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Where Courage Ignites
7. Boys
January 11th, 2018
"Gabriella!" A voice whispered in my ear.
My body jerked awake at the sudden disturbance. My eyelids sprung open and I gasped. "What?" I called back.
"Come." My mother stood at my windows, pulling the glowing curtains apart before approaching my mirror.
I slowly crawled out from underneath my sheets and crossed the room to join her. "What is it?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Here," she offered out her make up box to me. "Put it on the floor outside my door when you're done and wait for me in the car."
I held the heavy wicker box close to my chest, "Thanks."
"You'll need to buy yourself some of your own eventually," she said before disappearing into the hallway.
I groaned at the thought, but dropped down to the floor in front of my mirror and began putting it on nevertheless. I followed the rest of her instructions and not too long afterwards, we were on the ride to school.
"So," my mother began, twisting the knob on the radio's volume to turn it down. "Do you have any plans with friends this weekend?"
I looked over at her blankly. "No. Am I supposed to make plans with them?"
She hummed a soft laugh, "Sure! That's one thing friends are good for."
"Well, what would we do?"
"You could go shopping together, go see a movie. I can give you some money if you need it."
"Thanks," I said sincerely, admittedly surprised at her generosity.
"You'll have to babysit Isabella a few times to pay it back." Well, never mind then. "Don't worry about that." Putting the car into park, she laid her eyes on me. "Focus on your schoolwork."
"Alright," I groaned.
"Hey, I love you!"
"I love you, too." I shut the door behind me.
I began heading towards the row of doors into the building when I heard someone call my name. I recognized the voice as Taylor's and glanced towards that direction, immediately spotting her and the rest of the scholastic decathlon team trailing behind her.
"We're thinking about meeting up next Tuesday after school in Miss. Langdon's room. Will that work for you?"
"Yeah, I'll just have to move some stuff around, but that'll work find for me," I nodded.
"Great!" She smiled, relieved. "We'll see you at lunch then."
"Of course!" I said and we meandered inside the school with the others.
…
Mrs. Darbus and Mr. Brannigan were both their predictable selves, the former putting me to sleep with a lecture and the latter singling me out to look at my homework. If there's any silver lining in the dark, dreary day that Mr. Brannigan relentlessly overcasts, it's that I'm no longer alone when he points his suspicious eyes in my direction. I always have Troy there next to me for moral support.
Nachos weren't available at lunch today, so Taylor veered me towards their chicken melts and French fries. We sat together at our habitual spots along with everyone else, but the one empty seat occupied far too much space in my mind. Was I right to step into the team like I did? Should I offer Martha a spot back? It's not like we couldn't all fit. It was hard to know if I had really wronged her the way she seemed to think I did. My thoughts kept bringing me back to her until I noticed Taylor seemed especially distracted by something off in the distance. I followed her line of sight to a table of jocks, and Troy.
"Who are you looking at?" I asked her.
"Nobody." She quickly redirected her attention back to her unopened box of milk, fidgeting with the seal.
"Do you…" I trailed off, nervous to voice my hunch that she likes Troy, too.
"I…" Taylor tilted her head down secretively as she spoke, "I know you saw."
"Hmm?"
"I know you saw where I was looking. Who I was looking at, rather."
"You're right." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I know."
Taylor stared at me nervously for a moment before melting, "he's just so cute!"
She squealed and I couldn't help but smile at the thought of him, "I know!" I cooed; looking in his direction and watching him talk animatedly with his friends, all sporting the same white and red varsity jacket. My eyes traced along its collar and buttons, wondering how it'd fit on me. I imagined how it would feel swimming in that oversized jacket with the name BOLTON on my back.
"And his jawline is so sharp," Taylor mentioned.
"Mm hmm," I swooned. "And his eyes."
"Don't even get me started, girl."
"They're absolutely mesmerizing."
"Can we please talk about his hair? It's so fluffy."
"Really?" I cocked my head to the side and studied his somewhat shaggy locks. "I don't know if I'd call it that."
"Are you joking? Look at it!"
"I am…Wait, are we talking about the same person?"
"Who are you talking about?"
"Troy Bolton."
Taylor erupted in a laugh I couldn't imagine she could produce, "Gabriella," she gasped. "I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about Chad Danforth."
"Who?"
"Troy's best friend."
"Oh thank god!" I laughed my worry away. "Here I was thinking we'd have to fight over a guy."
"Same!" Her laughter started simmering down. "I was trying so hard to relate to you about how cute he is like I didn't have a problem with it, but good lord would I!" She held her hand over her abdomen and sighed.
"So you like Chad, hmm?"
"Yes, but…" Taylor shook her head; "This is going to sound so pathetic."
"It's okay," I said, placing my hand on her arm. "I won't think you're pathetic. I promise."
"It's just…" She dropped her gaze to her hands in her lap. "We've never spoken to each other."
"Oh, well, that's okay," I reassured her.
She scoffed disbelievingly, "Really?"
