Author: Literature Is Life PM
One girl. One boy. One gun. He feels invisible and plans on making her pay. She isn't the one responsible. Her best friend waits outside anxiously, praying for her safe return. He still hasn't told her how he feels. Inspired by book: Give a Boy a Gun.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Troy B. & Gabriella M. - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,016 - Reviews: 103 - Favs: 148 - Follows: 18 - Published: 06-22-07 - Status: Complete - id: 3610540
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's Note: This was inspired by the book Give a Boy a Gun by Todd Strasser. We read the book in English this year, and my friend and I fell in love with it. It's so eye-opening. It's a fantastic book and I would certainly recommend it.
This story is also slightly darker than my previous stories.
Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical. But one day, that big poster of Zac Efron will be mine.
The normally pristine lawn of the East High school grounds was littered with discarded coffee cups, stray school papers, and broken Police Line: Do Not Cross tape that had been torn from trees. Screams were coming from all over and students were running away from the school as police shouted through megaphones to remain calm. Two boys and a girl could be seen at the line of tape, arguing with a police officer.
"You don't understand!" the boy with golden, shaggy hair shouted. "My best friend is still inside. That psycho has her!" The officer tried in vain to calm him down. Then, the girl spoke up.
"Look," she snarled, her dark skin glowing, "our friend is being held captive in there and you have the gall to turn us away?" The man groaned, wiping a hand across his forehead.
"Look," he started. "You cannot, under any circumstance, be allowed to cross this line. We don't know what this kid is capable of and we don't know how many others there are." The African American boy with puffy hair stepped forward, scowling.
"Do you know anything?" he snapped. The officer sighed, pulling out a pad.
"What are your names?"
The officer nodded and disappeared into the crowd. Troy, Chad and Taylor exchanged nervous glances. Taylor clung to Chad and buried her face in his chest.
"What if she doesn't come out?" she whispered. Chad ran his hand up and down her back comfortingly.
"Don't say that," he cooed. "She'll be fine." Troy ran a hand through his hair and exhaled shakily.
"This can't be happening," he said. "Not to Gabriella." He shook his head, thinking about the look on his best friend's face when she was grabbed from behind.
He watched as she walked towards him, weaving in and out of students. Arriving beside him, she leaned back against his locker, breathing heavily. The brushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.
"Hey," he chuckled. She glared at him.
"Shut up," she snapped. He noticed her tone and frowned slightly.
"Hey," he said softly. "What's wrong?" She sighed, looking up.
"Ah," she sighed. "Nothing really. I just had a pretty crappy weekend." He closed his locker, turning to face her.
"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on her arm. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" She looked down.
"I got a call from my dad," she murmured. "His new wife got on the phone." Troy frowned slightly.
"I didn't know your dad got remarried," he said softly. She scowled.
"Neither did I." His eye bulged. "He got married and didn't tell me, he didn't invite me, nothing." Troy wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
"Oh, Brie…" She buried her head in his chest.
"I hate him," she yelled. "He left us and thinks we don't matter any more! I still need a dad! But now I don't want one!" Troy gently rocked her side to side. She clutched his shirt in her fists, softly crying. Finally, she pulled back, wiping her eyes.
"Thank you," she murmured. He smiled at her. "I don't know what I would do without you. You're the best friend anyone could have." He gently rubbed her arms. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by a bang and a scream from around the corner. Gabriella rolled here eyes.
"Something just blew up in the science wing." Several people came running around the corner, looks of horror etched on their faces. "Ooh," Gabriella giggled, "it must have been one of the chemicals. Let's go see what happened." She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. He stopped her right before the turn and pulled her to the side to get out of the path of stampeding students.
"Wait," he murmured, stepping closer to her. His hand found this side of her face. She grinned, her cheeks flushing. He allowed his other hand to rest on her waist. He leaned forward slightly, as did she, and was about to kiss her when suddenly she was yanked from his arms. He frowned and turned the corner to find someone holding her, the barrel of a gun pressed to her temple. His eyes widened and he froze.
"Take one more step," her captor growled, putting his finger to the trigger, "and she's dead." Gabriella's eyes were wide and she was struggling against him. She was whimpering for him to let her go. Pressing the gun to her harder, he snarled for her to shut up. He started moving backwards, dragging her towards the elevator. Troy took a step forward but came to an immediate halt when they boy brandished the gun again.
