AN: Okay this is important hence why it is at the top of the chapter! I have recently been moving around some internet things, and I have dedicated a Tumblr to all of my fic writing. There you can ask any questions you have about any of my fics, as well as inquire as to when updates will be coming, what's taking me so long, etc! I will also be posting alerts for when the chapters update and previews if I feel like it! I'll also post pictures that fit with the stories etc. Instead of using my LJ to post songs for chapters, they will instead be hosted on the tumblr. Among other things!

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I Love You More Than French Fries

Chapter Ten: You're a Bird of Summer

"When tears run down your face, it's alright, I'll take care of you. Things change so fast, so fast. We gotta slow down; breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out."

- Rivers by Kankouran

I was raised to believe that honesty was the best policy. "Always be truthful, Troy," my mother would say with a stern shake of her head. She was usually scolding me, demanding to know if I had in fact, not snacked on cookies and chips before dinner, or if I had simply been lying. "The truth is so rare and it is so important that we use it!" she would continue. "Being honest helps build trust, and trust helps build relationships. You must always be honest, Troy. You must always be truthful."

As difficult as it seemed, I worked hard to be honest. Of course, there were instances when honesty wasn't always the best policy, and it was a thin line between a little white lie that could spare someone's feelings, and a lie that was deceptive. As a kid, it was difficult to really figure out where those lines were, and how they all added up. I am sure I fumbled many times, but it still instilled that life lesson in me. The importance of being truthful.

I think I've lied more in the last year and a half than I have in my entire life.

It should be known up front that we didn't not tell Gabriella about Helen in an attempt to hurt her. We didn't not tell her because we thought she couldn't handle it. It was a difficult subject, and a lot of the time, I wonder exactly why we came to the conclusion we did, but I can promise anyone who asked that it was never our intention to keep her out of the loop forever. I'm pretty sure it was never our intention at all to keep her out of the loop. It was just pure circumstance.

That is where telling the truth and being honest becomes tricky. That is where the lines are ripped apart, erased, and completely forgotten. You can define the ways in which you believe things are right and things are wrong, but that doesn't mean that they will necessarily remain that way. That's because people never seem to factor in that you can't control everything. No matter what we say, and no matter how honest we are, we can't control the way things work. We can't manipulate the outcome of things. We simply have to go along with things as they come.

The problem with that is circumstance, issues, problems; they void all of our words. Actions speak louder, yada yada yada; so why would anyone believe that you had been honest, that you had meant what you said when you said it, when everything you did afterward completely negates it?

They wouldn't.

That was something I knew all too well.

When Gabriella and I were younger, we used to sit on the porch and eat pixie sticks, looking at the stars and talking about the future. As small children, we hoped that maybe next year, we would be taller. Faster. Stronger. Smarter. We hoped that the next day would be sunny, so that we could go swimming and maybe head up to the pier. We hoped that every summer would be like the last one before it.

When we were teenagers, we would hope that we would get into colleges. That high school maybe wouldn't be so awful when we returned in the fall. And as we progressed and got older, and started acknowledging that we had been in love since before we could remember, we started to hope that we would be together.

There was one instance, she was seventeen, and I was nineteen, and I will remember it like it was yesterday. We were sitting on the porch and the night was sticky with humidity. Our legs were entwined, tangled up in one another, and I'm not sure if we were too lazy too move or that our limbs were physically stuck together from the sweat. I sometimes think it was a little bit of both. Either way, we sat against the wall of the summer house, looking up at the constellations and shoving plastic tube after plastic tube of sugary powder into our mouths, just like we were kids. There was a pitcher of lemonade that I had spiked with vodka sitting beside us, and we were in that stage of feeling warm and tipsy; not drunk, just slightly buzzed. I wanted to stay there forever.

As if she were reading my mind, Gabriella rested her head on my shoulder and kissed my arm through the sleeve of my t-shirt. She yawned; the day and the long summer heat catching up with her, before she turned to me. "This has been a good summer," she said thoughtfully, and I looked down at her and smiled. She looked so happy in that moment, still so healthy, because it wouldn't be for a few months before she would start starving herself in an attempt to fit a false ideal. She looked beautiful, her skin glowing and tanned, her hair dark and wild. She wore nothing but a bikini top and a pair of denim shorts, and I found myself wondering on more than one occasion if I could take a peek at what was underneath without our parents walking in on us.

"As opposed to what?" I said with a laugh, drawing her closer. "Have you had a lot of bad summers? Cause I've been a part of most of them, and I can't say they were really even sort of awful."

Gabriella shook her head, her long curly hair falling over my arm and shoulder. "No, not like that! I just mean this summer is good. This summer feels nice. This summer…I like it. That's all."

A grin split across my face and I pressed a sloppy kiss to her forehead, feeling my heart grow so full I thought it might burst. "I'm glad," I said, drawing back and looking at her. She was so beautiful and our relationship, while it had been going on for a year, still felt so exciting and new to me. Sometimes I felt my chest get tight, just from the fact that she was mine. It was overwhelming. "I wouldn't want you having a bad summer."

