ShoOting StArs WiLl LaNd
It was early that next morning when the rising sun found Troy Bolton out back. Dressed simply in a pair of shorts and a jersey, Troy slipped on his black glove via using his teeth and wheeled himself down the newly installed ramp just outside the sliding back door. Once on even ground, he made his way over to the basketball hoop in front of him then looked back down in his lap at his favorite basket ball. He was going to at least try. It wasn't going to hurt anybody none.
Securing the breaks on the wheels, Troy positioned himself perfectly aligned with the hoop and sighed. His left arm hadn't regained perfect strength since the accident, but he knew it was getting better with each day. Yet he also knew that his left hand was very lazy nonetheless before the accident had ever happened. Either way, it didn't hurt to try.
Bracing himself for a possible thrash, he raised the ball onto his left hand and looked at the hoop for a while, thinking about his best alternatives. The best way to make it. Unfortunately, Troy wasn't so sure if he could fling it that far with one hand.
"Okay..." He closed his eyes and counted. "One...two...two and half...two and three quarters...three!" Troy flung the ball towards the hoop to the best of his ability. Yet he sighed when saw that he was so far off that it didn't even have a chance to make it into the net.
Frustrated, Troy sighed and laid his head back, closing his eyes. He didn't think he would make it...but there had been such a sure chance...so much so that it made him think twice about trying again.
"You missed."
Troy's head snapped back up and was surprised as ever to see Taylor McKessie standing just three feet away with his run away ball. "Yeah..." He smiled and tried to make a joke out of it. "I guess I did, huh?"
Taylor was dressed simply for the weekend as well, ponytail and all. She walked over to him, turning the ball over and over in her hands. She seemed to have been thinking hard. And this made Troy think about Chad.
"So can I help you with something?" Troy held his hand out to retrieve the ball back from Taylor. She finally looked at him while handing the ball over.
"I wanted to talk."
"Yeah?" Troy aimed for the hoop again. "What about?" He took a shot. Missed again.
Taylor caught the ball and tossed it back to him. "Chad."
Troy's breath almost caught in his throat. He fingered the basketball in careful strokes of his finger, looking down and thinking hard before her answered. "Yeah? Why?"
"He told me that you have been really cross with him lately."
Hardly believing his ears, Troy tossed the ball out of anger more than anything else that time around. "He said what?"
Taylor grabbed the ball again. "That you were mad at him and said some thigns that shouldn't have been said." She paused and looked at him before handing the ball back over. "He wasn't too happy."
"Yeah, well, neither am I, if you can take a hint," Troy left the ball on his lap and stared hard at Taylor. "Because for as far as you know, he's not telling you the whole story. Only pieces that you want to hear so that he can make me look worse than I already am." He paused. "Trust me, he's trying and he's doing a fantastic job at it."
Taylor fell silent for a moment. "Not the whole story?"
"Yeah. Exactly," Troy threw the ball at the hoop again, missing it by a mile. Taylor grabbed it and dribbled for a few minutes.
"So what's the whole story then?"
"He came onto me first. He was the one who was mad about the accident instead of being there and being a good friend that he so willingly called himself for years," Troy spat.
Taylor thought. She figured this was true, knowing Chad. "But if that's the case, then why can't you two just talk and work things out?"
"Because he won't talk for two seconds without retorting something that makes me so mad that I can't stand yelling back at him! How would you feel? It's not something we can just as easily fix! If he's not willing to..." He chucked the ball at the hoop post, "...then neither am I. If our friendship is the cost of all this, then that's his choice...but I need to know."
Never remembering a time she'd seen Troy get so upset since before the accident, Taylor nodded. She cleared her throat and looked at him with genuine concern. "I understand where you're coming from. And I know both you and Chad and how you two can be. I don't blame you guys for being mad at each other. But you can't just let it all go to waste. He can help you...but only if you both really want to come to terms with what happened. I know for a fact that he's confused and afraid. He just has a hard time showing it."
Troy shook his head and rested his hand on the left wheel. "Yeah, well, if he was really willing to help me, he'd have a different way of showing his emotions rather than just taking his rage out on me."
Unlocking his wheels, Troy turned around, wanting to leave the conversation as is. He was fed up and all he wanted to do was talk to somebody else. Yet Taylor wasn't finished and walked behind him without hesitation or thought.
"Your dad made him captain."
Troy stopped, then turned slowly. "Really?"
Taylor nodded. "I thought you would have known."
"Yeah, well, like me and Chad, my dad and I aren't exacly on good terms, either," Troy's tone wasn't harsh or even angry. Instead, it was sullen and almost silent. Taylor felt sympathy.
"Look, I'm sorry for what happened, but--"
"You don't have to be, Taylor," Troy felt frustration. "I'm tired of everybody treating me different. Why can't they just see that I'm still me? I don't want you or anybody else feeling sorry for me. I'm not sorry for what happened."
