A/N: Because of the reviews, I have been adding a lot more material than what I had initially anticipated. There were many things that I originally skimmed by, but now I want to spend more time addressing because people are expressing interest, concern, and/or excitement. Most of these things could be added as the story progresses, but I've run into one issue that I must add to a previous chapter instead of the next ones. Therefore, there is a new scene in Chapter 14 (Me Too) where Maria takes Gabriella to the hospital for STD testing and a medical exam before school. You don't need to go back and reread it if you don't want to because they don't actually receive the results from it until this chapter.


Where Courage Ignites

16. Carbon Monoxide

February 1st, 2018

Taylor and I sat at our usual spot at the table during lunch, skimming over pages of scholastic decathlon preparation plans and schedules. She said, "We have to be certain that we have enough time allotted for titration problems during our last practice before regionals."

I said, "What if we dedicate that last ten minutes to every practice leading up to regionals for titration problems? That way we won't have to cram it all in at the end and we'll all gradually build up our skills."

"Yes! You're a genius!"

Taylor scribbled some notes in the margins when I happened to look up and find the others around the table staring at something – or someone – behind us. I slowly turned my head towards where their eyes pointed and found Martha. I nudged Taylor, who just said, "Hold on." I poked her again and she looked at me, then around to Martha.

"Hi," Martha said.

"Hi Martha," Taylor said. "What's up?"

She shifted her weight before speaking. "I wanted to know how practice was going."

"It's going well."

"I see." She nodded and looked away while saying, "Look, I know I wasn't as welcoming to Gabriella as I should have been. And Gabriella," she looked at me, "I'm so sorry. I came over today to ask if there was still a spot for me."

Taylor and I looked at each other for a moment, then Taylor said to her, "Of course there's room. I hope you're free on Tuesdays after school because that's when we decided to meet."

"Can't wait!" Martha smiled. "Thank you."

I offered, "Do you want to sit with us? We were just talking about practice. I have notes from the previous meetings. Put your stuff down. Let's get you caught up."

She pushed her backpack underneath the table and sat on the stool next to me. "I never stopped studying."

"Were those titrations too irresistible?"

She laughed and said, "I'm obsessed with them! I bet you picked up on them fast."

"I see everything in the shade of phenolphthalein indicator now."

"Oh God, I know. Even my dreams are tinted pink."

Around ten minutes into a book discussion in my British Literature class, an aide pulled me from class and escorted me to Mr. Reynold's office. He stood behind his desk with the speakerphone positioned in the center of the large slab of glossy wood. He said, "We're all here now."

"Hello Gabriella," the voice I recognized as our lawyer said.

"Hi. What's going on?"

"They have made a decision."

Mom asked from their end, "What's going to happen?"

Our lawyer explained, "Due to insufficient evidence in the reports filed against him, the prosecutor cannot press charges."

Dad's voice broke as he repeated, "Not pressing charges?"

I asked, "So they didn't believe me?"

Mom answered, "They thought there wasn't enough proof of it happening, not necessarily that you made it all up."

"Is he coming back to East High?"

The lawyer answered, "That would depend on the school. If they decide to expel him, he cannot return."

Mr. Reynolds said, "Superintendent Patricia Smith has been asking for my recommendation and as Gabriella's advocate, I have made it abundantly clear there are repercussions for reintroducing a perpetrator to his victims. Superintendent Smith is looking out for Gabriella and the other girls' best interest. I can almost guarantee that Anthony will be expelled."

"Alright," I sighed and Mr. Reynolds shot me a concerned glance. My parents asked if I wanted to be taken out of school for the rest of the day, but I declined. Maybe I hadn't processed it yet, but I was completely unfazed. Carbon monoxide is a sneaky gas. You can't smell it. You can't see it. You won't even know it's there at first. But if you stay in it long enough, it will kill you. Slowly being poisoned by an odorless, invisible gas was how I felt as the day dragged. I started to feel a tinge of sadness after returning to Literature class, but ignored it and pressed on. I pushed it to the back of my mind while taking notes in history class, but it forced itself back into the forefront of my mind, bumping Napoleon Bonaparte completely out of the picture. I excused myself to the restroom, rushing through the hallways in an attempt to shake off the toxic fumes. The cloud of poisonous gas became too dense to breathe through, and I knew I needed some fresh air.

I found the science hallway and tried the handle, but it was stuck. I pulled it up and down out of frustration before landing one loud smack onto the metal door and walking away in defeat. I was just a few steps away when I heard it open. I turned around to see Troy holding it cracked open.

I said, "I didn't know you'd be out here." I walked out and he let the door shut behind us.

He turned to walk up the stairs and said curtly, "Well, I am."

I caught up to him and asked, "And why is that?"

"I told you." He took a seat on the bench. "I come up here when I'm stressed."

"What's stressing you out?" I sat down next to him, the overgrown bush tickling my arm.

Troy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "I don't really want to talk about it. I hope you understand."

"I do," I said. I plucked one of the green leaves from the bush and tracing its veins with my eyes while I listened to Troy's breathing.

"Why did you come up here?"

I looked out across the garden to a pot of purple and white flowers in thought. "I felt this overwhelming sadness. I tried to ignore it, but that didn't work. I decided I needed some fresh air."

Troy slowly nodded his head, and then asked, "Were you thinking about what happened when you became sad?"

"No. Not consciously, at least."

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

We were sitting there quietly when he suddenly spat out, "My parents hate each other." He paused, letting the words hang in the air before expanding, "There's so much yelling and arguing at home. It's an awful place. The animosity and tension in the air is so thick; it gets hard to breathe."

"I understand that feeling entirely."

"What's more messed up is that I almost wish they would divorce. They'd both be happier with other people."

