A/N: Hello, so here's the first chapter of Stolen, an AU Troyella story. The song it is based loosely on is Stolen by Dashboard Confessional.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.



Chapter One



She stood in a corner, leaning against the two adjoining walls. Her red plastic "Solo" cup filled with caramel colored beer. She took a sip, loving the feeling of the carbonated bubbles on her tongue. The beer was bitter down her throat, but she didn't care. After finishing the previous quarter with a raw 4.0 grade point average, she had decided that she could cut loose for one night. Her mother thought she was with Taylor McKessie, her best friend of ten years. Of course she was betraying her mother's trust, but Gabriella was convinced that since she was such a good daughter, one night of trouble should surely not harm their bond.

She glanced up from the bottom of her beer, glancing at the people making fools out of themselves on the dance floor. Guys pulling girls up close to them, bobbing their heads along to lyrics about "pimp slapping a hoe," and giving high fives to their surrounding friends. She continued to scan the floor, eyeing a one Chad Danforth who was switching the cd in the stereo system. She groaned when yet another rap song about "getting hyphy" came on. She took another small sip of her beer, realizing that she only had a few left. Gabriella let her eyes wander yet again; they glanced far across the room, where another person was standing idly taking in the sight before him. She let her eyes linger on him; she knew exactly who he was. Chances were though; he had no clue as to who she was. They only had one class together, AP World History. He spoke often in that class, and sat in front of Gabriella. She had spent many a class staring at his hair, wondering what it would be like to run her fingers through it. The minute she had confronted Taylor about her schoolgirl like crush, she had immediately dismissed it.

"You can't like Troy, Gabriella. Don't you know his reputation? 'Two Week Troy.' The first week he makes you swoon, the second week he wastes no time screwing you, and by the second Sunday, you're dumped." Was all that Taylor had supplied to her on that subject before changing it completely to how cheerleaders always have perfect manicures.

Gabriella shifted her gaze back to Troy, letting her eyes trace his jaw line, cheekbones, and where his chest disappeared under his shirt. He had obviously just come from basketball, as he was just wearing a "wife beater" tank top and his white East High Captain's jacket. Her eyes returned to his face, and she noticed that he was too staring at her. Blushing slightly, she turned her attention back to her beer, not noticing that he started to make his way toward her.

"Want me to refill that for you?" She had jumped slightly when she heard his smooth voice. She looked up to meet his sapphire eyes, losing herself slightly.

"No, no, I should get going." Gabriella replied hastily setting her beer down on a nearby table.

"Why the rush? Come on, I'll refill it for you, we'll dance, then you can leave. Fifteen minutes tops, humor me." Troy said, picking up her cup and swiping it below the keg resting on the same table. He returned to Gabriella who in turn was speechless. "Here," he said, passing it to her. She blindly took one big gulp, and then handed it back to Troy.

"Let's dance." She said with a drunken grin. And she pulled him onto the dance floor. The song had changed merely halfway through the song that preceded it. A slower song now started blaring through the speakers, which made people start booing and cat calling. But the pair didn't care; Troy spent the song staring into Gabriella's chocolate brown eyes, wondering what they would look like when she was in all types of moods, happy, sad, lusty, tired, all came into mind. His gaze broke when she took a step closer towards him, pressing her body into his. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and he did the same to her, with out knowing what had made him act on an impulse like that. He wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, letting his hands rest dangerously low on her back. Gabriella moved her hands so that one was resting on the nape of his neck, fingering his hair ever so lightly. The other was securely placed on his left scapula. His scent was fantastic, playing games in her nose, making her feel a passionate heat in the pit of her stomach. Troy shifted his head so that his nose was nuzzled into her hair. He could feel her neck with the mere tip of his nose, smelling a sweet scent that could only be described as wonderfully innocent. A soft smile played on both of their lips; neither of them knew the crowd dancing had completely turned their attention to them.