She leaned up and grazed her lips across my jawline. "I don't think that's possible with you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Every day with you is like a fairytale."

"Well then," I said, still smiling. "I vow to make every single summer and every single day after this one even more magical than the last."

A beat passed and the air got heavier. Things shifted, and I could tell by the way she was looking at me that the conversation suddenly held more weight than it did a moment earlier. However, it didn't scare me, it didn't seem like it was pressing on my chest. It felt exciting; it felt right.

"Do you mean that?" Gabriella whispered softly. "Every single day?"

I nodded, my throat feeling tight with emotion. "Yeah," I said softly. "Of course."

Scooting even closer to me, Gabriella sat up, holding her herself up on her arms so she was looking down at me. Her hair draped over us like a curtain, shielding us from the outside world. "Every day? From now until well…from now until forever? From now until we grow old?"

Placing my hand on her cheek, I ran a thumb over her lips. "Yes," I said sincerely. "I promise. I want to be with you forever, Gabriella. I promise to love you forever."

A tear slipped from her eyes then and she leaned forward and kissed me. Dragging my hand into her hair, I pulled away from her and spoke against her lips.

"I promise to be with you forever."

And I meant it.

The next year, I broke that promise.

That's the problem with being honest. In that moment, when I promised to love and be with her forever, I meant it. If you asked me tomorrow, I would say that half of it is still true; I promise to love her forever. But we can't be together, and we aren't, and that makes it false.

Cause here's the thing about honesty; you may mean it, and you may believe in it, but the thing that is stronger than honesty is life, and life likes to fuck you over. When you least expect it, life does a number on you. Life changes your plans, alters your routes, and ruins your paths. Life takes honesty and makes it false.

Life makes you look like a liar.

So instead of seeming genuine, instead of seeming sincere, I seemed like I didn't mean the words I said. It seemed like I was just spouting them out in the heat of the moment, like all dumb young people in love do. Or that I meant them, but I only meant them in that moment.

I didn't. I meant them forever.

But how was Gabriella to know that? How as anyone but me to know that? Since I broke my promise, it seemed like I was lying. Why was anyone to believe me?

I've learned over the last year that it is easier not to tell the truth. The truth makes you vulnerable and the truth lets you down. It's easier to lie, easier to keep the truth and honesty hidden away in a box, only to look at when you reminisce. Remember how great it was? To be able to feel and to share that feeling and not worry about it coming back to haunt you?

We didn't not tell Gabriella about Helen because we wanted to hurt her. We didn't tell her because she herself was sick. We didn't tell her because we couldn't honestly say that everything would be okay. We didn't tell Gabriella because we didn't know how to be honest.

Or maybe we didn't want to.

Three Days Later

"Good morning, Maria," I greeted, smiling softly. I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "How are you?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm alright. How about you? Did you sleep alright?"

I shrugged. The truth was I slept like shit. I had tossed and turned all evening, listening to the sound of the waves outside. Other than that, the house was absolutely silent. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that I was home alone. As it was, the thoughts in my head, the ones that swirled around constantly, were more than enough to keep me busy. The same thoughts that had plagued my mind since days earlier. Same thoughts had been plaguing me for over a year.

"I slept okay," I said, not wanting to add another worry to her list. "How about you?"

"Oh, you know," she said with a smile, flipping the page of her magazine. "Okay."

I smiled back before leaning against the cabinets. The house was still eerily quiet. "Where is everyone?"

"Your mother and father took Helen to her appointment," Maria explained, "and Carmen and Alex went to the market. Eduardo is on the beach, surfing or something along those lines."

I frowned, noting that she had left someone out. "Where's Gabriella?"

Maria gestured to the backdoor. "She's on the porch with Flynn. She's been out there since she woke up."

I swallowed. "She um…she is still mad?"

Nodding, Maria sat back in her seat. "Yes. She didn't say anything to me when she came into the kitchen this morning. Just walked straight out from here to the porch, Flynn in hand."

"Oh," I said, quietly. "Um, has she…has she eaten anything today?"

"No," Maria shook her head. "She hasn't, and I am starting to get worried."

I felt a pit grow in my stomach. Gabriella already wasn't at her healthiest, given by her physical appearance. Having her continue to not eat was dangerous, and it wasn't something I was willing to risk at this point. I already was losing one person I loved to a physical illness. I couldn't lose Gabriella, too. Not when I could try to prevent it.

Biting my lip, I glanced around the kitchen. "Do you have any Nutella?" I asked, heading for the pantry. "And bananas?"

