Disclaimer: I do not own Disney or High School Musical and I am in no way affiliated with it.

It was the boarding school all the wealthy, messed-up kids attended.

But not by will.

By force.

Their desperate parents sent them to Bentley East Academy in high hopes that there child's…er, problems…lessened, tamed, or even, dare I say, healed completely. That, unfortunately but not unsurprisingly, proved itself to be a very rare occurrence. What those oblivious millionaires who called themselves parents didn't know, was that those sneaky, unknowably smart inhabitants of Bentley East Academy knew how to play the game, and they weren't amateurs. Oh no, they were amazingly skilled in their expertise, from a lifetime of practice. They knew what they were doing. They weren't going to let anyone control them.

And.

That.

Was.

Final.

Period.

Bentley East's a tricky one to play, but these sly kids know whom they're dealing with. They're experts. They pry, they prowl, they're perfidious to perfection, and they're the most secretive and furtive kids in town—and it's not like the staff doesn't know. They know from years of miserable experience that these students weren't just like any—this was not what they'd signed up for. Yes. Bentley East Academy was prestige. More courteously, the epitome of status and regard. Just the different kind of prestige they had inferred. Instead of charming, clever and obedient pupils, their elegant classrooms were contaminated with filthy rich, egoistical smart asses and rebellious brats.

These precocious residents of Bentley East Academy were never afraid, and they never ever, under any circumstances, backed out of a challenge. You could go dare Jason Cross to inform Mrs. Mellor she was a fucking whore, and he would obey without a first thought. They knew they wouldn't get in trouble. The teachers themselves were peeing-in-their-pants petrified. Terrified of the students, frightened by their bold, independent attitudes. They all put on these fake costumes, acting like they weren't intimidated by the students, when inside, all the Bentley East kids knew they were quivering cowards. They used this to their advantage, and more than often. Actually, they abused that satisfactory fact.

The only adult any school citizen was even slightly scared of was the headmaster, Mr. Kinsley. He was a towering, stocky man with huge hands the size of pizza pies and a big heavy head in the shape of a rectangular block. He had dull, set eyes and his skin had a disgustingly pale, grayish tint to it. He was widely known as "Frankinsley" among the student body, for he did have a striking resemblance to Frankenstein. In his presence, the students were angels. Though like the rest of the Academy's faculty, he knew very well that the students were lying, deviled feigners. As a result, he was ridiculously strict, always hopelessly trying to get the school and its students in order. He had a never-ending list of rules to follow, and if one were to violate a law, they would be peremptorily punished. New, naïve students to Bentley East figured, "What? What pathetic punishment could it be?" But these were notsilly, juvenile punishments. These were, to some extent, the equivalent of death. Laborious, long and exhausting hours followed and dimmed one's life even if one simple infraction were made. Of course, this is often thought to be an exaggeration. Kinsley instructed harsh bed times, but that didn't stop these menaces from partying all night long and getting so high they couldn't even locate their dormitories.

Like, how coincidentally, they were that November weekend on that unnaturally hot night.

The crowded rooms were clogged with thick smoke, layering the air with a gray fog. Blinding neon lights from the deejay's supply were the only source of illumination, casting a shadow on almost everything in the looming darkness. Teenagers were randomly littered all over the place, doing the usual and expected series of grinding, drinking, fucking, and getting high. Anything was welcomed. Anything went. With the exception of one distinct thing.

"Dude, want some of this…th-this pot?" Jason Cross drawled an offer to one of his best friends and teammate Troy Bolton. They were perched sluggishly on the steps of a hall in the Kimbler dormitories, which were on the very edge of the incalculably gigantic campus. The party was purposely thrown there, as they knew any prefects or teachers were too lazy to journey all the way to the very far end of the school. Plus, it was on the complete opposite end of the campus of where the prefects slept, and so far that they wouldn't be able to hear anyway. "Carter just got it from some guy in New York City and gave it to me."

