Chapter 5

Disclaimer: All creative rights to the characters in this story related to High School Musical belong to its original creators. Any other names, places or events that may have similarity to existing/actual names, places or events is purely coincidental and the use of such is for the purpose of this story alone. Lastly, the author does not, in any way, profit from this story.

Of their stunned, gawking audience, Troy saw from the corner of his eye, a dark haired girl with glasses was the first to recover and hurriedly approached Gabriella as he was setting her down on her feet. "Are you all right? Are you in pain?" She asked, worry etched on her face as she hastily untangled the ropes and unstrapped the harness from Gabriella with Troy's assistance.

Friend. Troy instantly assumed. Close friend. The concern on the girl's face was did not look contrived and she was actually paying attention to Gabriella than him, which could not be said of the other people around them who were openly gaping at him, more curious—he's fairly certain—of who he is than of Gabriella's recent plight.

At least another person is concerned for Gabriella, which should be the only concern right now if he has any say in it. He came in the auditorium still unsettled after his trip to the cash machine and actually felt a burst of terror when he saw Gabriella hanging from that contraption—a feeling so foreign to him and doesn't want to feel again, a feeling that obliterated everything else—then in the next second screaming and falling down and there was no one doing or attempting to do anything to break her fall. Everyone was frozen, except for him. He acted out of instinct and the strong drive to keep her from plunging into serious physical injury which he's quite sure could've been permanently damaging in so many ways was what made him spring in action. She'd endured the beating of that accursed mugger already and he'd be damned if he sees her hurt again.

For her sake, he had been smiling, playing it cool when he caught her but he was so relieved that his timing was right and he was able to catch her out of harm's way. He's sure his heart was thudding just as fast as hers.

"Yes and no." Gabriella gave a reassuring smile and lightly squeezed her friend's arm, a silent thanks for her concern.

"But your bruises from yesterday . . . they must hurt . . ."

"She took pain killers." Troy drew Kelsi's attention to him although he didn't seem to care that one more astonished eye was looking at him and without taking his gaze away from Gabriella, he added in a tone that would become admonishing if she answered other than what he expected. "Didn't you, Gabriella? Doctor's orders, remember?"

Shaking her head, Gabriella gave him a look of confusion, when normally she would have been annoyed at his tone. The fall had her trembling slightly and Troy's unexplained presence isn't helping her bearings one whit to get in order. "You have that wrong. Doctor said it's to be taken at my discretion." She informed him, grappling to steady herself. God, it feels like she's ready to swoon. "That isn't . . ." She shook her head again, determined to clear it then asked, "Why are you here?"

Troy chose to ignore the question for the moment. He owes her an explanation but that will be said when she's had her senses properly in line and without an audience who at the moment are already closing in on them at the stage. "Tell me you took it then. I'm pretty sure you were in pain this morning."

"Obviously, I took it. After all these," She made a wide gesture with her trembling hand. "I feel numb as it is."

"You're shaking." He pointed out, though it was fairly obvious. He was annoyed by whoever is responsible for her fall but was careful not to show it. He doesn't know these people. And for his peace of mind, he'll assume it was an accident. "Take deep breaths. You're gonna be okay."

"And I'm very grateful that you caught me but don't evade the question, Troy." She persisted, showing the same stubborn streak he'd come to recognize on their first meeting. "Why are you here? You're supposed to be—"

"Gone." He provided with a wan smile, pressing a warm hand to her back and stroking it up and down the length of it, a motion meant to calm her. "I thought I'd be gone too."

"Exactly." She took a deep steadying breath as if to rid the tiny shudders from her body, briefly giving in to the soothing strokes of Troy's hand, then once she felt the tremors receding, faced him squarely. "What happened?"

"Long story."

She didn't want excuses. "I happen to love stories."

"I know." He chuckled, remembering the books in her room. With the weight of his dilemma, Troy had no business feeling amused but here he was grinning at the thought and further bewildering her. "My story isn't like the ones you're fond of reading though."

She frowned at that, wondering what he meant but she insisted regardless. Something must have happened, she knows this without needing confirmation, or else he wouldn't be standing before her right now. "Explain it then and make it simple. My head is still a bit muddled."

Jason suddenly stood beside her and startled both her and Kelsi but not Troy. "He'll explain, Gabster. But not here. It's damn wonderful that he's here though, otherwise it would've been a nasty, nasty fall." He bore concerned eyes at her, searching her pale features. "You all right, sis?"

"Yes . . . I think."

"Wonderful?" Kelsi echoed dumbly, lost in the conversation, her eyes darting on each their faces.