Maria nodded, and I glanced over at her. She seemed tired; her eyes rimmed with dark circles and her hair flat and laying heavy on her head. In all of the years that I had known her, I had seen her look like this on only a handful of occasions. She was always immaculate, always presentable. Her hair was always coiffed, her make up natural, but carefully applied; her clothes neatly pressed. I could still recall each time I had seen her look anything less than put together. Once was when she caught an unfortunate bout of season flu. The second time was when Gabriella was hospitalized. The third was Helen's diagnosis. The fourth would be now.

"The Nutella should be on the top shelf of the pantry, and there's bananas in the fruit bowl. There's bread on the counter-top if you want it."

"Thanks," I said with a nod, gathering the food. "I'm going to make some tea. Did you want any?"

"That would be lovely," she said with a genuine soft smile, and I felt my spirits raise a little higher.

Putting the water on, I took out two pieces of bread and carefully spread a thick amount of Nutella on each piece. Then I peeled the banana and sliced it, taking the small pieces and placing them on top of the chocolate spread. One more thin layer of Nutella, and I pressed the two pieces together. I cut the sandwich diagonally before preparing Gabriella and her mother a cup of tea. They took it exactly the same; one milk, one sugar.

Gathering the plate and the tea cup on a tray, I walked over to the backdoor, not without stopping to hand Maria a cup. As I continued on my way, she grabbed my arm, pulling me backwards.

"Troy," she said, looking up at me. "Thank you. Really. Gabriella is lucky to have you. We're all lucky to have you."

I smiled shyly. "Not as lucky as I am to have all of you, even after all of this," I said sincerely, before ducking out the door before she could stop me.

The weather was overcast that day, and as soon as I stepped out, I found myself wondering why Eduardo had bothered to go surfing. There couldn't be any good waves. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he was probably doing what we were all doing. Finding ways to get out of thinking of what was really happening.

Gabriella was curled up on one of the chairs, her feet tucked up underneath her, Flynn sitting in her lap. She looked out at the water, not acknowledging my presence, if she even knew I was there. She was wearing denim shorts and a thin white t-shirt, the strings of her bikini poking out around her neck. Her hair was piled up high on her head, and had this been a year ago, I would have gone over and kissed the flesh of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter underneath my lips. As it was, I merely cleared my throat, watching her head snap up to look at me.

"Hi," I said softly.

She blinked twice, scratching Flynn behind his ears. "Hi."

I cleared my throat again. "I um, brought you something to eat. Nutella and banana, your favourite."

She didn't say anything, just looked out to the water. I shifted from one foot to another, before sitting down at the seat beside her. Flynn let out a bark, wagging his tail at me.

"Hi, buddy," I leaned over to let him lick my hand, and Gabriella stiffened. I frowned. "How about you help me get your mommy to eat something, okay?"

Flynn barked in approval and I smiled. Gabriella rolled her eyes. "I'm not hungry."

"Gabriella," I said, feeling exasperated. The last few days had been so tiring, even more tiring than usual. "You haven't eaten anything all day, and I'm pretty sure you weren't at dinner last night either. So just do me a favor and eat."

"I told you, I'm not hungry."

I felt my throat grow tight. "Gabriella," I said, my voice pained. She looked over at me, and I saw something flicker over her face; as if she saw how upset I was. "Please, just eat something. I can't…I can't have you sick, too."

Still not saying anything, she took the tray from my hands and began to rip the sandwich into small pieces. I watched as she took one and brought it to her mouth, nibbling carefully.

"Thank you," I whispered. "That's all I wanted."

We sat in silence for several moments as we looked out to the water. Gabriella ate a few more pieces of her sandwich, slowly, still nibbling, but it was better than nothing. I cleared my throat, wanting to initiate conversation. Wanting to know that she was okay.

"Too bad it's so cloudy out," I said, feeling desperate. "Otherwise today would have been a perfect beach day."

"Hmm," Gabriella responded, and I felt myself deflate even further.

I clenched my hands, itching for something to say. "Um, did you maybe want to go see a movie later? We could do that, I mean...I feel like we should...talk."

Gabriella looked at me then, pausing mid bite. "Talk?" she said slowly.

I swallowed. "Yeah...talk."

Shaking her head, she ripped the piece of bread she was holding into even smaller pieces. "Oh, so now you want to talk."

"Gabriella I—"

"Why didn't anyone tell me, Troy?" she said, her voice steady and strong. She looked at me with angry eyes and I felt my heart ache. "I love her, too. She might not be mylittle sister, but she's as much a part of my family as everyone else. What did I do that I deserved to not know? What did I do that I deserved to be completely left out of the loop?"

I looked down, swallowing thickly. At the time, not telling Gabriella had made so much sense. Now, looking back on it, it seemed so wrong. So cruel. "I…you were sick, too…"

"So, what, you thought I couldn't handle it?" She asked, her eyes shining. "You thought poor, sick Gabriella was gonna starve herself because she found out someone else was worse off than her? Is that it?"

