I was starting to get frustrated as I missed another free throw while practicing at Gram Gram's place. After an entire afternoon of practicing, I still missed more shots than I was scoring. I let out a tired breath as I watched another shot miss by a mile.

My forced vacation was not going as well as I'd hoped. It has been four weeks, and there wasn't much improvement in my playing. Chad returned to L.A. two weeks ago to participate in the playoffs, and I was still on forced vacation until further notice. Aside from seeing my family more, there wasn't much of an upside.

As I watched the ball bounce away, I didn't go after it. Slumping onto the ground, I let out a tired groan. Not only did I not have the patience, but I didn't have the energy to keep practicing. I was done.

The Spring breeze felt cool on my sweat-covered body. Pulling my knee closer to my chest, I rested my head. Will I ever be able to play like I used to, I thought. I closed my eyes briefly and pushed all basketball thoughts from my mind.

"I thought you were practicing," Gram Gram greeted.

I picked my head up and turned to her. I scrambled onto my feet and straightened up. "I figured I failed enough for today."

She handed me the ice cream in her hand and nodded towards the back porch. "Let's sit," she suggested.

I shrugged and took the ice cream from her, "thanks, Gram Gram."

We ate in silence for a brief moment, "want to talk about it?"

Gram Gram's x-ray vision was scary. She always knew more than what anyone told her, and no one knew where she got all her information. "My forced vacation isn't going as I'd hoped."

"How so," She asked.

"I came back hoping to rediscover myself and my love for basketball. But my skills are still a cry for help, and I'm getting frustrated on the court." I sighed, "I'm not enjoying basketball like I used to. If I can't even enjoy basketball, I don't know who I am or what I'd do."

Gram Gram was quiet, taking in what I told her. Gram Gram's voice was calm when she finally threw out her suggestion. "If you're not enjoying basketball, why not take a step back and stop forcing yourself?"

"You're kidding, right, Gram Gram," I asked, not finding her joke funny.

But Gram Gram wasn't joking. She had a sincere look in her eyes. Her voice was honest as she spoke. "Maybe what you need is a real break from basketball. There's plenty for you to do around town aside from shooting hoops. Take Sharon on a date and show her around town. You can hang out with your friends; I'm sure your godson would love to spend time with you, and Taylor could use the help. Come by here as often as you like, or do some of the other stuff you youngsters like to do now."

I swirled my partially melted ice cream. "Basketball is all that I am, Gram Gram. All the stuff is great for a real vacation. But I'm supposed to be sharpening what's left of my pathetic basketball skills."

Gram Gram frowned, shaking her head. "I seem to remember when you fought so hard to separate yourself from basketball because you didn't want to be just the basketball guy. If it didn't matter then, why does it matter now?"

I opened my mouth, ready to give Gram Gram an answer, but closed it when nothing came to mind. I didn't have an answer.

Why was basketball so crucial that I couldn't even take a step back to give myself a break? Was it that big of a deal if I did fail at basketball?

I sighed and smiled a little, "maybe it doesn't really matter if I'm the basketball guy or not." I admitted.

Gram Gram nodded her approval that I was starting to get her point, "Take an actual break and give yourself a chance to enjoy other things in life."

I could tell there was more Gram Gram wanted to say. But something was stopping her from saying more. I decided to try asking her again.

"Gram Gram, is there a reason you and granddad have all this stuff packed?"

Gram Gram remained quiet for a moment. "Everyone's life is filled with many chapters. When one chapter ends, another chapter will begin, and your granddad and I just want to be prepared."

I narrowed my brow, trying to figure her out. What is she hiding, I thought; what new chapter?

"Gram Gram, what new chapter are you talking about?" I frowned, trying to follow her logic.

Gram Gram must have noticed the distress. She placed a comforting hand on my arm. "Do worry," She stood up, "new chapters aren't always bad. Sometimes it's just the change that we need in our lives."

Change?

I got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched Gram Gram disappear into the house. What were my grandparents hiding?

Zeke invited me over to his place for lunch the following afternoon. Sharpay and Ryan were out for rehearsals, and with Wildcat Bar closed for the day, Jason was spending the day with Kelsi. He was trying out a new recipe and thought Sharon and I would like to give him a hand.

