Chapter One: Treehouse
I have a Guardian Angel,
She doesn't grant wishes,
Or sprinkle fairy-dust.
Rather she tells me when I should,
When I shouldn't,
And when I must.
Angels are generally known as mythical creatures. Beautiful and perfect, stunning and fragile, but certainly not real. Just figments of people's imaginations. Something to make them feel better, something to make them keep pushing on. Something people use to promote hope and serenity. I guess you could kind of liken them to religion.
Oh, shit, that sounds like I'm saying religion is a crock. It isn't, honest, or at least, I think so. I mean, I'm sure some of them out there are, I mean, I don't know a lot of scientologists that people take seriously. Oh shit, I just insulted scientologists. I am sorry, seriously. I am sure Xenu will have his way with me when the time comes. Oh for the love of, that sounds so wrong, I did not mean it that way.
I'm rambling. Here's the thing, let's be scientific for three seconds and forget religion and myth and whatever, I am not saying the two are related. But what I am saying is that there's no proof of any of it. Of religion, of heaven, of angels. They are about as likely as unicorns. We, as humans, are taught to believe in the rational, the obvious. Two plus two equals four, the sky is blue, nothing is free and if it's in Star magazine, it ain't true.
But the thing is, we as humans kind of suck. We start wars and are mean, vindictive and unpleasant. There's so little love, so little care in the world, that quite frankly, no wonder we don't believe in the pleasant theories the world presents us. We are too hardened, too angry, too interested in waiting for Robert Pattinson to hook up with his co-star. Essentially, we are vain, vile creatures.
It's like, if someone asked you not to believe in the wind, surely you'd laugh at them. Just because you can't see it, doesn't mean it's not there?
So just because you can't see heaven, just because you can't see angels, doesn't mean they don't exist, right?
The answer lies with me and I'm about to tell you how I figured it out and dude, it wasn't easy. I'll probably offend you about thirty more times before we get to the end of this, so if you are super sensitive or some bull, you might wanna back out now.
Like most epically ridiculous stories, mine started at a high school. I was seventeen and that can pretty much sum up my mentality and personality. Hold on to this knowledge while I tell my tale.
It will help explain a lot of my shitty decisions as well as give me a good excuse as to why I was such an idiot.
"Dude, seriously, tonight is the night, I can feel it in my fucking bones!" Chad said wildly as Troy maneuvered his white truck down the street, the music blasting from his shitty, secondhand sound system. "We are going to get so fucking wasted and we are going to hook up with the hottest chicks in town!"
"You two," Gabriella's voice came from the backseat, "are pigs. Have I told you I hate you lately?"
Chad laughed uproariously and Troy nodded, glancing at her in his rearview mirror, grinning. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Only everyday, Gabs," Chad retorted, laughing.
"Hey!" Troy called back to her, "I would just like to point out that I never said anything about getting wasted or hooking up with anyone."
Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Right. Not like you weren't thinking about it."
Troy laughed. "Okay, you got me there."
"Asshole!" Gabriella yelled as she kicked the back of his seat, causing Troy to lurch forward.
"Hey!" he protested, "don't be such a bitch, Gabi!" he smiled at her again softly, genuinely. "You know you're my number one girl."
A soft blush spread across Gabriella's cheeks and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, pretending to roll her eyes again. "Okay, whatever, Romeo."
There was a pause as Chad looked between the two of them, shifting in his seat, before laughing again. "Oh god, you guys are such idiots."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Troy asked, glaring as they rolled to a stop at the red light. "I think that was uncalled for, don't you, Brie?"
"Yeah!" she pipped up, leaning over the side of Troy's seat. "I object!"
"You two need to chill!" Chad said with a chuckle. "I mean, come on! We're two weeks away from starting our junior year—shit is gonna get real soon! We need to fuck around and have as much fun as possible. Agreed?"
Glancing back at Gabriella over his shoulder, they shared a grin and nodded. "You know it!" Troy said, knocking his fist with Gabriella's. She smiled back at him.
"We're gonna rule the school this year, the three of us," Chad said fondly.
"Hey, what if I decide to go and branch out this year?" Gabriella asked coyly, "you know get some female friends of my own?"
