I forgot how much I enjoyed writing this story and I apologize for the large gaps in between updates. I figured I'd start off with a recap.

You be the Anchor (Thus far)

The story begins with Troy and the rest of the gang heading into the second semester of senior year after winter break. Sharpay meets Gabriella and she immediately becomes a new addition to their group of friends. Troy and Gabriella slowly begin to discover each other, sharing something between them that no one can quite figure out. However, Troy has feelings for an online blogger who he is convinced lives among him, attending the same high school as him and going to the same places as he does. He has never pursued finding her though and is temporarily distracted by these new feelings he has towards Gabriella, the basketball playoffs and upcoming final senior projects as mentioned in the last chapter.

The short excerpts at the end of every chapter do hold significance and so do the dates, since they are written prior to the story.

That's all I am going to say, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

"So help me decide, help me to make up-make up my mind. Wouldn't that save you?"

Save You, Matthew Perryman Jones

He was like a scratched disk.

From the first look, he appeared to be completely fine and functional. Most would assume that the disk was fully stocked with a playlist of songs, lyrics that could define the soul of Troy- the soul that he kept so hidden from the rest of the world. But sometimes if a disk were to be flipped over to analyze the other side, taking a closer look, there would be more scratches and impairments than one could even count. One side could seem perfect to those who viewed the disk but it took someone determined to find out that there really were problems in existence.

Even though the disk looked half good and and half decent, the fact that it was broken could not be denied. Just flip it over and take in the scars.

It did not take a rocket scientist or a psychiatrist, for that matter, to see that Troy Bolton was in fact broken. Gabriella had known from the beginnning that Troy was not like other happy-go-lucky teenagers. She knew he was not the kind of teenager whose only worries consisted of which party he should attend this weekend, who is going to supply the alcohol and what will his excuse be for their parents. Troy was different; he relied solely on his music and isolating himself to get through his days. Though she was positive that Troy's mind did not work in this way, she still did not know the way in which it did. But she wanted to, badly. With everything in her, Gabriella found the need to understand what it was that worried and broke him down.

She sighed, her gaze focused mainly on the fogged window belonging to the passanger seat. The pink leather interior of the car and altogether overload of pink, were no longer blinding to her eyesight. Gabriella had originally felt as though she were five again when she had first stepped inside of Sharpay's pink convertible that closely resembled the Barbie jeep that she would drive up and down her driveway. Their final destination was a local pizzeria, one that Gabriella had been to many times, for a victory dinner in celebration.

Though she was less than five feet away from her blonde friend, Gabriella felt a million miles away, her mind working quicker with each passing second, thought after thought pouring into her mind.

Comfort. It had always been a word that was lingering in the back of her mind. Immediately thoughts of her childhood with father rushing to her side to nurse her scraped knees flooded her mind. If Webster's dictionary could only define words in one picture, that would be the picture that they would have used. She was almost sure of it. She was also sure that comfort was exactly what Troy needed.

He needed someone to cut through the bullshit, the mask that he put up. Troy needed someone to tell him that they knew, no matter how much he denied it, that something was not right. Just as much as anyone else does, he needed someone and the feeling of being needed. And she was willing to be that someone. But she was nowhere near ready to admit that to anyone. It was simple; she did not understand the magnetic attraction that she felt whenever in the presence of Troy. She was drawn to him, she had been from the start. But she had not once ever gotten a sign that remotely indicated that Troy might have felt the same way about her.

Maybe she really did not like him in that way. Some days when she had nothing else to do at home and she saw a mess, she would clean it up. Once in the cleaning mood, she would not stop until the whole house was completely spotless and immaculate. So she figured that maybe this was the same thing. Gabriella saw a mess and now she had to clean it up, whether Troy liked it or not.

He called it prying, but she called it caring.

From past experiences, she had learned that talking about a problem does help. She had been in his position. Two years ago, she had been the most defiant teenager that she had ever known. Gabriella would purposely act out, just for the pleasure that she had done wrong and gotten away with it. Eventually, the results of her acting out had led to a large downward slope in her grades and that simply was not her. It wasn't until she was finally forced to sit down and discuss her problems that they slowly began to be resolved. Now that it was two years later, she had found other outlets other than rebelling. With straight A's in school and fresh new start at a different school, Gabriella knew that there was no denying that she had a bright future. And she knew that Troy did as well, however he needed someone to take his hand to the fogged glass to reveal what lie on the other side.

