"It's empty in the valley of your heart. The sun, it rises slowly as you walk away from all your fears and faults you've left behind."

The Cave, Mumford and Sons

He was jarred from his peaceful slumber, sheets tangled with his legs like a serpent that had him in its clutches. Before his mind began to fully kick in to gear, he wondered what he looked like when he first woke up in the morning. He was hoping that he resembled a mix of Tom Cruise, not jumping on the couch Tom Cruise but rather Risky Business Tom, and Brad Pitt. He angled his face to the side, pursing his lips as if he were allowing a paparazzi's camera to zero in on his profile. Yeah, he could tell that he looked hot. He would bet on anything that he looked like a million dollars at that very moment...if only he had something that could show him precisely what he looked like. What was that word again, he scratched his head as pure puzzlement took over his expression.

Finally, he dragged himself out of bed and trudged miserably into the nearest bathroom while he tiredly rubbed at his brown eyes. These early morning practices before classes were literally killing him. Maybe not literally. Reaching for the cold handle, he pulled, the sound of the rushing water nearly making him jump. He would never be used to waking at this hour. He cupped his hands together, making a bowl to hold under the spigot as he collected the freezing water in his hands before splashing it on to his awaiting face. He lifted his head finally, his eyes boring into the eyes of his reflection which again, almost made him jump. Either that or squeal like a pig in fright.

After collecting himself, he smoothed out his wrinkled white t-shirt that he had worn to bed, taking a step backwards. "Oh..." He nodded while he took pride in himself. "A mirror," he remembered the word he had been searching for in bed a few minutes before as a smile spread on his lopsided face.

At East High, Jason Cross was known as the class clown and also a comic relief for the basketball team. Whenever they were down and believed there was no shot at winning a game, all the Wildcats needed was to turn to Jason. Just a comment or anything generally that was spoken by him would cause the beaten players to laugh and the tense atmosphere became lighter. Jason was however not known as the brightest student, therefore he had to work twice as hard to remain on the basketball team, maintaining at least a 'C' average in his classes. He hung around with that one specific crowd that everyone knew about- everyone talked about. No, he was not a person who would blindly follow a leader but it often appeared that way.

If any other student was asked who they thought was the leader of that particular group of basketball players that all referred to themselves as best friends, their answer would be Chad Danforth. At one time, it might have been different but now, Chad clearly had the strongest head on his shoulders. No one thought of Jason as someone who would play follow the leader, but then again Jason needed guidance. He needed to hang out with his basketball friends, Sharpay, and any other girlfriends that were welcomed in their posse. Jason believed that he needed them; they kept him in line, kept him from being misunderstood.

And now, suddenly his whole setup felt threatened. Jason sighed, pulling on any clothes he could find in the never-ending heap of laundry that made up his bedroom floor. He sniffed his armpit areas, making sure that his final choice had in fact been clean clothes and then nodded with achievement. He had started every morning since the last playoff game the same way, waking up too early, getting dressed in a dazed rush, then heading out the door to the school's gymnasium where the Wildcats held morning practices. A part of him almost wanted to just lose so that they were out of the race to the Championships so that he did not have to deal with all of the stress but he knew that Coach Bolton would never have that. In a way, the older version of Troy scared him.

Upon entering his kitchen, Jason grabbed whatever food was closest to him which turned out to be a chocolate chip muffin. He could not fight the smile off of his face. Maybe today was going to be different. Maybe it would be a good day.

Of course, he had been wrong.

After arriving at the gym that morning for practice, Jason immediately noticed that there was something off. Chad was running the practices and directing the team while Troy participated with little effort and little care. The heated glares that Chad was passing at Troy seemed to be going unnoticed by only Troy himself who continued to run his suicides leisurely, not keeping up with the rest of the pack who were sharing nervous glances.

Chad Danforth was pissed. He was livid. Just when his best friend looked as though he were making progress, he regressed, returning back to his state of being a hermit, skipping classes and giving up on basketball entirely. Chad would never be able to understand Troy, he finally decided as he became more annoyed. What could have gone wrong? Was there something he was missing? He was his best friend and he believed that it was his duty to know what was going on in Troy's life. But Troy would never let it be known, cutting people out of his life as if he simply didn't care. And he didn't. That was what angered Chad the worst.