"Ha ha, as if, Gabs," Chad said as the light turned green and Troy began to cross the intersection. "we're gonna be friends for life, till the day we die, till—"
His sentence was cut off as the black van ran through the red light and collided with his side of the truck and Gabriella screamed. Then—
Troy sprung up in bed, a thin layer of cold sweat clinging to his body. He panted heavily, his heart racing. Raising a trembling hand to run through his hair, he tried desperately to calm down.
It was that dream again, the same one he had been having at least once a week for the past year. The one that haunted him everyday.
The one that reminded him that Chad Danforth, his best friend and brother, was dead.
Sitting up in bed, he tried to still his breathing. God, why couldn't he just move past this? Why couldn't he heal? More than that, however, why did Chad have to die? Why did he have to be on the opposite side of the truck, why did the driver have to run through the red light, why—
He stopped. It was too early for this, too early for the same thoughts that had been running through his head everyday since it had happened. He needed to shower, he needed to eat something, he needed to think of a way to get Gabriella to let him copy her math homework. Shuddering, he pushed the thoughts of that terrible August day to the back of his mind and stumbled into the kitchen. He sighed, noticing that his dishes from the dinner he had cooked the night before were still sitting in the sink.
His parents still weren't home.
His father, Jack Bolton, was the assistant coach for the LA Lakers. How he had gotten the gig two years ago, Troy was constantly wondering, especially since they lived in fucking Albuquerque. But he did and this meant traveling for the majority of the year. It also meant that his mother was infinitely lonely, so this meant she traveled with him.
Which meant that Troy was alone for the better part of his days. It hadn't always been like this; he used to wake up to a warm greeting from his mother followed by a warm breakfast. This should have been every teenager's dream, no parents around most of the time. Total freedom. But to Troy, it was lonely; ridiculously lonely. There was no one there to make sure he ate well, no one there to pressure him to play in all of his basketball games. No one there to make sure he was home by curfew, no one there to set a curfew.
Sure, they came home every once in a while, for a few days, sometimes a few weeks at a time, but it wasn't the same. Troy's mother had, at first, considered staying home but she was too attached, too in love with Jack to bear being separated for such lengthy periods of time. They had wanted Troy to come with him, promised they'd get him a tutor...but he thought of it as a waste of time. He wanted the high school experience, he wanted the lame classes and he wanted to be with Gabriella, the only tie he had left to when things didn't suck epically. But things in Albuquerque always sucked, epically or not, but especially since Chad's death. The demons and the ghosts had taken to the house, to the city, to the school and they haunted Troy every time he turned a corner.
It was his prison.
School was, quite frankly, an even worse prison than his home. He had racked up quite the reputation his junior year, talking back to teachers and skipping classes. It wasn't as if he was a bad student—he still managed Bs and Cs—just that he hated it there. He hated the teachers, he hated the food and any chance he could muster to get out of there, he would take. Principal Matsui, however, didn't appreciate seeing Troy in his office for his biweekly visit and had informed him that he was currently one suspension away from being expelled. Well, that was lame, but somehow, he still allowed Troy to be on the basketball team, so Troy wasn't taking his threat very seriously.
He did stop mimicking Ms. Thompson behind her back, though. Just in case.
The only thing that didn't make him want to throw himself out the second story during third period biology was Gabriella. Gabriella Montez.
Gabriella had been Troy's best friend for as long as he could remember. She was a crucial part of the team he and Chad had created, the friends forming quite the inseparable trio. Of the few memories he had before the age of four, Gabriella was in all of them. Every other monumental occasion in his life since then, she had been present and over the last year, Troy had been forever grateful to have her by his side. She was there in the accident as well, had shattered her wrist and gotten a concussion. If there was anyone in the world who could understand what he was going through, it was Gabriella. She was funny and witty and probably the kindest person he knew, always offering her shoulder for him to lean on. She was also smart, smart to the point where he would have considered it obnoxious had she not been lenient enough to let him copy her math problems every once in a while.
Yes, Gabriella had been Troy's saving grace. Up until recently.
"Wow!" a male voice said from behind Troy later that morning. He let out a low whistle before continuing. "Would you check out the stems on Montez! God, she's a hottie!"
"What I would kill to bang that!" another voice said and Troy gripped the sides of the table angrily. That was his best friend they were talking about!
Gabriella flounced into the room, her long dark hair straightened and falling down her back. She was dressed in a violet wool skirt that hit mid-thigh, a form-fitting mustard yellow v-neck sweater and black thigh-high socks. She smiled brightly when she saw Troy and waved excitedly, oblivious to the stares and dropped jaws as she passed the rest of the male population of the class.