"You—" The last place in East High her brother would dare to enter is the auditorium. The few times he was there, he was either coerced or threatened and even then he'd done so with a disgusted demeanor he does not bother to hide, telling one and all that he doesn't care for theater, drama and weird costumes. Seeing Jason, unaccountably cheerful and surprisingly at ease in the place he hates to be in, Gabriella knew at once that Troy's presence there is because of him. "You brought him here . . . why?"

"Gabriella," Troy said, the hand stroking her back slid to her elbow and gently squeezed. "I wasn't—"

"Explanations later. But rest assured I didn't force him out of his plans or anything." Jason interrupted, his eyes darting swiftly to the other students who were making their way to them. "Let's take you home. I already told Darbus we're leaving."

Ignoring Jason, Kelsi looked from Gabriella to Troy, paused long enough to study the stranger who daringly caught her friend and after a time, emitted a shocked gasp as if she couldn't believe what she's seeing and adding to that is the way the stranger talked to Gabriella like he appointed himself her friend's keeper. She turned back to Gabriella, eyes glinting with surprise and a pleasant understanding of who the stranger is, a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Is he—"

"He is." Gabriella murmured loud enough for Kelsi to hear while the rest of the students began talking all at once around them, converging on the handsome stranger—the guys were curious and reluctantly impressed of Troy, the girls were flirting with Troy, eager to make his acquaintance, noticing the appealing, more compelling aura of him that could not be said about the guys they usually hang with. He was of a different breed and they know it—and Miss Darbus questioning Jason why he's there with unknown company.

Kelsi urged on despite the swirling of voices around them, her gaze fixed on Gabriella. "Shouldn't he—"

She understood at once, nodding. "He should." Then she muttered something to the three girls who stepped close to her, asking if she was all right and before she could even reply properly, asked for an introduction to Troy, which she quickly did since its quite obvious it's what they're more interested in.

Kelsi maintained the conversation with her despite the interruptions. "But he's—"

Likewise, it wasn't a problem for Gabriella to hold on to the same disjointed exchange with Kelsi. "I know."

"Do you—"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't." Then she complied with another . . . and another request for introduction to the handsome stranger who rescued her.

"I see."

Gabriella sighed and feeling suddenly irritated to be in the center of a crowd, she pushed her way out and stood next to Kelsi a little to the left of the gathered bodies around Troy, just as Emmett rushed his way to her with a deeply apologetic look on his face. Before he could say anything, Gabriella glared at him and Kelsi slapped him hard on the arm.

"Gabriella, I'm sorry." He rasped wincing at Kelsi's whack but didn't complain, instead he clasped both of Gabriella's hands in his, and gently squeezing as though willing her to believe how sorry he is and that his incompetence in handling the ropes wasn't deliberate nor a prank of some kind. "You aren't heavy and I was confident I could hold your weight but . . ."

"Miss D told you to get someone to assist you since Martin isn't here." Kelsi reminded, admonishing. "God, Emmett! If she was injured . . ."

"I could cheerfully strangle you right now, Emmett." Gabriella muttered but there was no anger in her tone. It was an error in judgment and Emmett readily took responsibility instead of blaming another or something else. But she was still irritated with him for the fright she went through.

"You can harm me all you like, Gabs." If Emmett didn't look very serious, Gabriella would have laughed at his sincere eagerness to be harmed but she kept it contained. Let him simmer in guilt for awhile as retribution. "I won't balk."

"Let me think of ways." She said, then turning to Kelsi glaring at Emmett, she grinned, "Any suggestions, Kels?"

"Short of murder, you mean?" Kelsi retorted caustically, eyes never leaving Emmett. "One or two."

"Your brothers will most likely kill me for this, especially Chad and I'm still waiting for a stinging lecture and maybe a detention from Darbus for this mishap." Emmett dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her instead, hugging her protectively, repeatedly expressing his remorse, his stupidity, apologizing and promising to wait for the harm she could think of to inflict on his person. "Gabs, I'm really, really sorry."

"I forgive you." Gabriella said on a sigh, taking pity on the guy. It wasn't done on purpose after all and Emmett was a decent enough person to admit his fault and ask for forgiveness for it. Trapped within the circle of his arms, she awkwardly tapped Emmett's broad back. "You're in deep shit enough as it is. But I'm afraid I'll pass being strapped into that thing for awhile."

Emmett tightened his embrace. "You're an angel, Gabs. I should also thank that guy who caught you. I'd never forgive myself if you were hurt."