"No!" I said, shaking my head. "You were sick and things were hard. No one thought that it was fair to you to put more on your plate. You were so…you were so fragile, Gabriella. No one wanted to make things even harder for you, no one wanted you to relapse—"

Gabriella laughed bitterly. "So what, your solution was to not tell me, and then you broke up with me? Everyone was so worried that I would fall apart because of Helen, but you decided to break up with me! You decided that you didn't love me! What a smart man you were."

"It wasn't that easy, Gabriella," I felt my eyes cloud with tears. "It wasn't as easy as me just deciding that I didn't love you. That wasn't the case, you know that wasn't the case. When Helen was diagnosed with diabetes while you were in treatment, it was hard. She's just a kid! And it was something that my parents had worried about me getting my entire life, and finally it seemed like I was in the clear and then she gets sick. My poor, baby sister is stuck with a chronic disease that she will have to deal with for her entire life. This is on top of the fact that my girlfriend, the person I love more than anyone in the world, also has a chronic disease. It was so fucking hard to deal with."

My composure broke then and I ran a hand through my hair, the tears falling from my eyes before I could stop them. "And then, even worse, right before you get out of treatment we find out that we caught the disease too late. We find out that diabetes can cause organs to fail, and my tiny little sister's kidney is slowly, but surely failing, and no one can find a transplant for her because her blood type is rare. I found out my sister was dying while trying to handle that my girlfriend almost died, and you think that it was just a matter of me not telling you because you couldn't handle it? That I broke up with you because I thought you weren't strong enough and didn't want to deal with it? No, Gabriella, I broke up with you because I couldn't handle it. I couldn't watch you die, I didn't want to, and I was too scared to do anything but watch out for myself. I'm a selfish, selfish man, but I love you and I am sorry I fucked things up so badly. But my sister is dying, and she will continue to die, and I don't know what else to tell you except for that I am sorry. I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry."

I felt a small, wet tongue on my face, and opened my eyes to see Flynn standing on his hind legs, attempting to lap up my tears. He whined slightly, his eyes round as they looked up at me. I glanced over at Gabriella, feeling my heart break at the tears that streamed down her face; at the hand that was pressed over her mouth. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, and I wanted to go over and hold her. But what would I say? What would I do? All I had done was hurt her, continued to hurt her with my words, with my actions. How could I ever make that all better?

I looped my hands around Flynn and settled him down in my lap, taking deep breaths trying to regain my composure. Across from me, I heard Gabriella continue to cry.

Moments passed, with nothing but the sounds of our tears and breaths and Flynn's occasional whining filling the air. The waves crashed and the seagulls called, but neither of us said anything.

Finally, Gabriella spoke. "You had no right to make that decision for me," she said, "none of you did. None of you had the right to decide not to tell me. I may be sick, but I am strong, too, Troy. None of you had the right to make that decision for me. None of you had the right to decide that I wouldn't be able to handle it."

I shook my head, looking at her, my eyes sore and heavy. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"And you never had the right to decide that it was okay for you to end things. You didn't, Troy. We had been a team since we were kids. It was you and me, and I would have…I would have tried to help you. I…you had no right."

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Because now…now…" she let out a gasp and the tears came flooding back. "Now you've ruined it. Now things are even worse. Now…now I don't know if anything will ever be the same."

I heard footsteps approach and Flynn let out a bark. Eduardo was coming up the stairs, his hair wet, his board trailing along side him. He glanced between the two of us, the lines on his face seeming more prominent. "Is everything okay?"

With that, Gabriella let out a sob before jumping off from her chair and running into the house. Flynn let out another bark before leaping off my lap and trailing after her.

Her sandwich sat on the tray, still in pieces. Her tea was untouched.

Later that evening, I was the kind of tired that felt like it would never go away. The kind that no matter how long I slept, I would just wake up feeling sleepy. Like I'd drift through the days with heavy eyes and fuzzy thoughts. As if I could fall asleep at any second.

Yet my mind was racing. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I tried to occupy my time, I found myself constantly thinking. Constantly moving. Pacing around my room, replaying my conversation with Gabriella over and over. I tried watching some television, but nothing was holding my attention, and I found myself comparing every girl on screen to Gabriella. She was thinner, she was prettier, her voice sounded better.

I found myself looking at every kid and wondering if they were healthy, or if they were sick, too.

When television failed, I tried cleaning; organizing the large bookshelf tucked away in the corner of my room. I had attempted collecting paperback novels the summer I was eighteen, Gabriella in tow. We had gone to small local shop after small local shop, gathering the silliest books we could find. The oldest books we could find. The most romantic, most adventurous, most erotic, most anything of every kind of book possible. I had planned to read them all, eventually, but the next summer I was too wrapped up in Gabriella to be bothered, and the next summer was the worst and loneliest of my life, so I never really got around to it.

But going through the books only further made me think about everything that was wrong. I could match each book with a memory of when Gabriella and I had gotten it. Could remember how we laughed over some of the titles and how Gabriella had seemed genuinely interested in a few of them. Eventually, I gave up organizing the bookshelf, too.