"Troy!" she said happily, sliding into the desk beside him, "good morning!"
He turned to her slowly, folding his arms over his chest and looked her up and down. He felt his cheeks grow hot at the sight of the bare skin between her skirt and socks. What the fuck was she wearing? Did she not realize the kind of attention she was getting? Did it not bother her?
"Good morning," he said, averting his eyes. Seriously, what was she wearing?
She tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and smiled at him sweetly. "I made the best breakfast this morning, Troy, you would have been so impressed." Gabriella, for all of her talents, was a terrible cook and had recently been trying very hard at improving her skills. Despite what she was telling him about the positive result of her morning meal, he somehow doubted it.
"Oh, really?" he asked, feeling his face flush as he glanced at her again. God, there was her cleavage! Oh, and look, leg!
"Yeah, I made waffles with strawberries and..." she paused, noticing the odd expression he was wearing. "Are you okay?"
Oh, to hell with it. "Gabriella" he said stiffly, his eyes trying to focus on her face. God, she was like his sister, what was she doing?! "What are you wearing?"
Gabriella's face fell and Troy instantly felt bad. "What are you talking about?"
"Your little ensemble," Troy continued, though he knew he should stop. "What the hell is up with it?"
"What's wrong with my outfit?" Gabriella asked slowly, her face not bellying her confusion. "I think it's cute."
"Cute?" Troy said, astounded. "Cute? Are you crazy? Gabriella, this is so not you."
"I was trying something different," she said defensively. "Besides, I thought you said I looked nice in yellow. You said so at my barbeque last week."
Troy rolled his eyes. God, sometimes it was hard being best friends with a girl. "I only said you looked nice," he explained, "not that you looked nice in yellow. And besides, you did look nice that day. This morning, however..."
"Are you saying I don't look nice?" she hissed, "is that what you're getting at?"
"N-no!" Troy stammered, before shaking his head. "I mean, yes! You are dressed far too revealing for a girl of your age!"
"What are you even talking about?" Gabriella demanded, turning around her seat so she was facing the front of the room. "That dress I was wearing was shorter than this skirt! And I'm older than you!"
"Yes, but only I was around to see it!" he felt the words tumble from his mouth and Gabriella's head shot over to him. Shit, that was wrong, he needed to reiterate. "I am like your brother, I don't care if I see you like that. These guys, however..."
"What about these guys?" she asked, gesturing around to the people in the classroom. "No one has said anything."
At this, Troy laughed. "Gabriella! Fuck, every single male in this class is undressing you with his eyes."
Gabriella crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously, her face turning a light pink shade. "Every male?" she questioned quietly.
"Yes!" he said, feeling annoyed that she wasn't getting it. "Well, except for me of course, but everyone else! They can't—"
He noticed that Gabriella had grown quiet and he instantly felt guilty. He saw the embarrassed flush on her cheeks and her eyes were glassy. His heart fell to his stomach however, when he saw that she was biting her lip and that her chin was trembling. Shit, she was trying not to cry. Shit, he had made her cry.
"Brie," he said, using the pet name he had given her as children, hoping it would prove that he was just looking out of her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"Give me your sweater," she said hurriedly, not turning to look at him. "Please."
Troy blinked. "My sweater? What's that going to do? It's not going to make your skirt longer."
"It'll cover up mine at least," Gabriella hissed, glaring as her cheeks grew hotter by the second. "It has your number on the back so that will at least stop the staring. I don't want them staring! You've made me feel self-conscious."
"What, Gabriella," Troy frowned. "Why would you wear something like that if you didn't want people looking?"
"I said I didn't want them staring," she said, pointedly, growing slightly frantic. "I wore it for—" she slapped a hand over her mouth, "oh, nevermind!"
"Them? Are you saying that you wanted someone to stare at you?" his words came out in a rush, his own cheeks flushing at the insinuation that she was hoping someone would ogle her exposed legs. "Who? Who is it Gabi?"
"Maybe!" she said sternly, "but he's an idiot who is completely oblivious to everything I do, apparently!"
"Then he's not worth your time!" Troy spit, "why would you even bother to feel the need to dress up for some guy?"
Gabriella sighed loudly, her eyes big and watery. "Forget it! I can't explain it to you, you're the thickest person I know. Give me your sweater now. It's the least that you can do since you've ruined my morning."