"Do you want her dead?" he bellowed. Troy shook his head, watching helplessly as Gabriella struggled against his strong arms. How could this be happening? A kid holding a gun to Gabriella's head in East High? It wasn't possible. But it was happening.
"Then get out of here!" Troy didn't move, his eyes glued to Gabriella's face. She was terrified. He couldn't leave her. Suddenly, he found himself staring down the barrel of the gun. "Get. Out. Now. Or I swear I will shoot you and you'll both end up dead."
"Troy, just go," he heard Gabriella whimper.
"No," he snapped, "I'm not leaving you here." Gabriella clawed at the boy's hands, writhing in his grip.
"You won't get out of here alive unless you leave now." She was pleading with him.
"Now…Troy!" He cast one last helpless glance at her before backing away, around the corner.
"She was right there," he muttered. "I was fucking holding her and he yanked her away from me. She was right there, damn it!" Chad put a hand on his friend's shoulder in a vain attempt to calm him down.
"Troy, man, I'm sure she'll be fine." Chad bit his lip and glanced at the school. "The kid won't want murder on his hands." Troy's face paled and Taylor slapped Chad's arm.
"Shut up," she hissed, turning to Troy. She placed her hand on his arm. "Troy, she's going to be okay." Troy looked into Taylor's eyes and, for the first time in her life, she saw weakness and vulnerability. He would die for Gabriella and he would die without her.
"Excuse me," said a man, cutting in. "But are you the three who were asking about the girl?" Troy stepped forward immediately.
"Yeah, that's us." The man flipped out a badge and raised a section on the yellow tape.
"Come on," he muttered. Their eyes lit up and they rushed under.
"Do you know something?"
"Is she alright?"
"Did she come out?"
"Is she alright?"
"Who's in there?"
"Is she alright?"
The man groaned and held up his hands, silencing the three teenagers. Troy looked towards the building and saw several policemen standing on the front lawn, bent low behind their cop cars, using megaphones to tell the boy they had the building surrounded.
"I'm sorry, but she hasn't come out yet. We do know that there's only one kid, but we need more information about the young lady. What's her name?" Troy answered immediately.
"Gabriella Montez. She's seventeen. Her birthday is the fourteenth of December. She's got brown hair and brown eyes. She's stuck in the school with a freak that has a gun!" The policeman glared at him.
"How are you related to her?" Troy returned his glare.
"I'm her boyfriend." Chad gave him a puzzled look and Taylor gave a small smile.
Inside the School:
Gabriella whimpered as the bell in the elevator rang and she was dragged out again. The school had cleared out. It seemed that they were the only ones left. The boy threw her into a room and slammed the door shut behind her, locking it. She cowered on the floor as the turned around.
"Get up," he snarled, his voice quivering slightly. She stood, shaking.
He pointed the gun at her and she squeezed her eyes shut, golden hair flashing through her mind.
"Go to the window and open it." She opened her eyes slowly and made her way to the window, praying her legs wouldn't give out underneath her. Trying to keep her hands steady, she opened the window and looked out to see police cars all over.
"I see her!" she heard someone shout. The crowd that had gathered in front of the school was now silent, all staring at the window.
"I'm going to get you a phone," a calm, loud voice said. Gabriella let out a yelp and ducked as a black object came hurtling towards her head. She picked it up. The boy called her back and ordered that she sit in the corner farthest from the window. He grabbed the walkie-talkie from her as she passed. A voice came through, asking what his demands were.
Gabriella pulled her knees up to her chest, blocking out the boy's rant. She needed to stay calm. Calm, think calm. Uh…calm… Her thoughts went straight to Troy. He was going to kiss her. Troy Bolton had been about to kiss her, Gabriella Montez.
She was so thankful that he left. If he'd died because of her, she would've been destroyed. When the boy pointed the gun at him, she thought she might pass out.
Suddenly, the boy slammed the black object on the desk and turned towards Gabriella. She backed as far into the corner as she could go.
"Please," she begged, "don't hurt me." The boy glared at her and moved cautiously towards the windows, quickly closing the blinds on all windows but the open one. He turned back to her and leveled the gun with her forehead.
The golden hair flashed again.
"Shut up." Gabriella closed her mouth.
