I don't know how much longer I can take.
I've been sitting on this letter for over a week now and I don't know what to do.
"Gabriella, just go talk to him," Blair pushes me to do so, "it's going to work out. He liked you then, he probably likes you now. I mean, you still do. Feelings that you didn't even get to explore, when you guys were THAT close, just don't go away. So don't worry too much about it."
"Yeah, Gabs, I'm sure it'll all be fine," Madison agrees her with her.
But I'm still freaking out.
I read the letter, I understood the letter, I felt everything he felt and it felt so good. It meant I no longer had to regret the kiss. It meant we were on the same page about this. I liked him, he liked me and it was just the wrong timing. But now, he's here and everything just feels different. It doesn't feel like there might still be something there. I don't know if it's because half the time he's been here, I've been standoffish. I don't know. I know there are still feelings on my end, though, and it would be great if he still felt everything, that we could just forget everything.
Let's be realistic here, though. We could talk things out, maaaaaybe try things out, but it could very well not work.
And right now, I don't know if I should try to salvage our friendship or try being more than friends. I know we work well as friends.
I know being friends with him is amazing.
What I don't know is how being in a relationship with him is. I don't know if it'll be worth ruining a friendship we can probably salvage. I don't know any of it and it's scary. What if things don't work out? Not only would it not have worked out, but we would have ruined the friendship we once had if we got it back.
At this point, though, I know I need to try. I can't not know if there's something here between us.
I've waited years.
And it's right here at my fingertips, with this letter...
"I'm just trying to decide if I should work on salvaging a friendship since I know being friends with him is so great, or should I try being more than friends?"
"Yeah, that's tricky," Blair agrees, taking a sip of her Starbucks drink, "you were friends with him for so long that if a relationship doesn't work out, I mean, it'll be so hard to just go back as is so imagine after a failed relationship? I get it."
Madison shrugs, "but you waited so long. Does it even matter if you guys are friends anymore? You should know if something's there."
Both good points.
I just really don't know where exactly my head's at.
More so, I want to talk about the letter and I want to explore that because these feelings for him as a friend changed to more and it was so intense for me that I'm not sure I can just ignore it when I have the opportunity to tell him. And then again, being friends with him for the rest of my life and nothing more would be a guarantee if we never talked about our feelings. So, that seems like a good thing.
"Just go for it," Madison encourages, "you're going to regret it. And if you guys become friends again, and those feelings are still there, it's only going to get more complicated. Right now, you guys have no real friendship, so it's the perfect time to jump in there and figure it out."
"True," Blair nods, "really true."
Hmm, Madison's right. She's absolutely right. I should jump right in there.
Ahhh. I'm going to do it. I'm going to talk to him.
And I'm absolutely terrified about it.
I'm not really in the mood for a party.
And until 20 minutes ago, I was at home, snuggled up with some ice cream, a blanket and an episode of Grey's Anatomy.
But now, I'm standing in front of Tim Sherwood's house, wondering if this is a good idea.
Kylie and Blair begged me, though, saying to come for a little bit because it's so much fun. The vibe was good, the crowd was even better, blah blah blah. Madison went to LA for the weekend with her family for her cousin's wedding so who else was I going to hang with?
Whatever. One hour, tops. And then I'm out of here.
As I made my way to Tim's front door, it swung open, scaring me a bit.
And out walked Troy Bolton. He stopped as soon as he saw me, almost like a deer caught in headlights. And I mean, I stopped, too. It's been so weird between us and none of us know how to act.
"Sorry," he says, I think because he thinks he's in my way.
"No, you're fine," I tell him.
He looks at me for a moment and then looks away, moving to the side, "go ahead…"
Before I take a step forward, I try to strike up a conversation with him. I need to talk to him. I want to talk to him. Just not maybe at a party. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah," he says, taking his keys out of his pocket, "it sucks."
"Oh, that's not what I heard," I tell him.
"Okay," he says, taking a step back, but making sure he doesn't fall backwards off the stairs, "well, then have fun."
That's it? That's all he's giving me?
Granted, I was a bitch to him. I made it seem like we couldn't ever be friends. But this letter. I have this letter now and I can't ignore it. I can't pretend like I didn't read it. I can't unread what he wrote to me. It's all too much. And I really, really want to talk to him about it.
If it has to be here, then so be it. "Why are you being so cold?"
"What?" He immediately turns around and repeats my question to me, "why am I being so cold?"
"Yeah," I shrug, "the last few times I've tried to talk to you, you've been so… icy."
"Icy," he laughs at my selection of words. But then he gets serious for a moment, "are you being serious right now? You don't want to be friends with me? What do you want me to do, greet you with enthusiasm every time we run into each other? I got your message loud and clear, Gabriella."
Okay. I can't be mad at that.
But I can be hurt. And that's exactly what I am right now. I'm just hurt.
I get why he did everything and I understand it and I accept it and I've come to terms with it. It's fine. I forgive him, one hundred percent. I'm hurt, though, because I feel so much for him and I don't know if it's going to be okay. I really don't know. And to be honest, tomorrow, when my family was going to be out, I was going to go over and talk to him. Show him this letter that I've been carrying around with me for the past week and a half. And I was going to lay everything on the table.
But we're having a conversation, here in front of Tim's house, and I can't hold it in any longer.
"This whole situation is fucked up and I don't know how to fix it."
"Well, me neither!" He practically screams, "I don't know what you want from me. I've told you so many times that I'm sorry!"
And that's when I pulled out the letter that I've carried around with me as long as I've had it. I gave it to him.
"I want you to tell me why you never gave me this."
He hesitates to take it, probably recognizing it, and then carefully takes it out of the envelope. I watch him scan over it and then he looks up at me with his bright blue eyes that I love so much, "where did you get this?"