Unzipping his red Wildcat hoodie, Troy furrowed his brows, feeling infinitely bad. "I didn't mean to ruin your morning," he said softly, "I just was looking out for you."
"Yeah, well, you did," she said, holding her hand out. He extended the sweater to her and she grabbed it, slipping her arms in the sleeves. "You know, I was feeling really good about myself this morning, really excited about this outfit and as usual, you ended up making me feel like crap."
"You know, sometimes I wonder why I'm even best friends with a guy," she said, pulling her binder out of her tote bag, "you never understand things like this and the worst part is that you should! You're completely frustrating!"
Troy gaped. "I'm completely frustrating? Are you kidding me? What about you?" Gabriella scoffed and he continued. "What is with you lately? You're dressing all...all girlie! And wearing make-up!"
Gabriella turned to him then and he saw the angry fire in her eyes. Oh shit, why couldn't he learn to shut up?
"I should be allowed to dress however I please for whomever I please, Troy!" she said angrily, her fists clenched and her eyes shimmering.
"Sorry that I'm just alerting you that every guy in this room now wants to fuck you," Troy said diplomatically, folding his arms. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and watched her crumple.
"Fuck you," she whispered, before turning to the front of the class. Troy frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but just then, their homeroom teacher, Ms. Darbus entered, and he was silenced.
"Good morning, class!" she said brightly, and began quickly listing her announcements for the morning. Math peer tutoring was canceled, band practice had been moved to Wednesday, the cafeteria was serving pizza and there was going to be a school dance at the end of the month. She yammered on endlessly, using her hands and dramatic words and Troy had to bit on his tongue to stop from making a snide retort. He glanced at Gabriella, who was still sitting in her desk with her head bowed and he felt his heart clench.
Damn, he was a shitty friend.
As the bell rang, signaling the start of second period, Gabriella bounced out of her desk faster than he expected and he found himself jogging to catch up with her.
"Gabriella!" he called, racing after her. She quickened her pace and he rolled his eyes, barreling forward and lacing his hands around her waist, throwing his weight on her and sending her to the ground.
"Ummph!" Gabriella groaned, feeling the wind knock out of her. "What the hell?"
"I had no choice!" Troy said, helping her up and brushing himself off. "You wouldn't have stopped!"
"You didn't need to tackle me, you asshole!" she croaked, still trying to catch her breath. "You knocked the wind out of me!"
"Oh!" Troy said sheepishly, rubbing her arm soothingly. "I didn't mean to, I just—"
"You just what?" Gabriella asked, her breathing now more even. She pulled his hoodie tighter around her shoulders. "What?"
"I just wanted to apologize," he said slowly, "I was being an ass. You should wear what you want."
Gabriella raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Well," Troy rubbed the back of his neck. "Mostly everything. But nothing that lets other guys see you!"
"I'd argue with you about this further," Gabriella began, "but it's early and we'll just go around in circles. So," she held out her hand, "truce?"
"Truce," he answered with a grin, grabbing her hand with his and the two engaged in the secret handshake that they had spent three afternoons creating when they were nine. "Let me walk you to class?"
Gabriella smiled. "Sure! Why not?" she said brightly. "Hey, are you going to the dance?"
Falling into step with her, Troy furrowed his brows. "No, I wouldn't be caught dead at one of those things."
Beside him, Gabriella sighed and stopped walking. "I figured as much," she mumbled before running to catch up with him.
It should be noted that Gabriella wore his hoodie with his number on the back for the rest of the day. The lewd comments then ceased.
"Gabriella, it's alright, just go to sleep," Troy said into the phone hours upon hours later. There was a storm brewing outside, one loud and obnoxious, and Gabriella had always been afraid of them. Although she had refused to speak to him all day, even after he had given her a ride home, he still wasn't surprised when his phone rang with her ringtone shortly after ten o'clock.
"I can't help it, Troy," she whispered and he imagined her cuddled in her bed, her duvet wrapped around her. "It's scary." A clap of thunder echoed over the phone line and in his room and she squealed.
"Do you want me to come over?" he asked, sighing. Whenever there was a storm, Gabriella would call up Troy and he would bring her down from the near hysteric panic attack she would be having. Since she was usually home alone when they happened, he would sometimes walk over and spend the night with her so she could sleep.
