Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. Although, if I had a genie, I would wish that I did. Right now, I wish I had a genie. How impractical. I should just wish for High School Musical.

I'm warning you right now: I don't think this story came out as well as I originally hoped, but after over a month of editing and changing it, I've given up. So, I am posting it as it is…Sorry if it's not "fantastalicious," as my friend says.

Uncomfortable

Troy looked up at her, watching her carefully. Her eyes were focused, her jaw set. Her natural curls framed her face and made her skin appear to glow. From his position, his head resting on her lap, he had the perfect view of her. Her hands were gently stroking his hair, occasionally twisting a few locks around her fingers. Her feet were up on the coffee table and she was slumped in her seat on the couch. The soft material of her sweatpants would occasionally rub against his face, making him smile. She wasn't dressed up and neither was he. She was wearing old sweatpants and a form-fitting T-shirt. He was wearing jeans, a tee shirt, and he had recently discarded his jacket. They had no one to impress; it was just them. They were friends, and, contrary to popular belief, they were not dating. They had been best friends since the Wildcats' victory over the Knights and the scholastic decathlon victory. They told each other everything, they hid nothing. They were closer than any couple could be emotionally.

She had seen him at his most vulnerable point; sobbing into her chest, hysterical after discovering that his grandfather suffered a severe heart-attack. He had seen her at her most vulnerable point; going to visit her father in the hospital after hearing that he had been struck by a car; encountering her stepmother at the hospital and exchanging harsh greetings; breaking down in the elevator, crying uncontrollably, begging her father not to leave her.

Neither was dating; they saw no reason to. They were happy being single. They would find that 'special someone' later on in life. Both had rejected many offers in the past few months, laughing about it with each other later. When he told her about how Christy Newburg asked him out, she thought she might die from laughing so hard. When she told him about Lucas's technique, he chuckled, but she could see something flashing in his eyes; his fists were clenched and his jaw was set. She'd walked to him, sitting on his lap, weaving her arms around his neck, cooing that he needn't worry; she wasn't going to replace her best friend anytime soon. He laughed, looking away, but when he looked back, his smile was genuine.

While they might have told each other everything and kept nothing secret, they lied to themselves every day.

Every day when he woke up, Troy convinced himself that all he felt towards Gabriella was brotherly love. He didn't want to feel her lips pressed against his; he didn't want to see his class ring shining on her finger; he didn't want the first thing he heard in the morning to be the sound of her voice; he didn't want to put on his jacket, discovering the scent of her perfume, lingering around the collar; he didn't want to be the boy whose hand she grabbed at the movies when she was scared; he didn't want to be the one she ran to when there was no where to go; he didn't love her. Yeah…right.

Every morning when Gabriella looked at her tired reflection in her bathroom mirror, she persuaded herself that the flutter in her heart when Troy touched her was a figment on her imagination. That sensation of her legs turning to jelly when she looked in his eyes wasn't real; the warmth that spread around her abdomen when he placed his jacket over her shoulders was her mind playing tricks on her; those quiet sighs that escaped her lips were because she was tired, not because she loved the scent of cologne mixed with teenaged boy that was Troy Bolton; the way her eyes light up when she sees him is because he's her best friend, not because she loves him.

Suddenly, Gabriella looked down and met his gaze, smiling at him. She brushed his bangs out of his eyes, letting her fingers linger on his forehead. He grinned back, closing his eyes and exhaling.

"Are you having fun watching me?" Troy nodded, his eyes still closed.

"As a matter of fact, I was." Gabriella giggled and let her head fall back against the back of the couch. He was too perfect and she had to admit it; she was completely in love with him. There was only one problem; he thought of her as a sister and falling in love with your sister was morally wrong.

"Well, I'm sorry to ruin your fun, but I have to get up now. And that means that you have to get up." Troy groaned, crossing his arms.

"No, come on Gabriella. Don't get up; I'm really comfortable." Gabriella smiled at him, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're lucky to have a friend like me," she whispered back. "Any other girl would have thrown you off by now." Troy's eyes opened slowly, his grin spreading.

"You don't have to tell me twice. I know I got lucky." Gabriella blushed, sitting back again. She mumbled something incoherent, and returned her eyes to the television. Silence settled around them. Gabriella was struggling to stay focused on the program she had previously been interested in and Troy was wracking his brain for something to say. "What do you cry about?" Troy squeezed his eyes shut; cursing himself for letting the words slip through his lips. Gabriella frowned slightly. Where had that come from?

"What? What are you talking about?" Troy sighed. He might as well just go with it now. He sat up and grabbed the remote, hitting the mutebutton. He turned to face her.

