, "Why would you, man? I mean, for a girl? That was so immature, and you know, I didn't mean to shove you; I just got really mad. . . I mean, what you said about me being so perfect, or whatever. . ."

"Dude, I knew it would piss you off, that's why I said it. I mean, I know how much you hate your dad, and how people think you're perfect." Chad practically smiled. "I acted like a girl."

"Kind of," I supported, modestly, "I mean, man, I really didn't purposely start liking her, you know that. . ."

"T, you never like girls," Chad chuckled lowly, "I mean, seriously, you never get crushes . . . we all think you're gay sometimes because of this, but. . . I get it, I mean, you and Gabriella. . . I get that."

I blinked, puzzled, "Get that? How do you get that? There's basically nothing going on. . . I mean, yeah, she kissed me and everything, but she doesn't want anything serious. I'm just wasting my time. I'm saving you from heartbreak, taking your place, practically." I frowned.

"No, dude, don't you see it? Gabriella likes you, and I mean you need that, Troy. You need love; you need to feel it, just once. You deserve it." He looked at me, almost contemplatively, "You never get serious about girls. I was being selfish, getting mad at you. I've had plenty of girlfriends and I've fell in love before. . ." He looked away from me. "It's about time you did, bro."

"Man, you're crazy. Why do you think Gabriella likes me? I mean, I don't see that. I like her, yeah, I mean . . . probably too much, but it doesn't matter. I get serious about girls I have no chance with." I moved a hand through my hair, aggravated.

"No chance with? Dude, do you hear yourself?" Chad seemed almost outraged at my comment. "Have you seen the way that girls bow down to you at East High? I mean, you could get any girl, and you're saying that you have no chance with Gabriella. . ." He shook his head. "Don't even say that, every time I tried to get a date with her, every time Zeke flirted with her, she'd always look at you."

I met his eyes, shocked, "Are you joking me? She was sitting on your lap. . ."

"She asked you to hang out right afterward," Chad countered, "and she's always put you before all of us."

"Yeah, because I act like I don't care, when I care more than anything." I grumbled, kicking a rock, absentmindedly. "I really don't think she likes me, Chad, I think I'm literally playing with fire. And I'm still confused on how you're over all of this . . . so quickly."

"I hung out with Tay this weekend," Chad answered, thoughtfully, "I realized a lot of things. I mostly realized that despite everything, you're still my bro. I mean, we've known each others since we were kids. It's idiotic for me to start a fight over someone who belongs with you. I mean, I can see it, dude, you and Gabriella."

"How do you see it? I see it too, maybe in my dreams, but Chad, what am I supposed to do, I mean, what do I do?" I sounded so desperate, it made me sick.

"I feel like I belong with Tay, you know," He avoided my question, "when we're together, it just fits, and I feel so happy, man. I mean, I get anxious when I'm away from her, and it's like, she makes me a better man. . ." He sighed, heavily. "I feel so carefree, like I could tell her anything. I know she's the one . . . it's stupid I'd ever make a big deal when my heart isn't even there, it's with Tay . . . always has been." He looked back to me. "It's the ideal couple, right? And with you and Gabriella, I can just visualize it."

"You love Taylor?" I asked, almost surprised by his confessions.

"Yeah, love, maybe, if that's the right word," He breathed sharply, "it just feels good . . . you know, it feels right, like some kind of completion, like I'm whole, the right puzzle piece. . ." He laughed, distractedly. "I sound like a moron, but man, it's true. And I hate that I acted like Gabriella was important, because she's gotta be more important to you, I mean, Zeke's been telling me that Sharpay goes on about how you and Gabriella are like fire and ice," He grinned, "how you guys fought but then made up . . . and it's obvious that you both want each other, but you're so . . . stubborn."

I scratched the back of my head, ". . . I kissed her. . . I mean, like, literally, not half-way . . . but all the way, made out."

Chad gaped at me, disbelievingly, "Really? Dude, was it good?"

I let out a sigh, a good, long sigh, "Yeah, it was amazing, probably more than amazing . . . and I mean she kind of gave me a blow job."

"Kind of? Man, that's great! Was that good?"

"Good? Man that was the best I've ever had. Every time I'm around her, I can barely control myself, it's ridiculous . . . and it's not like what you think, I mean, just thinking about her, I get all anxious and, I mean. . . man, I get these erections, and it's horrible, I don't know what to do. . . she caught me once. . ."

Chad was laughing, "She caught you? Dude, that's so embarrassing."

"Yeah, but I mean, basketball shorts . . . never do the job right."

"No way! That's the worst . . . especially during a game." He supported, cringing.

"You got one during a game? That had to of been rough . . . but, I get one every time I think about her, practically, when I'm next to her, or when she touches me. . . I mean, is that bad? And I get these butterflies man. . ." It was usual, Chad and I exchanging information about our love lives. I mean, we were cool, I could tell. And every problem seemed to have disappeared.

"Butterflies? Dude, you're joking, right? You are whipped," Chad pushed out the word like a curse, "seriously, Bolton. She has you wrapped around your finger."

Yeah, that was for sure.

She had me wrapped around her finger.

END OF CHAPTER

REVIEW. Sorry not much happened. You can't expect constant action every chapter, now can you? But hey, Chad and Troy made up, and you've seen Troy's insight of a lot of things. . . plus his nice little dreams. I love playing with him in this, he's so innocent and naïve. It's awesome. :P . Love, Whitney.