"Hey, Bolton!" Chad called as the team took a break, lingering around the water cooler like bees interrupting a picnic.

Troy was sitting on one of the many rows of bleachers that aligned the perimeter of the gymnasium. He was situated as far as he felt from the rest of his teammates; his teammates whom he knew he was letting down. He knew that there was no surprise there. However, he was surprised about how he was reacting to Jack Bolton officially moving out. When he was younger, Troy would imagine the day in his head- always picturing that he would celebrate. The marriage of Jack and Lucille had been prolonged, like a lengthy film that no one would bother sitting through because there was not a happy ending. Troy had been forced to watch the entire film.

He hated this, when he slipped back into one of his moods. No one could cut through the funk that he was in. Troy had been trying to control his own emotions but now he felt as though he no longer had them. He felt immune to pain, immune to any other obstacle that was thrown his way. He could no longer feel. Permanently numb.

"Yeah?" He answered, preparing for the onslaught of words from his friend that were supposed to steer him back to the right course, back to making sacrifices for his team.

"Do I need to define the word 'team' for you?" Chad asked with an edge to his voice. Troy had been dead on about his prediction, Chad was all too easy to decifer.

Troy shrugged, wiping at the sweat that had been forming around his brow line. He stole a quick glance at the door, appearing as though he were waiting for something or someone to arrive. Taking notice of this, Chad seethed.

"You're selfish," He spat while his hand motioned to the entire team who were now watching their two leaders. The two boys contrasted like day and night; one entirely devoted to the Wildcats, the other waiting for something to take him away from it all. "We have all worked too hard for you to fuck it up."

Troy's eyes narrowed, not in a defensive way but rather as though he were considering his friend's words. He let them pass through his mind, soaking it in like a sponge. After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Troy dared to ask, "What is 'it' exactly?"

"It!" Chad exclaimed. He was exasperated and it was too early in the morning for this. "The playoffs, trying to be champions, trying to figure out what the hell has been up your ass."

"I'm sorry that your playoffs don't mean as much to me as they do for you," he said earnestly and that was all that he could offer.

"They're your playoffs, too."

"They're actually all of ours," Jason chided, holding up his finger as if he had discovered something new.

Chad was caught off guard for a moment before he returned to Troy who looked just as unphased as he had before the conversation began to take place. "Exactly." He paused and then shook his head with disgust. "We're all a team here. If you don't care anymore and don't want to be apart of it...leave."

So he did.

He had always wondered if you could physically feel a shift in the Earth's plates. Even if it was too minor to cause an earthquake. There would be times that he would stop whatever it was that he was doing and for a few split seconds, he swore he could feel it. He leaned his back against the coolness of the wall outside of the gym, trying to keep his cool and look as collected as he could. But he felt as if he did not belong there. He wanted to leave.

The warning bell sounded suddenly, letting all students know that homeroom was only five minutes away. Troy searched around him for the nearest clock to confirm that the bell was not screwing with him. He sighed as he let the time of the day sink in. 7:15 AM. He still had to last a full school day. Hoping that it would go by as quickly as basketball practice had, Troy pushed off from where he was stationed against the wall, keeping his head low as he navigated through the semi-crowded halls.

Hoping to remain incognito, Troy slid into his usual seat for homeroom but only got the complete opposite reaction than he had intended. Mrs. Darbus pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, her eyes squinting to make sure that they had seen correctly as she looked up from the pile of papers she had been grading. Troy Bolton had finally arrived to homeroom on time for what had to be the first occurrence all year. He pretended not to notice the stares he had attracted, hunching over in his seat to avoid any kind of eye contact.

Troy had been missing for the past few days, appearing whenever he pleased to catch a class or two. Now everyone was made aware that he was in fact alive, despite the rumors that had been circulating.

"Troy Bolton!" Mrs. Darbus exclaimed, her hands clasping together on top of the papers with a beaming grin on her face. "I'm so glad to see that you're feeling better!"

