Chapter 1

Troy was lying, sprawled out on the couch in Chad's basement. He'd been spending an increasing amount of time at the Danforth's residence. His own father was beginning to be insufferable, and if he had to hear about scouts and being drafted and the University of Albuquerque one more time, he might scream. Basketball season was over. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He couldn't show off on the court any more than he already had, so why keep talking about it. Truth be told, Troy didn't care if he made the basketball team at U of A or any other university. Basketball had always been his dad's sport, not his own. He just played because it made his parents happy. Now he was getting tired of making other people happy whilst he himself suffered.

Chad's father talked about being drafted too. All the fathers talked about it. It wasn't as intense, though. It was in passing. The other dads seemed to understand that it was a long shot, and that no matter how talented their respective child was, there had to be an alternative. Everyone couldn't be an NBA star. Troy wished that his dad would see it too. Troy was barely pushing five foot eleven. Did his father really think he would make it to the top? At Chad's house basketball wasn't the only option. His parents were more realistic.

Besides, basketball wasn't the only thing in Chad's future. It wasn't the only thing he was good at, and his parents knew that. Chad had already talked about graphic design and art. Already, Chad had designed nearly every shirt in his wardrobe, and they were really good! He had a natural skill when it came to font and color and everything related to art and media. Basketball was just his rebound, so to speak. He had an actual plan, and his parents were happy with it. If Troy were to tell his parents that he wanted to major in art (or anything that didn't have to do with sports) they would most certainly not be okay with it. Troy remembered that Chad's mother had once said something along the lines of, Thank God he's not putting all of his eggs in one basket. My baby is actually going to be a productive member of society.

Everyone had laughed at the time, but Troy couldn't help but wish his parents would take the news that he had other ideas for his future as easily as Chad's parents had. Well, maybe his mother would be okay with that news. After all, he was her "one and only baby boy." She would probably be okay with him doing whatever he wanted as long as it didn't land him in jail or end in her being a premature grandmother. His father, on the other hand, would have nothing to do with anything other than basketball. Troy had a snowball's chance in hell of suggesting he major in sociology and psychology, which was really what he wanted to do. Instead it was sports medicine and basketball all the way. His future was becoming that much more bleak as he envisioned a life in sports medicine (or worse, an NBA star constantly on the road and with no one to come home to).

Xxx

Currently, the two boys weren't doing anything exciting. Chad was droning on about a date he'd had with the varsity cheerleading captain Meagan.

"Troy, man you should have seen her. She was all over me. I mean in my lap and everything."

Troy laughed in good humor, "Uh huh. I bet she was. What woman can resist that Danforth magic?" He said sarcastically.

Chad scoffed, throwing his basketball at Troy, "I'm serious. It wasn't two minutes into the date and my hand was up her shirt. She was going at it like crazy." Chad stretched out, his arms supporting his head as he gloated.

Easily, Troy caught the ball Chad had thrown and spun it on his middle finger for several seconds before responding, "Chad, I hate to break it to you, but that wasn't a date." He waited for the words to settle in before he continued. He watched the confusion blossom on Chad's face. Finally, he decided to explain, "That, my dear friend, was a booty call. You were a booty call!" Troy laughed loudly, nearly doubling over at the look on Chad's face. He was sitting there dumbstruck. His mouth hanging open, and his eyes as big as saucers.

"Dude, you are such a liar. I WAS NOT a booty call. I've had booty calls, and that certainly wasn't like anything I've ever experienced. When I just want a quick lay I don't kiss some girl for nearly half an hour. I get her naked as fast as possible and do it doggy style." Chad, much to Troy's dismay, demonstrated the position.

"Chad!" Troy screamed, " I don't want to see that! I don't want to know about your sex life, and I don't want to hear about your make-out session with Meagan." Troy groaned loudly, "But that's how girls do booty calls. They like all that stuff that leads up to sex. The fact that you got her in bed, or rather she let you get in bed with her, on the first date, clearly means it was a booty call. She wasn't hot for you. She was just hot in general. She needed a good release, and apparently you were good enough. I must say," Troy added, "she has some low standards."

