Summary: A compilation of romantic one-shots featuring Troy and Gabriella

I love writing one-shots, perhaps maybe more than full-featured stories and since I love Troyella, I thought it would be perfect to write a collection of one-shots featuring my favorite couple. I do not know how many chapters I'll write, so you'll just have to go with the flow with me here.

The first one-shot: Poetry

Forever's not Enough

Gabriella's face beamed as her best friend had winked at her, sitting down at the desk behind her. She turned, giving a beautiful, 100 hundred watts smile at him until Mrs. Darbus had walked into the room, and she turned, back to her original position, while twirling a strand of curly brown hair with her finger. A constant habit of hers, he noticed.

"Good morning class." Mrs. Darbus had on a lime green skirt with a hot pink, ruffly top and stiletto heels. Her face had pounds of make-up on, and her shawl contrasted heavily with her purple eye-shadow.

Troy's eyes were almost burning from the bright illumination that originated from her outfit.

"Welcome back, and I hope that on this dreary Monday morning, your bright minds will be refreshed and excited at the prospect of learning and fulfilling your capabilities in education, your love for knowledge and prosperity in the arts will never unwaver, you dreams and goals will," She walked around the room, putting her arms up as if she was an Olympic champion, speaking as if she was auditioning in a Shakespeare monologue.

Troy was almost falling asleep due to Mrs. Darbus's speech…and his all-nighter he pulled yesterday from his procrastinating on the history project when her loud, exuberant voice stopped him.

"MR. BOLTON!"

The whole class practically jumped out of their seats from her yelling when she averted her eyes toward him. She walked towards him, her eyes never leaving his.

"Since you seem to be very interested in my class, maybe you can be the very first to present your project tomorrow in class?"

"What project?"

"Ah, yes. Another sign of your paying attention. I was just explaining that since we are in the unit of poetry, my project is for you to write a poem. Nothing really specific, just a recording of you and something meaningful in your life. However, I want you to focus all of your creative energy onto it because it will be 50 percent of your final grade for the semester. Remember, no complete sentences, neat handwriting, in pencil, on notebook paper. Not crumbled and certainly not in the format of your last project that you had turned into me."

She turned, her shawl almost hitting his face.

"You will present first, Mr. Bolton. And keep in mind, your presentation will also be graded heavily. And nothing on hockey, or whatever sport you participate in. I actually want something meaningful in your project."

Troy quickly grabbed his stuff, leaving the room in a hurry. This early, stress was piling up on his shoulders. The basketball game was tomorrow, his project would most likely garner bad attention, plus, he had to write some stupid poem about something meaningful. As if Darbus would take anything that didn't include Sharpay Evans and her clone brother Ryan Evans or anything that had to due with her theater. Anything outside of that area made Darbus look like a dud.

"Troy!" Gabriella made him turn around and all of his thoughts had suddenly vanished. With a simple light blue shirt, a butterfly hairclip, jeans, and black ballet flats on, her pretty but simple clothing had always managed to captivate Troy Bolton's affections plus her constant smile.

"Are you all right? You look exhausted."

"All-nighter."

"That sucks, plus Darbus was pretty tough on you in there."

"Nah, she just needs someone to pick on while she is in the midst of a mid-life crisis or something."

Gabriella giggled, and put a hand on his arm affectionately.

"If you ever need help with a project, I'm here for you. To be honest, I don't even know what to write about for my poetry project. A poem about math and science would be pretty conventional and unsophisticated and eloquent, but I need to see if I can write about something really meaningful. You know?"

"Yeah," Troy whispered, not really paying attention. He was too focused on her mouth moving instead of the words coming out.

"Troy. TROY!" She snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, concerned.

Troy shook, his eyes blinking several times. "Sorry, I have so much pressure on me from basketball, school."

"I understand. Me too, it's hard to find that equal balance."

"Plus, if I don't get an A on this project, I'm toast, Gabriella. My mom will kill me. I can't write poetry, I can barely construct full sentences while writing an essay."

"Poetry doesn't need sentences. Poetry is just like a song, it tells a story without a conventional explanation to it. You have broken versus in stanzas and sometimes, poems don't even make the best sense. It's interpretation. It's easier than writing a story, because stories are longer plus include a beginning, middle, and an end."

"Gabriella!" Taylor McKessie stormed up to the pair in her usual headband, black skirt, and polo. "Come on, chemistry is next and we have that lab."

"Oh yeah!" Gabriella turned to Troy, patted his arm, and grinned at him, melting Troy's heart once more. "I'll see you soon, Troy."