I was a bit hesitant at first, but Sharon insisted that it was a good idea. It gave us something to do for the afternoon aside from basketball, and we got lunch out of the deal. Not seeing a way out, I agreed.

Zeke was texting someone when we arrived and hadn't noticed when we came in. He finally picked his head up and jumped when he saw us.

"Geez, you two scared me," He breathed out as he tried to catch his breath, and the color in his face slowly returned.

I raised my brow, curious about what was so scary that we couldn't see. "Did you think we were Sharpay and Ryan or something?"

Zeke quickly grabbed his phone off the counter and shoved it into his pockets. "No, I just didn't know you'd be here so fast."

I knew Zeke well enough to know he was hiding something. Why was everyone around me harboring secrets? "Who were you texting?" I tried asking.

"The party planner for Sharpay's party," He answered as he grabbed stuff out of the cupboard. "Just running some ideas for the menu by the planner."

If that was the truth, that wasn't all of it. There was more that Zeke wasn't saying. Before I could ask him, Sharon jumped in.

Sharon glanced around, "so, what are we making, and how can we help?"

"Shredded barbecue chicken and grits." Zeke answered as he grabbed ingredients from the cupboards, "with all three of us, it should be a piece of cake."

Sharon's excitement showed in her bright smile as she shrugged her jacket off. Folding it, she tossed it on the couch with her purse. "Great, where do you want us?"

"Guys…." I tried butting in.

Zeke peeked out from behind the fridge door and remembered I was in the room. "Oh, man, sorry. Why don't you grab some large bowls from the cabinets? Thanks."

Sharon handed me the knife and herbs in her hands, "here, you can start the chopping, and I'll grab the bowls."

Zeke quickly snatched the knife from Sharon, "no, you have not seen Troy's kitchen skills. You give him more than a stake knife; you must have an ambulance waiting."

My mouth dropped open, "my skills aren't that bad."

Zeke set the knife down and cleared his throat. "says the guy who nearly chopped his own fingers trying to chop up vegetables for stew just six months earlier."

Sharon didn't even bother to hold back a snicker. "OK, I know you didn't have the best kitchen skills, but I didn't realize you were that bad."

I dropped my head, "OK, I don't have Zeke's mad cooking skills, but I've improved since. I can chop herbs."

Zeke rolled his eyes and let out a tired sigh. He handed me the knife with a shrug. "Fine, they're your digits, not mine. If you really want to risk them, who am I to stop you."

"Thank you," I stated, taking the knife from him.

I took the herbs from Sharon and prepared to chop. Zeke and Sharon folded their arms across their chest, watching my every move. The eyes on me felt like daggers making the pressure I felt worse.

I picked up the herbs, examining both ends to try and figure out which end I needed to cut first. The glance they shared told me they were expecting my confusion. Rolling my eyes, I randomly picked an end and hesitantly prepared to cut the best I knew how.

My hands started shaking as I got ready to cut into the herbs. The images popping into my head of me trying to chop vegetables six months ago didn't work in my favor. Sharon and Zeke both placed their hand on my arm, stopping before I actually cut into anything. "Stop, this is too painful to watch."

"Man, I can teach you the basics if you want to gain some kitchen skills." Zeke offered, "but not with a knife that will put you in the hospital."

I blew out a raspberry, "fine," I placed the knife on the counter, knowing I was defeated. I put up an annoyed front even though I was secretly happy not to risk any of my fingers. "What am I allowed to do?"

Zeke handed me what looked like a pepper shaker. "Season the chicken with this pepper grinder. Like this," He twisted the top.

I shrugged, "looks simple enough," I took the pepper grinder from him and mimicked what he did.

"Perfect, now just grind it a couple more times," Zeke started greasing the pan, and Sharon grabbed the chicken broth. I twisted the top again and expected more pepper to come out. But nothing came out. I tried again, but it wouldn't even turn. Figuring something might be stuck, I tried shaking it.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed as pepper flew everywhere.

Zeke and Sharon wiped their head around, hearing my exclamation. Their jaws dropped, and I could feel my face turning red. This was so embarrassing. I couldn't even work the pepper grinder. That has to be some kind of stupid record.

Zeke slowly took the pepper grinder from me. "OK, no worries. The pepper grinder isn't for everyone."