"No thanks, man. My parents are coming this Visiting Day," Troy sighed in irritation, although still containing the reputational Bentley East coolness tone to his voice. "They'd stick their fingers up their hairy asses if they knew I'd ever."

Jason rolled his eyes. He didn't have a mother; only a father, who was an admiral in the army, seldom visited, and paid little attention to his only child. Jason only had to act like the ideal son one month out of the year, maximum. "Parents. They're shit, huh? Good thing I only have one."

Troy didn't respond, captivated in a deep trance as he spotted his gorgeous girlfriend in the midst. She wobbled over to him, using the walls for support with one hand, the other with a half-empty beer bottle clasped loosely in it. She had her hand clutched to her forehead, her eyes bloodshot and her face worn. The beer bottle dropped from her lazy grasp onto the floor, resulting in a crash of shattering glass, foamy fluid splattering all over the floor. Troy's face fell as she winced in pain at a sudden blast of music from the background, and as she finally neared her boyfriend, she collapsed onto Troy in complete exhaust. Sweat was matted to her face, causing her dark, raven hair to go sticky. She tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving up and down as she curled up to her boyfriend in desperation, not caring that there were so many people watching attentively in anticipation. Troy swiftly turned away from Jason, leaning against the wall and stroking his girlfriend's hair.

"Whoa Brie, way to get wasted," Jason Cross shook his head as if to be disappointed, taking a swig of the wheat-colored beer that was clenched in his hand. Troy wanted so much to smack Jason for that offensive comment, but he resisted.

He.

Was.

Not.

Whipped.

He really wasn't.

Honest.

But Troy knew otherwise deep inside him as his heart broke into smithereens, looking at his pitiful girlfriend who was in such immense distress. She looked so miserable and distraught, and Troy would do anything to make her feel better again. Absolutely anything, no matter how crazy. He yearned to see that bubbly, amusing girl he loved so much. He was craving that signature exuberant smile. Either way, Troy couldn't deny she looked stunningly beautiful, an inch away from wasted or not.

"I feel sick, Troy," she groaned, digging her head into his chest and shutting her eyes. Gabriella's head throbbed from the alcohol, the effects always having torpedoed to her crazy fast. She didn't understand it. When she drank, it felt good. And then just an hour or two later, she was out of the game.

"I know," Troy whispered to her gently, rubbing her back and letting her small figure hide from the spontaneous party scene. She practically melted into his open, shielding embrace. "I know, baby, I know." He was not whipped. He did not care. And he was certainly not going to ask if she wanted to leave. But he couldn't stop himself. And before he could do anything against, he had blurted softly, "Want to leave?" Gabriella's fuzzy reply was a vague nod, followed by a lot more groaning and complaining. Troy sighed, pressing his girlfriend's tiny form to his and standing up, his hand on the back of her head protectively.

"Shit dude, you're leaving because Brie got fucking wasted?!" Jason chuckled brusquely, his eyes wide as if he couldn't believe it. He thought this was a riot, and he almost started going hysterical with laughter. Troy felt that undeniable urge to punch him again, but somehow pushed it aside. "Troy, you are whipped. And badly." Troy pursed his lips, only ignoring Jason the best he could and making his way through the dense mass of people, trying to find the door out in the haunting darkness of the place. He could feel certain wetness on his shirt, and through the faint whimpers, he knew it was Gabriella crying. His heart broke again at the sound of her sobbing so helplessly, so quietly because no one could know.

Showing weakness was pusillanimous. Showing weakness, any sign at all, was a symbol that you were easy to tear down. And at Bentley East Academy,

That.

Was.

Not.

Acceptable.

You were supposed to swallow whole your thoughts, your ideas, your fears and concerns. You were supposed to keep everything to yourself, bottled up securely inside of you. You were not supposed to express yourself.

Except there were two people that ruptured those unspoken but firm principles, and no one knew. No one could, either. Because that's just the way it was, and it had to be followed.