"Benson, let go of my sister." Jason interrupted breaking away from the group of gaggling students, darted a quick look at Miss Darbus to see if she was within hearing distance then hissed, "What the fuck were you thinking? You're far from being Hercules, man!" He was clearly angry which very rarely happens to Jason so Emmett promptly and wisely dropped his arms from Gabriella. "Seeing my sister fall is not something I'd like to see ever again, Benson. That scared the living daylights out of me."

"Jason, believe it or not, when the rope slipped from my grasp, I wanted to jump off the railing to save Gabriella. Take the fall. Protect her from the impact . . ."

"Gabriella," Troy's voice suddenly drawled so close to her ear and almost made her jump. "you haven't introduced me to your friends yet." He tipped his head toward Emmett who was fervently explaining himself to Jason and barely noticed Troy.

She thought he was still with the rest of her theater buddies, indulging in their attention. "I—" She began but noticed the slight scowl on his face as though he's displeased with something.

"No, she hasn't. She's a bit confused and woozy as you can see. Anyone would be after that fall." Kelsi cut in by way of explanation, smiling brightly, drawing his attention, hand extended at Troy. "Hi, I'm Kelsi!"

Clasping the small hand, he returned the girl's pleasant demeanor with one of his own, for the meantime setting aside his unreasonable irritation for the guy who hugged Gabriella. He liked this Kelsi, he decided, and she's obviously a friend to Gabriella. "Nice to meet you Kelsi. I'm Troy."

"Likewise Troy." Behind her glasses, she leveled intelligent eyes at him but her tone remained deceptively innocent and overly cheerful. "I'm Gabriella's friend. Are you her friend too?"

"Kelsi!" Gabriella tugged her hand but to no avail. Kelsi was determined to know the stranger.

Troy grinned, recognizing the cleverness behind the harmless question. Kelsi was trying to know or trying to confirm her suspicions about who he is but she's doing it in a way that was both smart and none irritating unlike the others that mobbed him. "I'm more like her stray."

"You're not my stray." Gabriella objected straight away. "He's a friend, Kelsi."

Kelsi quirked a brow and a tiny hint of a smirk curved her lips. "Stray or not . . . it's your turn to save Gabriella, it seems."

"She told you the unfortunate incident last night?"

Kelsi's smile told Troy she knows what the unspoken question he was really asking—she didn't tell you my name? She answered the unspoken one. "She told me what happened—the unfortunate mugging—but referred to you in generic terms as 'he' and 'the guy'." She made air quotes for emphasis. "No name was mentioned, I'm afraid."

With a cool nod and quick smile at Kelsi, he turned to Gabriella and raised a brow at her. "You didn't tell your friend about me."

For some reason, his mildly scolding tone and the unusual glint in his blue eyes made Gabriella blush like pink roses in bloom. But she lifted her chin and met his look unabashed. "No specific details. I didn't think it was necessary to mention—"

"Of course you should've mentioned him."

"Kelsi, stop this! I know what you're doing."

"I didn't realize I'm that forgettable. It's only been a few hours and last night we even talked before going to bed." Troy stated, a somewhat offended look on his face. He'd meant to be teasing but within seconds he realized he felt upset for real that she wouldn't tell her friend about him. "Other people I've met remember me quite easily even years later."

The mention of bed perked Kelsi's interest further and she threw Gabriella a this-is-something-you-tell-your-friend look before asking Troy. "You stayed with them last night?"

"Yes. In her room." He replied but kept his eyes on Gabriella's bent head and, whether he was aware or not, his hands rested idly on the small of her back.

"How was it?" It sounded like a casual inquiry but the way Kelsi was looking at Gabriella and Troy and that hand of his comfortably settled on her back—which her friend doesn't seem to mind or she doesn't realize is there—made it obvious to anyone that her curiosity is at its peak and she was partly gauging everything based on what she sees.

"It was quite cozy . . . her room."

"Indeed. I'll take your word for it." Kelsi said and she sounded like someone who was practicing a lesson in diction and phonics.

Gabriella didn't think it was possible but she blushed even more. Forgettable? God, since this morning she's been trying hard not to think of him! She felt suddenly embarrassed for unwittingly offending Troy with an untruth and because Kelsi was having a jolly time with what she's discovering of last night's events and steering away the issue at hand of Troy being there. "You're not forgettable, Troy." She admitted, for a split second closing her eyes to compose herself. "I didn't think I should mention you when ours was just a very brief acquaintance. I didn't think you'd be here today—catching my fall—although I'm thankful because you saved me. I thought you'd have gone off already . . . we both know you shouldn't be here."