"What makes you cry? And I don't mean, 'look at the poor puppy that doesn't have a home' crying. I mean, bawling your eyes out, unable to stop, heavy breathing-type crying." Gabriella smiled and then stood, stretching out her arms. "Hey, where are you going?" She rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to get something to drink. I'll answer your question in a minute. You have to give me time to think about my answer anyway. Do you want anything?" Troy shrugged, crossing his legs on the couch.

"Anything that you have in liquid form that isn't beer, vodka, or…"

"…fruit juice," she said, finishing his sentence. "I know, you've said it before. I was just wondering if today, by any chance, you had a special preference." Troy grinned at her.

"You should know better than that; I like being difficult." Gabriella rolled her eyes again, moving towards the kitchen.

"I shall return momentarily." Troy chuckled. He heard the clinking of glasses and the hum of the refrigerator before she returned, holding two glasses. "Diet Coke," she said, handing him one of the glasses, "with lime." Troy smiled, taking a sip.

"My favorite. You know me too well, Montez; much too well." Gabriella tipped her glass to him.

"And vice versa, Bolton." Troy smiled, setting his glass down on the table before taking Gabriella's from her and setting it down besides his. He then grabbed her hand and pulled her down on top of him. They were now lying down, his head resting on the arm of the couch, her head resting on his chest. His arms found her waist and held her close. Troy forgot about his question momentarily and they laid together in silence. They watched the people on the television move, both attempting to read their lips. Gabriella began gently tracing circles on his chest with her finger and he smiled to himself.

"Hey, do you remember that time that we snuck into the park at midnight?" Gabriella giggled, nodding.

"Yeah, that was so much fun." Troy smiled to himself.

"Remember how you were too scared to climb the fence?" Gabriella blushed. "And I had to coax you over for a good fifteen minutes?" Troy felt Gabriella wincing. "But, hey, you made it over."

"Yeah, and then I fell at the top and landed on you." Troy grinned, stroking her hair.

"I didn't mind," he murmured. "Oh, uh, I mean…you know…it didn't hurt," he covered lamely. Gabriella smiled, changing the shape she was tracing on his chest to squares.

"Yeah, it wasn't painful." She changed her tone to a joking one, "You're really squishy." Troy gasped playfully, poking her side gently.

"And then I chased you around the baseball field for, like, twenty minutes and you tripped." Gabriella nodded.

"Yeah, yeah…but you caught me," she reminded him. Troy nodded.

"That I did," he agreed, stroking her hair. "But only because I hate it when you cry and if you fell, you would have cried." Gabriella giggled.

"Well, in any case, it was very sweet of you." She sighed happily. "Oh, and remember when we chased each other around the playground and you dove, head first, down the slide?" Troy let out a burst out laughter.

"Shut up; how was I supposed to know that my body was actually longer than the slide?" Gabriella's body was shaking with giggles.

"Your hair…" she gasped, "was covered…in sand. That was…so funny."

"Yeah," Troy smirked, "about as funny as when you got stuck on top of the monkey bars. I could see right up your shorts, by the way." Gabriella gasped, slapping his chest. "I love the turquoise," he whispered. Gabriella's cheeks flushed.

"Troy, you're such a jerk, you know that." He grinned, kissing the top of her head.

"But that's why you love me." Gabriella giggled, still embarrassed.

"You wish, Bolton, you wish." Troy shrugged.

"Hey, I gave it a shot. But just you wait, Montez, I'll charm you yet." Gabriella rolled her eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but she loved every minute to their banter. Their conversation seemed to have stopped, and they were left with silence.

"So, back to my question," Troy said. "What makes you cry, uh, other than tripping in the park?" Gabriella bit her lip. She had two options; one, she could lie and talk about her father and stepmother, or two; she could tell the truth and risk their friendship. Hell no. He is way too important to risk. Besides, he'll believe that I cry about my dad; he was with me at the hospital.

"You do." Gabriella's eyes widened as soon as the words left her mouth. Oh, my God. Troy frowned, looking down at the petite brunette lying on his chest.

"I make you cry? Why…how…what…how do I make you cry? Other than tripping you in the park, of course." He sounded utterly confused. Gabriella sighed, abandoning all hope of getting out of this. She might as well just spill her guts and get it over with.

"Every night, I sit in my bed and I cry, thinking about you. And I wonder, is it possible for him to think of me as more than just a little sister? And every day, I get up and I am, once again, disappointed. Believe me, I love what we have; this untouchable relationship. I love being able to talk to you about anything and I love that you're able to talk to me about anything and it never feels awkward or weird. But I want more than that." She clutched the fabric of his tee shirt in her fists and struggled to hold in her tears. "And I don't even know how to describe it. All I know is that this, to me, is not enough. It's wonderful beyond all reason, but I want more." Troy held her waist and she was silent, watching the muted figures on the television set.