I attempted to lift some weights, figuring I might as well be productive, and maybe work off some of the stress, but again, it was too quiet. There were too many silences in between the lifting of each weight to really erase what I was thinking.

So I did the only thing I could think of doing. I went to my closet, looked under piles of junk and old clothes, and retrieved an old basketball..

As much as basketball wasn't a part of my life anymore—despite my avid love for it in high school, and while I had played in college, I gave it up last year—it still was what I went back to when I had nothing else. Basketball was something I was good at, almost unfailingly. I had been told so many times in high school that it was something I could pursue professionally, but by the time I was seventeen, I hadn't really had the same interest. I was exploring different things, realizing that school was more than just social hour, and I was in love, and that was making me realize there was more to life, too.

Still, in moments like this, basketball was a comfort. Basketball was home. So slipping on my sneakers, I headed outside.

Down near the driveway, past the porch, but not on the beach, Ed and my dad had installed something of a rickety basketball hoop years ago. It never really got used; even as a kid I wanted to spend my summers swimming and surfing and digging for shells over bouncing a ball on the asphalt. Somehow, it always came in handy on nights like tonight.

I bounced the ball once, then twice. There wasn't a whole lot of air in it, but I had no idea where my pump was. I bounced it once more before aiming towards the net and throwing it. It bounced off the net and rebounded.

I made a move to turn behind me to grab it, thinking it odd that I never heard it hit the ground. When I turned around fully though, I felt myself stiffen.

There was a reason it never hit the ground. It was in the hands of Sharpay Evans.

Holding the ball, she smiled awkwardly, even a little shyly. "Hi, Troy!" she said, her voice still peppy. She was wearing the shortest hot pink shorts I had ever seen and a sheer white lace top, her bikini top visible underneath. Her hair was in curls down her shoulders, her face full of make up. I instantly felt my eyes grow heavier. I couldn't deal with her now.

"What are you doing here, Sharpay?" I asked bluntly.

She blinked, visibly taken aback. "I just thought I'd come by. I…you…we haven't seen each other since…since…"

"Since when, Sharpay?" I cut her off.

"Since, well, you know, since we—"

"Since you were a bitch to Gabriella and then Chloe Anders ripped out a chunk of your hair?"

She flushed then, her face as bright as her shorts and ducked her head. "Um, yeah. I just…I wanted to apologize."

I nodded, setting my jaw. "Okay," I said, "Thanks. You can go now."

Turning the ball over in her hands, she still didn't look at me. "Troy, I am really sorry about what I said."

"Okay," I said, nodding once more. "Can I have my ball back?"

Her head snapped up then, eyes flashing violently. "Don't be rude, Troy," she barked. "I'm trying to apologize."

"See the thing about apologies, Sharpay," I spit, "is that you have to fucking mean them. And you? You never mean them. So can you give me my ball and leave?"

Sharpay glared at me, before taking my basketball, turning around and hurtling it towards the beach. I let out a groan.

"Seriously?" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. "You are five fucking years old. Just go home."

"No!" she said with a stomp of her foot. "Not until you let me apologize and you forgive me!"

"Fine!" I yelled. "I forgive you, now go home."

Sharpay folded her arms over her chest. "No, you don't. I'm sorry for just showing up here out of the blue like this, but you haven't spoken to me in days. I didn't bother calling cause I knew you wouldn't answer, and I just want to say I am sorry about what I said."

I narrowed my eyes. I had known Sharpay a long time; almost as long as I had known Gabriella, and I knewher. I knew that she was good underneath it all, but I knew that it took a lot to find it. And I knew that despite what she was saying, her being here wasn't laced with good intentions.

"Are you really, though, Sharpay? Cause history tells me you're not," I folded my own arms over my chest. "You're just upset cause I'm mad. Be honest, if I hadn't gotten upset, if I hadn't been just as mad at you as everyone else, you wouldn't even be here. You're not here because you're sorry that you said something fucking awful to Gabriella. You're here because you're upset that I'm mad at you."

She flinched, and bit her lip, and I knew that I was right. "I am sorry about what I said….but I can't help it! I have word vomit, you know that!"

I sighed then and looked at her. She looked small and made up and everything that I didn't want. "I know that, Sharpay, I do. But that's not an excuse. That doesn't make it justifiable. That isn't some charming trait I can use to just pass over your words. 'Oh, Sharpay has word vomit, ha ha ha.' I know that you do, I know that you don't think before you act and you act purely on emotion and impulse. But I can't…I can't just let it go this time."

"What do you mean?" she said quickly, her voice sounding nervous.

"I just mean…" I let out another breath. "I like you, Sharpay, I do. And I forgive you. But we can't be friends anymore."

Her face fell then and I saw her cheeks heat up anymore. "What? Why? Troy, we've been friends for years!"