The two stayed like that for the next eight songs, not realizing that the tempo had varied completely song - to - song. It was only when a one Chad Danforth came up to Troy and poked him on the shoulder multiple times, resulting in the two jumping away from each other like they had both been licking nine - volt batteries.

Troy had led Gabriella out of the party and snagged her cell phone from her and hit the most recent number in her call log, hoping to God that it wouldn't be her mother. Gabriella shivered slightly in the cold, wearing only a flowy black top and jeans. Troy, acting chivalrous immediately took off his jacket and held it open to Gabriella, who hesitated before shrugging it on.

"Thanks," she said meekly, before leading the way to her house. The two disappeared down the haze filled street, Troy's hand rested firmly on the small of her back.


Blinking slightly, a seventeen year old sat up in her bed. Her drapes were drawn closed over her French doors to her balcony, shielding any light from her throbbing head. Two Tylenol lay on her bedside table with a glass of water accompanying them. She readily took them, shoving them into her mouth; slightly wincing when one hit a tooth. After washing them down with the water, she crept back under her comforter. A small piece of paper was thrown up into the air during her ungraceful shoving of her duvet, hitting her wrist in the process. With a sense of curiosity she felt around under her blanket for the paper, retrieving it only after she reached to the other side of her bed. Her head threatened to throb more when her comforter shifted and allowed some light into her cocoon of blankets and pillows. Squinting, she tried to make out what the letter said:


Call me.


Gabriella crumpled up the note and threw it away from her, hearing the small muffled sound it made when it hit one of the picture frames by her bed. Still under her covers, she fondled around her bedside table for her cell phone, in the process knocking down a candle and a lighter. Feeling the keypad on her Treo, she pulled it towards herself hitting the T for Taylor. Immediately, she shut her eyes tightly when the backlight shone brightly until the few seconds of its illumination went by.

"Thank God, I thought you got slipped GHB or something."

"Thanks for calling Poison Control for me Taylor, I know I'm safe with you." Gabriella replied sarcastically to her best friend of ten years.

"I'm sorry, the Tylenol, water, shielding of light, and the fact that I got you home with out your mom noticing aren't enough for you, ungrateful child. Since you don't want me, I guess I'll just crawl in a hole and die. Nice knowing you." Taylor said with mock hurt, adding a sniffle in for effect.

"Don't crawl in a hole, I'm thankful, I'm thankful." Groaned Gabriella, whose Tylenol was finally starting to kick in. Feeling adventurous, she climbed out of bed and started to make her way across her room, stopping for a second and eyeing a white East High track jacket. One worn exclusively by-

"Gabriella, what did you do last night? All I remember is this guy calling me from your cell and asking where you lived," Taylor went on, "His voice was familiar… Like I've heard it a lot before. I told him how to get you in so that your mom didn't hear, and to write you a note. The Tylenol and curtains were actually his idea. Smart boy…"

"Oh no." Gabriella stated, picking up the jacket, the word "Captain" staring at her as if it were going to attack her at any minute. "Taylor, I'll call you back, my mom is calling me." She hit the "end" button on her phone and tossed it onto her bed. She looked down at herself and realized she had gotten into pajamas.


He didn't.

"Crap," Gabriella thought.

He did.

She had been naked in front of Troy Bolton.

And she couldn't remember a second of it.


Troy laughed heartily as he heard his mom greet Chad. "Good morning Chad. What happened to your hair?" Chad's sneakers were loud against the hard wood stairs as he hurriedly made his way to Troy's bedroom.

Seconds later Chad burst into his room with a freaked out expression on his face, Troy tried hard to keep from grinning.

"Man, is something wrong with my 'fro? I can't tell… Oh no, if something's wrong with my hair, than I'll have nothing. Nothing you hear me? Girls only like me because of my hair. Nah, wait, that was a lie, girls love me because, well…" He smirked and glanced down. "You know."

"Good morning to you too Chad. No, nothing is wrong with your hair." Chad nervously fondled his 'do. "My mom just loves messing with you, runs in the family, wouldn't you say?"

