Thanks for the reviews, I honestly love your feedback. This chapter was incredibly difficult to write- critique all you'd like.

"I think I took the wrong path and I need to find my way back. They say you're never too far to start it all again. Am I too far? Maybe I wasn't made for this world."

Scarecrow, Between the Trees

There was a loud clash that came from somewhere on the first floor of the house. A pause followed after the loud noise, then there was the same repetitive clanging of a dish once again, followed by a choked sob. Troy felt a twist in his gut, almost making him feel physically sick. With his face contorted in pain, Troy rose from his bed where he had been lying, his hands loosely hanging by his sides. With heightened senses, he crept into the empty hallway, so silent that his shadow could draw more attention than his uneven breaths. He remained that way as if he were frozen in time, listening as the sobs coming from where he figured to be the kitchen, continued to sound off. Finally Troy expelled a long awaited breath that he had not realized he had been holding inside.

He descended the stairs hesitantly, fearing what he was going to see just as he expected he would see once he reached the kitchen. He could not even pretend as though he were surprised since the person he expected to find was hunched over on the kitchen floor with their whole body trembling as every wave of emotion pulled them further away from the safety of the shore. He sighed, turning his head away from the sight before him for only a brief moment before snapping back into his reality. "Ma, what are you doing?" Troy asked, trying not to sound like he was pulling teeth or talking to a small child. But that was what it felt like sometimes.

"This dish, it fell on the floor," She stated, her voice soft, almost a whisper. "It didn't break though," she continued slowly. "But then it slipped again."

Lucille Bolton had not always been this way. She was raised by her parents who were a part of the working class in America which meant that she was never spoiled and had to work for everything that she had ever gotten in her life. In high school, she had fallen in love with the all star player on the basketball team. But just as everything else in her life, Lucille had to work just as hard to win over the heart of Jack Bolton. Even in the beginning of their relationship she was always a few steps ahead. And she cursed herself mentally for having not seen the early signs.

As a young and naive girl, she had convinced herself that he was the picture of perfection. Jack Bolton maintained his decent grades in school while balancing basketball, not to mention she had found him incredibly handsome at one time. But she could not see it anymore.

His blue eyes no longer shined and she was no longer captivated by the beauty that she had once seen in his face. She found that over the years that she had allowed him to treat her as a doormat, she had grown to resent him.

And Lucille had not always been this way. When she and Jack first got married, their future was so bright. They had a child on the way and Jack was finding alternatives since he had given up his dream of playing college basketball in order to make time for his new family. Now looking back, she thought that she must have been the picture of ignorance, believing that everything was going to be fine...just as he had promised. This was what her life had turned into and Lucille accepted every part of it. She accepted that her husband would now leave the house for weeks at a time, leaving no phone calls and also had not told her that he loved her in what felt like years. And there was only one reason that she accepted this life. That very reason stood before her, emotional pain etched in every line that made up his face.

Irony really was a well...for lack of better words, a bitch sometimes, Lucille thought. She found it to be the strangest thing that she had hated Jack Bolton to the point that it drove her mad; just seeing his face set off a fire inside her. But when she looked at her son who so closely resembled the man that she loathed, she could not help but feel pacified. And he was the only driving force that caused her to still believe in happy endings.

Her mind flashed back to the day when the children in the neighborhood were playing by the old man-made pond by the basketball court at the local park. It was all a blur since the events had replayed in her mind every day that passed since the incident, causing them to mesh together which jumbled what had really happened in her head. All Lucille could remember was the shouts that were once playful, turning into fear. There was another mother nearby shouting that someone call 911. As any caring mother, Lucille arrived at the scene quicker than the flash of a camera, her eyes scanning the crowd of children for her son who was no where to be found. "What happened?" She found herself yelling even though she had sworn to herself that she was going to stay as calm as she possibly could.

"The boy, he dove in," a young girl provided minimal details, only causing Lucille's initial fear to grow in size since aware of how shallow that pond was and that its floor was completely concrete.

It had proven to be difficult to see through the murky water of the pond. Why was it so damn hard to see through the water? Before she could even comprehend what she was doing, Lucille had already jumped off the dock, frantically searching the water with extended arms, opening her eyes under the dirty water with no luck when it came to finding her son.