It was Chad's turn to laugh, "You're just mad that girls always choose me over you. Can't help it that all the girls want me."

"Please, Chad. You get my left-overs," Troy smirked, watching another hilarious expression glint across Chad's face before he recomposed himself, ready to deliver the next quip.

"First of all, as disgusting as it is to think about, and I can't believe I've never thought about it before," Chad rambled, "we swap girls all the time. You get just as many left-over girls as I do. By the way, we need to stop hooking up with the same girls. Just thinking about it freaks me out," he visibly shuttered.

"Chad," Troy redirected the conversation, "you said first of all, which leads me to believe you had a second point. Wanna elaborate?"

"Oh yeah," Chad focused, " Second, I KNOW I've had more girls all over me than you EVER have. Hell, I know I've even kissed more girls than you have."

Troy glared at Chad seriously, "Chad, it is impossible," he enunciated the word and let it fill the air before he finished the sentence, "I mean impossible that you have kissed more girls than I have."

Chad scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was staring at Troy like he had just called his mother a whore (or worse…sexy), "Dude," Chad began diplomatically, "look at me and look at you." In turn he pointed to himself and then to his friend occupying the nearby recliner, " Pretty sure God was in a better mood the day he created me. He saddled me with all the looks and all the lady lovin'."

"Lady lovin', Chad. Seriously? Girls are way more interested in me than they will ever be in you. Besides, God wouldn't have given you hair like that if He was happy."

"Dude!" Oh no. Troy had insulted the hair. "I rock this hair. I love it. Girls love it." Chad crossed his arms childishly, "You're just jealous. You have the hair of a shaggy dog."

Troy laughed. He couldn't believe they were actually having this conversation. He sighed, "Whatever man. Let's just drop it."

"That means I won," Chad grinned before standing up to do a victory dance that consisted primarily of him shaking his butt in Troy's face. The dance ended abruptly when Troy kicked him. Chad stumbled and landed back on the couch, thoroughly immersing himself into the video game he had neglected during their discussion.

Troy shook his head, but didn't argue with Chad's idea that he had won their silly argument. He knew that Chad had not kissed more girls than he had. It was a fact. Chad kissing more girls that Troy Bolton. That was farcical. Chad just thought he had because he bragged about every girl he got to kiss. He sort of treated girls like play things. Once he was bored, they were tossed away like a forgotten teddy bear. Troy, on the other hand, had only told Chad about the girls he would be particularly interested in hearing about. They were the cheerleaders and the gymnasts and the older girls. They were the girls Chad himself would like to make-out with. Troy never gave Chad too much information about what had transpired between himself and said girl. He just talked enough to peak Chad's interest and earn himself some props. Other than that, Chad didn't know about any of the other girls Troy had kissed. He kept the special intimacies to himself. In fact, he remembered one kiss specifically that he had not shared with anyone, Chad especially. He wouldn't have understood. He still wouldn't understand.

This kiss was different, though. Possibly because it wasn't a kiss at all. It was just a fantasy he had. On and off since the eighth grade, which, consequently, was the same year he and this girl had both gotten their braces removed, he had imagined kissing her. Chad wouldn't understand his fascination with this girl. She wasn't popular, and she wasn't older. She was just herself. She was easily one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, though. Troy could admit that. No one else would admit it, but Troy knew that half of the male population of East High wanted to kiss her. She was shy and unsure, which made her oddly appealing, but the most appealing thing about her was that she had never kissed anyone before. It was common knowledge. Nerdy Gabriella Montez had never even had a boyfriend.