"But you're angry."
"You're right, I am," Troy raised his left arm in a gesturing way. "But you know what? I've always known that things happen for a reason. Maybe this was just one of those things."
Taylor wasn't convinced. "You say that, Troy, but you don't really believe that now, do you? If things happened for a reason, you don't see it now. All you see is fault. Whether or not it's in yourself or your dad."
Troy sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am. All I know is that it happened and there is nothing in the whole entire world that can fix or even un-do what's been done. Trust me, if there were, I'd be looking for it until the death."
Silence followed and Troy was preparing more than anything to break for another departure, but something kept him there. Whether it was the look on Taylor's face or not, he just couldn't leave. He had a feeling that she wanted to say more. And she did.
"Don't you see a bright side to this?"
Troy bit the inside of his cheek. "If I did, don't you think I'd be talking about it?"
"How about the fact that you still have Gabriella?"
"I hardly count that."
"Oh do you?" Taylor circled him. "Think about it Troy. She could have left you after the accident just as much as Chad did. Figuring that there was no reason to be with someone who could walk anymore. Who couldn't be the basketball star anymore. But she didn't. I would call that huge."
Troy thought. This made more sense to him as anything else, and he had to agree, he liked it a lot. A slow smile played on his lips. "You're right. I don't know what I'm thinking anymore these days."
Taylor knelt beside him. "It takes time, Troy. You need to give it time. And you need to give it that time. All the while, you need to adjust and believe that you can do just as much as you could when you were able to walk."
Troy looked down. "It's hard."
"I know it is," Taylor stood up. "But like I said, it's going to take time to heal. And you need to allow that time to come slowly to you."
Sighing, Troy nodded and turned around, preparing to go back inside. Taylor stood there for the moment, not saying anything, but watching him leave. She knew that she had given him plenty enough to think about.
All he had to do was apply it.
By the time night fell, it was raining hard. Gabriella sat beside Troy on the couch comfortably...almost as if he were able to move wholly. The TV wasn't on, but they were talking just as normally as they would have any other time. It was just what Troy wanted all this time so far.
"Taylor came by today."
"Oh?"
Troy nodded. "Yeah. She gave me a lot to think about."
"Did it help?" Gabriella played with his fingers.
"It was a lot to take in, but I think that it will help as I go along. Gradually, of course. It's going to take time for all of this to really settle in for me. I'm still not totally over it."
Gabriella looked up at him. "And there's no hurry for you to get there. Take your time. She's right. It will take time and it will get better. You'll see." She smiled.
Troy nodded. "I know. But until then, I'm just glad to at least still have you around." He smiled at her and gently kissed her cheek. "Because that's honestly better than not having anybody."
Gabriella smiled back and nodded. "Thank you."
Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed only once. The lights flickered and it wasn't long until Mrs. Bolton showed up. "Gabriella, your mother called. She would like me to take you home before the storm gets any worse."
Gabriella nodded. "Okay, thanks." She got up from the couch. "Do you want help or.."
"No, I'll get it," Troy shook his head.
"Okay," she smiled and gave him a short, sweet kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow then."
Troy nodded. "Okay. Bye."
He watched his mother and Gabriella leave, then slowly and with much maneuvering and thinking, got himself back into his manual wheelchair and strapped himself in around the waist. He slid his glove on using his teeth again and headed out of the living room and for the side door that led out to the driveway. Seeing that neither his dad's SUV nor his mom's car were in the drive way, he flung open the back door and wheeled himself furiously out into the storm. He was soaked in less than a minute, his left arm pumping him onto the sidewalk and away from his house. He didn't look back and he didn't notice his father pulling into the driveway behind him. He didn't notice anything at all and didn't want to stop for anything at all.
The pain was beginning to shoot up nothing short of unbearable.
Jack Bolton walked into the front door. He figured that his wife had taken Gabriella home and knew that this would be a chance to talk to Troy. He locked the door and walked into the living room.
"Troy?"
When no answer came, he heard the wind fluttering what sounded like an open window or door against the wall. His curiousness edging in, Jack headed towards the back of the house. "Troy?" Again with no answer, he rounded the corner to be greeted by a soaked floor and a wide open door. Confused for a moment, he stood there. Then he thought twice and ran out.
"Troy!"
Troy Bolton was getting tired. But he was almost there. He knew he was. If he could make it, then it would all be over. If he could just reach...
But he stopped short, just a block away from Gabriella Montez's house. Rain drenched him in all aspects and you couldn't tell that he had tears running down his face with the downpour.
Yet if he could just make it...