"Troy Alexander Bolton! You cannot do this to me," She screamed hysterically, only ceasing the wild thrashing of her arms when she heard a familiar melodic giggle behind her. Whipping her head around, she found her son treading the water, a bump already forming on his small head.

"I bang-ded my head on the bottom..." His voice drew out, as if he knew he were about to get in deep trouble. "Banged." He corrected himself quickly, knowing how much his mother disliked having to correct him more than once. "I thought I saw something shiny at the bottom."

Her mouth hung open incredulously and that was when she knew; she would devote her life entirely to her son. He was like an angel sent to be the only source of happiness in her life.

He had not even known how to swim prior to the incident.

And now here she was, feeling as pathetic as she did nearly every day of her life, her son picking up her pieces once again.

"But it's still good Ma," Troy shook her from the memories that were replaying in her mind as he offered a smile that was so obviously forced. "No cracks," He added, taking the dinner dish from her hands, turning it over on its side to prove that his words were the honest truth. "You just might want to try rinsing off the soap before you attempt to dry it," He continued with sarcasm.

She nodded and slowly rose to her feet, smoothing out her work shirt and pretending that her setback that had just occurred did not happen. "Were you around when your father stopped by today?" Lucille asked, trying to sound as casual as she could.

"No, why?"

"He came by today," She pointed out as she resumed cleaning and drying the dishes the correct way.

Troy's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Did he say anything? Or...?"

The corners of her mouth turned up a bit, almost as if she was trying her hardest to smile but it was a task that could not be accomplished. "He left me flowers...my favorite kind."

Lilies, Troy confirmed in his head. "Oh, really?" He tried not to let his voice betray him.

"Yeah, I put them in water, they are in the vase by the window," Lucille said as she gestured to the window in the living room that had a small coffee table in front of it. On top of the table she chose to display the arrangement of lilies, lighting up the small corner of the dull house.

"They're nice," He said coolly, having thought the same thing when he had purchased them a few hours earlier and then left them by the front door.

His mother's mouth parted slightly as if she were about to say something but the sudden ring of the doorbell jarred them both from their own worlds.

"I'll get it," Troy offered, retreating to answer the door when he was sure that his mother was fine, her hand clutching a dish towel tightly in her grasp with determination.

He opened the door, only to step outside after seeing who was on the other side, leaving it open slightly behind him. With his eyes widening slightly, Troy shook his head trying to rid himself of his confusion. Did something happen? How did she know where he lived? Was there something going on that he was not aware of? All these questions began to flood his mind, making it difficult for him to even speak. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought your homework from fifth period since you mysteriously disappeared."

Instead of asking all of the questions that were taking over his thoughts, he opted for the quick and easier way out; take the homework, thank her, and go back inside. There was some kind of mystery that was solved whenever anyone met his mother or saw the house in which he grew up in. Troy would never admit that he was nervous to have her at his doorstep. His eyes widened even more, his head checking over his shoulder to see if his mother had overheard her words. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that his mother was no longer in the kitchen or nowhere else nearby. "Well thanks," Troy said awkwardly after running a hand through his hair then letting it hang lamely at his side.

Gabriella went to speak, her mouth barely ajar when the door opened from the other side, a woman in her early forties peeking outside as she held the door open.

"Are you going to be rude or are you going to invite your friend inside?" Lucille Bolton asked from her new position, her tone half chastising and half joking.

"It's really okay..." Gabriella felt awkward now, shifting uncomfortably where she stood on the Bolton's front patio.

"See, it's fine, Ma."

"No, I insist," Lucille held the door open completely now which caused Troy to look away, avoiding looking at Gabriella entirely. "And what did I hear about you not being in class?"

Gabriella's mouth formed in a small 'o' as Troy began resisting the urge to put his head through the nearest wall. "Oh..oh wow, I'm sorry," Gabriella stammered, having nothing else to say.

"It's alright," He reassured her and she knew that it was the truth by the lightness of his usual smoldering eyes. And the two teenagers remained that way, the sudden awkwardness of the situation fading away as brown met blue.