His blue eyes narrowed in confusion as his head rose from where it had been resting on the cold surface of his desk. "Yeah uh...thanks," He spoke slowly as if he could not configure the right words.

"Very well," the batty teacher shot back, seemingly all too pleased with herself. This was exactly the reason why he preferred missing homeroom.

The gentle touch of a hand landing on his shoulder brought him back to his reality, giving him a reason for being there and also a reason not to find his life a complete waste of time. "Hey," her greeting was warm and simple with a smile to match. The feeling of remorse settled in his stomach, he had not spoken to her since the night she had dropped off his homework. He wondered how many people she had told of the incident, how many people now would look at him and snicker behind their palms because they now knew the truth. Everyone would soon know what really went on at the place Troy was disgusted to call his home. In the matter of seconds, the expression on his face turned to anger as if to question what kind of person Gabriella was.

He was starting to think that she was getting too close too soon. She was like anyone else that he could not trust. But then again, there was something different about her. There was something that could keep him interested and coming back for more. Gabriella had served as a spark that had lit a flame inside of him and now Troy believed that her witnessing his home life would scare her away.

"Hey." He forced a reply, not knowing what else he could possibly say to make the air around him lighter.

Sensing his apprehension, Gabriella leaned closer to stall for time. "It hasn't been the same around here without you," she said honestly, keeping her voice low so that Sharpay who had just entered the room, staring with interest, could not hear. Ever since Gabriella had taken the assignments to the Bolton household, Sharpay had began assuming that something had taken place between the two teenagers. The blonde continued to insist that they shared too much chemistry for their unspoken 'relationship' to be nonexistent. Gabriella figured it was just the theater inside Sharpay coming out whenever she spoke those kind of phrases. Sharpay had been drilling nonstop questions, questions that Gabriella honestly did not have the answers to. She was no where near sure of where she and Troy stood.

Some would call them friends but Gabriella did not think that they were even on that level. Do guys like Troy even have friends...she had questioned herself countless times. She was more than certain that she was born to have a career in journalism so it was a natural instinct for her to take interest in the mystery that was Troy. He kept to himself, his head trained to the floor while girls continuously stared in awe.

"Seems just about the same to me," His answer came with a shrug as he took in the four walls that surrounded them. There was no doubt that he hated this place. He felt completely out of place; like the only black sheep in a sea of white.

Gabriella rolled her eyes, sinking back further into her seat. No wonder people thought he was a lost cause; he froze people out as if he just could not care less. "Yeah well, great to have you back," she said, her tone becoming sarcastic.

He turned sideways in seat so that he had a lateral view of the front of the classroom and her at the same time. "Trust me, I want to be here as much as I'm wanted here."

His tone was low and serious, his blue eyes darkening as he pretended to study a scuff mark on the linoleum floor of the classroom.

"I want you here."

This caused him to finally look up at her, their eyes connecting on nothing but each other. It had been the first time that brown met blue since the night that Gabriella had randomly appeared on his doorstep.

Troy had woken up that morning with disappointment lingering in the pit of his stomach since he knew he had to finally cut the crap and return to school. That disappointment had doubled in size after he let down his entire team and his best friend. But for the moment that he allowed her eyes to take him in; his thoughts, his worries, and disappointments began to fade away. There was nothing more that troubled him.

As quickly as it happened, Troy shook his head lightly, as if trying to rid himself of the feeling that the girl who had entered his life by fate caused him. Girls like Gabriella made him rethink the stories of guardian angels that he had been told as a small child. But then he would remember that guardian angels don't trip over you when they first meet you and they don't sing with you in your car.

He wanted to ask who she was. He really did not know. Thinking back, he remembered when Jason accused her of being a spy on her first day at the new school. Maybe that was exactly what she was. Maybe she was sent to make him fall for her, quit the basketball team, lose the championships...

If that was true, she was doing a pretty damn good job so far.

However, Troy knew that the idea of Gabriella being a spy was complete nonsense but there was no denying that she haunted him- always lingering in his mind.