"You're right. I didn't think I'd be here too but I am here." He said, gently lifting her chin with his forefinger and thumb so that she was looking at him. "Are you so disappointed to see me?"

As soon as their eyes met, Gabriella realized he was teasing her. He was grinning widely, exuding boyish charm and playfulness, and Kelsi looked like she was ready to laugh at her gullibility and there was a knowing gleam in her eyes that jolted Gabriella's brain. Mentally shaking herself, she averred crisply, "I'm disappointed that you're not telling me why you're here."

"Once we get back to the apartment, I will tell you . . . and your aunt."

"Good!" Kelsi exclaimed. "That settles it then."

"For now." Gabriella conceded albeit reluctantly and frowned Kelsi's unnatural exuberance into silence. The mention of her aunt means that serious matters needed to be explained and discussed. It also seemed a futile effort to persist in asking when Troy showed no signs of indulging her curiosity of his presence, instead she launched to tell him a few things about her suddenly talkative friend. "Kelsi's president of the drama club here in East High, Troy. She's great with music . . . arranging, composing, scoring . . . you name it, she can do it. She'll be attending Julliard when we graduate."

"That's quite an accomplishment, Kelsi." Troy inclined his head at her friend who took it with a gracious nod and a bright smile. "I'm impressed. I have a cousin who has the same passion as you. He's attending Julliard currently." His head jerked toward Emmett who was still talking to a not so happy Jason. "And this guy you hugged? Who is he?" The question was spoken straight to Gabriella as he turned, without pause, as if he wasn't talking to Kelsi at all.

"He's Emmett." Kelsi jumped in once more in a suspiciously cheery voice. "He's the one holding the ropes attached to Gabriella and she didn't hug him, it's the other way around."

"That's Emmett." Gabriella said, shooting Kelsi a quelling glance.

"I see." Troy muttered. He couldn't help throwing an angry look at Emmett. The guy was irresponsible and stupid for endangering Gabriella. Who was he to play with another person's safety like that?

"Do you really?" Kelsi innocently challenged.

"No. Not really." He retorted. "But it doesn't matter what I see or don't. He was careless! Gabriella could've been seriously hurt."

"But she wasn't." Kelsi pointed out, smiling. "Thanks to you."

"I wasn't hurt." Gabriella repeated, laying a hand on his arm. "You saved me, Troy."

He expelled a breath, anger dissipating. "But I still owe you an explanation."

"Yes, Troy, you do."

* * * * * *

For the second time in his life, Troy found himself in a position where he was trying to appeal to the kindness of strangers. It was a precarious position to be in for someone who's not used to asking for favors and one he doesn't particularly relish doing but what choice does he have? Beggars can't be choosers. And right now, he feels like a beggar sitting in the living room of this tiny apartment with Gabriella, Jason, Lucille and even Kelsi—who insisted on coming with them—telling them of his problem, hoping at the back of his mind that they would help him.

This morning his mind was set, his plans were ready to be carried out, then everything was stunted because he failed to anticipate one minor but important detail. Money.

Money makes the world go round and he believes that wholeheartedly, more so in his current situation because without money he won't be going anywhere. He doesn't even have a credit card or his mobile phone where all of his contacts are. He can't call Sharpay or anyone else to fish him out of Albuquerque.

"What do you mean you can't get any money?" Gabriella asked after he finished telling them that what should have been his available cash from his bank account, cash he intended on withdrawing this morning to use for his escape to L.A. and to buy other necessities, was now frozen—restricted, unavailable, or whatever else you may call it—for withdrawal, no doubt per his father's instruction to the bank.

"I think he means, without the money he should have had access to, he's penniless." Kelsi said matter of factly.

"I know what he means." Gabriella ran a hand through her mussed up curls, and is slowly realizing the implications of what Troy just told them. Although, she could not get her mind to grasp the enormity of his situation yet because somehow it's unbelievable to her. When she had been thinking of him earlier, her thoughts did not stretch so far along this possibility. "Do you have any money on you right now?"

"I have some cash left but it won't suffice." He uttered, his face intentionally blank, his tone detached. He looks like someone who's talking about the weather and is bored by it. When in truth, he was in a bit of a disbelief that this is really happening to him. He's never in need of money. Ever. Money has always been accessible whenever needed. "Jason offered to accompany me this morning to the nearest cash machine but when I tried to withdraw, it was too late, my funds were already restricted."