After they had pulled into the fairly packed parking lot, Gabriella drew in a long and deep breath before pressing her hand against the door, allowing her entrance into the crowded pizzeria. She could make out a few familiar faces scattered throughout the restaurant in booths but Troy was the first who had returned the eye contact, his body stiffening as the two reenacted the moment that they had shared earlier that night on the basketball court.

Troy believed he was in love. From the first words he read, he was entranced by someone he had never even met. He wanted to pursue this girl whose writing he lived by, but he could not help himself from being temporarily distracted by the sight in front of him. So what, he figured. Would it really be so wrong to allow himself to have a little bit of fun in the time being? There was something there. Pushing up from the booth he was sitting in with Chad, he made a beeline towards her, never once blinking to break the contact.

Sharpay, who had arrived with Gabriella, immediately felt like an intruder. It was difficult not to feel like this whenever Troy and Gabriella surrounded her or anyone else, for that matter. She side stepped around Gabriella, practically prancing to the awaiting booth, sliding in beside Chad easily, popping a few french fries into her mouth as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her as if it were a film. She nudged Chad excitedly but he was too busy greedily stuffing his face to care.

"Hey," Troy greeted with his voice low once he was within a proper distance. "How are you feeling?" He asked, referring to her small step back outside of the gymnasium after the playoff game.

Gabriella took in another sharp intake of breath, the look of concern on his face almost overwhelming to her. "Better," she answered honestly.

He nodded, his hand traveling down the length of her arm until he reached her own hand, their fingers tangling together almost instantly. Gabriella momentarily looked stunned, her eyes darting to the point of impact where she felt the sparks. His fingers flexed so that his hand could better accommodate hers though it was far from necessary. In a cliche world, they were a perfect fit. He coughed, feeling that his throat had become tighter making it a need so that his voice could be understood. "You seem better," He noted, taking in her lighter mood.

With a nod, she tugged on their joined hands, gesturing towards the awaiting booth where the two found their place opposite to Chad and Sharpay. The booth was small, causing Troy and Gabriella to fit just comfortably, legs brushing against each other. He shifted awkwardly, lifting his arm to rest on the back of the booth, initially causing warning signals to trigger off in Gabriella's mind. He was entirely too close, the temperature of the room rising significantly. And the way that he avoided her eyes let her know that he must have felt it, too.

He was watching her. For the first time that night, he was noticing more to her than just the brown eyes that had captivated him. Her dark hair hung loosely in curls, cascading down her back in ways that she hated and found hard to manage. But Troy wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. The red v-neck t-shirt that she was wearing showed not too little but not too much, perfect for Troy's liking. She could feel his eyes as if they were hands, ghosting over every contour of her face, making her shift awkwardly in her seat. Saved by the waitress arriving with sodas that Sharpay had ordered for both herself and Gabriella, Troy's eyes finally deviated from the girl beside him, causing Gabriella to hold in a sigh of relief.

She knew that something was different about the night, the atmosphere and Troy's entire attitude towards her. She knew that the moment they had shared in the gymnasium may have potentially changed their relationship permanently. But she did not know whether or not that was a good or bad thing. A simple brush of his hand against the side of her denim jean covered leg caused her to grow short of breath as she stood from her seat, causing the eyes of Chad and Sharpay to rise in question. But Troy looked on knowingly, as if he had interpreted her actions all along.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," She informed weakly, since she had always been horrible when it came to lying. Especially when she was put on the spot, never would she be able to come up with something reasonable that the other curious teenagers would believe. Sharpay rose from her seat as an offer to join her but Gabriella shook her head desperately. "It's fine," she attempted to reassure her friend. In reality, she needed air, her lungs feeling as if they were collapsing, contracting to the point where they were nothing but shriveled plastic bags.

The temperature had rose far too much in the room for Gabriella's taste. Just as she had done earlier, she had made an efficient escape but this time for much different reasons. Nerves were getting the best of her and this was being caused entirely by none other than Troy Bolton. And no doubt he understood the effects he was having on her with that smug smile that had settled on his face moments prior. Just the simple brush of fingertips ghosting over the skin on her arm and on her leg had caused her face to heat up like an inferno, her eyes resisting from bugging out of her head. Maybe had to be messing with her, bored with his night and needing some kind of outlet. She would be damned if she was being used simply for his entertainment.