It was that thing that everyone thought they knew, but didn't. It was that mystery, that everyone was waiting to solve, waiting in suspense for another chapter, or perhaps, the ending. They were on display, putting on a little show for everyone every day. A little smile here, a stupid joke there; a helpful comment here, a quick kiss there. They were exhibits. They had no idea what they were doing. They weren't progressing. They didn't care about each other. That was Troy and Gabriella in the views of the rest of Bentley East Academy. They were the It Couple, to their dismay, and they knew it very well. Everyone thought the opposite of what they were. Even most of their closest friends. Only a few of them suspected that there was something more to them, and they teased them infinitely, until the day they would die.

Alone and together, they were different, changed people; for the better.

"Troy…" Gabriella moaned in pain, writhing around a little in his safe grasp.

"Shh, baby, we're just about there," Troy whispered softly, picking up his pace as he walked. He seizedher tighter against him anxiously, protecting her. Thank God his dormitory was near. As he approached the large, new building, he felt Gabriella begin to shake uncontrollably. He peered down at her, his heart wrenching at the sight of her, bawling into his chest as quietly as she could. Troy sighed, pushing open the door of the Maxence dormitories heedlessly and hastily running to his room, fumbling with his keys and finally kicking the door open. He shut the door just as quickly, setting a shrunken Gabriella onto his bed. He took a few fast steps and threw his keys onto his counter, then crawling onto the bed carefully and gently straddling Gabriella, looking deep into her mocha, tantalizing eyes. "Baby, are you okay?" he whispered in extreme worry, clearing some sweaty hair that was pasted to her face. Gabriella shook her head, biting her lip as she tried not to cry.

"Troy…" she whimpered in a small voice, "I just need you."

"Come here, baby," Troy whispered softly, pulling her to him and lying down on the bed. "I'm all yours." She buried her face in his chest again, breathing heavily. Troy's stomach dropped in pain, for it only pinchedat his heart harder every time he saw her under so much distress like this.

"Sharpay…that f-fucking bitch…she was…she insulted m-my…" Gabriella choked between tears, but then broke down completely, unable to continue. Troy just held her close, his hand cradling the base of her head, pressing a caring kiss to her temple. Troy didn't need her to finish. He already knew.

Troy and Gabriella told each other everything.

Because they were each other's everything.

They had nothing else.

Everything was everything, including telling the other person anything on their mind.

"Sharpay is a fucking whore, and we both know that," Troy whispered in her ear. "And if it's never going to change, then why pay attention to her? You've just got to ignore her, let her fuck herself for all you care." Gabriella nodded somewhat, wrapping a slender leg around her boyfriend's, her threateningly high miniskirt riding up and revealing her pink thong to Troy. "I know I am being a complete hypocrite, but you can't go and get wasted out of your mind, okay? I care about you too much not to stop you." His heart was beating strangely fast as he spoke.

"Sure," Gabriella mumbled, her voice slurred. "That's how much you care about me. You tell me not to get drunk and then you do."

Troy was desperate. He wanted Gabriella to believe him. No, he needed her to believe him. She was all he had. She was all he needed. He lived for her. He woke up every fucking day, with or without her lying next to him, only dragging himself out of bed to spend time with her. "I swear so much that I'll stop drinking and getting high. That's how much I care about you. I'll do anything you ask me to."

Gabriella's heart jolted suddenly, energized by swellsof possible promise. "You swear it?" Gabriella hated when Troy was high on ridiculous drugs. She'd only tried a few once, and never went back, only admitting to Troy that she had been incurably fearful for the first time in her life. But, what she hated the most was when Troy smoked cigarettes. He didn't smoke often, but she still absolutely detested it when he did. The awful stench made her nauseous, and he just appeared so dingy afterwards. It was almost like a strong pet peeve. "You will stop drinking and doing drugs for me?" Gabriella's tone was hopeful. She wanted this. She wanted this so much for him. He was such a smart guy, and she knew that this was the liberty and sanity he needed to get into a good college.