Troy remembered the first day he had realized how much he liked her. It was a quiet realization. He had seen her struggling at her locker to get it open. It was the first day of school. Everyone was having a bit of trouble, because before eighth grade, their lockers had been secured with locks opened by keys. Now they had to turn the lock's dial to the right, and then to the left, and then to the right again, all the while making sure to stop on the appropriate numbers. Troy recalled thinking it strange that the smartest girl in class couldn't get her locker combination entered properly, but he approached her nonetheless. He'd helped her open it easily, previously mastering his own combination. She had blushed and said thank you. Then, their fingers brushed when Troy was handing Gabriella her lock. From that moment on, he was hooked. There was just something about the pretty, quiet girl who sat at the front of the classroom and usually ate lunch alone. He had watched her from afar since then, admiring her beauty and committing every smile he saw from her to memory.

Two years after the insight that Gabriella Montez meant something to him, and two years ago as well, Troy had the unusual opportunity of spending time with Gabriella. He had even tried to kiss her. He wanted desperately to kiss her. He was still unsure as to why she had thwarted his efforts. Most girls didn't usually do that to him. But then again, Gabriella wasn't like most girls. She was a geeky genius with immeasurable beauty and amazingly pink, amazingly pouty lips. No one knew who the lucky guy would be who got to give Gabriella Montez her first kiss, but since that night, Troy wanted nothing more than to feel her mouth working against his own.

Xxx

Troy didn't particularly like parties. They were all the same, and this one was no exception. It didn't matter who threw the party. There was always going to be warm alcohol, stale chips, and easy girls; there was always going to be someone crying, usually a girl, because she found her significant other making out with some random (or maybe not so random) third party; and there was always going to be someone passed out drunk. Troy had been to parties thrown by cheerleaders, parties thrown by jocks, parties thrown by rich kids, and parties thrown by college kids. There was never anything new. The most amusing thing he could recall from any party was when Ryan Evans found six football players in the pool wearing his hats. Ryan had screamed like a little girl then proceeded to list the prices of each hat, mentioning how much more expensive they were than any of the football players' entire wardrobes. Ryan had even threatened to call his lawyer and file a police report.

That was only once, though. All other parties were about as lame as this one. He liked Zeke. He was a good guy and a hell of a basketball player, but his parties didn't rival anyone else's. Troy wasn't surprised. He knew what he was getting himself into the moment Chad had coaxed him into attending. Looking back, he didn't even know how Chad had done it. His logic was vastly askew. He told Troy it was his "duty as basketball captain" to be at any and every party thrown by anyone who had a real standing in the social chain that was high school.

Chad and Troy had arrived at about the same time, and for a while the party wasn't so bad. They had goofed off immensely, but soon enough Chad disappeared. That left Troy to his own devices. Too bad he had no good devices to be left to. So far he had danced with three girls, beat Jason at one-on-one, ate an entire bag of chips, AND crashed an "intimate moment" that was about to happen in Zeke's parents' bedroom. Really, there was nothing left to do.

Troy wondered aimlessly until his eyes fell upon an especially intriguing brunette sitting alone on a love seat. This girl was, without a doubt, one of the most socially awkward people in high school. Seeing her at a place like Zeke Baylor's living room was so far from normal that she might as well have been a nun at a strip club (and not as one of the performers). Troy watched her for a few moments. She was wearing her usual clothes. She hadn't bothered to dress up, and she was picking at a string on her blouse. She wasn't wearing much make up if any at all; her hair was down, though. That was a change. She usually wore it in a messy ponytail. Troy found himself smiling. She looked even prettier with her hair down.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea why he couldn't get this girl out of his head. It had been two freaking years. What was so special about her? Troy had to stifle a chuckle as he answered the question for himself. Who wouldn't be interested in a girl who could do quadratic equations in her head? Finally, he stopped admiring her innocent splendor and approached her.

"Hey," Troy watched as she jumped. She looked up, her brown eyes shining with fright. "Sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to say hey." He sat down beside her.

She nodded at him, offering a slight smile. It took a her a few seconds, but finally she responded with a simple "hi."

Gabriella bit her inferior lip (in a way that Troy could not help but find enticing) and looked up at him, "Enjoying the party?" Even her voice was pretty. She was quite possibly the cutest thing he had ever seen.

