Chapter Six – Forgive and Forget

If it had been left up to Troy, Chad would have died there and then. Thankfully, it wasn't up to Troy and it was up to the police instead. Due to the fact that Chad was underage and that he had been 'Under-the-Influence' as the police so tactfully put it (Troy would have settled for 'pissed') he was given 36 hours of community service. Troy was given 35, for supposed 'involvement'.

"It could have been worse..." Chad said, cheerfully stripping a park bench of chewing gum with a poncey little metal thing neither of them knew the actual purpose of. "I mean..." He fingered his orange overalls thoughtfully. "...no one died did they?"

"You seem to be missing the fundamental point here, Chad..." Troy replied, picking up a discarded cheesy nibblers with a gloved hand. "If you hadn't planted the bomb in the first place, we wouldn't be here. We'd be practising our basketball moves and gelling our hair in the toilets at school so ore Dads don't find out."

Chad sniffed. "I miss the gel..." He said.

"Oh yeah?" Troy said. "Well not only do I miss the gel, I now have a load of terrorists on my tail asking me to work for them. How do you think I feel, buddy?"

"Oh yeah." Troy had filled Chad in on the consequences of his bomb attack after the party, when they'd been locked up in a police cell for the night.

"RATS!" The yell came from across the other side of the park. Troy and Chad quickly got back to what they were doing as the bloated form of Fraulein Hiffenburg waddled up the path. Hiffenburg was their supervisor and she was also a little bit mental.

Mental didn't actually cover it. Chad swore he'd once seen her bite the head off a squirrel and use its guts to varnish a park bench, although that was Chad speaking and Chad was about as reliable as a WWI fighter plane with no engine, no wings and with Gabriella Montez as a pilot.

Hiffenburg lumbered towards them.

"Vas ist going on?" She spat, right into Troy's face. Troy slowly reached up and wiped the spittle out of his eye.

"I'm just picking up the litter..." He motioned towards the packet of cheesy nibblers now safely captured between his fingers.

"Oh!" Hiffenburg barked. "I see! Picking up zer litter are ve?"

"Erm...yes..."

"Vell then..." She said, sarcasm dripping in torrents, so much so that Troy was nearly swept along down the current of sarkyness. "I vill leave you to it, shall I?"

"That would be great." With an air of severe distaste, Hiffenburg turned to address Chad.

"And vat..." She began. "...have ve here?"

"I dunno, really..." Chad said, raising the weird metal implement. "...we can't seem to work out what it's for..."

"I vill tell you vat it's for!" Hiffenburg barked. "Sticking up the rear end of boys that don't VERK!!!" She drew breath as Troy and Chad cowered beneath her. "You are here for a REASON!" She yelled. "You have done BAD THINGS! And you vill PAY!" She turned on her heel and went over to deal with another orange overall clad boy who appeared to have stuck himself to a lamppost.

"My god..." Chad murmured. " I don't know how much more I can take of this..."

"Only another 29 hours..."

*

Just because they were juvenile delinquents, Troy and Chad weren't allowed to skip school. After eight hours of suffering in a classroom environment, they were mercilessly chucked outside, where they suffered in an outside environment. Troy's life was mainly one big pile of suffering.

Coach Bolton, however, was incredibly proud of his son and kept shouting inappropriate things out in the middle of assembly, to prove his point. Not preventing the blowing up of number 47 was the most manly thing Troy have ever done, and the Coach was deliriously happy that his son had not yet turned into a girl.

Gabriella however, was not as ecstatic about Troy's actions. After a two hour lecture on exactly how 'immoral' his behaviour had been, Troy had pointed out that she'd been too drunk to notice the house explode around her and had then dribbled all the way down Taylor's new 'Bench' top which, all things considered, she should really apologise for. This earned him a smack.

Sharpay was also among the people no longer speaking to him. Occasional huffs were the only attempt at communication she made, although Troy found himself less than bothered. Before, he'd been offended at her icy attitude, although he now found himself with more important things to lose his head over.

Terrorists wanted him.

After the party, Barry had popped round once or twice, disguised as a delivery boy providing a pizza no one had ordered. This guise wasn't particularly effective, as Barry was around thirty eight and couldn't really be called a boy in anyone's books. Coach Bolton turned a blind eye however; he thought he was dealing drugs: an easy step into manhood.

While Coach Bolton happily imagined exactly how high his son might be at that moment, Gabriella disowned her boyfriend and Mrs Bolton scoffed the discarded pizza's in the kitchen, Barry and Troy came up with an elaborate scheme on how to rig the next basketball game. Actually, it wasn't that elaborate, but it would work...