A/N: I know. I'm alive. Shocking, isn't it? Work has been majorly crazy. So how are you guys? What have you been up to?

I recently watched a series on Netflix called Mr Young. It was so bad, it was awesome. It was about a child genius who chose to be a high school teacher (I know...) So I wondered...what would Gabriella be like as a child genius? So I whipped this up over the past few days (mostly at work). It's not perfect. I just wanted to get your opinions on it.

I'd also really like somebody to either cowrite with or who can help me figure some plot points out. If you don't mind knowing spoilers, please send me a PM :)

Enjoy x

Chapter One

"Here is your campus map, schedule, a list of extracurricular activities, and a list of useful contacts if you need help with anything. I must say, Miss Montez, we are honoured to have someone as accomplished as you join our student body. I expect you light will shine very brightly here at East High," Mr Matsui, the principal, said earnestly.

Gabriella took the folder he was holding out to her and had a quick flick through it. "You understand I don't want special treatment, right?"

"Of course, all the staff understand."

"Now, Gabriella, I'm working late at the lab and your father has basketball practice so-"

"Don't worry, I'm a big girl. I can walk," Gabriella said, trying to ease her mother's concern.

Maria still looked worried but her husband, Carlos, rested a hand on her shoulder. "You'll do fine, Gabi."

After hugging her parents goodbye, Gabriella followed Mr Matsui's directions to her homeroom. She stepped into the main hallway and was greeted by the overwhelming scents of cleaning products, sweat, and anxiety. It was disgusting. And yet, she loved it.

Clutching her folder to her chest, she began battling her way through the throng of students: cheerleaders huddling around a cell phone, skaters whooshing past her, and some intellectually gifted students exchanging papers. Gabriella had always refused to use the terms 'nerd' and 'geek' after being called them her entire life. Oddly enough, some people thought they complimenting her when they said it.

She tried to duck as some jocks began throwing a basketball around. Which promptly hit her in the head. Her IQ may be slightly above average but her reflexes were severely lacking.

Bending down to pick up the offending object, she fumbled with her papers, which fell out of the folder. She briefly wondered why she had chosen to do this. It wasn't as if she had to be here, after all. But, as soon as the thought entered her head, it left. This was her choice. She wanted to do this. She needed to do this. For precisely sixty three reasons.

A pair of hands began gathering her papers and she and her rescuer stood up at the same time. It was a guy. And maybe the best looking guy in the entire world. Judging from the letterman jacket, he was a jock. And judging from the cheerleaders ogling at him, he was a popular jock. With her past, she hadn't encountered many attractive guys. Well, not guys her own age, anyway. So she almost had a panic attack when he held out her fallen papers.

She took a deep breath and passed his basketball back to him. "Do you always try to knock out new students?"

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "You caught me. My job is to ensure East High makes the worst first impression. Troy," he said as he held out his hand.

She shook his hand and nodded. "Gabriella."

"Sorry about that. My friend may be co captain of the basketball team but he has the social awareness of a toy truck. He just won't stop playing with this inside." He rolled his eyes. "Do you know where you're going?"

She glanced down at her paperwork. "Room 24B. Homeroom with Ms Darbus."

"Hey, that's my homeroom. Do you want me to walk you?"

"Yo. Hoops," a voice yelled. Gabriella looked in the direction of the voice and saw an African-American guy gesturing for Troy to throw the ball, to which he complied.

"It's okay. I think I know where I'm going. But I'll see you there?" She gave him a small smile and made her way down the hall.

Ms Darbus was a lively, over the top woman who chose to sit in a throne instead of a typical desk chair. If the posters in her classroom were any indication, she was a drama teacher. And a dramatic drama teacher at that. Gabriella took the empty desk at the back of the room which Ms Darbus had half heartedly gestured to and gazed around in awe. So this was high school. A lot of chatter, cell phones, and overall noise.

Troy came in with the basketball guy from the hall and a few other friends. He smiled at her and she had to reach into her bag for her inhaler to relieve the early signs of a panic attack. When she was confident her lungs were functioning as they should, she smiled back.

When the bell rang, the students slowly made their way to their desks and Ms Darbus rose from her throne, her robes swaying around the small stage like flags. Homeroom was a blur of names, activities, and times. As fast as Gabriella could think, she struggled to keep up. Glancing around, everyone was following. Not necessarily paying attention. But they understood what Ms Darbus was talking about. So this was how it felt to be a regular high school student.