"No, Sharpay, we haven't. As much as we pretended, we were never friends. You always wanted something more and I never wanted anything at all. And you…you knew I loved…love Gabriella, and you worked so hardthese past few weeks to make her life miserable. You went to her work and harassed her. You were so mean to her for no reason. Did you think that was going to work? Did you think…did you think it would make me love you instead?"

Sharpay ran a hand through her hair. "No, I didn't, Troy, I just…don't be silly, okay? We can still be friends."

I shook my head. "No, we can't Sharpay. Not when you feel like this and I feel the exact opposite. Not when whatever you are feeling makes you into this person. You're better than that."

"Troy, no, we can still be friends. I promise I will be nicer, I'll be better, I swear."

"I know you will, Sharpay," I closed my eyes. "But you can't do it this way. You just…you crossed the line this time, and there is just…I have too much shit going on right now. I can't…I don't want you in my life fucking things up and making it harder just because I am in love with someone who is not you."

It was harsh, and maybe it was the toll of the day wearing me thin, but I couldn't think of any other way to cushion what I was trying to say. So I just said it, despite feeling like shit at the look on her face.

Her eyes filled with tears and she looked down. "Do you think…do you think there's anyway that maybe…one day, we—"

"No," I said, cutting her off. "I don't."

I couldn't be with someone like Sharpay. Someone who always thought about want, want, want all of the time.

She rolled her eyes. "I just…I just hateher okay? She doesn't deserve you."

"You're right," I said, "she deserves better."

She narrowed her eyes and chuckled darkly. "Oh please, Troy. Don't feed me that bullshit. She's dating my brother, now. She doesn't even love you."

"That doesn't change anything, Sharpay," I said once more. "That doesn't change how I feel."

"He lovesher, Troy."

I looked at her then, not even flinching at her words. "He barely knows her, Sharpay," I said, feeling confident in my words. "He doesn't love her. He doesn't know her. Not like I do."

With that, I put my hand on the doorknob, turning to go back inside. "Troy, you deserve better!" Sharpay said quickly, as if those fleeting words would suddenly change my mind. As if I would suddenly think she the wiser option and take back everything I had just said.

"Maybe I do deserve better, Sharpay," I didn't look at her. "But Gabriella? She's not better. Gabriella? She's the best, and I sure as hell don't deserve her."

A couple of tears fell from Sharpay's eyes and I felt my heart lurch. I didn't want to hurt her feelings either, I just didn't know how to go about this any other way. "It's not fair," she sniffled. "It's just not fair."

"Life isn't fair, Sharpay," I said.

With that, I turned around and walked back inside. Things seemed quieter now, and as I began to make my way through the kitchen and up the stairs, I paused, hearing the murmur of voices coming from the living room.

Someone was crying.

I turned around carefully, peering over my shoulder to make sure it wasn't Sharpay. However, as I looked out to the porch, I could see that she wasn't there, and the sound of a car pulling away echoed in the distant. That definitely meant it was coming from the living room.

Moving quietly, I walked over to the living room, peering through the doorway to peak inside to see who was in the living room, and who was crying.

Carmen sat on the sofa, holding a box of Kleenex. Beside her, curled into a small ball and crying inconsolably, was Gabriella.

My heart tightened and I turned away from the doorway immediately. I didn't want her to see me for fear of interrupting. Leaning against the wall adjacent to the door, I swallowed, trying to quiet my breathing.

"I just don't know what to do, Car," I could hear her say. "I don't understand this. I…why did it have to be Helen? She's so young. She's so tiny. She's so...little."

I heard Carmen sigh. "I don't know, Gabi. These things just happen. You knew diabetes runs in the Bolton's family. You knew there was a chance any of them could get sick at any time."

Gabriella sniffled. "I know that," she said through her tears. "I know that. When we were little, Lucille and Jack were always monitoring things with Troy. They were always trying to make sure that they could prevent it in him. I just don't understand why Helen got it, and got it so severely, at such a young age."

"No one knows those things," Carmen let out a sigh. "Last summer, you know I wasn't up here. But I got phone calls from mom; I tried to be involved as much as possible because I…I didn't want to hear bad news about you. So imagine my surprise when I heard that it was Helen going to the doctor all of the time."

Gabriella let out another sob. "But it's treatable, I know it is. So I don't understand how she got so sick so quickly."

"It was caught a little too late, I think."

"But how?" Gabriella sounded exasperated. "They were always monitoring Troy. How could they let this go undetected?"

Carmen paused then and I closed my eyes. I had wondered the same thing, every day, for over a year. How had my parents, my crazy, super attentive parents, not noticed that Helen was sick? How had her little body gotten so sick, so quickly?

"The symptoms weren't there until it progressed further. You know these things can go undetected; you're a science student. And by the time things were diagnosed and they managed to get her sugar level under control with insulin, they discovered that her kidney function was declining."