"Of course I would, baby," he whispered, kissing her gauntly limp fingers. Gabriella could sensor that genuine nature of honesty and trustworthiness in his desperate voice. "I told you. I'll do anything for you."

"Let's try," Gabriella whispered optimistically. "Let's do it together. No more drinking or drugs. And that includes cigarettes." Troy nodded, letting Gabriella dig her face into the warm crook of his neck.

"I promise."

"Do you fuck on it?" Gabriella joked teasingly, mocking what Chad had asked Taylor one time.

"I swear. I fuck on it," Troy whispered, slithering his hand under her tank top and rubbing her back thoroughly.

"Seal it with a kiss?" Gabriella giggled gleefully, her wonderful mocha eyes creasing and her contagious grin catching onto Troy. He loved to see this side of her. It was something no one else got to see; something no one else even knew existed. Troy figured she used to be this way before her father went all psycho. Either way, he thought she was absolutely amazing.

"Sure," Troy smiled, inclining and letting his rosy lips touch his girlfriend's perfect velvety ones that made him melt so easily. The kiss was soft—the kind of sensual kiss they prized and shared habitually when they were secluded from the rest of the world. It was gentle and kind, not impatient nor rough.

And this time, Troy felt it again, awakening everything in his body and sending him on fire—he felt…love. Troy tried to shake the consuming thoughts out of his head as they continued the light kiss, deepening it but keeping it tender. His lips were blazing—in a way that made his heart warm up like hot chocolate on a biting, wintry night. As her fingernails trailed up and down his spine, he felt a burning sensation. A good one that he never wanted to go away. Was that love? Or lust? Surely if a man were in love, they would contract the overactive butterflies that were partying in Troy's stomach right then. He wasn't sure, scolding himself that he needed to stop worrying over that and focus on Gabriella, who definitely deserved his undivided concentration.

He observed in awe, as her small delicate fingers knew exactly to do, as she tugged at his bottom lip playfully, as she tangled her hands in his hair without a hurry, massaging the back of his neck. Troy carefully slipped his tongue between his girlfriend's lips, and she smiled into the gentle kiss, one hand creeping up his shirt and outlining his six pack. Troy pulled away to catch his escaping breath, his chest heaving uncontrollably. He rested his forehead gently on hers, staring hard into her spinning brown eyes, which were flaming out of control with an emotion he had seen countless times before but still ceased to decipher.

Was that love again?

Or maybe the real question was,

Would he ever know?

Gabriella could tell very well that he was thinking intensely, and smiled even wider at him. "I feel a lot better now." Electricity sparked through Troy's body as he grinned radiantly her, breathing heavier than before, and pecking another kiss on her swollen lips. Gabriella responded eagerly, though not roughly or in any rush, her lips mashing pleasantly against his in steady measure. The only thing heard in the room were their lips smacking together, and the patterned, loud moans produced by Gabriella.

Troy didn't even need to ask, already knowing she was staying the night. Troy had fortunately locked the door, and if Chad Danforth, his roommate, saw the door was locked and heard noises, he'd just spend the night fucking his own girlfriend Taylor, of whom was Gabriella's roommate. It was a routine they had fallen into, and were now so used to it, that neither of them were surprised the couple times a week they approached their door to hear moaning. It was almost considered normal.

Gabriella shamelessly climbed on top of the tan basketball captain, grinding her pelvis against his, causing Troy to moan out so sexily, and she settled in to a straddling position on top of him, rolling her hips forward. This only resulted in the two constantly moaning in pleasure, their sighs mixing together in the air and sounding like heaven to one another's ears. Gabriella latched her hands onto Troy's shoulders, repeating her actions as Troy snuck his hands under her tight miniskirt, massaging her wetness gently and treasuring the way her eyes flickered in irrepressible delight.