She followed math and science like she was learning the alphabet, even correcting the math teacher out of habit. She'd been doing it since she could talk. Second nature by now. Predictably, Ms Baxter shone with pride when she recognised Gabriella.

However, she'd forgotten how much she struggled with English and drama. It had been a while since she'd read Shakespeare and suddenly felt as if Ms Darbus was teaching in Swahili, a language she had tried to learn but failed to understand the sentence structure. She knew that the language Shakespeare used was more to do with etymology rather than Shakespeare's choice, but it was still near impossible for her to understand.

At least she was experiencing what it was like to be an average high school student, which was what she ultimately wanted.

It was a bit of a blur as to how she found herself sitting at the back of the auditorium at lunch, but she breathed a sigh of relief at the quiet that surrounded her. Despite the anxiety, all the people, the loud noises, and the confusion, it was possibly the best day of her life.

She was about to open the copy of Romeo and Juliet that Ms Darbus wanted them to read, when her phone began to vibrate.

"Hey, genius."

She rolled her eyes at her brother's voice. "Hey dumby."

"And how is your first day going?"

She sighed. "There's a lot of people in high school."

"Did you expect five seniors and a teacher…?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Do you feel dumb yet?"

"In English and drama, yes," she said, although her brother heard laughter in her voice.

"Good. Now you know how us mere mortals feel. Hey, I've got practice but I'll see you later tonight. I want to hear all about today."

"You mean how I'm questioning my IQ for eight hours straight? Sure," she joked.

Bidding goodbye to her brother, she tentatively opened her pristine copy of As You Like It. The words danced on the page, giving her a headache. It seemed that after every word, she was turning to the glossary in the back of the book. She could recite pi to one hundred and twenty five places and she couldn't understand a stupid play.

She was so tempted to turn on her iPad and retreat into the logical world of numbers and elements, deconstructing the Earth down to particles and atoms, calculating the rate at which the universe was constantly expanding. And, you know, using lasers. She could do it. She didn't have to feel this way.

And yet, she felt more human than she ever had. No one was telling her how she was more special than everyone else, that she was an asset to an educational institution, that was the greatest mind of her generation. In high school, she didn't have all the answers. She didn't understand everything in drama, and she was apparently severely lacking in social skills, too. At East High, she was just Gabriella. For the first time in her life.

So, she stumbled through the designated reading, jotting down what she assumed was happening, making a note to check the internet to see if she was right. Given her writing block with her current research, it was providing her with a much needed distraction. She was a hardcore advocate of distracting oneself to overcome writer's block and had been doing it her entire life. Which explained her enjoyment of knitting, stamp collecting, and a very short lived dance career.

"Gabriella?"

She visibly jumped at the sound of her name and looked up to see Troy standing at the end of the row with an armful of papers. "Oh, Troy, you made me jump."

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Mr Big Shot Basketball Man," she mumbled.

He smiled as he sat down in the seat next to her. "Au contraire, I'm the vice president of the drama club. People want me to be president but Sharpay refuses to give up the title."

Gabriella frowned. "Oh. Sorry, I just assumed that-"

"I hated drama as much as you do?" He guessed the end of her sentence.

She slouched in her seat. "What gave it away?"

He chuckled to himself. "You looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack when Ms Darbus asked you to read."

That was because Ms Darbus asked her to read opposite Troy. She rubbed her eyes to try and avoid the fresh panic attack that was rising in her chest. "It's been a while since I've had to deal with...theatrics."

"You didn't have to take it at your old school?"

She shook her head. "It was optional."

He seemed to consider that. "Oh, well, back to my original question: what are you doing here?"

"Hiding," she admitted.

"From what? Or who?"

"Taylor McKessie."

Troy ran a hand through his sandy hair and nodded in understanding. "Let me guess: she's begging you to join the scholastic decathlon?"

Gabriella nodded fervently. There was even a note of fear in her eyes. "And the physics bowl and the chem club. How'd you know?"

He shrugged. "I've known her since we were in pre K. Besides, every new student is hounded by at least one person: Taylor for math and science, Sharpay for drama, and Chad for literally any sport. He once hounded a girl last year because he heard on the grapevine she was good at rhythmic gymnastics"

"And who do you hound?"

"I hit every new student in the head with a basketball. I thought we'd already covered that?" He winked at her. "If you want somewhere to hide, I know somewhere Taylor never goes. I was heading there now to practice these."

