A/N: Sorry for the delay, I've had finals and end of the semester assignments to get through. Please let me know if you've enjoyed this chapter and story as a whole thus far! All feedback and comments are welcomed. Voting helps as well :)

MANNY'S BURGERS IS louder than usual, but that's because the whole team is here tonight. After hours of trying to solve our way through escape rooms, I learned two things: these dumbasses are the last people I would want to be stranded on an island with, and despite that, they're a super chill group and I enjoyed my time hanging out with them.

We've taken up half the booths and tables in the back area. When I decided to sit next to Ken, Darren, and Chris, I didn't expect to be caught in a heated discussion about a childhood movie series.

"No way was Troy Bolton making it pro. Dude wasn't even D1 potential if we're being honest." Ken argues with a raised voice and exaggerated hand movements.

"Troy was a legend on the court, stop playing. Man was straight fire." Darren's passion comes out in his loud tone just like Ken's.

"He was like 5'6, and shot mid-range jumpers out of a double team. If you recall-" Ken gets up in Darren's face, bobbing his head. "If you recall, in High School Musical 3 the team was one point down at the championship game, Troy had a wide layout, and decided to pass to a player who'd never even been off the bleachers to make the final shot. The only legend he'd be is a legendary bench warmer."

"You're just a hater." Darren sucks his teeth. "Troy had the skills, he had the swag, he had the girls, and he could hop off the court and sing a mean show tune. That's legendary."

"Of course you're up Troy's ass," Chris says, "he's basically you."

"I mean, do we have some similarities? I don't know, I wouldn't go as far as to compare him to me, but thank you for thinking that. I always had a feeling you thought I was sexy, talented, and cool."

"Oh suck my dick." Chris pushes Darren's shoulder, who leans into him and makes a kissing face.

Chris's expression causes me to laugh, because it's exactly how I react to Darren on a daily basis. He's like that festering little brother you want to strangle sometimes, but you also know you would do anything for him.

Coming to Pennwood freshman year and having to acclimate myself to my new surrounding, team, and sobriety was harder than I could imagine. I don't know how much more difficult it would be without this 6'4 smiling goofball who insisted on pushing his way into my life without question or judgement. Today, these guys are all my brothers, but Darren will always hold the title of my favorite.

"So it's two to one." Darren looks over at me. "What's your verdict, Carter? If Troy Bolton was a real player, would he go D1 and make it to the leagues?"

I take a sip of my Coke, feeling like I've been abruptly woken from a nap. "He wouldn't make it," I say, feeling like I'm not properly equipped for the question.

I watched High School Musical reruns lying next to my sick mother who didn't have the energy to do anything else. The entire ordeal is a blur to me.

Ken smacks my chest and cheers a celebratory growl with Chris. The smack almost causes me to choke on the drink going down my pipes but I'm able to swallow it after one cough.

I've come to realize Ken is just a naturally aggressive person. Whether he likes you or not, one way or another, you're going to end up getting smacked by him at some point.

"Whatever." Darren brushes us off. "All I know is I'm searching for my Gabriella."

Chris snorts. "You're not ready for a Gabriella. You've gotta put your big boy pants on for a type of girl like that."

"If Carter's ready for a Gabriella, then so am I," Darren says.

"Hey, what do I have to do with this?" I sit up, feeling like I finally have stakes in this conversation. Any alluding or mention of Summer causes that effect.

"You went and got yourself some elite mocha latte,"Ken says.

"Don't call her that." I send him a death glare before I can control myself. I realize the flash of anger I've started to harbor, so I take a breath to get myself together.

I'm not angry at Ken, I just don't like his slimy tone when I hear him speak about girls sometimes and I don't want it put towards Summer.

"You see how defensive he gets?" Darren looks amused and slightly shocked at my changed demeanor. "Since we were freshmen, I've seen dozens of girls trying to get his attention and he wouldn't even look their way, now all of a sudden he's ready to drop kick you over a girl he met two months ago. She's definitely a Gabriella."

I take a sip of my drink and smile just to alleviate whatever tension I may have arose. "She is."

The guys cheer even more and I'm thankful it's drowned out by the overwhelming loudness of everyone else around us.

When Darren badgers me to repeat the story of asking Summer out, more cheering and cringe ensues.

"You really ran across campus sweating and breathing like a madman, plucked some flowers from a random bush and gave it to her with the dirt and worms still attached and she still said yes? Thank god we're basketball players," Chris says.

"I'm definitely gonna have to make it up to her for our date tomorrow," I say.

After I went back to my class I found myself embarrassed about what was clearly a rushed execution. I couldn't help it, after psyching myself out of asking so many times, I knew I had go for it the second I had an ounce of courage, and that happened to be the time it came.

I don't know the first thing about romancing a girl, I'm gonna need some patience while I try to figure this new world out.

"Tomorrow? As in tomorrow when we have mandatory bootcamp?" Darren asks.