"I don't know," she said softly, "it's really coming down out—OH!" she let out another squeak as another crack of thunder rattled through the air. "Seriously, I want you to come, but it's too violent out there."
Troy stood up from his bed as a bolt of lightning pierced through the sky, making his way over to the french doors that led outside. He pulled back his curtain and peered through the window into the backyard. "It really is storming pretty badly out there."
The wind was ripping through the trees, tossing them backwards and forwards, The sky was grey and purple, twirling and swirling, the clouds heavy with the weight of water. Lightning flashed and the clouds crashed and he could practically hear Gabriella shaking on the other end.
"Shit, are you sure you don't want me to come over?" he asked again, "it looks like it's going to be pretty bad."
"No, you'll get soaked," Gabriella said with a sigh. "Just talk to me till it passes."
"Okay," Troy said, still staring outside. Suddenly, he heart something hit the window. Looking closer, he realized it was a piece of ice.
Wait, not just a piece. A chunk. Several more followed, tapping on the glass and rattling the panes, pounding on every surface. Gabriella screamed on the other line. It was hailing and badly, the sound was so loud that Troy was even slightly frightened.
"What the fuck?" he exclaimed, backing away slightly.
"Troy come over now!" Gabriella yelped into the phone, "please, please, please! Oh my gosh, I think a window just broke in the kitchen!"
Troy raced away from the window as the hail pounded on it so hard he was sure it would break. It sounded like someone was dumping rocks over every single surface of his house. "Fuck, Brie, I am not coming over now, the hail will kill me. There are hugely massive chunks of ice out there!"
"But Troy!" she whimpered and he bit his lip, hearing the vulnerability and fright in her voice. "Seriously, something broke in the kitchen and I am scared to death. Please, please come, can't you drive?"
"Brie, there is no way in hell I am driving in this weather!" he said quickly, panicked and then he froze when he heard her start to cry. She was sniffling quietly, in that way that he knew she was trying to make it so he couldn't hear.
"Brie, it's okay, it's just a storm," he said gently, hoping she would calm down. The sound of thunder and wind roared through the night and he heard her sniffle loudly.
"I can't h-help it," she whispered, sniffing again. "It's just so scary here all by myself! This house is huge and so dark and everything is so loud!"
Unlike Troy, whose parents had been present during his childhood but had just decided to flake out during his adolescence, Gabriella's parents had always been missing in action. Her father had died when she was four and since then, her mother was constantly working, trying to fill the void that had been created when her husband left. Many a night did Gabriella spend with Troy and his family, and for the most part, she handled it well. She was fiercely independent because of it and one of the strongest people Troy knew. But everyone now and then, when there was a storm or a holiday, she got a little quiet and he remembered how lonely she really could be.
"It's okay, Brie, I'm here," he said, sliding down to the floor by his bed. "I'll stay on the phone with you until the storm dies out, okay?"
She paused, her crying ceasing momentarily. "You promise?" she asked quietly.
"I promise," he answered, "now why don't we sing a song or something?"
Gabriella giggled and Troy smiled at the sound. "Are you serious?"
"Oh come on, Brie," he said, annoyed, "you love singing. What's that movie, the one where the lady sings that song to the kids when it rains?"
"Sound of Music," Gabriella said scoffing, "you know that very well, we watch it every Christmas. You know all the words."
"Good! It can be a duet, then!" Troy said cheekily. "You start."
On the other line, Gabriella took a deep breath before he heard her quietly murmur the opening lines of the song. "Raindrops on roses, whiskers on kittens, white copper kettles and warm woolen mittens, brown paper packages tied up with strings..."
"These are a few of my favourite things," Troy joined in, allowing his voice and the familiar lyrics to lull her to a calm as the rain carried on outside. It pounded on every surface miserably, angrily.
But in their own little bubble, in that moment, Troy and Gabriella didn't feel so bad.
Troy awoke on the floor the next morning, his head feeling heavy and his back sore. His phone was still pressed underneath this cheek and it felt hot to the touch. Lifting his head slowly, he peeled it off his cheek and rubbed the skin, feeling the indent of the buttons. He groaned and noticed that Gabriella was still on the other line, and that his battery was nearly dead.
"Brie?" he asked groggily, sitting up. He was met with the sounds of her soft breathing and he let out a sigh, pleased that she was asleep. Flipping his phone shut, he rose and walked over to the doors on the other side of the room.