He had no retort or comment he could say back, she had wiped him out and left him speechless.

"He's not coming," Chad assured his girlfriend who was scanning her beady eyes repetitively over the throngs of students entering the cafeteria.

"But I thought he was doing better," the blonde pouted, settling back into a sitting position in her usual seat at their lunch table.

Jason's eyebrows furrowed in confusion after hearing part of the conversation. "Is Troy sick?"

Chad had to bite his tongue to resist calling Jason any names. He was angry with his best friend and no one else. He did not want to take it out on someone who did not deserve it. Sighing, Chad shook his head slowly. "No, he's just not himself."

"Who is he then?"

"Can you give it a rest, Jase?" Zeke piped up, feeling completely defeated, even though the Wildcats had not even played their next playoff game and wouldn't until the following day.

Gabriella felt uncomfortably out of place as she ate her lunch normally, just as she would any other day. The whole table was uneasy, fearing the worst; their captain would not pull through. She was the only person who really knew why he had been off lately and she knew it was not anything she would bring up in a conversation. What she had heard at Troy's house she considered confidential. Her lips were sealed on the matter of Troy Bolton acting 'out of character' as Sharpay had called it, referring to his personality change.

"Maybe he just has more on his mind than basketball," Gabriella offered, feeling the need to defend his name. She knew the moment she finished speaking that she had made a mistake as Sharpay shot her a look that demanded for her to confess everything that was on her mind. But Gabriella would had a strong head and there was no way that a threatening look could get her to start talking.

Jason nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I always have a lot on my mind," he shared with the group who all seemed to be off in their own world.

Chad Danforth was lost. He had turned down the wrong road only to find himself at a dead end. Over the years, he had put up with Troy being as moody as a PMSing girl but still managed to call him his best friend. There were many times that Chad wanted to give up, he did not know how much more of Troy's games he could take. But in the end, Chad knew that he would never be able to give up on his friend. That was what troubled him the most- Troy could so easily give up.

He had witnessed Troy giving up several times. There was once a time that Troy attempted to get to school on time but he had given up on that. Another time was a few years back, Troy wanted to drop basketball and take up a new sport. He chose football but could not handle practices being held every day in the hot summer sun of August; he had given up.

And now history was repeating itself.

"Maybe...maybe," Chad shook his head, internally struggling to figure out just what he had meant to say. He was too preoccupied and stressed to focus on basketball, his troubled friend and school work at the same time. "You could try talking to him?"

There was silence as everyone's eyes remained on Gabriella who was too busy chewing her sandwich to notice that he was speaking to her. Finally, after a prolonged moment, Gabriella darted her head left to right, only to confirm to herself that the request indeed had been directed at her.

"Me?" She finally managed to ask, confusion etched on her features.

"Yeah!" Sharpay joined in, her hazel eyes lighting up at her boyfriend's idea. "You're about the only person he really talks to these days."

Gabriella eyes widened in realization. Though the conversations of her and Troy could be pointless and short, they at least still talked. Troy, the boy who never said more than a few words had picked her to talk to, even if it wasn't much. And that meant something to her.

"Besides," Sharpay's voice dropped as she held up one of her thoroughly moisturized hands to shield her mouth so that no one else could read her lips, "It could give you two more time to...you know."

"No, I don't know," Gabriella whispered tersely as she gathered up her belongings, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

"Go get him, tiger!" Sharpay exclaimed with a laugh, finally succeeding in lightening the moods of all of the basketball players who had been discouraged.

Gabriella rolled her eyes and fought off her own laugh as she walked out of the cafeteria after hearing Jason's question, "Don't you mean, Wildcat?"

She had expected him to be there and that was exactly why she walked up the flight of stairs with hesitation. The rooftop garden was the only place that she thought he would be. If he was there, she was not sure what she could possibly say to him; she didn't even know what his friends wanted her to tell him.

Gripping the railing tighter, Gabriella inhaled a sharp breath, feeling a sudden sense of deja vu, reminded of the first time she had ever officially spoken to the ex basketball captain. She took in his posture, his forearms dangling over the side of the building, his hood-covered head hanging as he slouched. Never in her life had she seen someone appear to be so broken.