Her whole aura was making it difficult for Troy to play it cool. This wasn't a normal problem he encountered with girls. Usually everything just flowed. Now he was having to fight for the courage to find words, "Eh," he settled with, "you know." Troy realized how stupid he sounded as soon as he said it. He also sounded like a huge jerk. His words had made it sound like he was trying to blow off her casual attempt at conversation.

As he looked over at her, however, she didn't seem to notice. She was staring at him with timid expectation. Clearly, she didn't know what his answer had meant.

Troy let out a soft laugh, "I mean, the music is all right, the food isn't awful. It's okay. No worse than any other party, and if you've been to one you've been to them all."

It wasn't until Troy took note of the gentle silence that settled around them that he became aware of the fact that it was his turn to ask her a question.

"How do you like the party, Gabriella?" he had been itching to say her name. It tasted so sweet on his tongue. He wanted to say it over and over again.

She smiled at him beautifully, before looking down at her lap, contemplating how she would answer his simple question. He didn't understand what she had to think about. It was the same question she had asked him. She turned back to him, her voice as soft as her smile, "My mom made me come. She was talking to another mom at the supermarket, and apparently her daughter came to the party tonight too. That's why I'm here," she giggled, "It was my mom's idea. C'mon, why else would nerdy Gabriella be at a basketball player's party?" She bit down fully on her pouty lip and looked away.

Boldly, Troy pushed a strand of hair out of her face, "I'm glad you're here, Gabriella."

She was silent and they both stared at each other. At last Gabriella spoke. Troy could hear her words tremble, "I…I didn't know that you knew my name."

Troy's fingers were still lingering behind her ear. He played with her curls. Her hair was silky. It surprised him that it could be so curly, but his fingers could slide through it like water, "Of course I know your name. You're special, Gabriella." He couldn't stop saying her name.

They were facing one another. Somewhere during their conversation Gabriella had tucked her legs beneath herself, making it a bit easier for Troy in unconsciously scoot closer to her without bumping knees. They were so close to one another now that Gabriella could feel Troy's warm breath on her face as he spoke, and they were so close that Troy could feel her tremble next to him.

Troy pressed his forehead to Gabriella's. He watched her eyes flutter, alternating between seconds of being closed and seconds of being open. When her eyes were open Troy saw in them something he'd never seen before. She looked so scared, but there was a sparkle that begged him to lean in just a bit more. When her eyes were closed she just looked so amazing. She looked like something out of a dream, something too good to be true.

Just as his lips were about to join with Gabriella's, her eyes opened and she jumped back. He had never seen someone blush so deeply. Quickly, she kissed his cheek, "Thank you for sitting with me, Troy, but I have to go now."

Troy didn't even have time to respond before she was off the love seat and headed towards the stairs. Once it registered to Troy what had happened he too was racing up the stairs. She was quite a few steps ahead of him, but he could hear her on the phone. She was asking her mother to come get her. Troy wanted to stop her. He didn't want her to leave yet. He didn't want her to leave ever, but before he could tell her this, she was in the bathroom. Troy heard the lock click, but he stood by the door for a few more seconds. He heard her speaking.

"Please, Mom. I don't want to be here anymore. I came just like you asked me to. Now please come get you," there was a pause before he heard Gabriella sigh and continue, "No, I'm not having fun. I locked myself in the bathroom."

At this, Troy heard her voice crack. She was beginning to cry. He didn't listen any longer. He didn't want to hear her cry, but most of all he didn't want to hear her talk about how awful it was, because, for him, this party was the best one he had ever been to. He had spent time with Gabriella Montez.

Xxx

Troy could remember everything about that night. He remembered that Gabriella had smelled like vanilla, and now he couldn't smell it without imagining her sitting so close to him, eyes closed. He remembered that her fingernails had chipped purple nail polish on them, and she had a little ring with a heart on it on her pinky finger. It looked like it had come from a gumball machine. Most of all, he remembered going home. That night, as he lay in bed, he had softly chanted her name over and over, tracing his fingers across where her lips had been, until he fell asleep.