Troy whirled around when he heard someone shouting. A policeman was pointing at the window. He peered at it and rushed forward when he saw Gabriella looking out of it.
"Chad, Taylor, she's up there," he said, pointing, his arm shaking. He watched her duck at they hurled a walkie-talkie into the room. She jumped suddenly and rushed away from the window. He heard the cops shouting as the blinds on the unopened windows began shutting.
"What's going on?" Chad asked, squinting at the window. "Where did she go?"
"We can't see her anymore. He's closing all the blinds," Troy heard a cop report. He cursed under his breath.
At least she's still alive, he thought. Taylor was wringing her hands together, wiping away the occasional tear.
"Thank God he didn't kill her…thank God." Troy nodded slowly, wanting nothing more than to be holding Gabriella in his arms again.
It had been almost an hour since the boy had taken her captive and Gabriella had finally figured out who he was. He wasn't wearing a mask; it wasn't really difficult. He was sitting on the teacher's desk, the gun still in his hand. He kept shifting his gaze from the single open window to her. Gabriella slowly scooted towards him, making sure that he didn't see her. Suddenly he stood, pointing the gun at her. He signaled that she should return to the corner, but instead, defiantly, she sat at the desk in the far, back corner. He didn't seem to care. He looked down at the gun in his hands, turning it over repeatedly.
"It's a gun," she snapped before she could stop herself. Her hand flew to cover her mouth as he glared at her, his grip on the handle of the gun tightening.
"I know what it is," he growled. "I also know that it can end your life in a matter of seconds." Gabriella gulped silently, cursing her short temper. "Would you like a demonstration?" She remained silent. He stood, pointing the gun in her direction.
Blue eyes popped into her thoughts.
He pulled the trigger and she flinched, waiting for the pain. It never came. She opened her eyes slowly, shaking. Turing around, she saw the bullet lodged in a textbook atop a cabinet. Her eyes wide, she turned around, not daring to say another word. So her hypothesis had been wrong. This kid did know what he was doing.
The boy turned around to look at the white board. Mrs. Braston: AP English. He scoffed, running over the words with his fingers, erasing them.
"Advanced Placement English; you take this class, don't you Gabriella?" He turned to face her. She nodded slowly. "Name the kids in your class; all ten. I know; small class." Gabriella gulped. "Now."
"Kristen James, Johnny McGuire, Michelle Behrman, Troy Bolton, Taylor McKessie, Josh Skye, Cheyenne Donnellson, Matthew Richards, me and..." She hesitated and he smirked. "…you," she finished, clearly shocking him, "Logan Marshall." He was plainly stunned.
"How do you know my name?" he snapped. "Nobody ever knows who I am." Gabriella looked him up and down.
"I know who you are," she replied calmly. I've seen you around school. Hell, you've been in my class all year long. I know that you're the one who does all of the computer stuff around here. You know more about them than the teachers. And," she hesitated, "I think that's pretty cool." Logan scowled.
"So that's what you're doing? You're trying to get on my good side?" Gabriella shook her head.
"No, Logan. I'm not trying to get on your good side. I'm trying to get to know you more. To figure out why you're holding me hostage in a room, threatening me with a gun." He turned away from her, slamming the gun down on the desk.
"Yeah, well there are things I would like to find out, too. But I'll never find them out, so neither will you." Gabriella shook her head.
"Is it so unreasonable for me to want to know why I'm here?" she exclaimed. "What did I ever do to you?" Logan whirled around.
"Someone has to pay!" he bellowed, and she could see tears welling in his eyes. "Someone has to pay for what this school has done to me!" Gabriella shrunk back slightly.
"I've never seen anyone hurt you," she retorted. He scowled, cursing away.
"Every day!" he screamed. "Every fucking day! I would prefer if they beat me up! Then, at least, they would know that I'm alive!" Gabriella winced, her palms beginning to sweat.
"They have no idea," he yelled, kicking the desk. "No one in this whole fucking school knows that I'm alive! And it hurts! You've been in this school for a year and I've been here for eleven! And yet every single person, every person knows who you are and you're the only person who knows my name." Gabriella bit her lip. She knew what this kid was talking about. In every other school she'd gone to, she'd been completely invisible.
"Logan, people know you." He rolled his eyes.
"Nobody knows who I am."