I threw my hands up in defeat and headed for the door. "Forget it. Clearly, I can't do anything right."

"That's not true," Sharon stopped me from leaving.

I sighed and gestured toward the counter, "except when I fail and create nothing but a huge mess."

Sharon pulled back towards the counter. "Don't sell yourself short. How do you know you won't be creating something delicious if you don't see it through?"

I paused for a moment and considered what Sharon said. Giving in, I gave them a hand cleaning up the pepper.

"Zeke, have you actually made this recipe before?" I asked later as I was attempting to shred the chicken.

Zeke nodded without looking up from the iPad he was scrolling through before telling me, "I haven't been successful, though."

I frowned as my head sprung up from the chicken I was clearly failing to shred. I could picture the failure now. "That doesn't sound too promising. Why not make a recipe you know you can?"

Zeke looked up from the iPad in his hand. He made a few notes before setting it aside. I let out a frustrated groan when my hands slipped again.

"I can make the recipe; I just haven't gotten it quite right."

That didn't sound any better. "What if it still doesn't work this time?"

Zeke shrugged, "then it doesn't work. We have a nice lunch, and we try again another day."

"And we would have failed," I concluded.

Neither Zeke nor Sharon seemed phased by the idea of failing. Both were happily mixing ingredients. "Chefs try new recipes all the time, and they fail. It's all part of the process."

"How is failing a part of the process?" I gave a hard tug causing a chicken bone to go flying.

THUMP

The chicken slipped from my hand again, causing us all to jump. I could feel my face going red again, realizing I had screwed up again. I am clearly the weakest link here.

"OK, so apparently, chickens can fly." Sharon joked with a snicker.

Zeke didn't bother to hide his amusement. "Good one."

I threw my hand up in frustration at my stupidy. I can't do anything right. "OK, I should step back before we end up with nothing but herbs and barbecue sauce to eat for lunch," I stated, throwing in the towel and heading for the door.

Gram Gram may have wanted me to explore my talents, but clearly, cooking was not my forte. The faster I accept that, the better it will be for everyone.

Zeke knocked the boiling pot on the stove to simmer before racing after me. He wasn't about to let me give up so easily.

"Remember when your dad was teaching us to play basketball," Zeke reminded me, pulling me to a stop back into the kitchen.

I nodded, not seeing the point. "yeah, why?"

"Well, we weren't champions right from the start." Zeke pointed out. "It took time, and we had to practice a lot and keep trying before we finally played as well as we were. Even the most talented person on the planet had a learning period. No one fails forever."

I shook my head, "except me."

"Even you," Sharon corrected me.

"I had trouble shredding chicken the first time I tried, too," Zeke admitted, "But I've learned a few tricks since."

Zeke showed me some of the tricks he'd learn. My nerves were still in a bundle when Zeke gave me another turn. But he wasn't going to take no for an answer. Hesitantly, I took the chicken from him and tried again. I still had a little trouble at first, but once I started getting it, it actually was pretty fun.

"Nicely done," Sharon praised as we combined everything, "and it looked like you were having fun."

I chuckled with a nod, "it was pretty fun." I admitted.

As we waited for the chicken, we helped Zeke with the sauce for the chicken. I wasn't doing much, which probably helped with my nerves. All the nerves and pressure I felt easied away. I could feel my body relaxing as I laughed with them.

The aroma of chicken and barbecue filled the house before we turned the stove off. The smell was enough to make my mouth water with anticipation. Topping the grits with cheese, Zeke stirred it a couple more times before turning the stove off. Grabbing a couple of bowls, Zeke started dishing out the grits as Sharon began to plate the chicken.

"So what will it be to drink?" I asked as I tore into the fridge.

Everyone chose something, and we continued to talk as we ate. My knotted nerves eased as we laughed and goofed on each other. For once, I wasn't thinking about the past or worrying about the future. I was just focused on the present, and it was great. I hadn't realized how much I needed even just five minutes of real fun in my life again or how much I missed it.

"This taste amazing," Sharon comments as she takes another bite of the chicken, "the chicken melts in your mouth."

"Best shredded barbecue chicken over grits ever," I added.

Zeke wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. "It's still missing the wow factor."