"Of course! You can't control your feelings for someone when you like them, you know? So what that you've never talked? So what that he might not know your name? You still like him, so what?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"You have to give yourself permission to like him. Why bother resisting when it can't change your feelings anyways? Don't be ashamed, embrace!"
"You're right," she smiled. "Thanks, Gabriella."
…
I held my backpack straps on either side of my chest as I trekked the steep parking lot towards the bus stop, the overcast sky above and fog thick in the air around me. "Hey!" A voice called after me. I spun around and was slightly taken back to see Anthony jogging up to me, "Gabriella!" He breathed heavily, and I wondered how long far he had been trying to get my attention, "What's your last name?"
"Montez." I answered, "Um, what's yours?" I asked awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.
"Brannigan," He said.
"Oh," my eyebrows furrowed as I wondered if he was related to Mr. Brannigan.
"And yes, my dad is the biology teacher and my mom is the counselor."
"I have your dad for bio, but I didn't know your mom works here."
"Yeah, she has for the last five years. My dad used to work in a different district until he got hired on here last semester."
"Oh," I nodded. "Neat."
"Yeah, I'm sure you didn't see that coming since I look so damn Asian. My dad's white, but if you saw my mom you'd understand. She's a full blown C-H-I-N-K."
"What did you just say?" I said, shocked to hear such racist language.
"What? I'm Asian, I can use it."
My brain computed no response to his logic. I was too uncomfortable after hearing the word to seriously consider his stance on its usage. I nervously glanced around the parking lot, looking for a route between cars to sprint away from him.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Look, I wanted to invite you to a party this Saturday. My friend's parents will be out of town so we're throwing a little get together. Here's the address." He extended a water-damaged flashcard with an address on it to me.
I stared at the piece of paper in conflict, not at all wanting to attend his party, but also not wanting to provoke him.
"Just take it," Anthony stepped around me and grabbed for my backpack. I felt him unzip it and shove the card into one of the pockets. "Come if you can. I'd like to see you there." He shoved his hands into his tight skinny jeans and ran away.
I watched him as he rejoined his group of skaters all dressed in similar attire, and wondered what about me led him to believe that I'd possibly attend a party with him and his friends. I was just some nerdy, awkward girl. He was a sk8rboi. Who am I kidding? We don't live in an Avril Lavigne song. It just didn't make sense. Something felt off.
…
After removing my makeup before my father got home, I watched from behind the tarp again, my knee resting on a bare bench-like surface up against the window. It was four o'clock sharp when the punctual sky blue pick up try rolled into the driveway. I stood in place of the front door as he descended from the big truck and flung his backpack over his muscular shoulder. He manually locked his car door and walked up to meet me wearing his usual, friendly smile.
I guided Troy through the house while my parents greeted him, my mom from the kitchen and my dad from the den. We quickly set up in the study and got down to business much like the evening before. He had dinner with us again, but it was far less tense now that my parents had warmed up to him. We were at the last few problems when we heard my mother call my name.
"I should probably see what that's about," I excused myself.
"Sure, it's probably good that I work on these problems alone so my wrong answers will be different from yours," Troy joked.
I sent him an empathetic smile and departed for the kitchen.
"Dry the dishes," my mother ordered, tossing me a rag from her spot reading a magazine at the island.
"This couldn't wait?" I huffed, picking up the small, clean salad plates and wiping the water particles from it.
"Nope," she said, popping the last consonant on her lips.
"Whatever you say," I said. I was on the last few pans when someone else entered the room – Troy, with his backpack on and homework in his hand.
"Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Montez," He said.
"Of course, Troy. As I said, you're welcome over anytime."
"My family should host Gabi sometime. I'm sure they'd love to have her," he said, smiling down at me.
"That's a nice thought," my mother agreed. She closed her magazine and took it and her last cup of tea into the den.
"I can walk you out," I offered, wiping my hands off on the towel and folding it over the oven's handle. I led him through the house and onto our stoop.
He turned towards me, crumpling up a paper his hands as he grabbed onto his backpack straps. "Oh!" He suddenly looked towards the papers. "Did you want to look over my last problems? Make sure they're wrong enough and whatnot?"
I giggled, "Sure." I took the pages from him and took a few moments to glance over the problems, squinting to see them better with just the dim porch light illuminating the space. "Troy," I said. "These are all right."
"What?" He came to my side to look at them, too. "Are you serious?"
"Yes! They're all correct!"
"That's awesome! Thank you!" He smiled, and then unexpectedly brought his arms around me in an embrace. It took a moment to register that we were hugging before my body reacted, my arm snaking in the gap between his backpack and his lower back. He soon let his arms fall back to his sides and stepped apart. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gabby. Have a good night." With that, he left.
I went inside and closed the door behind me, locked it, and leaned against it for support as I slowly slid down to the ground. There on my foyer floor, I cupped rose-colored cheeks and squealed.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! What do you think of Gabriella accepting her feelings for Troy? Do you think there's potential for Taylor to get with Chad?
