Title: A Chaotic Mess of Pastels
Author: Me!
Rating: I'm not too sure about the new rating system but I would say this is about…PG-13.
Feedback: I'd love me some it!
Summary: Troy Bolton finally has life all figured out as his junior year wanes. However, his perfect world is in jeopardy as he discovers his past.
Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Breathing" by Lifehouse. I own not High School Musical or the songs or Zac…but if I did…heheheh. Wow! I don't own much. Wait! I do own Adele Carson!
Prologue
A chaotic mess of pastels, pinstripes, and logos erupted from her closet, fluttering to the ground. He stepped inside of the room, forgoing his leaned position against the doorframe. She needed him. He understood that; he understood her. She was frenzied at the thought of returning to that unsure world of hospital visits, doctor consultations, and the unknowing possibilities of surgery. He would have stayed out of her way. For now.
But 'now' was over with and she was crumbling fast. Lifting his arm, he wrapped it around her waist, ceasing her flailing. He laid his head on her shoulder as he placed his left arm across her upper chest. "It will be all right. She will be okay. Calm down. You don't need all those clothes. You're just staying the night."
His whispered words settled her frayed nerves. Staring at the floor lost, she rested her head against his. A butterfly kiss on her shoulder stopped the world from not making sense. "Right," she straightened herself up to perfect posture and went about collecting her things for an overnight stay.
As they walked out of her house, he made sure that the shell of the young woman he was walking with knew he was there for her. He brushed shoulders and faintly touched her soft fingers. The black SUV that was his father's was parked in the driveway. His dad leaned across the passenger seat to unlock the door but he shook his head 'no'. Neither he nor this extraordinary girl would be seated in the front alone.
Once situated in the back, they held hands, interlaced and tightly gripped. This was her constant. He was her constant and it made him all the more secure as he rubbed the ring on her right ring finger which was truly – secretly – meant for the left equivalent. Nothing was set in stone but he knew what it meant. She knew what it meant to him.
Throughout the somber trip to his home, he whispered words of encouragement. Staying strong and waiting until the final word was all that he could offer for now. But he knew that 'now' wouldn't last much longer.
She continued her life on mute.
She remained quiet through dinner, which was normally their time together, as a potential future family, to talk with the ease of a breeze. Yet, the breeze had grown sharp and biting, nipping at their skin and, in particular, her heart. Once the tension was too much to bear, she silently went off to the guestroom she knew and locked herself away. He sat outside her door until he heard the lock unclick.
"How long have you been out here?"
"For as long as you needed me," His smile warmed her thoughts.
"I wish I could-"
He quieted the blame with his patented 'sweet kiss' that she adored oh-so-much.
"Oh. I need to shower. Listen out for the phone?" Her voice quavered yet she reined in the hopelessness.
"As if I would be doing anything else?"
He watched her cautiously shuffle towards the bathroom; he saw the bravest woman he knew…besides his mother and grandmother.
As the night settled deeper into stillness and he in his bed staring at the swirled ceiling patterns, he vaguely heard the door open. She was there, finally accepting the desire to be near him. To let him take care of her.
"Troy?"
He sat up. In the full moon's light he saw her Wildcats pride T-shirt and black shorts. "Yes."
"Can I stay with you?"
"Keep the door open." He didn't want his parents worrying about the things they did behind closed doors. That was for them – and only them to share with each other in thoughts and actions.
She knew the drill. "And I under the covers."
Thankful for New Mexico climate, for he was dressed in typical grey shirt and boxers night attire, Troy lifted the covers for her to climb into as he laid atop the navy blue comforter. He tucked the blanket around her as she fluffed up his pillow. They settled into a comfortable position where she could easily speak to him if the need arose. He stroked the side of her face and brushed back her hair.
"You will be okay. It will all turn out right."
"And you know this how?"
He pressed the pad of his thumb to the crease in her forehead. "She went into remission once before, she'll go back again."
"What if she doesn't? What if my sister has it again? What if they find out it's her cancer all over again? What if it is a tumor? What if it has moved around? What if I become selfish and don't want to stay here? What if I can't go to that performing arts school in New York City?" She ticked off her fears.
"Well, I would be the happiest man if you stayed." He kissed her nose, which she wrinkled in protest.
"Oh, Mr. Troy Bolton, don't kiss me there." A grin tugged at her lips. "Or I shall kiss you here." She pecked his chin.
"Then what will be will be. You'll go to that school whatever happens. Cancer be damned! You'll light up Broadway!"
She sighed. "I couldn't. I would feel horrible leaving my family behind, living it up in New York, doing plays, being without you." She whispered.
They leaned their heads close together, hands finding familiar strength and comfort from their love's counterpart. "You'll never be without me. This should prove that." He meant the ring that he was indebted to his parents. He wouldn't see an allowance for another year.
Well worth the wait.
"I love you," She murmured.
"I love you too." They settled into a hush.
Out of habit, he began to hum their song – one of two. He eased into the verses of the melody.
"I am hanging on every word you say.
And even if you don't want to speak tonight,
That's alright, alright with me.
'Cause I want nothing more than to sit outside heaven's door
And listen to you breathing
Is where I want to be."
His voice soothed her more. The memories attached to that song soothed her more. "What an amazing voice."
"No," he laughed, "that's you with the talent."
She moved closer to his chest, pressing close to him. "Will my sister make it?"
"She has to. I refuse to let her be in harm's way. I still have a game of basketball to play with her."
His girlfriend laughed. The sweetest of sounds.
She yawned. "It will all be just fine."
"Yes it will."
And so it was benign.
And so life moved on. Summer began with great hope and faded to deep fear. The day of her leaving was upon them. She came over to his house to watch the sunrise and eat breakfast. They spent time talking and saying nothing. She went home with his family to a celebratory lunch at her house.
"And now I'm off," Her voice was steady as her eyes shimmered with the ghost of the pain she was hiding.
"Not for good." Though they both knew the reality of it all. Two different time zones. Two different schools. Too different of lives.
"Right. Not for good."
They embraced in the tightest of holds – in the most passionate of kisses. "Tell Chad I'll miss him."
"Will do," He squeezed her to his chest. "Call when you land?"
"As soon as."
He pressed his lips to her ear. "I love you so much."
"I love you so much." She echoed. Placing a kiss on his chin, she climbed into her family's car, luggage in tow.
He signaled to roll the window down. She complied. How could she ever deny Troy?
Troy kissed her nose. "See you soon."
And so he watched the car ride down the street, fade from view, and from his life. He was vaguely aware of his parents' presence. What was he to do know? Continue with the new school year – sophomore year. Continue with basketball. But how was he to continue on in his everyday life when the one who made it worthwhile, the one who made it sparkle, the one who gave it substance was gone? A part of him was leaving Albuquerque, New Mexico along with the love of his life: Adele Carson.