It's not as long as I would have liked, but the next chapter is guarenteed to be longer. XD. I've been on a busy schedule and I've been overloaded with work. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for so long.

-Steph

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"Tro-oy, it's winter." A soft voice sang into my ears as I lifted my head to stare at her incredulously. "Pay, we're in New Mexico. There's no such thing as winter." I told her, deadpanned.

She poked her tongue out at me. "Oh, have an imagination, will you!" she exclaimed, before leaping off the backyard porch railing down onto the deep green grass below, her pale feet contrasting magnificently as she impulsively twirled around in circles, her blonde curls flaring around her head like a halo.

I watched in disbelieving amusement as my girlfriend skipped around my large backyard in a pair of plaid shorts and a blue tank top, her voice was high, but beautiful as she burst into song. Surprisingly, a song we'd heard at church just the other day.

"Took me a while but I'm finally here…So I just want to testify, make it crystal clear…See I've been picked out, to be picked on…Talked about, out my friends' mouths…I've been beat down, till he turned my life around…"

She looked so gorgeous, just twirling away in the afternoon sun as she sang and danced around. "Come on Troy!" she called out, her voice full of joy, "Come dance in the winter snow!"

I felt like laughing at the ludicrous thought of snow being in Albuquerque, New Mexico, but I could never really deny Sharpay Elise Evans anything. So, sighing I stood up, and danced my way over to her, where a bright smile broke out over her features.

I grabbed her hand, and twirled her into my chest, before spinning her back out, and she laughed merrily. "Can you see it, Troy-boy? Can you see the snow?" she asked as we danced together, faux-fox-trotting our way around the backyard.

"Can you feel it under our feet, and brushing against our skin?" she whispered, her eyes twinkling. I shook my head. "Sorry, Pay, but all I see and feel right now is you." A mischievous gleam shone in her pretty brown eyes.

"So you don't believe that if I pray for snow, it will happen?" She inquired as I spun her around.

I shook my head. "It's just not plausible, Sharpay. We're next-door neighbors to the desert. I don't believe Snowball and his royal misfits will be visiting."

A smirk appeared, and before I knew what was happening, a huge bag of fluffy white feathers burst open above us, causing both our eyes to widen as we glanced up to see my ten-year old sister, red-faced and shocked staring down at us guiltily from her third floor bedroom window. Her little friend beside her looked on with wide eyes, before they both retreated and slammed the window shut.

Arienne was going to be in so much trouble, when mom and dad found out that she'd just emptied parts of the costume material for the fundraising party next month at the Daycare Center. Mom had been planning to hand make their bird costumes.

Sharpay suddenly started laughing as hundreds of feathers floated down around us. I realized that even though it wasn't real snow, it was close enough, and Sharpay proved my assumptions correct with her next statement, amusement clear on her smiling face.

"So tell me, Troy, do you still not believe that prayers are answered?"

Chapter Five

Oblivious to My Love: Frayed Tempers

I don't understand. I honestly don't even know what I do not understand. I mean, sure, I almost convinced myself that it would be easier to commit suicide than to live, and then the reason I wished to off myself happens to fall into a life-threatening dilemma. Ironic, isn't it?

Now, here I am, sitting stiffly in a freakin' awfully uncomfortable pasty green chair, and tiredly watching nurses and doctors shuffle up and down the hallways, their rubber-bottom shoes squeaking against the linoleum. They thought they looked professional, but I thought they only succeeded in giving me a severe migraine that throbbed with every squeak.

Why was I here? I would've asked myself out loud again, if the old lady in the corner hadn't started eying me suspiciously after I had questioned my self three times earlier.

It must be true that I was slowly, but surely losing my sanity, and it was all because of her.

I almost sneered at the noun, knowing exactly whom it represented.

I wasn't bitter because I loved her any less, I admitted to myself ashamedly, but because I couldn't stop loving her. Despite the hell she's made out of my life, and all the drama that certainly lies waiting in my very near future.

Tomorrow most likely, I thought sighing to myself, resigned to my fate.

Everyone had seen her, and everyone had seen my reaction to it. There was bound to be consequences for my foolhardy and reckless actions, but it's not as if my mind was really functioning at the moment. I wasn't embarrassed that people knew of my feelings for Sharpay, but it was more of the fact that she didn't return those feelings for me, and it was going to cause me hell.

I scrubbed a palm over my face as I slumped down in the ugly chair, recognizing defeat for the first time in my life. There was nothing I could do to get the rumor mill to stop churning, and the gossip would only get worse when I returned back to school, the next day.

