AN: Special thanks to all who reviewed. Next chapter will pick up on the details of the road trip. For now, this is simply an intro.
Two plus two, I'm gon' undress you
Then we're gonna go three and three
You gon' undress me
Then we're gonna go four and four
We gon' freak some more!
"Aye ayee aye!" Chad Danforth hollered during the process of being lifted by ten of his basketball buddies, who hoisted him up on their shoulders as Chad fist-pumped in the air. He winked at a nearby cheerleader who was currently grinding her ass into the crotch of some random party-crasher, leaning against the wall. The blonde cheerleader returned the wink and joined the whooping and hollering as a pack of teenagers passed the Bacardi bottle around the circle. Both Chad and Troy were completely wasted and lost touch with reality a long, long time ago.
"THIS PARTY'S THE SHIT!" Chad screamed, falling backwards as a crowd formed around him. Continually pumping his fist in the air, he continued to sing along to the vulgar Pitbull lyrics as he crowd-surfed across Zeke Baylor's backyard. The last person on the edge threw Chad's body into the Baylor pool amidst the crowd laughter.
"If you're not drunk ladies and gentlemen, get ready to get fucked up!" The DJ spoke through his mic as the song ended. The crowd cheered at the sound of the familiar club music. Troy Bolton abandoned several scantily-clothed cheerleaders who kept latching onto him and drunkenly staggered over towards where Chad resurfaced from the water and climbed out of the pool, grinning.
"Trooy," Chad moaned, his sight all blurry and his demeanor indicated he was completely trashed. "Is that you?"
"Chad!" He exclaimed, bumping shoulders with Chad. "Chaad! Zeke's over there cockblocking two squirrels. Chaad, we should join him!"
"Whaaat!?" Chad screamed over the loud music. "I can't hear you!"
If you ain't getting drunk get the fuck out the club
If you ain't takin shots get the fuck out the club
If you ain't come to party get the fuck out the club
Now where my alcoholics let me see ya hands up
what you drinkin on?
Loud laughter was heard among the blasting music as Taylor and Chad turned towards the source of the noise, only to see the one and only Jason Cross, locked in a dog kennel with a Viking helmet.
Chad scratched his forehead in confusion. "Is that Jase? What the hell is he doing in a cage?"
"It was for his own good!" A partier next to Chad who claimed his name was Optimus Prime remarked, clapping his hands in delight.
"Yo, Opty Woppity, get that dumb fuck outta the kennel! He's the one who make them mimosa shots!"
Optimus Prime laughed deliriously at the sight of Jason drunkenly groping for a way to release himself from the cage.
Troy tilted his head in confusion as he held onto Chad's shoulder to keep himself from falling over. "Whoa, where the hell did they find a dog kennel?"
"There's some things ya don't wanna know, Troy," shouted Chad over the blaring music as a Ke$ha-wannabee arrived, claiming the party really didn't start until she came in.
Troy squinted his eyes in a failed attempt to focus his eyes upon the scene. Albeit the heavy amount of alcohol he consumed tonight, his gut feeling warned him that he was forgetting something.
His eyes widened at the realization that he hasn't seen Gabriella all night.
"Chad!" Troy turned to his best friend. "Have you seen Taylor or Gabriella?"
"Who?" Chad screamed deliriously above the music, his eyes glued to the Kesha-wannabee attempt to maneuver across the lawn with a flamethrower while singing along to the lyrics of 'Take it Off'. Chad chuckled, his head shaking. "Holy fuck, man. Zeke's gonna be tight if that girl sets his house on fire."
Troy sighed heavily, rubbing his temple with his right hand in an effort to remember if he had even caught sight of either Taylor or Gabriella. They both promised they would be here, but with all the booze and music, he completely lost track of time and his right state of mind.
"Crap," Troy finally let out. "I promised her we'd hang out tonight. Shit, Chad!" Troy's hands flew to Chad's shoulders, shaking him in order to gain his attention. "Chad, you need to tell me if you've seen Gabriella or Taylor."
Looking disoriented, Chad pointed to the large flame accompanied with many shrieks from the crowd.
Troy's eyes bulged at the sight. "Whoa, man. Now that's a fire hazard."
"No shit," replied Chad. His brown eyes narrowed when he spotted a familiar dark-skinned girl, whose arm was wrapped around a burly Football player.
"The fuck is she doing...?" Chad muttered under his breath, his jealous eyes casting a glance upon Taylor before nudging Troy with his elbow, "Look!"
Troy wasted no time, speedily staggering over towards Taylor before crashing into her then steadying himself by grabbing onto her shoulder. "Taylor, where's Gabriella?"
Taken aback by the unexpected collision, she narrowed her eyes once she registered the boy's face. "Well, well, look who finally decides to show. Good job getting wasted before 8 P.M., you moron."
"Taylor," Troy complained, his eyes revealing his desperate state. "Just tell me where she is."