She leaned closer to read the papers he was holding up. "You read sheet music?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. It's quite easy, really"

Easy. Right. She could barely find her way around a Shakespearean play but reading sheet music was apparently 'easy'. She suddenly realised what Troy had implied: he could sing. And if he was in the same club as Sharpay, a very sparkly dramatic girl, Gabriella was willing to bet he was good. Neither Sharpay or Ms Darbus seemed capable of accepting mediocre performances.

"Anyway, I have to go. But, like I said, if you're intent on hiding, you're welcome to come with me." He stood up, still clutching his sheet music to his chest, heading for the door.

Gabriella hesitated for only a moment before she gathered her books into her arms and followed him. In the moment of silence, she chastised herself. It was her first day and she was acting like a lost puppy around the first attractive guy she met. To be fair, he was really attractive. And he was being really sweet to her.

Yet, she had flashbacks to the couple of teen movies she'd watched in an effort to prepare herself for today. The jocks never hung out with the nerds, much less dated them. It was only if the jock got something out of it: a bet, a dare, a prank. It was never quite as simple as the nerd wanted it to be.

Gabriella frowned when she realised Troy had asked her a question. "What?"

He chuckled to himself, navigating the halls of East High seemingly without looking where he was going. "I asked you where you moved from."

"Oh, um, Connecticut," she replied with a frown.

"So why'd you move? If you don't mind me asking," he added hurriedly.

She smiled. "It's okay. Pretty cliche, really. My mom's company transferred her and so we packed up and moved to the other side of the country. I didn't really get a choice in the matter, being a minor and all."

"Ouch. Resentful much?"

She sighed. "I don't know. I'm proud of my mom but I had a life back in Connecticut, you know?"

"You'll build a new one here. Albuquerque isn't the worst place to be." He paused. "So what does your dad do?"

"He's a sports coach. Just taken over training the Redhawks at the University of Albuquerque, actually," she said absentmindedly. While she respected her father's work, it was of little interest to her.

"Oh my god. Montez. It all makes sense," Troy mumbled, leading her to a door in the back of the cafeteria.

"My name makes sense?" she asked slowly, following him up a flight of stairs.

They emerged onto the rooftop, surrounded by plants and flowers. Troy, evidently at home in this private hideaway, sat down on the bench in the corner, his voice now a distant mumble. Gabriella, however, was mesmerised. The colours were bright and almost addictive and the scent was overwhelming in the best way. Spending the majority of her life in offices and labs, she'd been somewhat neglected on the sensory stimulation front.

Then she stepped closer to the railing and had to fumble in her bag to grab her inhaler to prevent the asthma attack that the flower pollen was triggering. The view of Albuquerque from up here reminded her of another reason she'd insisted on enrolling at East High. You didn't often get views like this from an office or a research lab. There were mountains and fields, and she spied a river or a creek flowing towards the horizon.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded absentmindedly.

"Do you want to go inside?" Concern laced his voice, although she didn't know why.

Breaking from her thoughts, she finally turned to him. "No way. Sorry, I just got a bit overwhelmed. It's been a while since I've seen something like this."

"You lived in the city?"

"Something like that. Anyway, you were saying my name made sense?"

He shrugged. "Your last name has bugged me all day. I know I recognised it. Mario is your brother, right?"

"Yes," she said slowly, narrowing her eyes. "How'd you know?"

"My dad and I go to every Redhawk game. You're brother's a genius,"

"Genius," she muttered, taking a seat on the bench. "That's one word to describe him."

"By the way, pass on my sympathies. It's not easy having your dad as the coach," he joked.

Before she could respond, he'd turned back to his music sheets. She opened her copy of Romeo and Juliet again, but couldn't ignore how Troy was treating her. Normal. Well, she assumed it was how he treated normal girls but she really had no parameters for comparison.

Either way, it was refreshing. And as she tied her brain in knots trying to decipher why Juliet would even want Romeo in the first place, she realised she didn't even care if this was all a prank. She wouldn't care if he ignored her tomorrow because for one day, no one had asked her to explain her information paradox theory or to explain Einstein's theory of relativity or, in one past excruciating case, asked to explain how the universe came into existence.

Troy hadn't treated her like a freak or like some saviour of mankind, both of which had always felt insulting and patronising.

Instead, he was studying with her as if she was a friend. And it felt good.