Jack rushed to his SUV and revved the engine, speeding out of the driveway and down the road. He didn't really know where his boy would head, but he figured that trying Gabriella's house was just as good as anything. He took a sharp turn down a street, memorizing where she exactly lived. He'd left his cell at home in a hurry to pursue Troy, so calling would not be an option.
Nothing was running through his mind worse than what could happen to his boy.
Troy furiously unbuckled the belt that held him into his chair on the sidewalk across the street from Gabriella's. His mother's car wasn't ther anymore, so he knew that she would have left. He tore the belt off him, trying to catch his sobs the whole entire time and let himself fall onto the pavement back first. Nothing hurt but the gentle, yet stern bump of his head hitting the ground and edge of the grass. He let the rain engulf him, laying there and overturned his chair with one forceful push from his entire left arm. Thunder rolled and more than anything, Troy just wanted it all to go away.
Go away and never come back.
Jack Bolton made another turn onto the opposite street his son was on and stopped as soon as he saw Gabriella's house. He ran out of his car and up to the front door, knocking almost furiously.
Gabriella had answered not a moment after, somewhat surprised. "Coach Bolton...hi...what's wrong?"
"It's Troy," he answered breathlessly.
"What? What happened?"
"I don't know where he is and--" He turned when he heard a car horn honk and saw his wife's blue car pull up beside his. Gabriella was way beyond confused and worried at this point.
Mrs. Bolton ran out of her car and up to the step. "I tried to call you," her voice was shaky, "I couldn't find Troy."
"I know. I came home, he wasn't there and the back door was left open," Jack reassurred her.
Gabriella looked at both of them. "You mean he ran off?"
"That's my inital guess."
Gabriella thought, then grabbed a whistle she saw laying on the table beside the door. "I'll help you find him. And if I do, I'll blow with this. You'll hear it, trust me."
Both Troy's parents initally agreed, getting into the SUV. Gabriella armed herself in a navy blue raincoat and headed out onto the opposite side of the street as Troy's parents had gone.
"Troy!" She called effortlessly, her voice seemingly lost in the rain. "Troy!" She turned around, her hair now getting soaked to her neck and forehead and squinted when she saw something big laying on its side. Then she happened to see a flash of white...
Troy's eyes were closed, ignoring everything else around him except for the rain. He would lay there for as long as someone would find him. He would stay there and cry out all his troubles where nobody would find him. He would stay.
"Troy!"
Opening his eyes, Troy turned his head slowly. He swore he heard Gabriella. That was to be expected, since he was in front of her house across the street. But he wondered how...unless either his mom or dad noticed his absence and went out searching for him.
"Troy!"
Yes, that was her. It was undeniable. Nobody had a voice like hers. Lifting himself up with his one arm, he was turned enough to see her standing just a few inches away from the curb where he was.
She was drenched from head to toe, eyes staring through him. He could feel it. He felt utterly foolish then, but didn't think anything of it. Instead, his voice was icy and cracked. "What are you doing!"
"Looking for you! What is wrong with you Troy!"
"I'm sick of this! I'm sick of everything that's been going on lately!"
Gabriella waved an arm. "What about Taylor! What about what she told you, what about me! Troy, you don't need to run away! You have people you can talk to!"
"It doesn't make it any better!" Troy felt the lump swell in his throat again. "What's the difference of confronting when fear overrides me anyway!"
"It makes all the difference, Troy! You have people who love you! Why can't you get past all this and see it!" Gabriella pleaded, tears penetrating her cheeks. "Troy, your dad was a mess when he came looking for you to me! He was scared! I never seen him act like that! Think of what you're doing to your parents!"
Troy breathed hard. "It's his fault!"
"That may be so, but you have to forgive! Both of you need to forget and move on! He's your dad, Troy, he loves you more than you think! Give it another chance, Troy, please!"
As soon as she spoke, Jack ran across the street to where Gabriella was and almost lunged at Troy. "What is the matter with you!" He held Troy's face in his hands. "What were you thinking! You gave me a heart attack, Troy, what were doing!"
Troy couldn't speak. The lump in his throat was too large to even say what he wanted to. Yet in the middle of everything, he could but make out in the tiniest voice, "I'm sorry, Dad."
Jack nodded and hugged him tightly. Troy could do nothing but give into it and let out every emotion that was inside him. He didn't car anymore. Gabriella and Taylor were right. He didn't have to be afraid. He didn't have to hide.
"I'm sorry," Troy kept saying over and over again.
Jack Bolton held onto his son tightly, yet warmly and laid his head against his. "It's alright, it's alright. I'm sorry, too, Troy, okay? I'm sorry, too."
There had been no place on earth to which Troy Bolton would rather have been at that moment. It had been the best feeling he had that whole week.
And he loved it.
There ya go. Longer I hope for you guys. And the second scene of this story with everything was inspired by "How Could This Happen to Me" by Simple Plan.
Jay