Gabriella sniffled again. "Give me some Kleenex," she said, and I heard her blow her nose. "I just…I know that diabetes can cause organ failure, I know that. But Helen? How can her kidneys be failing? Why isn't she on dialysis?"

"It's a slow process, Gabs. It's not like she's gonna wake up one day and she's…" Carmen swallowed, unable to finish her sentence. "It doesn't happen over night. That's what the medication you found was for. The benazepril? It slows down kidney failure."

"So what are her options? Mom and Lucy explained it to me, but I'm still...I still don't know for sure."

"Well," Carmen cleared her throat. "a transplant is essentially what she needs, but her blood type is rare and transplants are hard to come by as it is. At the moment, I think the plan is to just…continue on with the medication and hope that she can hold out for a transplant."

Another sniff. "And a transplant? That will cure her?"

"It won't cure her, you know that, Gabi," Carmen said, sounding tired. "I know it is difficult, but look at this realistically. She has diabetes and it is a chronic condition, but she will be able to live normally with it. So a transplant will definitely save her from…you know. And then we can only hope that she goes through life with as few complications as possible."

There was a long pause then, and I had almost thought that their conversation was over until I heard Gabriella chuckle lightly. "I thought that it was Troy sick, did you know that? I saw him in the kitchen one day getting a couple of the pills and I thought he was taking them. It all made sense to me. Then I find out that it's Helen that's sick, Helen who needs the medication, and then only reason Troy had it was because he's the only one who can get her to take it without a fuss."

"He's good at that," Carmen said softly. "He's good at taking care of people."

"He is," Gabriella said just as softly.

Another beat passed before I heard Gabriella sob. "I just…I'm so mad, Carmen. I am so mad at him, at you, at everyone, but mostly I'm mad because Helen is…Helen is dying. And I love her. I love her, she's like my little sister. I was there when she was born, I held her when she was the length of my arm. I taught her how to jump rope. And the whole time, these past few weeks I have been acting so selfishand caring about nothing but my problems. My problems with Troy, my problems with myself. I should have been with her, I should have been…I should have been making it count."

"Gabriella," Carmen interjected. "It's not your fault. You didn't know, and that is our fault."

"I just wish…I wish I had known. Then I wouldn't have wasted so much time. Helen can't die, Carmen. She can't. I don't know what to do…what do I do?" Gabriella sounded near hysterical at this point. "Just tell me there's something I can do. I've been doing research since I found out and there's so little I can do. "

"There is nothing you can do, Gabriella," Carmen said. "This is life and it sucks sometimes. But just…just love her and that will be enough."

"I don't want her to die, Carmen," Gabriella sobbed. "I can't let her die."

At this point, my throat was tight and my stomach was in knots. I brushed the tears that were streaming down my own face off with the back of my hand. I couldn't stand there and listen to her anymore. I couldn't.

I merged from around the corner and heard Carmen pause mid-sentence. "Troy?" she said and I glanced over at her. Her hair was in a bun on the top of her head, her eyes red and watery. "I…were you…did you, um, overhear?"

I nodded slowly before kneeling down in front of Gabriella. She looked up at me, crying so hard she was hiccupping, before she wrapped her arms around my neck and collapsed.

I immediately pulled her closer, feeling her warm body press against mine before burying my head into her neck, feeling my hot tears spill out from my eyes.

"I'll…I'll leave you two alone," I heard Carmen say with a sniffle before she made a quick exit.

Minutes passed, the two of us a heap on the floor, crying and clutching one another. Eventually, I lifted her up and we laid down on the couch, still crying, still tangled. I didn't know where she began and where I started.

"Troy," she said sadly, her eyes leaking onto my shirt. "I don't know what to do."

Pressing my lips to her forehead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled her tighter against me. "I don't know either, Gabi," I whispered against her skin. "I don't know neither."

We laid like that until we fell asleep.

"Troy!" I felt a small tap on my face. "Troy! Troy! Wake up! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes, feeling the warm sunlight on my face and blinked. Long light brown hair pooled over my eyes and face and I coughed slightly. "Yay, you're awake!"

Helen had crawled up and was laying on my torso, her small body warm and light. I felt her pulse fluttering quickly against my chest. I smiled brightly at her. "Morning, Len."

She grinned toothily at me. "Good morning!" she giggled. "Come on and have some food! Mama and Maria made pancakes and bacon and it is yummy!"

I laughed. "Okay, okay, slow down," I said, struggling to sit up. "And move it, will you? You're too heavy for me."

Helen sat up then, still sitting on my stomach. "I am not! I am just really strong and full of muscle!" she flexed her tiny arms then and I laughed once more.

"Yeah, Len," I said, feeling my heart squeeze. "You're super strong."

I sat up then and tucked my sister into my body. Sometimes it was hard to realize that she was even sick. Some days she seemed fine, she seemed normal, and she seemed healthy. Other days she was dizzy, other days she slept the hours away. But there were moments like this when I almost thought that it was all a dream. That her kidney wasn't failing and she wasn't dying.