Why was I here, anyway? I mused to myself again. Sharpay had been taken inside almost two hours ago, and would be discharged as soon as she woke. Yet, here I sat, my feet unable to move, and my body heavy with exhaustion. What the hell was wrong with me?

Normal people do not sit and wait in hospital lounges for a girl to leave; at least not one that hated them. I scowled to myself, my hands fisting strands of my hair as I groaned softly.

Just as I stood up, and walked towards the exit, I heard raised voices from down the corridor, and curiously I glanced towards the muffled yelling. My eyebrows rose to my forehead along with the nurse who was standing across the hall from me, her mouth slightly agape as she stared down the hall.

A doctor was frozen further down the way, and his expression was wide-eyed as he gawked at the conversation.

I believe every one was listening to the argument, and none were being very sly about it, I thought chagrined, but when I recognized the voice, I too became engrossed in the conversation.

"How could you defend him?!" The words rung out through the floor, as a crashing sound was heard. My brows furrowed. What does she mean? I wondered.

"How could you sit by me, and tell me how fucking guilty Ryan feels about leaving me hanging? You don't care do you? Ryan is your pride and joy, and no one even thinks about how I truly feel. Ryan has friends, and me, I have a back-stabbing asshole for a twin, who doesn't even report to anyone about what they purposely did to me!"

My eyes almost popped out of my head, and I could feel myself pale. Who did what to her? I had to know what the hell she was talking about. And what did Ryan have to do with anything? He'd never seemed that bad of a guy, just shy and a bit odd.

I had been on the receiving end of Sharpay's whiplash anger, and sharp tongue, but she was downright ferocious and biting in her tone this time.

Before I could even fully process what was going on around me, Sharpay had emerged from the room; tear streaks on her ashen features, before she slammed the door shut and fled the hospital as if demons from hell were chasing her.

I watched her go, feeling strangely detached from reality, yet I was seeing everything in this awful clarity and I didn't like what I saw as Sharpay's mother, Suzette Evans stepped from the room calmly, her face set into a cold mask.

The woman's eyes were hard with fury and humiliation as she watched her daughter sprinting away through the automated sliding glass doors. I could practically see her fighting the snarl of rage from overcoming her features.

I had never met someone so evil as Sharpay's mother. What had happened to the sweet and kind woman I had been told of by my grandmother? But now, there was no choice. Suzette Evans was going down, I thought as her cold green eyes slid to meet my own.

I couldn't have told you the anger I felt the moment our eyes connected. It was overwhelming, and I could feel my hands clench at my sides. My face may have been impassive, but the loathing I felt for this woman shone clearly in my eyes, judging by the way her eyes widened slightly.

A spark of fear was lurking behind the anger she felt, and I could see it. My eyes promised her that I would get retribution, and she acknowledged it with the slight cracking of her cold façade.

Suzette and Johnathon Evans would pay, and I would make sure that the cost would incapacitate them for life.

People would learn, my friends included, that you don't mess with Troy Bolton.

I stared hard at Sharpay's mother for a moment longer, before I turned on my heel abruptly and walked away.


When I walked inside my house that night, my mood was no better, and it only got worse when my mother called to me from the kitchen, where she and my grandmother, Georgia Marie were preparing dinner. My dad was sitting at the table, reading the sports section of the newspaper, and my little sister, Haley had a friend over from preschool. I think her name was Chesley or Chesney, one of the two, I couldn't exactly remember, considering I was downright pissed.

Miranda was in her highchair, and was occupied by a toy truck that was a shiny metallic silver. Arienne was standing in front of the fridge, digging for light snacks that her friends could share. There were five of them there right now, smiling, and whispering and giggling in the corner, talking about whatever thirteen-year olds talked about.

Lisa and Marie were two that I liked the most, but Bethany, who had long brown hair and blue eyes, was okay. The other two I didn't like at all. Chrissie and Megan, were both twins, and had long blonde hair. They wore far too much make-up for my liking.

Normally the sight of so many wouldn't annoy me so much, but right now, I was in no mood to deal with their high pitched squawking about subjects they knew nothing of.

My mom's blue eyes stared at me hard as she chopped vegetables. "And where have you been?" she asked nonchalantly, not stopping what she was doing. I rolled my eyes, clenching my fists at my side.

"Does it matter," I snapped, "After all, I'm here now, aren't I?"

My tone was not very respectful, actually bordering on downright hostile, and it showed on my mother's face as it turned cold, and her eyes turned icy. My anger subsided at that moment, and I realized that I had just made a very big mistake.

No matter how bad my day was, she was still my mother. One who loved me through everything, and now, because I was upset I took it out on her.