"So I offered to take him back with me, until he could think of something . . . figure things out." Jason piped in after clearing his throat and shifting on his seat, cast a swift look at Gabriella. "Went to East High first 'cause he kept asking about you."

Nodding slowly, forcing herself not to think too much of why Troy kept asking about her as Jason said and asked as evenly as she could muster. "Your father did it?"

Troy nodded, a cold anger flashing in his eyes that was quickly masked before any of them could identify and comment on it. "I should have anticipated he'd do something like this. I should have taken out my money yesterday."

"Why would your father withhold money from you?" Kelsi blurted out, frowning and her eyes shot from Troy to Gabriella who were staring at each other and probably talking with their eyes, to Jason who kept silent, and to Lucille who was sitting serenely across from Troy, her face neutral.

Gabriella sighed. She half turned in the sofa to Kelsi and said, "He's not in good terms with his father." She cast a sideways look at Troy and added, "At least I think, he's not."

With his eyes fixed on her ever since he started his explanation and never once strayed to the other occupants in the room, Troy managed a grim smile. "I'm not." He was trying to read her mind, if possible. He could see confusion, surprise—or maybe its shock—and some other expression on Gabriella's face he couldn't identify. Troy knew the moment she comprehended what he wanted from them but he couldn't be sure if she would be agreeable this time around. He needed her support foremost. It was important that she side with him, reason with him and for him, to her aunt because now that his options are nonexistent she's the only one he knows who can convince Lucille to let him stay, until he can figure a way out of his situation.

A lengthy silence hung in the air. Gabriella was at a loss for words as she finally understood what Troy being penniless meant. Kelsi was trying to grasp what she's heard so far. Jason was about to whistle a bawdy tune, remembered where he is, and quickly clamped his lips shut. Lucille stood suddenly and told Troy to follow her.

Troy did with no dithering, taken by surprise by the abrupt command. No one else dared to follow after them.

They went to the kitchen. Lucille by passed the dining table to stand against the kitchen counter next to the sink and crossed her arms over her chest. Her face no longer expressionless. She looked serious. "Take a seat, Troy."

"I'd rather stand, Mrs. Smarth, if you don't mind." He was having doubts. Unlike his father with his explosive temper, he can guess pretty much what's on his mind by the look on his face, Lucille on the other hand has excellent control of her facial expressions which left Troy in an indeterminate state and to be truthful, nervous as well.

"Suit yourself." She said, then gestured to the table. "Brownies?"

"Excuse me, what?"

"Would you like some brownies? I made these earlier." She pushed off from the counter to sweep off the cover of the tray on the table, showing Troy several squares of brownies waiting to be eaten. "My peers tell me I make good brownies."

"Uhh . . . sure." Not wanting to offend, Troy grabbed one from the pile and smiled uneasily. "Thank you." The woman befuddles him. Not many people do and one way or another he's not the type to really take time to bother. This is a unique case, however. Learning from yesterday's encounter with her, Troy is almost certain she's getting somewhere with this unusual behavior. Either the brownie is meant to put him at ease—although he very much doubts if anything can make him at ease—or it is what it is, a simple offering—and if the thing turns out to be good, it's a consolation after she dismisses him and sends him away. Hesitantly, he took a huge bite of the sweet offering because Lucille seems to be waiting for him to taste it.

"Well? Is it good?"

He finished it off and nodded. "It's delicious!" He said and actually meant it. That was probably the best brownie he's ever tasted and considering the tension coiling within him, for his taste buds to recognize the deliciousness of it says a lot. Even his father's personal chef does not make such a scrumptious brownie but now is not the time for a dessert no matter how palatable.

"Get more, if you like." She offered leaving the brownie uncovered then moved back to lean against the counter.

"Mrs. Smarth," Troy began, swallowing the chocolatey goodness to speak, unable to stand through another moment of suspense. He had a feeling Gabriella's aunt is deliberately subjecting him to a waiting torture because she already guessed he had little patience to go by. "I know I'm asking—"

Lucille shook her head, cutting off further speech from him. "I know what you're asking, Troy." She interrupted. "But I'm waiting for you to get around to actually ask. Last night, you didn't do that. It was Gabriella who did it for you and when you explained yourself out there you merely implied what you wanted from us. And from the way you kept looking at my niece, you want her to speak for you again."

There was nothing in her tone to hint of anger or aggravation. In fact, Troy would go so far as to say, she looked rather pleasant and amused but he was wise enough not to trust her expression. He was quickly learning that Lucille has impeccable control of her thoughts and feelings from outward display. She's also very accurate in what she said, evidence of her perceptiveness, and he could not come up with anything to say for himself. He didn't think justifying his actions by saying—I've never asked anything from anyone. Everything is given to me without question—would win him a glowing opinion from Lucille and a positive outcome of his supplication. So he opted for silence.