However Gabriella feared more that Troy's intentions were true and her reasoning for that was unsure, therefore only making her more afraid since she could not understand.

She allowed his actions to replay in her mind as if she were a referee trying to decipher if his moves were true or not, fair or foul play. But of course, that voice had to interrupt her thoughts as it always did. But this time, it was real and he was there.

"Are you feeling ok?" He asked for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night as if he was genuinely concerned. She would no longer be fooled.

"I'm great," she snapped suddenly, causing Troy to take a step back unknowingly. "I just needed some air."

With narrowed eyes, he cautiously advanced his steps in her direction, not for one second believing her words. Usually he never cared when he could not understand someone's actions or why they chose to use certain words as they spoke. It was just a part of life he had always accepted; people were always going to react in the way he expected. He was just all too prepared for it. But now he was at bat, the pitcher delivering a wild curve ball and he was determined to study the unexpected. And to him, Gabriella was everything unexpected wrapped up into one person. There was no chance that he would not swing and take a chance, he was going all in.

"Well since I've been hanging out with you, I find myself analyzing people a bit more," Troy stated slowly, letting his eyes make that magnetizing connection that seemed to just be there between her own eyes.

All that Gabriella could see in the depths of his ocean blue eyes was truth that he was speaking. It was one reaction that she had invoked in him since she was always telling him new things about himself that he had never once noticed, simply from watching his body language. More and more each day, Troy found himself understanding the people he had surrounded himself with his entire life and it was because of the girl in front of him.

Swallowing a lump that had formed in her throat, Gabriella suddenly found herself incredibly thirsty. For what- she did not know. And now she was finding her previous answer to prove true; she definitely needed air. Taking a step away from the boy who she had made her new case, her new person to figure out, she found her back coming into contact with the wall that was just outside of the restrooms. She bit her lip, her teeth sinking in only lightly as she cursed mentally. She was trapped.

Now Troy understood what it was like to have the tables turned in a good way because there was not a strand in his body that was not enjoying watching Gabriella squirm as if she was under interrogation. "Ever since I've been analyzing people, I noticed a few things about you," Troy continued, nodding in her direction to confirm the words that he had just spoken.

"Oh yeah?" She finally dared herself to challenge him, disliking how this only caused him to up the wager as his hand came to rest on the wall beside her shoulder.

His head lowered, danger signals going off insanely in Gabriella's mind, warning her that he was too close once again. But she knew that she would never fight him off, even if she could. And now she felt his lips on the shell of her ear- the same lips that she had watched part in bewilderment whenever she would ask him something that threw him off or whenever he had not known what to say.

"Yeah," his whisper was raspy against her ear, causing her to shiver involuntarily. "And you know what I noticed?" He asked, his voice so low that she knew it was meant so that only the two of them who could hear the exchange of words, isolated completely from the world that surrounded them.

Pulling his head away from the spot on her neck, Troy steadied himself with both hands by Gabriella's shoulder, almost as if to cage her in, now completely trapped. Feeling the lack of warmth of his breath on her ear, Gabriella's eyes rose from where they were fixated on the floor beneath her feet, only to regret it immediately because his eyes were almost penetrating her soul. She could not speak so instead, she nodded her head slightly to answer his question.

Just when she had thought she was on to something, finally figuring out the mystery that was Troy, he had to go and do something like this. She knew he was on to her games. He was only doing this to throw her off of her task at hand, making himself even more unpredictable. At least that was what she chose to tell herself in her head.

When she felt his finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look only at him, Gabriella felt as if she had backtracked to square one on the game board, starting all over again in the game of trying to understand Troy Bolton.

"You bite your lip when you're nervous," He said with a smirk, catching her red-handed at the scene of the crime, watching as she stopped her teeth from digging into her bottom lip. Slowly and deliberately, his finger trailed from her chin to her lip, his thumb barely grazing over the flesh with shallow indentations from where her teeth had been. "And when you deny something that is true, you blush, so don't even bother," Troy said with a low chuckle, feeling the heat beneath his fingertips as they touched lightly against her cheeks.