"Have you thought about telling either of them what you think?"

He shook his head. "They wouldn't appreciate that. I'd probably just get lectured for saying it. Divorce is not an option. They're too proud for that."

"You think staying married comes from a source of pride?"

"Staying in a failed marriage, yes. My parents would rather keep a stale, decade-old promise and be miserable if it means don't have to admit they made a mistake."

"I'm sorry, Troy."

He looked at me and sent a weak smile, and then faced the beautiful landscape across from us again. As we gazed out at the mountains in the distance, I allowed my heavy head to lean over until it rested atop Troy's shoulder.


February 2nd, 2018

Taylor and I walked arm in arm while navigating through the sea of students and parents entering the crammed gymnasium. We walked into the crowd of red and white and found seats in the top row of the bleachers. I felt my shoes peel off the old spilled pop on the floor as I shuffled in front of the other fans. I brushed off some old, stale popcorn from the flat bleacher surface and hesitantly sat down. "Why do people go to these games?" I yelled over to Taylor, earning me a dirty look from the girl sitting in front of us.

Taylor yelled back over the ruckus, "Some people find it exciting. They come for the adrenaline." She pointed to the entrance of the gym. "Look! Here they come!"

The team sprinted onto the court and began taking practice shots while the other team stripped their sweats and began shooting on their side. The cheerleaders lining the threshold between the court and the stands began leading chants of, "W! I! L! D! Wildcats!" We clapped and cheered along until the referee gathered the teams. Two players stood in the center of the court while the rest of the players circled around them. The crowd was silent for the single moment after the referee tossed the ball up and it was airborne. When the blue player knocked it out of the circle and a wildcat intercepted it, the crowd erupted with cheers again.

I asked, "How long is this going to take?"

"Gabriella," Taylor laughed. "We'll be here awhile. Just try to enjoy it."

"Alright. I'll try." I watched as our team carried a slight lead into the second half, until the scores barely one-upped the other back and forth. By the time there was only a minute left on the clock, both teams were glistening with sweat and breathing heavily as they fought on to the last second. A Wildcat stole the ball after it bounced off the rim and threw it back to Troy at the half-court line. Troy hurled the ball towards our basket and just as the final buzzer sounded, the ball went swish through the net.

Everyone erupted in applause and cheers and I yelled out, "Go Troy!"

"Gabriella," Taylor spoke into my ear. "Do you still like him?"

I asked, "Troy?"

She nodded.

I stayed quiet for a moment in thought, my eyes finding him in the center of the sea of red being hoisted into the air by his teammates. "I don't think so," I said.

"Yeah," she nodded.

I explained, "I don't have any romantic feelings right now." I looked behind me for my purse on the seat when I caught her solemn expression. "Don't be sad for me. It's okay. It is what it is."

"Yeah, I really wanted you guys to get together is all. You'd make the cutest couple."

"I couldn't imagine dating right now."

"The desire for it will come back, I'm sure," she reassured me.

I said, "I'm in no rush. Are you ready to head out?"

"Sure," she responded and we descended the bleachers.

"Hold on. I want to congratulate him."

"Okay." She walked next to me as we stepped onto the court.

Through all the teammates and parents talking to him and patting him on the back, he still saw me. I gave him a little wave and he jogged over. "You guys made it! Thank you so much for coming. What did you think?"

"It was exciting," I said.

"Not quite as thrilling as a scholastic decathlon, I'm sure."

"I don't know yet. I've only been to the practices."

"When is your next competition?"

Taylor answered, "The first of March."

"I'll be there."

I said, "Troy, that's okay. You don't have to come."

"I want to. You supported us, it's only right. Chad and I will be there."

I glanced at Taylor, then back at Troy. "Okay," I smiled. "Thank you."

After mom dropped Taylor off and we arrived home, she brought me into the study and sifted through her files. She turned back towards me and exposed a sealed envelope. I read the front of the mail and saw the hospital's blue logo on the upper left side. I slid my index finger between the pages to tear it open and took out the results. I already knew from the appointment that I wasn't pregnant, but the STD testing took longer. They said that if I had caught anything, they'd call to schedule treatment. Either way, they'd send the results in the mail. Since we hadn't received any calls from them, I was hopeful that I was clean. I read the papers:


Chlamydia…negative (You do not have chlamydia.)

Gonorrhea…negative (You do not have gonorrhea.)

Human immunodeficiency virus [HIV]…negative (You do not have HIV.)

Hepatitis B…negative (You do not have hepatitis B.)

Hepatitis C…negative (You do not have hepatitis C.)

Bacterial vaginosis…negative (You do not have bacterial vaginosis.)

Syphilis…negative (You do not have syphilis.)

Trichomoniasis…negative (You do not have trichomoniasis.)


I looked up at my mom and smiled, "It's good news. It's all good."

"Thank god," she said, stepping towards me and wrapping her arms around me.


A/N: Without getting too in depth with legal jargon and the American criminal court system, I wanted to briefly explain why the case wasn't strong enough. When they said that there wasn't enough evidence, they were referencing the DNA evidence that was lost when Gabriella showered and had the clothes washed. She didn't let the doctor examine her or use a rape kit the next day in the hospital. The photos from the hospital (and the photos she took) indicate rape, but that wouldn't be enough to prove it was caused by Anthony specifically. According to the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network, only 13 out of every 1000 instances of rape "get referred to a prosecutor and only 7 cases will lead to a felony conviction". Although Anthony will not be serving time, the Montez family could take him to civil court. We still have yet to see the school's decision about Anthony's possible expulsion and whether or not Gabriella tells anyone else about what Mr. and Mrs. Brannigan did.

The seventeenth chapter will be out on Saturday, June 2nd.