"He fired a shot!" the cop shouted. Cops swarmed the car. "It missed the girl." Troy breathed a sigh of relief, thankful. Turning to Taylor, he saw Ms. Montez approaching from behind her.
"Troy," she called wearily, struggling against the police near the Caution tape. He ran over, telling them to let her though, that she was Gabriella's mother. She stepped under the police tape and put her hands on the boy's arms.
"Troy, where is Gabriella?" Troy looked at the school. "No," she breathed. "No, she can't be… Oh, Troy, tell me she isn't." Troy sighed.
"I wish she wasn't, Ms. Montez. But she's in there." Christina put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes.
"Oh, not my baby." Troy turned, beckoning Chad and Taylor over. They all helped Christina to a car, letting her rest against it. "Lord, don't take my baby away from me," she whispered. Chad and Troy exchanged worried glances while Taylor attempted to comfort Gabriella's mom.
"Ms. Montez," Taylor murmured, "I'm sure Gabriella will be fine." Ms. Montez's shoulders heaved and tears began running down her face.
"Taylor, she's the only thing I have left. They already took my husband from me. Don't let them take my baby. Please don't let them take my baby."
Gabriella watched as Logan ran his hands through his hair. He turned to her.
"You know who the worst are?" he asked. "The jocks. They walk around like they own this damn school." Gabriella felt her jaw tense. "Like that asshole, Bolton. As if he deserves to be in this class. He practically flunked English last year. The only reason he was accepted in this class is because of you. You helped him with all of his projects, and you helped him study for everything."
"That's not true!" she argued, slamming her hand on the desk. "He's smart! He did everything by himself this year!" Logan smirked and Gabriella cursed inwardly. She couldn't control her temper today. She was going to end up pushing him so far that he would shoot her.
"Well, of course, you would stand up for him. You're in love with him." She frowned.
"I am not." Logan chuckled.
"Come on, Gabriella. Do you really think he's smart? Or do you just think he's really hot?" Gabriella clenched her jaw.
"Maybe I think he's both," she snapped, not realizing what she'd said. "Maybe you just can't deal with the fact that he's not your typical moron jock. Maybe you just wish he was stupid because you want something to horde over him. Maybe you're just upset that he doesn't fit!" Logan raised his eyebrows.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he snapped, sitting on the desk again. Gabriella slouched in her seat, crossing her arms.
"You want this school to be the school people read about all the time. The moron jocks who are worshiped and the poor, intelligent, picked-on geeks. Troy doesn't fit into that because he's not a moron! And I bet that pisses you off to no end." Logan remained silent. "And it's because you feel completely gypped. If it works one way, why the hell doesn't it work the other? That's what you're wondering, right?" Logan nodded curtly.
"It should, shouldn't it?" he demanded. "Why should they get brains and be respected for it, while we have the same thing and are crucified for it?" Gabriella paused.
"That's true," she said forcefully. "But do you really think that he's got it so easy? I've been his friend for a while now, and I know exactly what he goes through. It's not walk through the park. His dad is riding him all the time; it's basketball all the time with that man. It mom is riding him all the time; academics count. Ms. Darbus is riding him all the time; his singing needs to improve. And he does it all." Logan was silent.
"That," Gabriella said, "is why he's 'respected,' as you put it." Logan stood.
"And what about me?" he asked softly. "You think I just sit at home alone, doing whatever the hell I want? My parents ride me too! All the time! Troy's not the only one with parents who care! I swim every day after school; do you really think my coaches don't tell me that I need to do better?" Gabriella bit the inside of her cheek.
"You might have a point, but does that justify what you're doing?" Logan turned away from her. "You're in a school, threatening me with a gun! What did I ever do to you?" He turned back.
"So you would prefer if I went outside and got Troy and his buddies and brought them in here? You would prefer if I gathered them up and blew their brains out?" Gabriella scowled.
"That's not what I said!" she snapped, standing up. Logan turned to her, leveling the gun with her head.
That cheeky smile of his flashed before her eyes.
"Sit down," he growled. She froze, the look on her face stony. Slowly, she sank down into a seat, much closer to the front than her original one.
"Why didn't you just talk to someone?" she asked. "Why'd you have to get a gun?" Logan ran a hand through his hair.
"Gabriella, you are so damn nosy." She scowled.