"You Boltons are diabolical. Kicking me where it hurts." Chad ran his fingers through his hair, the chocolate brown locks springing back without a second thought.

"Yeah well, what else are we supposed to do in life?" Troy said, looking around his room. "Have you seen my jacket?" He had made his way to his closet, digging through it, tossing out anything that resembled his white East High Captain's jacket.

"Which one?" Chad asked, with a slight smile.

"You know which one. Talk about kicking where it hurts, Chad, what did you do with my jacket?"

"Nothing, nothing. But I know where it is…" He said in a singsong voice, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"Chad, that's my lucky jacket. Hand it over." Demanded Troy, whose face now had a stone - cold look on it.

"I don't have it, dude. The girl that you were permanently connected to at the, er, for lack of better word, pelvis, does. You went home with her after the party, remember? She was wearing it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes, you two were together the entire night. Don't you remember? She was standing in the corner alone, sipping beer, you went over there, laid down your favorite lines, she said no, you were persistent… She finished her beer, said yes, and laid her best moves on you. Ergo, rest of entire night you two dry humping on the dance floor." Chad said, his smile widening with each word. Troy's expression had changed, his face ashen, he ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair.

"Great synopsis Chad, I'll check out to movie later. Seriously, is that what happened? All I remember is calling one of her friends from her cell phone… shit. I did go home with her. But I don't remember doing anything," he laughed, "and I always remember doing something." Chad gave Troy a high five before he went on, "All I did was sneak her in, get her Tylenol, close her curtains, write a note, and… change her clothes."

"You changed her clothes? Freak. She probably thinks you gave her the Date Rape Drug and 'had your way with her.' I hope she wasn't anyone of too importance." Chad said, playfully smacking him on the back.

"She was beautiful… dark hair, dark skin, tight dark jeans, silver shoes, black top, and her eyes..." Troy reminisced as all the memories came flooding back into his brain. "Her eyes were beautiful. So expressive… Shit, shit, shit. How much did I have to drink last night?

"Oh, not that much, a couple Tequila shots and a few beers." Troy paled further, "And her name was? Think Troy. The name could bring you your Cinderella, if I may."


"Our codename for her until she reveals herself. Which she will, she has your jacket, and she doesn't seem like the creep that'll keep it to herself, make an alter to it, and then charge people five bucks to see it." Chad said with a grin, reminding Troy of his last girlfriend.

"Jess was just psychotic. Let's not go there, it was a mere lapse of judgment." Said an annoyed Troy, who pulled on a Duke Basketball sweatshirt.

"A lapse of judgment with a smokin' body." Smirked Chad, as he recalled Jessica Brown, a cheerleader at West High.

"Which is why I don't just do girls because of how hot they are anymore. Unlike you." Jabbed Troy, mocking Chad's new reputation.

"Wait a minute, don't just go all saintly on me, you have, and had, no idea of Cinderella's personality, and yet you laid down your best moves like she was Shakira or something."

"Well, she was different. I don't know, the way we, ugh, I don't want to sound like a girl, but man, we connected. And plus Chad, I don't have the same obsession with Shakira that you do." Troy said smiling, waiting for Chad's reply.

"Connected? Troy, man, I think you just got hit with Cupid's Arrow or something. You never ever talk like this. What ever this temptress has done, she's done it well. Come tomorrow, we'll be able to find out who stole your heart, I mean, jacket." The two laughed and made their way down to the Bolton's basketball court in the backyard, and started their one - on - one tournament. "And by the way, how can you not be obsessed with Shakira. Have you seen her dance?" Added Chad as they ran down Troy's stairs.

"She couldn't dance like this girl…" Troy trailed as he picked up an obnoxiously orange basketball, its dimples pressing into his skin as he squeezed it. The familiar feeling combined with a whimsical state of curiosity, made him subconsciously whisper, "Gabriella... Gabriella Montez."