"Why should I bother? You completely blew off whatever plans you had with her by getting drunk before we even arrived," Taylor snapped at him, crossing her arms upon her chest. "In fact, we were both planning on leaving soon. This party is full of utter neanderthals-" Taylor turned her glance toward the Football player, flashing him a smile with her pearly whites, "...no offense."
The moronic Football player kept grinning, not knowing the meaning of the word.
Switching her gaze toward the party scene, Taylor continued with her tirade. "And considering that crazy drunken whore has a fucking flamethrower in her hands, my bet is that the police will show up within half an hour and break up this fest. Hell, the neighbors are probably filing a complaint right now-"
"Taylor," Troy gritted his teeth, cutting her off. "I asked you where the hell Gabriella is and you have yet to answer my question."
Taylor shrugged her shoulders. "She said she needed to go use the bathroom an hour ago after she saw you and Chad having a fantastic time taking body shots off a couple of cheerleaders."
Troy's eyes widened, his breath hitched, and suddenly the memory of the past two hours rushed back into his mind. Cursing under his breath, he scolded himself. "I completely fucked everything up," he thought to himself aloud.
Taylor smirked in satisfaction, her hand on her hip. "Yes, Troy. Yes you did. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She trailed off, her body turning towards the football player, "Javier, how'd you like to come over to my house and help me memorize vector functions?"
The foot-ball player grinned and eagerly nodded his head, thinking that this was a codeword for sex even though Taylor was being very literal.
Taylor smiled contently. "Perfect!"
Troy sighed longingly as he walked out of the Baylor backyard and towards the front of the house where he spotted a lone figure sitting on the steps of the porch. Boisterous laughter and the sound of splashing as countless teenagers swam and played chicken rang out as echoes to Troy's ears. Clasping onto a water bottle, Troy chugged the Poland Spring bottle to help get rid of the alcohol in his blood and sober up as quickly as possible. As he walked, his eyes were glued to the brunette who sat there drearily, writing something on the dirt with a single wooden branch in her hand. His eyes scanned her perfect curls framed across her heart-shaped face and the floral-patterned dress that reached mid-thigh and accentuated her toned legs that seemed to go on for days. He caught a glimpse of a swimsuit beneath the dress that he never got a chance to admire because of his stupidity. Fuck his life.
As he approached her, she looked up to stare at his electric blue eyes. Her own brown eyes instantly widened and her sandal-clad right foot reached across to the dirt and erased her writing in the dirt from his eyes.
"Hey," said Troy, "Mind if I sit down?"
Looking away from his gaze, she carelessly shrugged her shoulders and shifted to the right to give him space to sit down on the step on her left.
"Gabi, I'm so, so-"
"Save it," She whispered lowly.
He blinked, shocked. "-sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," Gabriella mumbled, scooting further away from him as her foot rubbed against the ground in a continuous effort to wipe away the words she drew longingly with the stick.
"I-I don't how this happened. I b-barely remember drink-drinking that mu-much," slurred Troy, bringing his water bottle to his lips.
Gabriella remained silent, gathering her thoughts for a moment before mumbling and avoiding his eyes. "You wanted to have fun with your friends, get wasted, and hook up with a couple of cheerleaders. I get it Troy."
"No," Troy cut in. "No, Gabriella, you really don't g-get it. I was - I was so psyched to hang out with you at the pa-party. I didn't fucking mean for this to happen. I don't know how the fuck I got drunk that fast, but I swear to God, you have no idea how sorry I am for bailing on you. And-and the body shots. Th-that was part of our game. I-I had to-"
She finally turned to look him in the eye. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Troy. Really, it's not a big deal," She lied, avoiding his gaze once again. "You can go hang out with Avery or whatever... that girl you were partnered up with in the drinking game. Really, go back to the party and enjoy yourself. I'm just going to head home and review some Calc notes for my final tomorrow."
With that, she stood up and off the porch, heading out onto the sidewalk.
"Gabi-" Troy called out, wanting so desperately to get up and follow after her - at the very least, walk her home - but knowing that he wouldn't be able to do so without staggering and falling to the ground.
She ignored his plea and stared straight ahead, the cloudy eyes blocking her vision as she began her long walk home but not before a single tear poured down across her face, smearing her eyeliner and mascara.
A minute later, Troy made an effort to stand up and follow her direction. He didn't get far, however, for he soon began to feel the pain of a terrible migraine and dizziness. Moaning in pain, he fell back onto the steps, ducking his head in between his legs. His eyes closed briefly as his sporadic breathing returned to normal. When his eyes fluttered open, he caught sight of the words Gabriella so desperately tried to shield from his view and his stomach instantly pained at the sight.
T+G= heart
Four hours later, Chad stood on his knees, barfing into some random toilet that he did not recognize.
"WAHH! I THOUGHT THINGS WOULD BE BETTER NOW THAT BARACK OBAMA'S PRESIDENT!"
AN: Hope the last line lightened it up a bit. Reviews would be lovely. :)