Interrupting the moment, Lucille continued to keep her firm hand on the front door, keeping it open for Gabriella to enter. "Come in sweetheart," She smiled warmly. "I'm Lucille, Troy's mother."

Gabriella's eyes moved back and forth from Troy to Lucille, her mind putting together their resemblance. Other than the hair color, she could not tell that they were related at all. Lucille had deep hazel eyes, almost border-lining the color brown. The shape of her face was rounder than Troy's, and all together there were no common traits between the two relatives.

"Hello," She spoke slowly and tentively, trying to stall for more time. "I'm Gabriella, Troy's friend." She wondered if what she had said sounded more like a question than a statement. "Yeah, I'm a friend of Troy's," She reinstated in her mind, only to realize that she had spoken aloud.

He was studying her; the way her face was changing different pigments of red, the way she stammered and bumbled when she did not have the words to say. Usually, she never seemed to run out of the right words to choose. It was almost like she had a dictionary in her head that was constantly flipping pages, scanning and searching for the perfect words in every situation that Gabriella was put in.

"Oh...I see." Lucille's smile only grew wider which led to both Troy and Gabriella exchanging nervous glances.

"No, Ma, you got the wrong idea I think." Now it was his turn to stumble over his words. "I mean...yeah?"

This would be the exact moment that the cartoon character would bring their palm to their forehead, deeming themselves as a dope, Gabriella thought. She had not realized that she began avoiding the looks from both Troy and Lucille as her eyes wandered around the living room of the Bolton house. It was nothing out of the ordinary; a couch against the wall, a love-seat in the corner with coffee table in the middle of the room and a television set in the most probable place. It was not much but it was his. And whatever was his intrigued her in every way that she would have ever imagined possible.

Troy coughed, pulling Gabriella from her mind where she was currently resided.

"Well...why don't you show her my flowers," Lucille suggested and pointed out what Gabriella had failed to notice before. In the corner of the living room in front of a window and next to the love-seat was a smaller side table which displayed a glass vase of lilies, catching just the right amount of light. She was surprised that she had not noticed them before since now that they had been mentioned, she could not tear her eyes away from them. They pulled the whole room together, almost as if without them, the room would be in pieces.

"Lilies are my favorite," Gabriella said, her eyes never leaving the sight of the flowers.

The expressions on the Bolton's faces changed from light to hard in the matter of seconds upon hearing the crunching of stones in the driveway. Troy was too busy noticing the change in his mother's demeanor to take in Gabriella's confusion.

She felt like a random strangler who had been picked up on the streets and thrown in with people she did not know and was now witnessing a part of their world that they kept so hidden from others. In the midst of the confusion she found herself wondering how long lilies lasted before they became shriveled and ugly, before the beauty they once displayed no longer existed. Lucille swayed as she smoothed out the shirt she was wearing, blocking Gabriella's view of the flowers. This finally made Gabriella take note of the scared and apprehensive look on Lucille's face.

Turning, she looked at Troy for the answers that she did not find.

"Can you take your friend upstairs for a moment?" Lucille asked calmly but her eyes were pleading, the amount of pain in which Gabriella saw there was enough to cause a pang in the pit of her own stomach.

Troy was barely taking in the moment. Gabriella had come over to drop of an assignment, his mother had practically pulled her inside. The relationship between him and Gabriella had been established as nothing more than a friendship but Troy knew his mother had not bought that for a minute. And now the familiar sound of an SUV pulling in to the driveway only meant one thing- his father had decided to return home. For how long, neither he or his mother could be sure.

"Ma..." Troy's voice cracked. He did not want this. He had not prepared for this, he simply was not ready.

"Please."

And that was all it took. Gabriella had felt like all of the air in the house had been used up, her breath she was holding until she felt Troy tugging her hand up the stairs and down a darkened hallway. She was in a movie, her feet were barely even carrying her. He had pulled her into a room where she could not see anything.

Finally there was the clicking of a switch and there was light. Troy was quick on his feet, opening the blinds that had shaded his room prior to their entrance and kicking dirty laundry on his floor until it formed a pile that was still sloppy nonetheless. Gabriella's world was spinning as she watched his motions, as he disappeared and reappeared with a stereo in hand, his fingers clutching the plug as began desperately searching for a socket. She could see the anxiety in his eyes as she began to search as well, not knowing what else she could possibly do. After what felt like years, the stereo came to life, with music so loud it caused Gabriella to wince with each beat of the drum.