Her eyes found the same place on the floor, telling her mind to look at anything but his eyes that seemed to search for hers. There was a long moment of silence that seemed never-ending.

"And finally," his voice broke the silence, his mouth at the same place by her ear. And she could have sworn that she had felt the unmistakable trace of his tongue on her earlobe, causing her to suck in a breath immediately. "You want me," He stated boldly as if it was the simplest thing to say. Just like that, he pulled away, leaving without another word to slide back into his seat in the booth as casually as casual could be. And she was left, speechless, breathless, and confused as she had ever been.

He was stumped, completely at a loss. Roaming the hallways during study hall was something he grew accustomed to whenever his father did not demand that he practiced the extra hour. Usually the roaming was careless, just something that killed time until he was able to go to lunch which was what he had the very next period. Judging by the growls of his stomach, Troy did not believe he would be able to wait that long. Nevertheless, he was determined, his eyes slightly closed as if to be in deep concentration; a gaze he only held when he was extremely focused on the task at hand. Anyone who spent time with Troy on a daily basis would be able to tell from the look on his face that he was surely searching for something. His eyes would darken in the same mysterious way each time, clouded over as his mind hunted for the clues.

Troy was not positive about what had caused him to finally start a search party. For over a year he had considered looking for the girl who had fought her way into his mind, heart, and soul but never had he taken action. Today was the day though, the day that he was convinced that everything would change. Maybe Gabriella had been the final inspiration that caused him to decide that he was going to find his blog girl. He was beginning to develop feelings towards Gabriella that he had not felt towards anyone in a long time, however he felt guilty if he were to pursue her since his mind was made up and transfixed on someone else.

So here he was, lingering in the Literature wing of his school, where all of the English classes were held. He knew he had to start somewhere and creative writing had to be the easiest place. Figuring it would be simple, Troy thought that once he got a hold of classes attendance lists, he could scan the names for any of them that began with "B". From there, he would eliminate, investigate, and do whatever he had to in order to find her. Of course, being loved and cherished by more than half of the school would only work to his advantage since people would gladly help him out in his quest to find this girl.

Turning a sharp corner of a hallway, he found that it was completely empty, deserted, except for a figure crouched on the floor against the wall, appearing to be deep in thought, notepad in hand as her other hand transcribed vigorously. His eyes readjusted as they focused in on the person with their back to the cold lockers, seeming to be off in their own world entirely. His face softened from its hard structure, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he caught himself as he strode forward, his face returning serious and grim, knowing from how she was bent over with her dark curls falling in front of her face that she did not expect his arrival. The carpet muffled his the sound of his footsteps, providing him just enough time to slide his back against the lockers beside where she sat, her head snapping up with alarm within seconds. Before Gabriella could even comprehend what had just happened, Troy had eased himself to sit beside her.

Having been the first time she had been able to get a good look at him all morning, Gabriella covered her mouth as she let out a small giggle, taking in the way Troy had dressed as if he had literally rolled right out of bed and drove to school. That was entirely the case. "What's happening, slick?" Gabriella joked, unable to keep a smile from breaking out onto her face.

Troy's shoulder nudged hers, his eyes scanning down to the papers scattered on her lap. "What's this?"

As quick as quick could be, she gathered the papers and pulled them close to her chest, her cheeks betraying her as they became a shade that resembled those of an apple. "Oh, nothing," She stammered, coughing to clear her throat. But she had already had him curious and that would only lead to persistence. His head kinked to the side, giving her an incredulous look that read 'I'm not buying it in the least bit'.

By then, his shoulders had turned inward, his body language reading that he was truly interested but Gabriella would not budge, keeping her writing locked in the safe of her arms. She could never quite understand why she was so private when it came to her writing. Her whole life, she had turned to writing as an escape to the real world, a way to get out the things that she had always been too afraid to say. It wasn't until the accident two years prior that she was desperately seeking a way out, anything at all. And that was when it dawned on her; the internet. With this generation, technology was changing the way that people communicated entirely. While others were preoccupied using the internet for emailing, networking, and instant messaging, Gabriella became a blogger.