"Wouldn't you be a little curious too? You could've talked to guidance counselors, or teachers, or even students. What about me? You could've talked to me." Logan rolled his eyes.
"Sure I could have," he scoffed. "Hey Gabriella," he mocked, "I feel invisible here. Help me out." He snorted. "That would've gone over real well." Gabriella sighed, looking down at her fingers.
"Why don't you talk to me now?" Logan glared at her. "Sheesh. I was only trying to help." Logan rolled his eyes.
"No wonder Bolton's into you. You're both pig-headed and obnoxious." Gabriella scowled.
"I am not obnoxious," she retorted. Troy's not obnoxious either. Logan reached over and picked up the black walkie-talkie, pushing the button.
"Say that again," he instructed her, holding it up to her mouth.
"I am not obnoxious," she repeated through gritted teeth.
"There you go," he snapped into the radio. "There's your proof that she's alive." Slamming the radio down, he turned back to Gabriella. "I've been meaning to do that for a while." Gabriella glared at him.
Two hours had passed and Gabriella still hadn't gotten Logan to open up. Clearly, snapping at him and being calm wasn't working. Time to pull a Sharpay. Carefully, she reached up and pulled the hair-tie out of her hair, using it to tie the back of her shirt, causing then hem to rise and causing it to tighten around her torso. Slowly, she rolled the waist of her shorts, making them rise on her thighs and lower on her hips. Cautiously, she stood and walked to him, her hips swaying. She approached his back.
"Logan," she whispered in his ear. He whirled around. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut his mouth again. Gabriella smiled flirtatiously, licking her lips. She backed him up against the whiteboard, breathing in his ear. Gently, she nipped his earlobe. She heard a slight grunt escape his lips and tired to hold in her gag. Stepping away from him, she sat on the desk, her legs spread in front of her. Gesturing for him to come closer with her finger, he approached, his steps shaky. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close. He stumbled, his hands landing beside her hips on her desk.
"Hi," she murmured. He remained silent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, her eyes darting to the gun flashing in his left hand. She grinned again, bringing her lips nearer to his. "Let's have some fun," she whispered before crashing her lips onto his. She couldn't tell if he was really kissing back or if it was merely her imagination. Either way, she continued to kiss him, praying he would go with it. Her arms unwrapped from around his neck and started a slow decent down his arms, starting at his shoulders. She felt his arms through his shirt and was overcome with a wave of guilt; how could she be doing this to Troy. Her hand worked its way down towards his own; her fingers wrapping around the gun. Slowly, she eased it from his grip, moving it behind her back and setting it down on the desk.
He pulled back from the kiss slightly, but she sent him a small smile. Kissing him again, she ran her hands back up his arms, letting them come to rest on his neck. Gently, she rubbed her tongue against his lips, and he pulled away slightly, reaching into his pocket. She paused to catch her breath, curious about what he was doing. She could see whatever he was reaching for gleaming in the light. He quickly jumped away from her, whipping out the object.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" he roared, pressing a second gun to her head.
That cute look he gave her whenever she made him watch the Titanic flashed through her mind.
"I'm not stupid!" Gabriella shook her head frantically; her only thought was to stay alive. She grabbed for the gun that she just set on the table, accidentally pulling the trigger and sending a bullet flying into the chalkboard in the back of the classroom. She uttered a scream but then whirled around, holding the gun out to Logan.
"Here," she yelped, "take it back! You can have it." The look on Logan's face softened as he took the gun from her.
"Close the window," he said. She jumped to her feet, scurrying to the window. She closed it quickly, casting a helpless glance at the crowd below. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw Troy in the crowd. Logan instructed her to close the blinds and she did so. Although it was the middle of the day, without the fluorescent lights or the open windows, the room was now dark. She returned to where he was standing, her head down.
"If you didn't want it, why did you take it?" His voice was calm.
"I just wanted to talk to you," she said softly. "And I wanted to talk to you without a gun pointed at my head. I wanted to have a normal conversation." Logan rolled his eyes.
"Are you serious? A normal conversation now?" Gabriella shrugged her shoulders.
"Is it really that ridiculous?" Logan shrugged his shoulders, and then gestured for her to sit at the front row desk. He sat down himself, placing the first gun beside him and the second back into his pocked.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked and her mouth fell open.
"Are you serious?" He smirked at her. It was the first time he didn't look angry.