Gabriella bit her lip, leaning down once more and reattaching their lips in more unbelievable kisses, her mind in a hazy trance. Her heart fluttered as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer to him and raising her ass so he could pull of her skirt. She smiled, helping him with the difficult zipper and chucking the bottom onto the floor with her ankle. Her thin fingers danced along the beginning of his pants, finally venturing in the other direction and yanking off his shirt. It quickly joined the denim miniskirt, now forgotten. Troy beamed up at her, unable to comprehend how he was so lucky, and how she was all his. He nuzzled his face into her luscious dark locks, the fruitful smell of her shampoo intoxicating his senses. Dropping kisses on her neck, he dipped a finger between her soaked folds, his member only growing harder as her breathing quickened and became raspy. She squirmed in his arms as he began pumping in and out of her, adding a second, then third finger to join the other. Ecstasy seemed so near for Gabriella; so in her grasp, but she abstained, instead reaching down for Troy's now-wet hand and resting hers upon it.

"Troy," she whispered, sweat trickling down her forehead. Her chest heaved up and down as she fought for air desperately. "Troy, I don't want to cum…I want to wait for you…" Her voice was affectionate and soft, dripping with what Troy would later describe as love. Troy would never know, but Gabriella glimpsed something different glimmering in his eyes. In the faint moonlight, she could see what she straightforwardly labeled as love. Love, true love, was whirling in his hypnotic sapphire eyes as he stared at her, in a mixture of awe, admiration, and adoration, but mostly love.

At the realization, Gabriella's hand shook, her fingers gravitating towards his face and gently brushing away strands of brown hair that were falling over his eyes. Troy smiled softly, chuckling internally at her expressive dark accented eyes, which were encircled in black rings from her crying before. Even though she resembled a raccoon, Troy still thought she was the most beautiful girl on the earth. The glow of the enchanting, silver moon cascading through the open windows shone on her, showcasing Gabriella as if she were a goddess. Troy's mouth dropped open at this. He reached his hand down, tracing her kneecap and then raking up to her muscled inner thighs, which he kneaded gently, growing harder with every moan she made. Gabriella merely stared in revering fascination.

He looked so incredibly amazing, so remarkably beautiful, so ingeniously perfect—there weren't even any words to describe his transfixing, compelling appearance. His moist, dark hair was tousled and sweat was beaded all over his skin, the liquid sliding down the smooth surface with every passing moment. His mesmerizing eyes blazed incandescently in the darkness, and every time he smiled, Gabriella could feel her heart pulverizing from the staggering power.

She couldn't believe she had found him. He was her savior. And in the same way, she was his.

"Come here, baby," Troy whispered softly, carefully pulling Gabriella down to his chest. His arms enveloped around her and delicately cradled her, as if she were an antique, fragile doll. Gabriella's breath caught in her throat as he slowly leaned in, his lips gently caressing hers in the most intimate of kisses. Her arms instinctively snaked around his neck, pulling him closer and savoring the heated moment. Intensity erupted between them, fogging the dense, steamy air. Gabriella gripped the hem of Troy's shorts, not even bothering to unzip them as she forced them off his waist, dismissing the fact that they remained around his knees. She slid her hand under his boxers, pulling out his hard flesh and wrapping her hand around its fullness. She smirked at him as Troy felt the air sucked out of his lungs, and she began to stroke him, her gaze never wandering from the luminous cobalt orbs, which she could see perfectly even in the shadowed room. Troy's breathing grew faster and raspier, and he knew well that he was nearing his orgasm.

Just as he was going to tip over the edge, he refrained, enclosing Gabriella's wrist with his warm fingers and jerking up to a sitting position, catching her off-guard and capturing her lips in another dazing kiss. The agonizingly humid, summer atmosphere grew undeniably thicker within a second as their tongues battled playfully. Gabriella unconfined his member, too engrossed in the dazzling kiss to do anything else. Troy pushed his girlfriend's panty-clad ass onto his lap, her legs sprawling to either side of his in a sort of lazy straddle. Troy ventured each counter of her mouth, which was so familiar, yet he knew he would never grow tired of it. Gabriella pulled away to breathe, resting her tired head on his firm shoulder and weaving her arms around his waist. The erotic sounds of their desperate, heavy breathing echoed through the suite bedroom, only making the pair even more aroused. Troy had one hand squeezing her waist, and the other up her shirt and rubbing her back gently. This only stirred her burgeoning desire more, her body growing hungrier and more impatient for release with every lungful she inhaled.