It was nothing at first, just something she would do at least once a week to write down her thoughts. But the weeks turned into months and when she began to get feedback on her writing, Gabriella felt as though in some way, she was making a difference. Though she believed that she was cowardly by keeping her blogging semi-anonymous, Gabriella still felt as though it was an even bolder statement to put your words out there. In a world where ideas and thoughts are shot down everyday, she would do anything to consider herself brave. No matter how far she had come in writing and becoming more in touch with her emotions, she knew that she was not ready to share with her readers and with anyone else for that matter who she really was.

"No really, come on. What is it?" His reaching fingers barely grazed the edges of the notebook paper before she sprung to her feet.

"Just math homework," Gabriella shrugged, hoping that he was believing her.

Troy laughed, "If you're that protective over math homework, are you still sure you cannot play basketball?" He stood slowly, his calm temperament surprising her. "Because if you can protect a ball like that, you'd be perfect back on defense."

Gabriella rolled her eyes, tucking her papers safely in the confinements of her folder, stuffing it deep inside of her backpack. "Nope, I'm positive. I am an absolute train-wreck when it comes to basketball," She told him honestly, sticking to her word that she would never play him because that would accomplish nothing but embarrassment for her. "I still refuse to play you."

"One quick game, sometime after school."

"No."

"Just one game, we can wager, it would be fun."

"Nope."

Troy took in her demeanor, her arms folded tightly over her chest. Gabriella exhaled noisily, blowing a loose curl out of her eyes, only to have it fall right back where it was before. Troy smirked, tucking the piece of hair behind her ear before she could even protest, his hand barely brushing over the skin of her cheek. And he found himself getting lost once more when he knew that this was not where he was meant to be and this was not what he had planned on doing. He cleared his throat, his hand returning to his side lamely. "So, what are you doing anyway?" He was desperate for a subject of discussion.

"I was kicked out of class."

"You are lying," Troy said without even thinking twice.

Gabriella wished that she had been lying. This second semester at a new school had been a semester of firsts for her; first detention, party, and of course the first time she had ever retorted disrespectfully to a teacher. The part that surprised her was that she did not care, rather she was proud of herself for sticking up for what she believed in. No matter who it was, teacher, adult, or respected elder, Gabriella would not hold back from voicing her opinion, especially if someone is speaking ignorance. When her creative writing teacher had shot down the idea of afterlife entirely, she knew that she could not have been the only one in class who disagreed, simply just the only one who had the courage to speak against the strict teacher.

"If I was lying, then why would I be here right now?"

"Good point."

After a mumbled 'mhm', Gabriella shuffled her feet awkwardly, feeling suddenly unsure. "I think the real question is what are you doing?"

With a slight shrug of the shoulders, Troy played it off as if he had not been on a mission to find anyone after all. "Nothing, just passing class time. Study hall drags on."

Chocolate brown eyes narrowed, disbelief shining clearly in the depths of them. Troy felt the heat rising on his neck. Because of the fact that Gabriella was aware of his quick lie made him all the more nervous and on edge; he was horrible at lying whenever he was put on the spot.

"Are you sure about that?" She tested the waters, her eye brows raising with amusement at the look of bewilderment that took on the features of Troy's face.

"Actually, no," He sighed, rather louder than he had intended to. "I was actually looking for a class."

"A class...?"

"A class," Troy confirmed.

She folded her hands together with false expertise, sliding a pencil behind her ear for a more professional look. "How can I help you?"

His signature smirk fought it's way to his face, his arms folded over his chest almost as if to mimic her earlier posture. "Well..." He had not thought this far and did not know how to word the question that he desperately wanted to ask. All he wanted to know was a list of girls names that attended the creative writing classes. Was that too much to ask? Probably, he figured, which was what initially caused him to refrain from speaking, nearly biting his tongue.

"Well...?"

With a brisk shake of his head, Troy backed out, something that Chad and the rest of the basketball team often referred to as 'punking out'. All this meant was that Troy was going to just forget his main purpose for wandering the halls that day, and make up a lame explanation that would get Gabriella off of his back. "Forget it."

"Forget it?" Troy held Gabriella's full attention now, her eyes clearly studying his every moment, her hearing soaking in his every word.

"Yeah." His tone was short.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, his arms returning to his side, his cocky like stance taking over. "Exactly how it sounds. Do you want me to spell it out for you?"

