Title: What else can one expect from Halloween?

Summary: AU As a boy, every time Troy Bolton would go trick or treating, he would always visit Mrs. Montez. Now 16 and back from boarding school, he decides to drop by on Halloween. He is fortunate enough to meet Mrs. Montez’s daughter.

Disclaimer: I don’t own, or claim to own any of the characters original to the movie High School Musical. They are copyright to Disney; I only own the plot.

Recap: It’s Halloween, which finds a 16 year old Troy Bolton fresh out of bordering school, and after much pestering from his mother, Troy Bolton is sent to Mrs. Montez’s house to as he used to when he was younger on Halloweens eve. After an awkward exchange with Mrs Montez’s lovely daughter Gabriella, he is invited into the house, which leads us on to where we are now...

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The men and women of various ages that dotted the walls photo’s arrangements seemed to welcome Troy back, as he walked down the ever faintly familiar hallway after the Mother and Daughter. The individuals sat contently in their greyscale photo frames, and somewhere in Troy’s mind, his wit snidely remarked of its joy that Gabriella had not inherited her ancestor’s facial hair.

He was led into the same small kitchen. It was still a room of organised clutter, but there were a few differences between what was in front of him, and the picture he had in his memory.

“It’s almost how I remembered it.” He mused, admiring the bricolage of a kitchen. His eyes flicked from the four corners of the room, quickly taking in the changes, while he tried to keep an insouciant manner. Though he made sure to grin slightly at Mrs. Montez so she could tell it was a compliment.

Mrs. Montez was obviously flattered, but her modesty appeared in a flash, and she waved away Troy’s comment.

“Oh yes, but since Gabriella moved in, it’s much more organised now- Why just look at it.”

Her voice was laden with the confidence of a proud mother, as Troy noted that her words rung true. He voiced more of his observations, not wanting another silence alike to the one at the door.

“It’s modern thanks to the new renovations I see, but it’s not simple, it’s . . .”

He paused for a moment, as Mrs. Montez offered him a seat, and a cookie that was piping hot, fresh from the oven.

“It’s homey- I couldn’t mistake it for anyone else’s kitchen.” He finished, already half way through his biscuit.

Apparently, when one lives with another for most of their life, they become very much aware of when the other will be an embarrassment. Gabriella must have had such a notion now, as she strode over to the refrigerator, and promptly stuck her head in it, appearing to be looking for the milk.

Mrs. Montez was overly pleased at Troy’s opinion, clapping her hands together and setting a motherly smile on her maw. She pushed a plate of her biscuits in- front of him, and Troy tried not to let his grin crawl to far upwards. The Montez cookies were famous around here. You didn’t come to this house for candy; you came here for whatever Mrs. Montez had pulled out of her oven, which always seemed to be her almost overly rich caramel snaps. Not that anyone every complained about that.

“Oh, such a thoughtful boy- See Gabriella, I told you he was a dear.”

Gabriella (who had now removed herself from the fridge) stood at her Mother’s side, milk carton now in hand, and smiled condescendingly.

“Well I think he just wants your caramel cookies mama.” Gabriella replied. Troy noted the smirk she sent his way, which showed that she knew his real motives for coming here. He averted her gaze, and suddenly the bench top was a lot more interesting than it had a few seconds ago.

Troy accepted a refrigerated glass of milk from Gabriella, painfully aware of the equally frosty look Mrs. Montez was sending her daughter. It was exactly the same look his mother had given him last Thanks Giving when he’s taught his cousin how to spurt orange juice out of his nose. Good times.

“Oh, but Gabriella, can you blame the boy?”

A nostalgic glint entered Mrs. Montez’s eyes, and she clasped her hands together.

“Why even you, my little Gabby, enjoyed sneaking off with a few of my biscuits- do you remember that?”

Gabriella rolled her eyes slightly, and nodded her head. It was obvious she wasn’t willing to admit her childhood antics verbally.

But Mrs. Montez had moved on from teasing her daughter, and appeared to have remembered something, and muttered an ‘I’ll be right back’, before exiting the room.

Lifting his glass to drink, Troy set it down, and ran his finger idly around the water mark his cup had made, while he decided on what to say.

“So, where did your mum just go exactly?”

The brunette answered his question, first, with an expression of surprise, and then a lazy shrug of her shoulders.

“She does that a lot- you know, just walk out of the room. I guess I’m just used to it.”

Troy nodded, as if he understood this un- common behaviour.

As an average 16 year old boy, Troy wasn’t deeply connected with the art of conversation. You could say that his vocabulary was larger then the norm, but even though he was an A grade student in English, and he spoke it everyday, forming a single smart sentence, was harder then he ever thought it could be. And come to think of it, since when had any girl ever left him flustered, confused, and devoid of his senses?

“Which school are you going to?”

Once again, Gabriella fished the conversation up again.

“East High; who knows what that's going to be like. My parents chose it.”

Gabriella’s brow raised, and she smiled a pretty smile that turned Troy’s knees into jelly.

“Really? That’s the school I go to; maybe I can show you around. Believe me; I know its hard being new.”

Troy couldn’t hide the grin on his face.

“Sure; I know when I hear a good offer.”

Gabriella nodded her head and grinned cheekily.

“Cool; but if you start hanging out with the Goth’s, the deals off.”

The two teens shared a chuckle and smiled in agreement, and Troy found that after getting over his speech troubles, and embarrassment, talking to Gabriella was easy.

At that moment, Mrs. Montez hurried back into the room, with what appeared to be a white and red basketball.

She presented it to Troy, and he took it from her, but not without eying it suspiciously first.

“It was a gift from a local family; something that belonged to one of their already graduated sons.” Mrs. Montez explained.

“They heard I had a child going into East High, and they gave it to us, only to find that Gabriella wasn’t planning to play basketball at school, but they let us keep it anyway.”

Troy weighed the ball in his hand. It had definitely been used in the past, but there wasn’t anything that the ball needed more then to pump it up, before it couldn’t be deemed playable.

“Your dad had his eye on it actually. I think he’ll be especially happy to see you now.”

Troy barely noticed Gabriella coming over to admire the basketball for herself, until her head was right next to his. He shook what felt like an oncoming daze, not wanting Mrs. Montez to catch him staring at her daughter. She didn’t seem like the type of mother to keep that kind of observation to herself.

He quickly checked his watch.

It read 10:00 p.m., which probably meant his dad would be home around now.

He cleared his throat before he spoke.

“Speaking of my dad; I think I’d better go home and see him. He’s been at a conference, and I haven’t seen him since I got back.”

Mrs. Montez nodded her head enthusiastically, and went on about how of course she knew that. A few more cookies were packed for him and his family, and he was kindly brought to the door again.

Mrs. Montez looked like she could have drawn the goodbye on for a good hour, but the sound of a phone ringing caught her attention away, and her farewell was short and sweet instead.

Troy faced Gabriella again, part of him finally coming to terms with the fact that this was indeed Mrs. Montez’s daughter.

“So . . . I’ll see you on Monday then.”

Gabriella confirmed his statement with a nod and a sleepy grin.

“Okay; see you Monday then.”

“Right . . . cool; seeya Monday.”

Troy waved a final goodbye, and swung around to go down the pathway. He took one look back when he reached the end of the path. The front door was closed.

And for the first time after meeting Gabriella, Troy was finally able to say what he had been thinking all night.

“Damn she’s hot.”

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Authors Note: The latest update ever. Period.

Changed the title; twas bugging me a lot. Look for more.

Review at your leisure.

- Mizani

PS: No offense to Goth's btw. Why Gabriella says what she said, you'll find out soon!!