"I want you," she panted against his built chest, her hot breath tickling his skin and making him shiver. "I want you so badly."

Just holding her so breathtakingly close; the glorious aroma of her perfume streaming up his nose; his hand cradling the base of her head; her boiling, smooth skin rubbing against his was too much for his senses' capacity; and all at once, everything seemed to overload, unable to take it any longer. He whipped off his pants and plaid boxers, not wasting anytime and quickly lifting Gabriella up under her arms like a baby, supporting her above his stiff erection. He gave her a knowing smile before carefully lowering her on his shaft, and they both immediately moaned at the astounding, warm contact. Unable to tear away his gaze, Troy stared fixedly, drowning in his girlfriend's magnificent brown eyes, so spectacular that it seemed surreal and ungodly for a woman to have such bright, jubilant eyes. Gabriella didn't smirk as she caught him drooling at her, only wrapping her legs around him and winding her arms around his neck tight. Her hips began rolling forward again, keeping a steady rhythm as she desperately strived to give the satisfaction her love deserved. Troy moved with her, only pausing to rip off her skimpy tank top, his hands then floating to her bra strap, which he easily unfasten and flung behind carelessly. Troy cupped his girlfriend's full breasts in his hands, fondling them as Gabriella continued to move on top of him. Gabriella moaned, so exotically, her long, dark hair flying with every movement she made. Her eyes darkened in determination and lust as she lurched forward, picking up her pace. Troy bit his lip in desire, watching in wonder as Gabriella's vibrant eyes flickered unmanageably with utter delight. How could any creature be so beautiful?

"Troy…" she moaned, in such a stimulating, sexy way that Troy gave into his first craving and landed his lips on hers in a fiery kiss, devouring her mouth once more. He held the edges of her face, his thumbs rubbing her baby-soft skin in gentle circles. Gabriella's hips began gyrating slower, and she pulled away from the powerful kiss, her perspired forehead resting on his hot one to catch her heavy, straying breath. "Troy…" she murmured between pants against his lips, and she forced her tired hips to continue rotating, though her attempts were futile. Troy instead kissed her passionately again, flipping their bodies over in one rapid sweep, so now Gabriella's sizzling, sweaty back grazed the bed's sheets and Troy was straddling her. He immediately started pumping into her, keeping up the momentum Gabriella had started for him. He could feel the pleasure building up; so close, so reachable. Each time Troy drove into her, so strong and so shockingly deep, Gabriella could feel her breath be taken away. Her bare chest heaved up and down, her hair sticky and raked down to her forehead, looking as if it had been painted on there. Troy leaned down to his exhausted girlfriend, gazing at her as she strained to keep consciousness and sense. He took her hardened nipples between his fingers, rubbing them with his thumbs. Reaching his other hand between their joined bodies, he began playing with her clit, only forcing Gabriella against her perimeter more.

Troy kept his smirk to himself, loving how she was right before she orgasmed. She just had this appearance—this look in her eye, this expression covering her whole face. And that expression, the whole act, just made her amaze him so remarkably much more. Each time; each time she passed through that stage, he could feel his passion, his respect for her growing tremendously. He continued to penetrate her, huffing and grunting with each hard dive, though very careful not to hurt her in any way. She wriggled beneath him, unable to interpret where these actions were coming from. Either way, they were taking over her body and not giving back her control anytime soon.