Troy refused to look at her as he sat on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands as if his head were in excoriating pain. This gave Gabriella the time she needed to take in her surroundings, feeling like an explorer who had discovered a new piece of land. To her dismay, she found this 'piece of land' depressing and bare; the walls completely white without a single form of decoration. She searched left and right for a poster, a picture, anything...but was only disappointed. There was a dresser, an unmade bed, a closed door which she figured to be a closet and some clutter on the floor.

Her world continued to spin and she knew his was too. Never had she expected her night would turn out this way. She was positioned like a forgotten child in the corner of Troy's bedroom, having no other choice but to watch his pain. There was no longer any movement from him and neither of the teens labored breathing could be heard over the stereo as it blasted the chorus of songs that served as nothing else but static noise.

They would have never known what was happening on the floor beneath them if it was not for the CD switching tracks, the few seconds of silence between songs causing Troy to flinch when he heard the shattering of glass. And he shook, convulsing, breaking down just as vase had.

His fingers worked at his hair, tugging on the short dark strands as his vision was trained solely on the floor. And he would have stayed that way for the rest of the night if it was not for the soft but cold hand, that had covered one of his frantic ones. Slowly, Troy lifted his head, his eyes connecting with the girl whose presence he had almost forgotten. And just like that, it was happening all over again. She refused to back down or break their gaze, just simply took in every emotion he was feeling, she could feel it just from seeing those pained baby blues. Willingly or not, his hand responded, clasping hers with a force that was unbreakable. Gabriella was not sure completely about what was going on just down a flight of stairs but it was enough to make her cry, but Gabriella pushed the feeling back, knowing that it was not her time to be weak.

She would help him simply because she knew that no matter how much he denied it, he needed help more than anyone.

Troy stood on unstable legs, never looking away from her. He gestured towards a cracked window that had a ladder set up next to it, purposefully of course. Gabriella followed suit with a tight lip, knowing that now was no time to complain over her irrational fear of heights.

It was almost as if her feet were doing all of the thinking since she could not comprehend what was going on and before she even knew it- her feet hit the ground. Her cheeks were wet, her eyes clouding over again as she did nothing more but follow Troy as he walked, his strides fast and far apart, like he was fleeing the scene of a crime. She tried her hardest, his previous words taunting her mind, "Just keep up, ok?" His pace only slowed after rounding the corner of his street where he flopped like a defeated soldier on a nearby patch of grass.

With roaming hands, Troy reached into his pocket, pulling out his box of cancer-sticks and a lighter. Shortly after he began to inhale whatever his smokes had to offer him, Gabriella appeared, puffy-eyed and out of breath.

There had been a long period of silence, it was almost too long. Inside, Gabriella felt as though she were being tortured gruesomely.

"What. the. hell." She barely managed to say the words, her voice airy and panting.

This was it, he was going to have to explain his entire life to this girl. This girl he really did not know too much about, this girl who made him feel like...

His eyes snapped up to meet her raging brown eyes in an intense staring battle. She was demanding answers. And he still did not have them.

"What did I say about those!" She said desperately, referring to the cigarrettes. That was when Troy knew she was going to talk about what had just happened only if he wanted to.

There was more silence as he hesitantly put out his cigarette, staring out into the distance, looking at nothing at all.

Gabriella was lying flat on her back, longer strands of grass were itchy against her face but she was coping. She looked up at the watercolor sky that hung above their heads. Somewhere in between the time that she had walked to his house and now there had been a takeover of pinks and oranges as the sun set. Sighing noisily, her mind was screaming throughout her and Troy's silence. So many questions had been left unanswered but at the same time...everything was beginning to make sense to her. His family issues were what caused him to act out in school, why he never seemed to care about things that a 'normal' teenager would. "You..."

Troy's attention deviated to her in milliseconds upon hearing her voice. She had thought she was thinking in her head but now she felt completely trapped.

"What?" He dared to ask, the first word he had spoke in what felt like centuries.