"Would you like to rephrase that statement." she spoke softly, but her voice was dangerous. Arienne winced and she stared at me with wide eyes from inside the refrigerator.

I knew from the look in her eyes that it was not a question. And with that my unreasonable anger re-emerged.

"I was out." I retorted still stubborn, even though I was treading in dangerous territory. Arienne's eyes were the size of tennis balls as she gaped at me, frantically shaking her head.

My dad had set down his paper, and was standing now with his arms crossed, a stern frown on his face. My grandmother just watched me, her expression impassive.

The other pre-teens were watching Arienne's panicked motions, my mom, and me with flabbergasted looks on their faces. No one spoke.

"Out where?" she asked, breaking the heavy silence with a careless voice.

"Do I have to tell you every fucking detail about my life, mother?" I shot back, heatedly. I was looking for a fight.

Everyone paled except my mother and myself. I was glaring, and her eyes were hard. "You will tell me the details I ask for Troy, and I expect nothing less than the truth," she stated, still chopping vegetables.

"I don't have to tell you shit about my life when I don't want to. I'm an adult, and just because you're a parent doesn't mean that you can tell me what do with my life." I snarled.

I was way out of line, I knew it, but I couldn't help it. She had started this when my temper was completely frayed and I was stressed as well.

"If you're such an adult, then why are you being so childish?" she threw back at me, her words venomous. "I'm your mother, I'm bound to ask where you are, considering that the rule is that if you're ever going to be out past five you need to call to tell me why you aren't going to be home for dinner."

"That's a stupid rule, and I am home for dinner, so what you just said was completely stupid and pointless." I retorted, and my mother's eyes glowed sharply, and her entire face closed off, and went cold.

I knew then, that I had just crossed the line.

My anger vanished as soon as my mom stabbed the knife down so hard that it pierced the wood of the cutting board, and stayed there. Her red curls fell into her eyes giving her angry blue orbs some flecks of red, making me realize that my mother, Anna Bolton was definitely not a woman to mess with.

"You want a fight Troy, then you can have one, but I damn well will not have you insult my intelligence and the boundaries of this household set by me and your father." she hissed her voice quiet, but as sharp as a knife blade.

Everyone flinched, including me.

"What? Is the adult too afraid to take on someone when they get down on your level?" she asked mockingly, and I looked away, shame-faced, unable to meet her hard stare.

"I don't care how hard your day was, but I will not have you coming in here and disrespecting everything I have done for you, and you most certainly will not ever disrespect me again the way you have done tonight." she stated dangerously, stalking towards me.

"You do not talk to me with such vulgar language, Troy, and I will not tolerate it from you," She paused, looking over me carefully, "You're better than that."

Anger surged again, thinking how Sharpay's mom would say things like that to her, and I opened my mouth, and sealed my fate as a complete utter fool.

"Fuck you, bitch." I sneered, and immediately regretted it, when I saw the undisguised hurt on my mother's features.

Before I knew what had happened, her small hand had slapped me right across the face, and pain exploded in my right cheek. I winced and recoiled back from her, the side of my face smarting, and my mother was un-phased at my reaction.

Her face was neutral, no expressions on it, but her eyes were hard as ice and I could see the hurt in them, and I felt guilty for treating her the way I had. She worked day and night to give me a nice life, and I come in angry over a girl, and just dismiss all that she's done, not to mention how much she's loved me.

"I'm sorry." I whispered truthfully, but my mother's face didn't soften, she only nodded curtly once, before turning away from me, and walking from the room.

I don't think I had ever felt so low and wretched in my life as I did watching my mother's shoulders quiver as she walked out of the room, her head held high, and her steps never faltering.

My sister was glaring in my direction, but I could see the sympathy in her eyes as she gathered her friends including Haley and Chesney, and hustled them out into the backyard. My dad brushed past me to find my mother, and he said nothing as he walked past with Miranda in his arms.

I suddenly found myself alone in the kitchen, with no one but my grandmother, who was staring at me solemnly from the table. I met her eyes, and I found no accusation, or disappointment towards me in her watery green eyes. She only showed compassion and understanding, and I felt my walls crumble.

Her arms opened to me, and I felt myself walking towards her without really realizing what I was doing. I knelt down on the floor in front of her, and placed my head in her lap, and I cried, just now understanding how screwed up I really was.

This blew everything out of the water, and I found out the hard way that life was never going to be the same. Everything was different, and I was responsible for making things even more disastrous than before.

Georgia didn't speak, she only ran her fingers through my hair, and hummed quietly, the sound of my soft sobs overcoming the soothing melody she was creating.


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