Whatever she took his silence for, Troy couldn't say but he was glad she didn't press him for an explanation because he had none, then only to plummet later when she asked, "What has your father done to make you want to get away from him?"

Quickly, he hid his dislike for the query and casually shrugged. "A lot of things." He said vaguely, his tone clinical. "But I hope you'll understand, it's between me and him."

"Perhaps it's not him," Lucille went on as if having not heard him. "But you . . . what you did that makes you want to be free of him, of the consequences, maybe, that he's imposing on you."

"My father—" He began, prepared to say a few words about his father without laying his frustrations out just to placate Lucille's questions. Given that she owns the apartment and he's a stranger who's importuning to stay with them indefinitely, he knows she has rational reasons for interrogating him, but she cut him off.

"Do you drink?" She asked.

Surprised by the sudden turn, Troy answered without thinking. "On occasion and never to an excess. I like to keep control of my head."

"Drugs?"

"Never."

"Jailed?"

"I—" He paused, thinking of the night he spent behind bars in L.A. Then he inwardly cursed himself. That split second of indecision gave Lucille her answer. The woman saw too much to be fooled. It was an admirable trait but right now he can't find anything to admire about it—not if it's sinking his chances of allowing to be lodged here. "It was a misunderstanding. The charges were dropped."

"Uhuh." She murmured and he marveled how that one little sound could relay her skepticism so well. Then she reverted the matter back about his father. "Your father, do you know him well?"

Troy improvised. "I know only what he wants me to know of him."

"So that means you don't know him at all."

He sighed. He was having this conversation whether he likes it or not. Lucille has every right to ask questions. These people maybe poor but unlike what you'd stereotypically expect from others with a similar living condition, they are proud, decent, careful and cultured in their manners—almost as if they're really well-to-do people who have been down on their luck—and for the time being, those are appealing reasons for him to want to stay with them. "He's not a pleasant person to know . . . even for a son." He cobbled together. Then as he heard Lucille make an infinitesimal sound of exasperation at his steady evasiveness regarding his father, Troy realized he was asking too much and expecting just as much from her. In Lucille's shoe, he wouldn't be charitable and he probably would've have denied himself already. At least Lucille is giving him a chance to reveal himself, to give her a reason to trust him. "Endearing isn't a word to describe my father, Mrs. Smarth." He made himself continue. "We've been constantly at odds and I honestly don't remember when our relationship was not strained. I took off because he was controlling my every move and he wanted to send me abroad to finish my studies."

Without commenting on his father's character or his criticizing his own, she asked. "How badly do you think he wants you back, Troy? Bad enough to limit your options?"

"Yes."

"Bad enough to harm the people who will help you?"

Troy straightened. Does that mean she will say yes? Then he recognized the real concern behind the query and answered firmly. "No."

A well shaped brow was raised but all else of Lucille's face remained unreadable. "Are you sure about that, Troy? You just said you don't know him that well. What guarantee do I have that when I let you stay, your father won't harm us to get to you?"

"He won't." He assured with confidence that he's sure she distinguishes. His father maybe controlling, arrogant, difficult to deal with, and some other related adjective but one of the things he's sure about him is that he does not condone violence. Jack prefers battles that require mental sparring than physical. "I know you doubt me—"

"Oh I have many, many doubts about you, Troy." She stressed, speaking slowly as if she were talking to a child. "They're so many I could put them under different headings, state my arguments below each one, and I could even bound them for you—hardcover or paperback—whatever you prefer."

Sarcasm it was, though pleasantly uttered and wisely, Troy did not take the bait. He cannot lose his temper. He should not take offense, he silently reminded himself. "It will be an interesting read, for sure." Briefly, Troy wondered what his father would think of Lucille Smarth. How will Jack react to this pleasant but formidable woman? If ever they are adversaries, he'd be willing to bet his money on Lucille. The thought cheered him a little, untimely it maybe. "I perfectly understand your position, though, Mrs. Smarth. If our roles were reversed, I would have second thoughts about letting me stay as well. It was wrong of me to use Gabriella to intercede on my behalf and I'm sorry for that. The only excuse I have for my actions is desperation and I know it's not a good enough reason for you."

