Finals are over, school's out and the entire East High gang could be found in the Montez's basement for a night of fun and letting loose. Popcorn, red cups and candy litter the table, and the scent of alcohol hangs distinctly in the air. The entire crew crowds around the television, grinning and smiling over nothing and everything.

She's giggling at something Taylor had said and he stares longingly at her, beneath those dark, long eyelashes of his. She feels his gaze on her and turns to look at him, eyes bright and playful. He smirks and then turns his attention back to the television screen where Chad and Zeke play an intense game of Wii bowling.

Her chestnut eyes roam over his familiar gorgeous features- the ones that make her heart leap and flutter madly and the very same ones that have landed her multiple detentions for getting her "distracted" -she decidedly cannot help these feelings, and god, did she try to shake them, but they've been there, steadily growing day by day; ever since that fateful New Year's Eve - oh, was it the start of something new.

And so the brunette sighs and stares down at her hands at the memory.

He laughs uproariously at Zeke's crazy swing between his legs, and she sneaks a glance at him. He catches her wondering eyes- he always does- and winks. She bites her cheek, trying to suppress a smile, and settles for staring at the ceiling, instead.

They've been playing this game ever since that stupid "triple-victory day". Hands intertwined, fleeting hugs and flirty teasing pass through them. Sparks and astonishment and affection leave her wanting more. She thinks he wants it too, but for once in her life, she's not entirely sure.

Confusion, confusion, confusion. He's still such a flirt with the rest of the East High female population. He still gives hugs-- hugs that belong to her --to that other cheerleader or that girl on the student council. Sometimes, she sees him playfully nudge the girl on the volleyball team and still does this 'secret handshake' with the dancer girl.

She knows she shouldn't be jealous of them, but she is. She knows she shouldn't feel that way because he is hers, always has been and always will be. But it still didn't stop that annoying, nagging feeling she felt, as if something was missing from their relationship.

She looks at him one last time and wonders how he would react if she just grabbed his shirt collar and pressed her lips fervently against his – come on, this was the boy who gave her the guts to sing in front of the world and then try out for the spring musical; this was the boy who saw her for the person she truly was; the boy with the dizzy blue eyes and who despised spiders and could not stand still for even a second -- this was the boy who stole her heart and never gave it back.

She shakes those thoughts out of the way, letting those fantasies to be just that -- fantasies. She cannot risk their friendship, she tells herself, she cannot risk their friendship. Cliché, she knows, but she needs him in her life. Always, and always. And even though she really did feel that he liked her, maybe even love her, in that way, she would wait until he figured it out himself.

She can't wait around forever, though. And that's what kills her the most.

Then she feels someone- a very heavy someone, at that -sprawled across her lap. Troy's familiar shaggy hair obscures her vision and she immediately wraps her arms around his stomach.

He presses himself closer to her, and while she relishes this physical intimacy, his weight is unbearable for her tiny frame. "I can't feel my legs, Troy," she says muffled, for her head is buried in his back. He groans and opts for a position seated right next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as she comfortably positions herself in the crook of his arm.

She cuddles closer and he takes in her intoxicating perfume and he silently berates himself for being so fucking affected by her presence. He can almost hear Chad's smirk and see him mouthing the word "whipped."

They stay like that for a moment; no words are spoken but it's not awkward at all; and it's so predictable and corny, but they fit together perfectly and it feels so right and this tingly feeling right now: this is what love is, and they both know it but are too damn headstrong to admit it.

Troy then realizes it's his turn in bowling, probably by the way the rest of the gang turns to look at him, all sharing an amused glance because they realize what/who exactly has taken his time. He snags the controller from the coffee table, and awkwardly attempts to play while still sitting down on the couch. Gabriella realizes his predicament and laughs, her warm breath tickling his neck. "Just get up, you lazy bum," she chides.

"I'm fine, Gabriella," he answers and brings her closer to him. He uses his left arm to swing the controller and of course he doesn't hit any of the pins, so the rest of the boys laugh and point and jeer at their basketball captain, "Your head is not the game, man!"

But he merely rolls his cobalt eyes because he's in bliss because he's with her.

Fin.