She sighed once more, her eyes drifting closed almost dreamily. "You seem like you would have the nicest smile."

"What happened?" Sharpay demanded as she and Gabriella walked in the direction of their first period class after homeroom the next morning.

Gabriella shrugged.

"Explain in full detail, something had to have happened," She babbled on, the look on her perfectly powdered face was pure puzzlement. "Troy disappeared off the face of the earth!" The blonde continued. "He never showed at lunch or fifth period yesterday, we sent you with an assignment and now he's still not here..." Throwing her head back, Sharpay groaned.

"You are so frustrating! Chad and I wanted you to take his work to him, we wanted the scoop."

"What?" Gabriella asked, her voice coming out raspy.

Now Sharpay was the one who shrugged. "I don't know what it is, but he's been more open since you have come around. Feel lucky, I don't know, do with it what you will but at least let me know what is going on!" She insisted, nothing but concern laced in her voice. "He's one of my best friends, the best friend of my boyfriend and he just worries us so much sometimes," Sharpay fanned her eyes, feeling them well up with tears. "You may think I'm being dramatic but if you have only seen the way he gets sometimes..."

But she had seen it. Gabriella almost shuddered at the amount of tension and pain that made up the Bolton household.

"Was he sick? Is it just a cold maybe?" Sharpay continued to ask questions.

"He was fine when I dropped off the assignment from Darbus, he did not seem sick in the least bit," Gabriella informed, trying not to bump into anyone passing by her in the hallways of the high school.

Sharpay sighed, "Something must have happened..."

Gabriella tried to recall the events from the previous night but they were all a blur in her head, almost as if they were a drunken stupor that did not exist. From the corner of his street, the two teenagers had sat in silence, the only noise was the passing of cars as they drove by. After some time, Troy had walked her home to an empty house, barely any words or looks exchanged between them. She remembered falling asleep that night in the same silence that had consumed her and Troy, tears flowing freely down her face. It had been awhile since she had felt so broken. There were times when she could not figure out what she was feeling inside besides this intense loneliness taking over every inch of her body. She had felt desperate for something...she was not sure what it was though.

She could not believe the look on his face. Never had she seen someone so fragile. At any given moment, he could completely deteriorate, becoming like the little broken shards of his mother's favorite vase. And now her friend was asking her these questions that she did not have the answers to. Gabriella knew she would never be able to explain in words what had happened last night. Whenever she tried to wrap her mind around it, she only wanted to cry.

"What the fuck," Sharpay's whisper drew Gabriella away from her own thoughts as she lifted her gaze to see where Sharpay was looking.

That was when she saw him.

He was looking as healthy as he ever did. For once, his face was not hidden by a dark hood. He was sporting a white t-shirt and dark jeans, his focus was directly in front of his steps.

"Why does he look so different?" Gabriella heard Sharpay ask the same question that was running through her own mind.

Troy was getting closer now, his facial expressions stunning Gabriella momentarily. She had not realized that she had stopped walking and was now standing still, blocking up the hall to anyone trying to get around her. He looked over in their direction, not making exact eye contact with either of them, only nodding as if to let them know that he was fine. That was when something clicked in Gabriella's mind. Troy was different. The posture of his back was enough for her to know this for sure. There was definitely something different about him...something that he possessed.

Hope.

October 20th, 2009

I never thought I would officially become a Wildcat but I soon will be. My entire life I have only cheered for them because I had always thought of them as 'my team', even though they were not. They were your team; the team that you played on when you were in high school. I built my life by only wanting to be apart of what you were apart of. You were who I looked up to, who I turned to and who was always there. My rock, my safety-net, my everything. It's so different now that you're gone, I went for days without getting out of bed. From there, I went out and began to do everything that I was not supposed to do. When I look back and ask myself why...I really don't know. When I was forced to get help, I was told that it was nothing but a cry for attention. But if I really had to put a name to what it was I would say that it was my bravado. I was trying to prove that I was not afraid. The risky behavior only made me feel closer to you...my rock, my saftey-net, my everything. Then I wondered what you would have to say about how I had acted out and that thought alone makes my heart feel empty. I am not afraid. But the proof is no longer in my actions..only in my mind and in these words that I write.

-B