"You're right." She agreed, giving no quarter. "I see desperate people every day, Troy, and be assured, you are not one of them. You look like someone who has always enjoyed exceptionally high expectations in life. Someone whose every annoyance and discomfort, however slight, that had afflicted him is easily dispelled by a large amount of money. And money is anything but a problem for you, until now." She paused, eyes keen on him. "I think, what you are experiencing is a disruption of your smooth, privileged life and for someone like you that's already considered a tragedy."

Lucille was accurate on all counts and he was very sure he never mentioned his background. No one from this family pried him for information either. Did Lucille do a little research on him? Yet, why would she bother? It would've been pointless, unless merely driven by curiosity, to delve into his background when they all know he was supposed to be leaving that morning. To say he was stunned would be an understatement but Troy forced himself to play it cool. He's the one asking a favor but he refuses to relinquish that much power to them. "With your line of work, I don't doubt that, Mrs. Smarth." He smoothly replied and he was proud of the calmness of his tone. "But I'm feeling pretty desperate right now, or at the very least something close to it, and this is—as far as I can remember—the first I've felt this kind of apprehension."

She judged him in silence, gauging the honesty of his words, and she took her time doing it too that Troy was so tempted to fidget where he stood. Humbling oneself is a new experience for him. And, yes, it's a novel feeling when all his life he's never been relegated to a role of supplicant. Finally, Lucille took mercy and spoke. "I will put you out of that desperation then," She let that linger for a full minute—and Troy was wary to assume anything of what she means—before adding, "But I think it's time for that question first, Troy."

"Question?" He echoed dumbly then at her pointed look, followed what she means. She wants to hear him ask. Not Gabriella. Not Jason. Not anyone else. "Mrs. Smarth," He began after a long drawn out breath as if preparing for a difficult undertaking. "I don't mean to impose and I wouldn't want you to think I'm taking advantage of Gabriella or your hospitality but with what happened I have very little choice so I'm asking if . . . if I could stay here while I figure something out to solve my problem?"

"You can stay—"

Troy almost didn't believe what he heard came out of her mouth. He couldn't believe it's as simple as asking to make her agree. Just that and no inflection of sarcasm he was expecting to some extent. Damn, she's a contradiction! "T-thank you." He managed in surprise.

"But let's understand each other, Troy. I don't trust you." She stated implacably but not unkindly. "I'm sure you don't trust any of us either but that's irrelevant considering your position here. Nonetheless, for as long as your stay here, you will abide by my rules. If I see anything—anything at all—that I do not like you doing or saying, I will send you out, no questions asked. Are we clear?"

Troy should've known better than to presuppose Lucille would agree and leave things at that. She had agreed to accommodate him but she was also shrewd enough not to make him forget he's still nothing more than a stranger and his rights in their home is very, very limited. But either way, he understood and could not fault her at all because if their places were reversed he didn't think he'd be as accommodating to an unfamiliar person and especially not when he's financially short of funds. He was quickly learning so much about Gabriella's aunt and he grudgingly admits he already admires her. Meeting Gabriella and her unusual family was a lucky break for him, he decided. He could've ended up meeting someone worse.

"Perfectly clear, Mrs. Smarth." He enunciated.

* * * * * *

"Jesus Christ! Gabriella! He looks like . . ." Kelsi paused in her animated and impassioned reaction, thinking of a word to use to best describe Troy. They withdrew to Gabriella's room and Jason took off somewhere while Troy was having his one on one with Lucille and the discussion took longer than they anticipated. Kelsi was beside herself with excitement over Troy, quite odd of her usually reserved friend, and she had just let up on shaking Gabriella for keeping things from her. "He looks like the Alpha male . . .Hollywood hottie, dream boat, in demand poster boy . . . the big leagues!"

"Out of our league. Way, way out." Gabriella interjected gesturing with a flicking of her hands in the air as she paced next to the bed, trying to restrain her impatience over finding out what her aunt's decision for Troy is. Personally, she's not sure what she wants to happen. She feels like she's floating on limbo. Didn't she make every effort not to think of him this morning? Shutting down every thought to being foolish? Now, there's a wild chance that Troy might actually stay for longer and get better acquainted with her.

It's almost like a typical romance novel plot. Crap! Why the heck is she thinking of novels and romance ones at that?

She's confused. She's wary . . . she's scared and she doesn't know why.

Kelsi followed her back and forth stride with her eyes. "Well, yeah, but as of this time, he's penniless."

"A temporary setback, I'm sure, so whatever it is you're thinking . . . stop." Gabriella paused from her pacing to shot Kelsi a warning look, pushing reason on the forefront of her jumbled thoughts.