"What's the wow factor?"

Zeke shrugged, "no idea. I won't know until I actually make it with the wow factor."

My spirit fell, knowing we had failed. I did my best to hide my disappointment behind my smile. But I must have done a lousy job.

Sharon placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Cheer up. It didn't matter that we didn't knock it out of the park. We still did pretty well and are closer to the goal."

"Yeah, man," Zeke agreed as the alarm warned us of the front gate. "Plus, you did something aside from basketball and had fun. So there were a lot of good even if it wasn't all successful."

I pulled the corner of my lips up into a smile. I was still feeling pretty bummed, but they weren't totally wrong. This was kind of fun once I was able to actually relax. Maybe it really wasn't all bad.

"Babe, I'm back," Sharpay called through the front halls.

"Kitchen," Zeke called back.

"What smells…." Sharpay paused, seeing Sharon.

Sharpay's expression immediately fell, and the atmosphere in the room changed. The light of battle was in her eyes as she set her bag down. The tension in the room made everyone silent.

I decided to lighten the tension in the room. "Sharpay, how about trying the shredded barbecue chicken and grits? It doesn't have the wow factor, but it's still amazing."

Sharpay folded her arms across her chest and gave Sharon a killer look. "No thanks, the cold-hearted homewrecker might have laced it. After all, that's why you're back here, right? So, you can have your way with my husband while he's knocked out."

We nearly choked on our food. Sharon spoke when she was through with her coughing fit, "Sharpay, I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sharpay scrawled, letting out a rough snicker. "Sure, you don't; that's what all the stupid homewreckers say. If Ryan and I hadn't come home earlier than we planned three weeks ago, you would have already gotten what you wanted."

"Uh, honey Sharon wasn't here three weeks ago, and she didn't text me," Zeke reasoned as he placed a calming hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you should sit down and relax."

Sharpay shrugged him off and pulled out a tablet, "really, security says otherwise."

Zeke immediately turned pale with a haunted look on his face. His eyes darted between Sharpay and me as he stuttered with a cracked voice. "Wwwhhat…..ffooottage?"

Sharpay pulled up the footage on the tablet and showed us. "The footage that you erased, and I was able to get back with Taylor's help."

Zeke released a massive sigh of relief as color started coming back to his face, "honey, you can't prove that it's Sharon in the car. The image isn't clear enough. The only thing you can prove is that the car isn't the one that Sharon drives."

Sharpay wasn't done, and she was nowhere near convinced. She was just getting started. I was beginning to wish I had Jason's de-escalation skills.

"She could have borrowed the car from someone else. What we can also see is that whoever it was had waist-length brown hair and fast reflexes. I'm sure Ms. Ballerina over here doesn't exactly have snail pace reflexes. Oh, and the bracelet that she had when Troy introduced her isn't anywhere in the video."

Sharon frowned in confusion, "shouldn't that prove that the woman isn't me?"

Sharpay smirked, "you would like that, wouldn't you? Too bad, three weeks ago, while you were here seducing my husband, you left your bracelet here along with your lipstick. The same color lipstick you're wearing now. Zeke must have returned the lipstick and bracelet you're wearing now to you without me knowing."

"Same lipstick color doesn't prove I was the woman here. Million of women wear the same color lipstick, and I never lost my bracelet."

"Oh, save it for Judge Judy. In the meantime, heed my warning. I'm not going to just sit by and watch while a homewrecker like you takes my husband from me. If you even dare to lay a finger on my husband, I will turn your life into a living nightmare." Sharpay threatened her, emphasizing every word. "Zeke is mine, mine; is that in any way unclear?"

I felt a chill run down my spine as Zeke rubbed the bridge of his nose like he was trying to rid himself of a headache. Sharpay's anger didn't phase Sharon.

Sharon was calm as she spoke again. "Sharpay, I'm not interested in Zeke. Troy's my boyfriend."

I didn't have to protest about that comment. Sharpay was happy to give Sharon her two cents on the idea. "One date and a couple of pitty dates after does not a boyfriend make. It barely makes you friends. The only one who even believes you're Troy's boyfriend is you. And his parents, but they believe every one of Troy's friends who's a girl could be his girlfriend." She added the last part as an afterthought.