He sat at home, in the middle of the night, trying to find some kind of meaning in something. No basketball, just something that would inspire him.

He glanced at his bedside table, finding the beautiful girl in the chestnut frame, with her lovely smile and delicate face. It had been a picture from when they had gone together at the bonfire in the summer, as friends.

Every night, he would stare at that picture, looking at her, for what seemed like forever and it never seemed enough.

To say that he hated going to school was an understatement, but to say that seeing her made it all better somehow. Everything did, being with her made him feel like his soul was worth living, and his life wasn't so bad.

He also loved her because of her quirks, the ones that no one would notice except him. The way she talked, her habits, her favorite things, the ones that a person wouldn't bother to notice, but he would just to somehow get to know her better, and just because whatever she did, made him love her a little bit more every day.

And somehow from this realization, his eyes went wide and he started to write.

"Hey." He greeted Gabriella the next morning and noticed her next outfit. She had on a pretty light blue sundress on and her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. "How's your poem?" She asked him.

Troy looked down, embarrassed. "It's okay." He shyly pulled his face back up, ignoring her questionable eyes.

"Class." Mrs. Darbus clapped her hands together to gain back their attention. "I believe we have projects to present, particularly Mr. Bolton's. Please stand up, Troy, and I warn you, if your project has anything to due with athletics, I will mark that paper and tear it apart before anyone else's."

Gabriella glanced back sympathetically and Troy stood up, gulping. Chad and Taylor and the rest of their big class stared at him, interestingly enough and he put a hand through his hair, pulling out the crumbled paper in his hands, earning an eye roll from Mrs. Darbus.

You have a way with me

I wish I could say more

Your way with me makes me sing, wants me to dance out to the world

It's the way you sing

The way you make me go crazy

How your voice is like an angel's

So soft and still with grace

The way your eyes sparkle

Whenever you get something right

It seems your brilliance never falters

I never was observant before

Until your voice met mine

And then I noticed your every quirk

The way you walk

The way you talk

It's the way you make me go nuts

When you're never with me

When you smile, when you laugh

How it all makes me go crazy

It's you and me forever

That's how it is all meant to be

I wish that I could see inside

How you want it all to be

But now I still wait for you

Near the stars and in my dreams

It's your every little thing

That makes everything all better

Forgets all my problems

And takes me elsewhere, somewhere

I wish I could say more

To detail it in better

But to shorten it

I'll just say it's everything

That makes me love you more

That makes my heart seem to soar

It's everything, it's you and me

Every little thing of yours, that makes me love you more

Troy ignored others' shocked expressions and Gabriella's wide eyes and sat back down, his face was beat red and Chad was trying desperately to capture his attention.

"Mr. Bolton, may I say that was a very sophisticated poem. Well done. Not what I had expected."

Troy smiled, and thanked her, and then stared at the back of Gabriella's hair.

It was all you.

"Whose next?"

"May I go, Mrs. Darbus?"

Gabriella raised her hand and retrieved a piece of clean paper with organized handwriting.

Gabriella turned knowingly to Troy and grinned.

"A Boy I Know"

There's a boy I know

In a red and white jersey

A boy whose face beams whenever he shoots a basket

He's a superstar, on and off court

Walking the halls at school

Like he's a special gift to girls, and the people who attend our school

He acts as if he's cool, smooth, and talkative

But truthfully the boy I know is quiet, sweet, and polite

He always "please and thank you"

And if you fall, he'll pick up your stuff and help you right back up

The boy I know has a special place in my heart

For he is cool and smooth

With me, he is and if he loses

He still is a true champion

He is cool but not in the way people think

He has a way with words

But his way with words is not shallow, for his way involves true thoughts

He looks at life in the best of ways

With positivity and enjoyment

He tries his best at everything

Even if it sucks

The boy I know is one I love

Not just in friendship or platonically

I love him, truly

The day I met him

No way else, nothing regretted

I've always loved him, no matter what

I've loved his ways and quirks

The way he sees me is through friendship and I'm convinced that's how it works

But the boy I know is the boy I love and I want to be his girl

I want to be the girl he holds

The one whose heart he shares

And even if I'll share it in paper

It'll all still work out

Because he'll always be the boy I'll know

But still in an uncomplex way, the boy I'll somehow, always love

Gabriella, had too, sat down, and avoided Troy's gaze at her. And as, someone else was presenting their poem, a note had been passed back to her.

I love you, too.

Troy