"I just made you with a girl before Troy Bolton could. I'm on Cloud Nine." Gabriella glared at him.
"She's got the gun…She got it away from him." Taylor grabbed the man's elbow, her eyes glued to the school building.
"Gabriella's got the gun?" He nodded, not really paying attention to her. Taylor ran back to the others.
"Gabriella has the gun!" she said excitedly, hugging her stomach. Maybe she was going to be alright. Maybe this nightmare would finally end.
"She's closing the blinds," they announced. The officers began whispering amongst themselves.
'Why is she closing the blinds? She should be opening them. Why isn't she talking to us?'
Troy looked past Taylor and saw a policeman approaching them. He excused himself and met the man halfway. "Is she going to be okay?" The policeman gave him a small smile.
"Seeing as," he checked his pad, "Miss Montez is now in the possession of the weapon, we can send our men up there to get her." Troy grinned, running a hand through his hair. "Is this woman her mother?" the man asked, pointing to Ms. Montez. Troy nodded. "Excuse me." He headed to the group to give them the good news.
Troy sighed, shaking his head. "She's alright. She's going to be alright." Someone came up behind him, wrapping their arms around his waist.
"She's going to be alright!" Taylor squealed. Troy smiled at her, pulling her into a hug.
"Yeah, she's going to be alright."
"They're going to send people up here," he told her as she sat down again. "They all think that you're in control. The cops should be up here within the next twenty minutes." Gabriella nodded slightly.
"So what does that mean for me? Are you telling me that I'm going to die?" Logan sighed, not answering her. "Are you going to shoot me?" she snapped. Her questions remained unanswered. Sighing, she stood up, walking to the back of the classroom. She let her head rest on the chalkboard, trying hard not to look at the bullet that she'd placed in it.
"So am I just going to die here?" she asked. "You're just going to shoot me." Logan didn't answer. Gabriella let out an aggravated groan and lowered herself to the floor. "What about me?" she moaned. "I'm never going to see my mother again. I'm never going to see my friends again." What about Troy? she added in her head. You're never going to see him again.
"Logan," she pleaded, "I don't want to die! I want to grow old with my friends. I want to live my life. Don't you?" Logan shook his head.
"I don't know what I want, Gabriella. Do I want to live for the next seventy years alone? Or do I want to end the suffering now?" Gabriella brushed several stray hairs out of her face, suddenly feeling something wet fall down her cheek. She was crying.
This was the first time she'd cried the whole day.
Logan had been right. They had sent cops up. They screamed through the door, telling her to remain calm, that they were going to get inside. She rolled her eyes, cursing their stupidity; they were going to get her killed. Breathing became difficult as she stood. She picked up a dry-erase marker. Uncapping it, she wrote five things on the board.
GM ♥ TB
There. She'd made it public. And now he would know. After this was all over, after Logan decided what her fate was, Troy would know just how she felt. No more secrets, no more hiding her feelings. Too bad it was just a little too late. That was her one regret. Not telling him. She should have told him. He deserved to know.
The banging on the door was so loud that Gabriella could scarcely hear her own thoughts. Logan stood and walked to the back of the classroom where she was, his hand clutching the gun. Police were shouting from outside the door, still under the impression that Gabriella had the gun in her possession.
"Well," Logan said softly, as the door began to crack, "I guess this is goodbye." He held up the gun and Gabriella squeezed her eyes shut. There was a loud, echoing bang as Logan pulled the trigger and the police crashed into the classroom. Gabriella's body crashed to the floor.
Troy froze as he heard a gun shot being fired. Gabriella wouldn't have had the heart to pull the trigger, and therefore, he was the one who fired the shot. For the love of God, let him have missed.
Taylor gripped Chad's shirt as her legs began giving out beneath her. She was sobbing as Chad held her.
"Someone," she heaved, "in that room…is dead. And Gabriella…wouldn't shoot…anyone." Chad struggled to comfort her.
"Maybe that was the police shooting and not the kid. Maybe they got him," Chad suggested, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. Troy turned to the nearest policeman.
"Did the cops get in the room yet?" he asked quickly. Please, he begged inwardly, let her be alright. The dark haired officer opened his mouth to respond when a voice came over his radio.
"We're inside the room; just got in." Troy's heart sank. The police couldn't have fired the shot.