That was some storm, he thought, one of the scariest ones he had ever seen. Glancing into the backyard he saw that it was in shambles and groaned. Wonderful, he thought, mother nature decided to rip apart his backyard when his parents were out of town, brilliant.
Opening the door to the backyard, he stepped out and surveyed the damage. There were leaves and sticks everywhere and one of the branches of his tree had cracked and fallen. The patio furniture had been flipped and the umbrella had been thrown against the fence, cracking several boards in the process. The umbrella itself was a tangled, broken mess, pieces of metal and wire hanging and sticking out in every which way. Running a hand through his hair, Troy was debating whether it was worth cleaning up or leaving it for his parents, when his eyes fell on his treehouse.
The treehouse had been Troy's place. He and his dad had build it when Troy was young and when basketball hadn't been their whole world. They had spent two whole weeks one summer constructing it from the ground up and it remained to be one of Troy's favourite memories. Everything important had happened to him in the treehouse. It was where he and Chad had become blood brothers, where he and Gabriella shared their first kiss with each other when they were ten out of pure curiosity. The three of them had been a pirates up there, adventurers, superheroes. That was their childhood, it was all Troy had left. It was the only thing he had to remind him of the days when Gabriella wasn't wearing short skirts and Chad was...well, Chad was alive.
He looked up at the treehouse with a pounding heart. The entire roof had seem to have collapsed! He blanched, feeling dizzy. Fucking weather! It had to victimize his poor, defenseless treehouse! What an asshole! He could still remember pricking his finger to draw blood, still remembered the soft feel of Gabriella's lips and the awkward peck they had shared. Still remember his mom calling him down and bringing him cookies back when everything was right.
Who hated him this much?
With that he bounded against the pavement and rushed across the grass to the tree, climbing the makeshift latter in quick strides. Oh god, oh god, it was totaled. His life was over.
Slipping through the hole that led him into the treehouse, Troy pulled himself up with his arms and glanced around the small space. There were sharp pieces of wood and leaves everywhere, branches sticking out over here and shingles over there. He felt his heart drop. His place was ruined, his childhood flying out the fucking window.
Then he heard a whimper and he instantly stiffened. What was that? Was it an animal? Was there a dead squirrel in his treehouse? Or a bird? Or something? Oh god, please don't be a dead animal. Then he'd have to touch it or call animal control and if he didn't Gabriella would bitch at him for animal cruelty and he really, really didn't need that. Turning around slowly, as if afraid of what he would find, his eyes settled on the source of the noise.
He suddenly really wished it were a squirrel.
Laying on her side was a girl. Not just any kind of girl, but a naked girl. She was tall with long, thin legs and thighs, her stomach so flat that her ribs and hip bones poked through her saran-wrap skin. Her breasts were small and round and her neck was long, leading up to a gorgeous face, her eyes fluttered closed and her eyebrows and mouth contorted in pain. Her hair was blonde and long, shimmering down her shoulders and over her collarbone. Troy coughed and staggered backwards.
What in the hell? Why was there a girl in his treehouse? Wait, why was there a naked girl in his treehouse? Oh what in the hell, was he high? Was he dreaming? He pinched his skin so hard he cracked through the skin and yelped. Nope, he was awake. But things like this only happened in his dreams, not in the real world. Oh, this was too weird.
The girl gave out another whimper and shuddered as she turned over so she was lying on her stomach. The sight of her backside made Troy gasp out loud.
It wasn't because of the dimples on her lower back, or the perfect proportions of her ass. It wasn't because her skin glimmered and looked like butter. It was because resting between her shoulder blades were two massive wings. Wings, the things meant for birds; long, white and feathered. They looked magnificent, intricate and soft and when she shifted slightly, they twitched and rose fluttered slightly.
There was a winged woman in his treehouse. Troy felt like he was going to throw up.
"Holy fuck," he said quietly before passing out a moment later.
Hello everyone! This my friends, is actually a story idea I've had for years and am so excited that I am finally executing! It's actually my first time ever writing high school age T&G, so this should be interesting. It's going to be ridiculous amounts of fun and after Stroke, I really, really need that.
Speaking of which, I will post the epilogue sometime this week. I've got three different endings in my head and can't decide on one. I am sorry!
As with Mamihlapinatapei, I am doing the soundtrack thing, so head on over to my livejournal to pick up this chapter's track! :)
Thanks for reading!