"You okay?" he whispered worriedly to her as her eyes delicately fluttered shut, her breathing becoming more erratic. Troy did not remember a time when she was so tired. She was never tired during sex. Gabriella personally blamed the combination of the unhealthy overdose of alcohol and the worries flocking her brain. She had the most annoying headache, but the last the she wanted was to ruin the fun for Troy. Gabriella could feel all the emotions brewing inside her body, causing a horrific storm rising in her mind, racking her entire tiny form.

She wanted to tell him.

She wanted so much to tell him.

She bit her bottom lip to suppress her budding outburst, her head lolling from one side to the other on the pillow. The pressure rocketed through her, pressing down on her like a weight. She wanted to tell him so much, more than anything. She knew he felt it too, but she also knew he didn't know that was what he was feeling. Gabriella could read Troy like a book. She knew he wasn't ready. But, that didn't mean she wasn't either.

She felt the emotions coursing through her veins, pulsing within her in time to her boyfriend's profound thrusts. Hair-raising tingles jazzed her body, bursting from her core and spreading like wildfire throughout her small shape. Gabriella weakly encircled Troy's wrist with her hand, bracing herself for her climax. A strangled but surprisingly sexy moan slipped from her mouth, and from the emotions playing across her face, Troy didn't need to ask to know she was close.

"Go ahead," he whispered lovingly in her ear, softly brushing away the drenched hair that had adhered to her face. His caring voice was indescribably enthralling music to Gabriella, permeable to her skin and directly touching her heart. She drunk him in; the way he panted anxiously above her, the dizzying scent of his strong cologne invigorating her nostrils. Gabriella finally opened her heavy, weary eyes right before she encountered her peak, her eyes only rolling back in her skull uncontrollably as she exploded into pure ecstasy. Her thighs tightened until they were stone, and her feminine walls inside her clenched around Troy's hard flesh, only making her thighs contract harder. Just seeing the arousing sight sent Troy on his own way to pleasure, his seed quickly spurting inside of his girlfriend. He collapsed on all fours, hovering above her, his arms outstretched on top and beside her tired head, tenting Gabriella under him. She was still recovering from the blow, gasping so hard for air that Troy could easily count and outline each of her bony ribs. This concerned him even more.

"Are you okay?" he whispered again soothingly, unmistakable concern laced in his hopeful voice. All of his concerns in life where now easily nixed and focused on one thing, and that was Gabriella. It was amazing how many things she could be. How many things she could mean to him. He had never felt this way before. The way his heart surged and pounded wildly every time he looked at her was unfamiliar. Yet at the same time, it was familiar. Like he'd known her before. Somewhere, sometime; perhaps even another life. Troy wasn't sure, though he persisted to be mesmerized by her simplicity and yet her intricacy as well.

She was everything.

She was everything life held in one package.

Troy peered down at her, his breath arresting as he admired her exhilarating beauty. Her eyes were resting, distantly dazing off and staring at the wall in a daydream. She smiled knowingly as she caught Troy dreamily gazing down at her, and she shifted her attention to him, grinning and wrapping her tired, feeble arms around his neck, weakly pulling him down to her level. Troy smiled in response, saving her the strength and engulfing his strong arms around her, rolling onto his back. He laid Gabriella softly in his arms, her head lying indolently on his naked chest. She looped one leg around one his, her sore, stiff thighs aching unbearably from their previous activities. Troy hugged her close, stroking her sticky hair softly. Her eyes gently flurried close as he brushed his lips against her forehead lightly, resting them against her warm skin. He could feel her rapid, unstable pulse prodding at his skin; the fact that the intervals were abnormally irregular and uneven frightened him, but at the same time, the beat was so alive.

"Troy…" she moaned softly, feeling a refreshing sensation where his lips were in contact with her forehead.

"Yeah, baby?" he whispered, pressing his face against hers so their noses rubbed.

"We should have mind-blowing sex like that more often," Gabriella smiled cheekily, a smirk dancing across her lips. "But be careful, because I almost died from lack of oxygen."