She shook her head, her eyes staring at the floor in disappointment. She thought she was going to have a small break through. Gabriella found herself hoping that maybe, just maybe, he was comfortable enough to open up to her, even if it was only a little tidbit of information. Making sure she had all her belongings, all she wanted to do was get out of the current place that she was in. "You're an asshole, you know that right?"

Troy's eyes widened as Gabriella began walking down the hallway, her pace quick, letting him know that he had said something she had not liked. "Whoa, slow down," He called to her as he tried to catch up to her, gaining a tight hold on her arm which caused her to stop abruptly. He spun her, backing her into a nearby locker, stopping his advancing movements when he heard the light sound of her back coming into contact with the locker. "How am I an asshole?"

"Would you like me to spell it out for you?"

"I'm sorry?" He offered, realizing that once again, he had slid back into that side of him that he really did not want her to see. He and his close friends knew that there were two parts of him, almost like good and evil, the super ego and the id.

"Of course you are."

His face scrunched up, his confusion written in his eyes. "Wait, what?"

She let out a sigh, her quickened defensive pace that she was walking slowing as her mind transitioned from angered thoughts to thoughts that were more tranquil. "I feel like...sometimes...I don't know."

"Yeah you do," Troy persisted. "Tell me."

"Sometimes I think you say things just because you know it's what the other person wants to hear."

The words hung there like an uncomfortable tension, the atmosphere uneasy and suddenly filled with more meaning.

"Just tell me what you are really thinking, Troy. There's nothing you could say that is going to make me turn around right now, and walk away for good. I'm hooked, fully interested," Gabriella continued, "And that's the truth. If that's the thing between us that everyone refers to, the thing that everyone is unsure of, then that's that. The thing between us is that I want to desperately get to know you." Gabriella's rambling came to an end as she hoped that her words made sense to Troy and actually conveyed the thoughts that had housed themselves in her mind ever since she had met him on her first day at East High. "And I know that you want to get to know me, too."

Troy felt something new ignite within him and he did not know what it was. He had never felt it before or perhaps maybe he had, he just could not remember the last time that he had. It was confidence- confidence that he had in Gabriella not to back out on her word. She really was not going to desert him and her words were completely genuine. He felt as though all of the confusion of what they were, the bond that they shared, had been lifted as his heavy heart became lighter. Without another thought, he extended his left hand to shake hers, as if meeting someone for the first time.

As he did this he remembered when he was a boyscout in his younger years and he had been taught the significance of the handshake. It had been said that the Europeans would shake with their right hands since their left hands would carry their shield, so that they could protect themselves as they shook the hand of another. What this symbolized was that they did not trust the other person whose hand they were shaking. In contrast, the Africans began shaking hands with their left hands to signify that they were willing to use their hand that held the shield, showing their trust for the other.

"Hey," He spoke slowly, watching a smirk that resembled one of his own, form on Gabriella's face. "I'm Troy."

"Pleasure to meet you, Troy," Gabriella's voice matched his tone. "I'm Gabriella."

And they were finally seeing each other for who they really were for the first time.

"So, where was it again that you were headed?" Gabriella inquired playfully.

"I was looking for a class...well, a girl that I thought would be in one of these classes." Troy told her honestly, watching as the expression on her face remained the same.

It took everything inside of her not to give away what she had been really thinking. She understood that a single twitch of her lip or blink of an eye could lead him to think that she was bothered by this. "Oh?" Gabriella kept her voice steady, portraying her curiosity. "Who is this girl?"

He shrugged just as honestly as before. "I truly have no idea..." Troy watched the new expression make its way on her face, purely reading that she thought he was crazy.

"Then how do you even know where we're going to start?"

"We?" Troy's eye brows rose with gratification.

She nodded with such sureness that he was put at ease. "I'm going to help you find her."

"Well I was thinking a Creative Writing class..."

October 14th, 2009

I learned a lot today. Once you think you have someone completely figured out, a jagged piece is thrown into the puzzle. Clearly it does not fit, causing you to have to begin all over again. People are complex puzzles, whether I want to accept this or not. I cannot snap my fingers and fully understand someone. In order to understand a troubled mind, you have to take the time, piecing together the parts slowly. I'm ready though, more than I've ever been before. Throw me into the mix. Maybe there will be a place for me in the puzzle that is your life. I hope so.

-B