She stiffened in my arms. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Still holding her tightly against my chest, I swallowed before pressing my lips to the top of her head. "I'm okay," I said, my voice quiet. "Are you? Are you feeling okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'm feeling okay. The pancakes made me feel good."

"Good," I said, pressing another kiss to her head. "Good."

Helen shifted in my arms, wrapping her tiny hands around my bicep. "Troy, why are you on the couch?"

I blinked, taking in my surroundings and realized that I was still in the living room. That I had woken up alone. Gabriella must have woken up some time ago. Though I could swear that an hour earlier when I had stirred, she was still in my arms. Or maybe she had left half way through the night.

"I just fell asleep here, Lenny," I explained. "It was a long day."

"Oh," Helen said, yawning slightly. "Was Gabi so tired that she just fell asleep on top of you?"

I looked at her, startled. "What?"

Helen shrugged. "When I woke up you and Gabi were all tangled up on the couch. Was it like that time at the fair when I was so tired I just fell asleep when Daddy was carrying me?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "It was like that."

"Oh," Helen said once more. "Will you help me take my medicine?"

I nodded before scooping her up in my arms. "You bet, Len. We'll go do that now."

Holding her against me, I walked to the kitchen while she babbled in my ear about the shells Robert and Carmen had promised to help her collect later in the day. When we entered the kitchen, however, I could immediately sense there was tension.

My parents were leaning against the counter, my father nursing a mug of coffee and my mother stood with her hands against her mouth. Flynn paced the floor by his water bowl, wagging his tail and looking from person to person. Carmen was seated at the table, her hands pressed to her temples with Alex by her side, rubbing her back comfortingly. Across from her were her parents, Ed will his arms folded over his chest and Maria looking positively alarmed. At the end of the table sat Gabriella, her hair messy and her eyes puffy, a stack of papers and her laptop in front of her.

"Gabriella," Maria said, "do you realize what you are suggesting? This isn't something that you just…you just decide and then undecide. This is a big decision."

"I know that, Mom," Gabriella said, her mouth set in a thin line. "I know that. I'm not taking this lightly."

"Gabriella, honey," my mom said, looking tired. "It's not that we think you are taking this lightly, it's just that…well, you woke up and announced this…it's rather sudden."

"It wouldn't be sudden if you all had just told me, you know."

"Gabriella!" Eduardo snapped. "Now is not the time."

"No, it's not," Carmen piped in. "So let's not get all dramatic because it is just making this seem even more irrational. Gabriella, are you sure this is something you want?"

Gabriella sighed and nodded. "Yes! I've been doing my research, I've been looking into things. There's a good chance I'm a match and if you had all just let me in instead of keeping me in the dark, you would have known this sooner!"

"Gabriella, we could never ask you do this," my dad said. "It's risky…"

I felt my heart speed up and Helen clutched onto the sleeve of my shirt. "What's risky?" I finally asked. "What's going on?"

All eyes in the kitchen snapped to me and for a moment, no one said anything. I looked from person to person, feeling more anxious by the second. "Well?" I asked again. "What's going on?"

Maria let out a sigh. "Gabriella…has some interesting news."

I swallowed. "And what's that?"

Gabriella turned to look at me then, her eyes wide and determined. "I have been doing some research and looked into some things over the last few days. I've made a decision. I think I might be a match and if so, I want to be a donor for Helen. I want to give her one of my kidneys."

OKAY. So it's been a while! I started school and it was honestly the worst semester of my life and I was so, so, so busy for a while. Then I thought I would have time to update over Christmas break, but I was super busy during all of that, too! Now this semester seems a lot quieter and therefore I have a lot more free time, so hopefully I will be able to dedicate a little more time to writing!

I KNOW, THIS WAS A PRETTY BIG CHAPTER. There were a lot of details that I really had to think on before I moved forward with this, so I am glad I didn't just throw it together. This is also why it took so long!

LOTS OF THANK YOUS, THOUGH! Number one to all of you for sticking with this fic and pestering me for updates! I appreciate it so much! It really helps me to stay motivated.

To Arlyn, who is so super lovely and always makes my day with her thoughtful messages and encouragements/pestering to see if I am writing! And for her lipstick hunting skills.

AND TO MY BETAS, JULINA AND KIRSTEN. They helped SO MUCH with this chapter, it wouldn't even be here without them. They gave such wonderful input as I was writing this sucker and really helped me make sure I was fleshing out as much as possible! Kirsten also helped with so much of the medical stuff, which I reallllly appreciate, cause I am a media student and what do I know?

That said: please always give me a head's up if any of my medical information is inaccurate! I am trying to be vague about it while being detailed as to leave no room for error, but as I said: media student.

So tracks for this chapter are on my new ~tumblr~ please check them out, they are lovely.