I winced at how harsh Sharpay was. It would be nice for Sharon to finally get the idea, but I didn't want to hurt her.

Zeke reached out and covered Sharpay's mouth, "You know what, I think you've said quite enough." Zeke warned, "And you should probably quit before Sharon decides not to be so nice about your accusations."

Sharpay shrugged him off again and placed her hands on her hips, "then who was here that night, and why has she been secretly texting you?"

Sharon cleared her throat and spoke surprisingly calmly, "maybe this is our cue to leave."

I seconded her idea and quickly got up. We quickly grabbed our stuff and ducked out, leaving Zeke and Sharpay to chat.

I stopped Sharon when we got to the car. Surprisingly she didn't look upset at all. Nothing that Sharpay said earlier affected her. She was still her happy-go-lucky self with a warm and friendly welcoming smile.

Our hands brushed, and I felt a jolt. I quickly pulled my hand away and straightened myself. I reminded myself that she wasn't Gabriella.

"Sharon, are you sure you're OK? Sharpay was a little harsh in there."

Sharon shrugged, "I'm not sure I'd be any calmer if the roles were reversed.

I chuckled, "I doubt that. I've known Sharpay long enough to if Zeke didn't stop her, she would've gone postal on you. You, on the other hand…..I've never seen you hurt a fly."

Sharon smiled, and I wondered if I had given her the wrong idea. "So you have noticed me."

I hesitated for a moment before nodding, "just a bit."

"I'm not upset or hurt," Sharon assured me as we took a seat on the car's hood. "The only person who can control what Sharpay thinks or says is Sharpay."

"Sounds like you've dealt with Sharpay's type before?" I noted.

Sharon nodded before she spoke, "I have, and the one thing I've learned is that no matter what anyone else says, it's important to stand by what you know-especially if you know it's right."

I slowly processed what she said. "Like you telling people you're my girlfriend no matter what anyone says."

She fidgets with her bracelet with a distant look in her eyes. I found myself wondering what was on her mind. "I'm not crazy; I know what I'm doing, contrary to what everyone believes."

I blew out a breath. "So, why insist on something that practically everyone else on the planet believes otherwise when we barely know each other."

She shrugged as her smile softened, "I know you, Troy. I know you put your family above all else, and your friends are a close second. I know you're too kind to ever hurt anyone in any way, which is why you were so shattered when your girlfriend ended things. Kindness and loving aside, I know you are smart and reliable, and the list continues."

I remember my one date with Sharon was more like hanging out. After that, all I ever did was attempt to avoid her like the plague while she insisted on sticking to me like glue. I really never gave her a chance. But she'd give me a million and one opportunities; that's why she knows me as well as she does.

Guilt struck me hard. Sharon did know me; she probably knew me better than some of my other friends. I couldn't say the same thing about myself. I didn't know the first thing about her.

I debated giving her a real chance, but my heart immediately ached with sadness. It didn't matter if I wanted to give her a chance; I wasn't ready. If I were, I wouldn't be so sad at the slightest thought of letting go.

I sighed and dropped my head, "sorry, I'm sure you're a great person that anyone would be lucky to go out with. I want to be ready, but I'm not."

"You mentioned before you're still picking up the shattered pieces from your bad breakup."

I nodded, "I have my good and bad days. It's getting better, though."

"That's good to know," Sharon paused for a moment, "I don't want to force you to do something you're not ready for. All I want is one chance. One chance for you to really know me."

We were both silent for a moment letting the silence linger between us. I suggest a compromise after a moment. "How about we start fresh?"

Sharon's brows narrowed together as she studied me. "A fresh start?"

"Yup," I elaborated, seeing that I had her attention. "We'll start with a clean slate as friends, and we will get to know each other. And see where that takes us."

Sharon pretended to consider for a moment, "deal, friends." We shook on it as we both laughed, "so would you like to show your new friend around town, or should we head back to your parent's place?"

"I was thinking of showing you my favorite places for a sweet treat."

"Sounds perfect," she agreed, getting up, "I can go for something sweet."

We hustled into the car. Just friends, I thought to myself; everyone could use a friend. I repeatedly reminded myself that there's nothing wrong with making new friends. It only meant I was inching forward and living my life. As long as I could keep doing so, I would be OK.