"Oh, really? I'm so great that I take your breath away, just like that?" Troy played, his hand reaching down and stroking her inner thigh. Gabriella squirmed under his ticklish touch, managing a nod in reply. Troy grinned, pulling a thin bed sheet over their sweaty, worn bodies. He carefully pulled his softened manhood of her, pleased at how they didn't have to use a condom all the time anymore, now that Gabriella was on birth control.

For both of them, this was unquestionably one of the best parts of these nights. They would cuddle together, drained and naked, just listening to their ragged breathing, but mostly, talking. Talking about everything. Everything and anything on their minds. It just felt so much easier at that late time at night, in that dark, shadowy dormitory. Their souls felt freer. The atmosphere felt thinner. It just felt amazing to know they could say anything to one another and not be judged.

Gabriella felt that escalating urge to tell him again, but once more, she refrained, although it was very difficult. She felt terrible and guilty, almost as if she were hiding something. Now would be a perfect time if she knew she he was ready to confess, like she was. But now was a horrible time if only one was ready, and the other hopelessly lost in their insecurities and obliviousness.

"My mother's coming for Visiting Day."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. She's finally taking one of her vacation days and "wasting" it on me."

"Don't waste your own time on her, Gabi, if she thinks she's wasting time on you. You shouldn't be treated that way. You're worth so much more than what she makes of you, Gabi."

"Thanks, but I know, babe. I know. We've been over this. But still. I mean, she's my mother. What am I supposed to do?" Sigh. "I can't just block her out of my life. I've only got one at least half-sane parent left, and I'm just making do. I know she's not the best, but there's worse, so I consider myself lucky."

"That's the way to go, babe. Think positive."

"Are your parents bringing Brad when they come?"

"No, they're leaving him with Mrs. Peters from next door. Feel kind of bad for my little bro, but he's so annoying when he hangs around here. He embarrasses me so much."

"Aww, c'mon, he's adorable! He's got those pudgy little cheeks and those bright innocent blue eyes and that baby smile—"

"Gabs, he's twelve, not five."

"But still! He's like a mini you."

"A mini me? Oh, come on."

"Are they taking you home for Thanksgiving?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to beg them not to." Gabriella always stayed for Thanksgiving. "I still want to do our tradition. Anyway, remind me to keep my parents away from your mom tomorrow."

"Oh, right. I forgot it would be the first time they'd be at the same Visiting Day together…"

"Do you want me to meet your mom? Or no? Cause I totally understand either way."

Gabriella grimaced. "Trust me. You don't want to meet her. I suggest you don't; remember how I told you she's got this strict policy about me not having any boyfriends? Or even friends that are boys? She thinks I'm still six."

"Oh, yeah. Ouch."

"I know. My dad was the same. Before, you know, he—"

"—Right. I see."

Their easy conversation went on like that for hours, flowing out of their mouths so effortlessly. Gabriella wrestled her exhaustion like war, but it finally overtook her; afterwards, she couldn't remember falling asleep, but Troy had stayed awake, talking to himself thinking Gabriella was listening, when really, she had slipped into a peaceful slumber half an hour before. Troy smiled to himself, pulling the comforter over her now shivering body, dried with sweat. He curled up with her, contented over his brim. He watched her as she breathed, so relaxed, her chest rising and falling in regular intervals.

That was when it really hit him.

As much as he had been telling himself no. As much as he hadn't wanted it to be true. As much as he was teased for it. As much as God seemed to hate him, He had given him a gift.

Gabriella.

And as much as it had bothered him to think it, he loved her, and he had always known it, somewhere deep obscured inside of him. He had just simply not known what he was feeling was love. He hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. He was scared. Love was huge. Love was supposed to be the greatest power of all. And as he gazed at her dreamily, her small doll-like form so beautiful and fragile, he really knew it, and wasn't disappointed one bit.

He.

Was.

Deeply.

In.

Love.

With.

Her.

And there was no escaping it.

Now he just had to tell her.