AN: This is a new story I'm working on. I swear I was working on How the Fire Burns and this idea popped into my head. It kept bugging me and the chapter I was working on wasn't turning out well. But I swear on my life I'll have a new chapter of How The Fire Burns tomorrow. And A Better Look will be out the day after for those of you that read that story.
SUMMARY: Jimmie "The Rocket" Zara has always been hyperactive. Troy Bolton and the rest of the Wildcats know that. What happens when he's gone for three days? When he comes back he's not the same. What will the Wildcats do to get to the bottom of his change? Different, darker, more dramatic plot to HSM3. JimmiexOC [WARNING: Graphic abuse, cutting and language.] don't like don't read.
Disclaimer: I would love to say that I own Jimmie The Rocket. But sadly I don't :[ I own nothing but the plot and my OC's.
Chapter One: Absence And A Change
"Hey Troy!" I heard someone call. I was talking to Gabriella, she stopped so I could look around. Donny Dion stopped in front of us.
"What's up Donny?" I sighed.
"Have you seen Rocketman? He wasn't here yesterday and I haven't seen him at all today." he said. I guess he was trying to mask his worry but some leaked through in his voice.
"I haven't seen him." I answered.
"It's so weird. He never misses school. He loves basketball. He wouldn't miss practice." Donny rambled.
"Well, maybe he's sick or something. I'm sure he'll be back by Thursday at the latest." Gabriella reasoned. Always the optimistic one.
"Yeah I guess. Well... see you at lunch guys." and with that he ran off.
"Hmm..." Gabriella said.
"Well it is weird. Rocketman never misses school."
"Well you said it yourself. Maybe he's sick." I replied.
"TROY!" Chad yelled.
"Dude! I'm right here!" I said.
"Have you seen the board?" he asked, sounding pretty pissed.
Gabriella and I looked at each other ten back at Chad. "No." she said. We walked over to the board. I heard Gabriella gasp.
"WHAT?" I screeched. "Dad? What do you mean tryouts for basketball? We have our team already. Who got cut?"
"No one got cut. Mr. Zara called and said that Jimmie will no longer participate." he explained.
"What? So Rocketman's not on the team anymore?" Gabriella asked incredulously.
"No Gabriella. He's not." he sighed and walked away.
No one could believe that Rocketman quit. At least, no one wanted to believe it.
~~~~~~~~~~ TWO DAYS LATER ~~~~~~~~~~
I was standing at my locker with Gabriella, Zeke, Chad, Taylor, Martha, and Kelsi. We were talking about the tryouts later that day. I still couldn't wrap my head around it.
"Rocketman's back." Taylor said. We followed her gaze. I saw him walking towards his locker [which was 3 away from mine.] He was wearing his beanie, a black sweater over a "THE KILLERS" concert tee, with some skater jeans worn loose. He was paler than usual and he had dark bags under his eyes like he hasn't gotten much sleep. He opened his locker and looked slightly pained as he took his backpack off and put it in his locker. He took out the books he needed and put a pencil in his pants pocket. He closed his locker and walked away.
"That was weird." Chad said. "Usually he's bouncing off the walls with Donny. Or obsessing over Troy."
"I wonder if he's okay." Martha said.
Lunch was strange. Rocketman sat alone. Donny walked over to our table.
"Yo, Donny? What's up with Rocketman?" Zeke asked.
"Man I don't know. He hasn't talked to me or anyone really." he sighed.
"Well he's probably got a lot on his mind." Chad reasoned. We looked over and Jimmie was picking at his food. I saw Gabriella, Taylor, Martha, and Kelsi walked towards him and sit down.
We sat down with Rocketman and it was like we weren't there.
"So why weren't you here?" Taylor asked. He stayed quiet.
"Were you sick?" Kelsi asked. He nodded.
"Why didn't you say hi this morning?" Martha asked, hoping to a reaction out of him. He just shrugged. I was getting tired of him not saying anything, so I brought up a subject I knew he would react to.