I push some hair back behind my ears and sigh, "I stole it from your room and I'm sorry."
"Why were you in my room?"
"That's not the point right now," I tell him a bit frustrated that that was the first thing he thought about saying. Does it not even matter anymore, that's why? "I want to know why you didn't send me this letter. Why you let me believe for three years that you just didn't care."
He took a step closer to my, outlining the letter with the tips of his fingers, "I thought about giving it to you everyday for two weeks, after I rewrote it so many times."
I couldn't help, but feel giddy over that. He wanted it to be perfect.
"And then what?"
"And then I guess I just chickened out," he tells me.
"But you knew me, Troy, you knew me better than anyone else!" I argue.
He looked a bit confused. "So?"
So?! Ugh. "So, you knew it wasn't a mistake. You knew I didn't mistakenly kiss you one night."
"That was the scariest part!" He practically screamed, taking me back a bit. Not in a scary, angry way, but in a frustrated way. Like he wanted nothing more than to get his point across. "To know that you could like me the way I liked you, it would... it would ruin everything. And I knew by not talking to you, it was ruining things, too. But I thought our friendship was so strong that maybe one day it could be the way it was that I didn't know if this letter was worth it. Maybe you'd hate me more or whatever if I ruined our friendship over it. I didn't think it was a mistake for you, but I don't know everything, maybe you realized it was a mistake afterward. Maybe you thought about it everyday for two weeks like I did and unlike me, you realized there was nothing there. Maybe your feelings would change..."
"No!" It's my turn to yell, "and I hate that you would think that. You could have talked to me about anything and we could have figured it all out."
"And instead, I shut you out."
I had to look away for a moment because I could feel the tears start to form. He liked me. He really, really liked me. And I liked him. And if would have just talked about things, maybe this could have been different. "Those three years were so hard, Troy, you have no idea."
He shook his head, "they were just as hard for me."
"I don't know what to do, I can't unread that letter. But I get it. I understand why you did what you did and there's no more anger there..."
"What if I had sent the letter, then what?" He asks me, stepping a bit closer.
I didn't even think about that. What if he did? It would have been the same. I still wouldn't have seen him for three years. But talking to him as more than a friend over the phone, over text without seeing each other in person to figure it out would have been so weird and so uncomfortable.
So, I guess I'm glad he didn't send that letter.
"I'm not sure," I tell him, "but I found it. And I am dying... I'm dying to know if you still mean everything."
"Maybe there's only one way to find out," he takes a step closer.
What?
Right here, right now, he's going to... kiss me?
I don't know what to do, I don't know how to act. I'm so nervous. I'm nervous everything I've played up in my head will be gone the minute his lips touch mine. What if it was all just a stupid fantasy and I feel absolute nothing? I've wasted so much time and energy and anger over this. But what if it's great? Ahhhh.
Is our first real kiss really going to be on Tim's front lawn, when there's a party going on in the back?
Right now, I don't even care.
This is going to happen, right here, right now and I'm absolutely ready for this. I've replayed this moment so many times in my mind.
Troy comes as close as he possibly can to me and I take a small deep breath.
Before I know it, his hand is pushing away the hair in front of my face and tucking it behind my ear. We're face to face and he's looking me in the eyes so deeply that it's almost intimidating. But I love every second of it. I love the way he stares at me. He's making me feel like I'm the most beautiful girl.
I give him a small smile, he gives me one and then he cups my face with both of his hands.
And then we kiss.
He places he lips on mine ever so gently.
It's way better than I ever imagined. It's better than that time I kissed him for five seconds. It's better. It's so much better.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he moves his arms down to my waist, pulling me in closer. I deepened the kiss because I needed more. I wanted more so badly. I've waited so long for this and it's everything and more.
This is what it's like kissing my best friend. It's perfect. It's sweet. It's mind blowing. It's nerve wracking. It's beautiful. It's so many wonderful things.
And I want to keep doing it.
I pulled apart and I couldn't help, but think about where we were. We were kissing.
When I was 10 years old and I asked my grandma if Troy could come shopping with us, she said yes. And then she asked why I didn't ask Julie, my cousin, because maybe Troy would be bored. I told her we were best friends and I wanted him there with me. And I very distinctly remember her telling my grandpa that she knew one day sooner or later, I was going to like him and it was going to be this different thing. And I was so taken aback by it. I loved hanging out with him so I never stopped but I thought it could never happen. He was my best friend! And for the longest time, until that one night when he called my beautiful, it was nothing but friendship. I never thought about when we were older that it might be this or that. I just enjoyed his company as my best friend and that's all. I didn't want it to be anything more than friends because it worked so well. And my grandma scared the crap out of me so everyday I made sure we were just the best of friends.
Now, we're here. We're kissing. And feelings things.
"I still mean everything," he tells me with the most sincere look in his eye. The look he gave me the night he called me beautiful.
"You're always going to be my best friend," I tell him, moving my arms from around his neck to his chest, where I laid them there, "you know that right?"
He nods, "two in one. Nothing better."
I smile at him, tears almost forming in my eyes because I loved this moment so much.
I've waited for this moment. I've fantasized about this moment and it's here. It's finally here and it's happening. And I'm crazy to think I can lose my best friend over this. We can still be best friends. We can be more than friends and best friends all in one. And there is nothing better than that, like he said.
"Are we really doing this?"
"I want to," he tells me, pulling me closer as he wraps his arms around my waist again, "we've waited long enough, right?"
"Yes," I whisper, barely able to hold it together. "We did."
He gives me a smile and then leans in once again and kisses me. And I will never get over it.
His kisses.
They're everything and more.
And I couldn't be happier right here, right now.