"Don't jump," she joked, just as she had before but this time she feared she had chosen the wrong words when she was answered only by silence and birds chirping in the nearby distance. "Troy?" Gabriella tried calling his name tentatively, the hesitation on her face masked over with concern when she noticed the contours of his back trembling. Her eyes scanned over him, trying to see if she could make out anything different about him; something had changed. As she did, she noted the loose cord that poked out of his jean pocket and disappeared, causing her to assume that he was listening to his music as he usually did. She opted to approace him slowly, with every intent not to scare him out of his wits.

History repeated itself as her hand fell to his shoulder, squeezing lightly to let her presence be known. "Troy," she said his name again, this time her voice softer when she saw his ear pieces dangling on their wire before him. Immediately after the name was spoken, Troy turned his head the opposite direction as if to hide himself. "It's okay," she assured him, even though she did not have the slightest clue of what she was assuring. Taking a few steps back, Gabriella settled on to the bench that decorated the roof of the high school. "You won't even know I'm here."

She was curious, as she always was but this time there was something more. She undoubtedly knew that he was upset but she always knew of how much she detested when people saw her when she was upset. So she would give him the time he needed. With her eyes trained to the black ballet-like flats she had picked out of her closet this morning, Gabriella closed her eyes, pretending she was somewhere else; some place better. She would wait, she would wait until he was ready and that was all she really could do.

"What the fuck are you doing here, anyway?"

The eight words of the loaded question cut through her as her gaze suddenly snapped upright to meet his piercing stare, filled with such anger and hate that only led her to believe that she had made a terrible mistake.

"I just thought I'd see-"

"What?" Troy cut her off venomously. "See if I was anymore fucked up then I was before? See if I've finally cracked, right? Because that's what you think. That's what you saw."

She shook her head slowly, not wanting to match fire with fire as she remained calm. "I never once thought that, Troy. I just wanted to see if you were alright, okay? I'm sorry." She said as she stood up, brushing off her hands on her pants while she did.

"I'm great," He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"That's great then," She sighed, retreating to the door so that he wouldn't be able to see the hurt on her face, the rejection she felt ever since she knew that there was someone else in his life. While her newfound friends secretly rooted for some kind of relationship to kindle between her and Troy, she knew the truth. He was holding out for someone better, someone who meant more to him than she ever would. Gabriella felt as though she was simply wasting her time, messing with her head as she tried to sooth the stress out of a troubled boy who had entered her life my fate.

"Wait."

As her hand gripped on to the cold railing, she froze knowing that she would wait, even if everything inside of her wished against it.

The moment she turned, he finally had the chance to look at her. All of a sudden, it felt like the first time he had ever seen her. The image of her singing in his truck without a care or worry played through his mind, stunning him momentarily. Usually, she had a gleam in her eye- much like the sun reflecting on a body of water. It was there as a mark of happiness, an aspect of her personality that she seemed she would never have enough of. But now, as he looked at her, Troy felt as though someone had taken a strong fist to his gut, all of the air supply leaving his body. There was no happiness in those brown eyes that he could not get out of his head. She was just a teenage girl, dressed in her finest pair of dark denim skinny jeans and a hooded jacked pulled over her head of ebony curls. She never wore make-up, and as Troy looked at her he knew that she would never need it. Raw and vulnerable, Gabriella stood before him.

His mouth was hanging open, ready to speak but his throat had become dry and he was ridden of all words. As quickly as he had told her to stay, Troy bit his tongue with immediate regret before shaking his head. "Nevermind."

Cowardly, he couldn't tear his eyes from his shoes pretending to notice something there. But he did not know that the facade was no longer needed.

She was gone.

October 22nd, 2009

Sometimes this uneasy feeling spreads from my stomach until it's the only thing I know. Maybe it's the nerves of transferring.
Maybe things are changing so rapidly that I can't keep up. All I know is that I have a horrible case of writer's block and I simply need a break.
Stay beautiful.

-B