"So heard your dad called and removed you from the team." I said. That got a reaction. His head snapped up, I choked back a gasp. His eyes that were once filled with happiness and mischief were now hard and cold. Lifeless. I knew I wasn't the only one who saw it.
" He what?" he said venomously.
"You mean you didn't know?" I was immediately sorry for bringing it up.
"No." he said. His fist clenched and he looked ready to hit something.
"I'm sorry Rocketman." I said, resting my hand on his forearm in a comforting way. He hissed in pain before clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. He yanked his arm out from underneath my hand and got up.
"I have to go." he said before walking away, leaving his untouched food on the table.
"What was that about?" Taylor asked.
"I-I don't k-know." I stuttered.
"He looked kind of scary." Martha said.
"I'm gonna follow him" I said, getting up. I walked in the direction that he was heading. I saw Troy and motioned for him to come with me. We followed quietly behind him. He walked all the way up to Troy's and my hiding spot. He walked to the edge over looking the school. What he did next surprised even Troy.
I know it was rude to just walk away like that. I just, really don't want to talk to anyone. Ever. How can he do this to me? Basketball was my only escape. I could put all my anger into the ball. That's why I was so good.
Actually, now that I think about it, it didn't surprise me. It pissed me off. My 'father' was a heartless bastard. God how I hated that man. Mom left him Sunday night and guess who he took his anger out on. You guessed it. Me. I could barely move for three days. My body still aches with every breath. The lightest touch hurts like a bitch.
I walked to the schools roof. Once I was there, I walked to the edge and looked up to the sky.
"You really hate me don't you?" I asked rather loudly. When I got no response I looked down and shook my head. I had brought my backpack with me. I opened the smallest pocket and pulled out a razor. I looked at it for a second before I rolled up my sleeve. The scars from Monday were still there, as were the bruises that were still healing. I looked for an unmarked space. When I found one I put the cool blades against my skin. Once I saw some blood I glided it across my wrist. I removed the blades and watched the blood flow from the four perfect lines. As I watched the red liquid trickle down my hand, past my fingers and drip to the cemented ground, I smiled at the feeling. It stung but it took my mind off of everything that's happened. It's like a drug that I'm addicted to. I can't - I won't stop.
Suddenly, I heard a plant pot break behind me. I turned and came face-to-face with Troy and Gabriella.
"Shit." was all I said before I turned and started digging through the small pocket again. I found a tissue and wiped off the blade before I put it back in the pocket. Then I wiped off my hand and pressed the tissue to the four lines gently. I looked for a bandage in my backpack. When I found one, I opened it and put it on. The pressure hurt but I've been through worse. I zipped up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, grimacing slightly at the pain that caused.
I started walking away. I tried walking past them but Troy stopped me by putting a hand on my chest. I hissed slightly as that one movement sent a painful jolt through my entire body.
"Move Troy." I said through clenched teeth.
"What the hell Rocketman? First your gone for three days and then your off the team and now this?" He practically yelled.
I was starting to get mad. I really wanted to just leave. I knew what I was gonna say was messed, but I needed to leave.
"What do you care Bolton?" I asked in the same tone he did. "I figure you'd be happy that I wasn't here "obsessing" over you." I used air quotes.
"W-what?" he asked, wide-eyed.
"Don't play dumb. I may have been hyper and quirky but I sure as hell am not stupid. The way you act when I'm around? How you avoid me? You think I don't notice? Well you know what Bolton? I'm sorry I ever idolized you." I spat. With that being said, I pushed past him and practically ran to the bathroom.
My body was aching when I locked myself in the bathroom. I could barely breathe. I waited until my breathing became regular. I looked in the mirror and was ashamed of the person staring back at me. He had dark circles under his cold, dead eyes. His skin was an unhealthy pale color and his lips were red and chapped. I sighed and pulled out the razor. I looked at my reflection once more before I rolled up my sleeve. It's my drug. I can't...won't stop.
AN: I know...I have issues. Anywho... reviews are love! Be honest. Do you think I should keep going with this one?