"Brie, is it bad that I feel awkward now?" Gabriella squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he couldn't see her face; if he could, he didn't let on. This was not the response she had been hoping, praying, and wishing for. She'd been dreaming about how he would react if she ever told him, and this was not how she'd imagined it. She'd pictured hugs and kisses, but not this. Not him feeling awkward.

She should have kept her mouth shut.

"No, it would be weird if you didn't." Troy nodded, his eyes still glued to the top of her head. He couldn't see her face anymore and it was driving him crazy. He couldn't read her emotions by looking at her hair.

"Is it bad that I want to get up?" Gabriella struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill over her eyelids. She slowly pulled away from him and stood up, retreating to the opposite side of the couch.

"No," she whispered shakily. "It's not bad." He stood up, grabbing the back of his neck, unsure of what to do next. "If you want to leave…I understand. You're clearly uncomfortable now." Her voice was cracking with every word she spoke. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself, slowly rocking back and forth. He sat down closer to her, looking her in the eye.

"Is it bad that I want to do this?" Gabriella continued to look down.

"Do what?" she asked quietly.

"This," he said, placing a finger under her chin. He pulled her up to look him in the eye, and before she could respond, she felt his lips pressing against her own. He pulled away quickly, afraid of going too far. It was meant to show her that he liked her as much as she liked him. He saw that her eyes were closed and her cheeks were stained with tears. Her breathing was ragged and her knuckles were white as she gripped a pillow.

"Are you playing with me?" she asked hoarsely. "Is this some sort of sick joke?" He smiled, bringing his hand to rest on her cheek.

"Gabriella, I'm not playing with you. This isn't a joke." Her eyes opened gradually and her hand rose to rest atop his.

"So you…you like me…l-like that?" Troy nodded, watching her eyes flood with tears. She grabbed his hand and shoved it away from her, covering her face with her hands, hiding. "Why didn't you tell me you jerk? Why did you let me sit here and bawl my eyes out? If you would have told me, maybe I wouldn't feel so horrible now and I wouldn't have to deal with all the awful twisting in my stomach." Troy sighed, taking hold of her hands, bringing them closer to him and away from her face. He gently pressed a kiss onto the back of each one, getting her attention.

"I didn't tell you because I didn't know that you liked me like that. And I didn't want to screw 'us' up." Gabriella sighed, pulling one of her hands away to wipe her eyes.

"What does that have to do with anything? I already told you how I felt!" She paused. "I didn't want to screw 'us' up either," she added softly. Troy smiled, moving closer to her and Gabriella released her legs, letting them fall off the edge of the couch.

"Yeah, well you didn't." He leaned towards her again, letting his forehead press against Gabriella's. She bit her lip and looked into his cobalt eyes.

"Can you do that again? Can you kiss me again?" Troy grinned.

"On one condition…" Gabriella raised an eyebrow, inching her lips closer to Troy's. She allowed her lips to brush against his, ever so lightly.

"And what is that condition, Troy?" He exhaled shakily and she felt his warm breath against her cooler skin. She'd dreamed of this moment for a long time although she would never admit it to anyone.

"If you say you'll be my girlfriend, I will kiss you again." Gabriella beamed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I seem to recall you once saying that boyfriend-girlfriend relationships were highly overrated." Troy smiled, nuzzling her skin.

"That was before I realized that I had a shot at a relationship with you." Gabriella blushed and kissed him on the mouth.

"That's really sweet," she murmured, "but what makes me so special?" Troy pulled back slightly.

"You once called me Superman." Gabriella nodded, remembering when she did that. "Well," he said, leaning forward, "if I'm Superman, you're Lois Lane; my one weakness." Gabriella grinned.

"Ooh, I get to be a star reporter," she teased. He grinned back at her, kissing her lips gently.

"Would you rather be kryptonite, my other weakness?" Gabriella pouted.

"Hey, I went from star reporter to fatal green rock." Troy chuckled.

"Then Lois Lane it is." Gabriella grinned.

"Well then, I'd better get started on my first assignment." Troy furrowed his eyebrows.

"And what might that be?" She smirked, pulling him closer.

"Is Troy Bolton a good boyfriend? It's the cover story." Troy grinned. "In case you didn't catch that, that's a yes." Troy made a face and then captured her lips.

"It better get good reviews," he murmured against her lips.

Anyway…that was my latest story, Uncomfortable. Ehh…it was okay. Not my best; at least I don't think so. I hope that wasn't really torturous for you to read.

Please Read and Review.