Unaffected, Kelsi continued musingly. "He looks extraordinarily loaded, you know. There's something about him, the way he looks and carries himself, that just speaks instantly of money and privilege. How rich is he exactly?" She flopped herself on the futon, settling into a comfortable position. "I mean, I'm a little curious only because we common people don't normally meet or get to associate with those like him."

"I don't know, Kels. I didn't ask and I won't ask. It's not really my concern either."

Kelsi shifted again and twisted behind her. "Do you want him to stay here for longer?" She asked as she lifted the jacket hanging on the backrest of the futon. She spread it open and smirked at an oblivious Gabriella who kept on with her pacing.

"I'm not sure. I like him, you know. He's arrogant probably like most rich people yet he's shown that he can be nice and caring."

"But?"

"But this is like surreal! And what does it matter if I like him to stay or not?" Gabriella exclaimed without breaking stride then abruptly she stopped and moved to the chair of her study table to sit down. "Is he really that desperate to want to settle for what we have here? He hasn't said anything about his social background but I'm sure he's used to the very best luxuries—" Then, she was pulled out of her impatience as she noticed a slip of paper sticking out from one of her books.

"You're digressing." Kelsi laid the jacket over her lap with care, running her palms on the fine material, as though it was fragile and precious. "But if he is indeed that rich, living here—in this area—is like the prince being tossed out of the palace into the streets. No offense though . . . what do you have there?"

Having not heard whatever her friend said, Gabriella slowly turned from her seat and held up the paper to Kelsi. "He left me a note b-before he went off this morning." She sounded in awe, her expression uncertain but her eyes danced with unwilling delight.

Pushing up from the futon and laying the jacket over it, Kelsi took the paper and quickly read. "Oh my . . ." She looked to Gabriella with wonder and a giddy smile then pointed to the futon. "That jacket is his, isn't it?"

Gabriella nodded, able to smile now since her fall earlier. "Yes. He gave it to me. Persistently gave it."

"That's it! I'm eavesdropping." And Kelsi did exactly that, despite Gabriella's for her demand not to, pressing herself against the wall to the kitchen and crouched low on all fours. She could hear Lucille talking in that calm, no nonsense voice of hers and Troy's deeper tone interjecting intermittently.

"You're up for the challenge of taking on a job?" Lucille was asking Troy and Kelsi silently gave a leap of joy at the implication of that question. She was behaving outside of her usual reserve but she suddenly couldn't care less. Someone like Troy to come upon them is a rare occurrence and she doesn't want to miss any moment of it. Gabriella maybe bewildered, but she on the other hand was feeling excited.

"It's the only way." Troy mumbled his reply that Kelsi had to strain to hear, unaware that she's been inching herself toward the kitchen entry and Lucille already saw her shadow slashed across the floor.

Troy continued, intent on going over details of his stay in the apartment, oblivious to the eavesdropper behind him and the wall. "I need help finding a job, though, Mrs. Smarth. I don't know where to look or where to start."

"If you're really up to anything, there are plenty of options available." Lucille moved away from the counter and walked passed Troy. Her black dainty flats stopped directly to where Kelsi was peeking, making the younger girl gasp in surprise and fall backward on her butt. "Kelsi," Lucille said pleasantly furthering her embarrassment at being caught listening in. "do you agree with my decision on Troy?"

Blushing to the roots of her hair and unable to meet Lucille's eyes or Troy's who now stood beside Lucille, Kelsi did her best to utter. "Y-yes, Mrs. Smarth."

"Good. Any suggestions for Troy's employment?"

"I—" She had none, she was about to say, but the front door opened and Chad came in at the same time Gabriella went out of her room. They all looked at her sitting on the floor and at each other for a few seconds before Lucille spoke again.

"He's staying." It was told in general but it garnered differing reactions. Kelsi managed to grin despite herself. Gabriella was equal parts pleased and wary. Chad was irritated and only Lucille's presence kept him from slinging a nasty retort at the presumptuous stranger.

As for Troy, he barely registered Chad's unpleasant expression but kept his eyes trained on Gabriella. He saw the pleasure that lit up her face when Lucille announced her decision to let him stay again, and unbelievably it warmed him with astonishing force. He realized then that apart from Lucille's agreement, he was also craving for Gabriella to approve and be glad that he's not leaving her life just yet.

She held up her hand holding the short note for him to see and, at his jolt of recognition of his hasty parting letter to her that morning, she grinned at him and said with mock disappointment, "Looks like I won't be getting that package of books, huh?"

Still sitting on the floor, Kelsi broke out in unladylike laughter.

* * * * * *