"We finish at 6 the latest. I should have more than enough time to get home and prepare. The date is at 8," I say.

Everyone at my table begins to look weary.

"I don't know man, coach is still mad about the fight at St. Joseph's. You know he'll be extra hard on us. Plus he's been running training overtime all season. You may be cutting it close," Ken says.

I go quiet and try to think the logistics through. The date has to be tomorrow, it's the only time both of us can squeeze in before spring break.

6am-6pm, that's the longest coach usually holds us for a bootcamp session. I'm all about the intense exercise and training we get out of bootcamp, where we're bussed over to a top of the line training center in Pittsburgh for 12 uninterrupted hours. I've been looking forward to it, it's just that I've been looking forward to this date as well and I don't quite know how to deal with juggling a proper romantic and professional life.

"I'll figure it out. It's gonna work out." I speak to myself more than to the guys.

When I get back home that night, I attempt to call Sam but reach her voicemail instead. She's been on and off with me lately. We've gone from talking daily to once every few days if I'm lucky. She's going through a lot I know, but I figured that would make her want to lean more on me than usual. That's how its always been with us.

I'll need to check up on her in person soon, especially before I go back home next week. I don't like this stream of silence between us, and Jake's birthday is in a few days so I need to drop his gift off anyways.

I call Summer afterwards and she picks up within a few rings.

"Are you allowed to call the night before a first date, isn't that bad luck or something?" She sounds like she's in a good mood with her light tone.

"I don't know, is it?" I question, genuinely confused.

"No." She laughs, "Even if it was I'd risk it just to hear your voice. Tell me about your day, how did the escape room fiasco go?"

As I tell her about my day, I can't stop thinking about how happy she makes me. it's crazy to feel this way about someone. I'm starting to understand why relationships are such a big deal to everyone. When you meet that right person, everything is better.

Before we hang up I give her a heads up about bootcamp, which I didn't think I needed to do before until the guys brought up the possible time discrepancy. Summer and I agreed that she'll catch an uber to Bercelli's, a nice italian restaurant I found a few miles off the 202, so we can make sure we don't lose our reservations. I might be a few minutes late at most, so this is just a precaution.

***

The next day when we get to the training facility and turn in our phones and watches, I can already tell by the smirk on coaches face that he's going to work us to the bone.

Bootcamp isn't just about physical workouts and drills, we also spend a considerable time going through archives of iconic games and players. Coach likes to wheel out this old school heavy-set TV that still has antennas and a grainy interface. He then grabs his booklet of DVD's like it's 1995 and carefully selects the games he wants us to analyze. We study these games and try to ingrain every amazing move into our brains, from Michael Jordan and Scotty Pippen with the Bulls, to Lebron James and Dwayne Wade with the Heats.

Despite this, there's no denying most of the focus is on physical activities, and coach especially wanted to start out with a bang when our first set included a hundred jumping jacks, a hundred push ups, and a hundred crunches.

The next few hours breeze by, at least I think it's been a few hours. Coach doesn't like to have us distracted by any technology except for the TV, so he pulls the clocks off the walls too. He says it doesn't matter what time it is outside, all our focus should be what's going on in here, and we'll get to see the outside world only when he thinks we're primed and ready.

It seems excessive but he is giving us the entire week of spring break to rest.

I'm only able to somewhat gouge the time when it visibly gets dark outside. I'm fine at first, until coach continues to lead us through drills from sunset to pitch darkness. After a while I guess it's 5pm, and after another while I guess it's around 6-6:30 at most.

When we're dismissed for another break instead of being dismissed for the day, my nerves start to rile.

Darren throws me a bottle of water and we slump against the gym floor.

"He's for sure going overtime today," he says to my annoyance.

"He is, isn't he." I run a hand through my hair and bite down on my lips to keep myself calm.

"You sure you're gonna make that date?"

I sigh, "I don't think he'll go that much overtime."

Darren shrugs and when we're called back to our laps and drills, my energy is split between free throws and catching glimpse outside the high windows. I make my shot into the net, then pass the ball to Darren, who's the next person in line.

"You wanna tell him about your plans and see if he'll wrap this whole thing up finally?" Darren says as he steady's his feet and prepares for his shot.

"No way."

I care about Summer and our date, but I also care about my team and I need to be all in on our practices. I can't let myself start to stray and lose momentum for anything, and besides, coach wouldn't accept my date as an excuse to cut any practice short. I just have to pray it's not as late as it looks, and I don't leave Summer stranded at the restaurant. It would kill me to have her think I'm standing her up.

When coach finally calls an end to practice ages later and hands us our phones back, I struggle to get mines back on before I settle with the fact that it's dead. I should've remembered to charge it last night.

"Chris, what time is it?" I hurriedly ask as we board the bus.

"It's ten after nine," he says.

"Crap."

"Just call her and apologize, I'm sure she'll understand." Darren takes a seat next to me, patting my shoulder.

"My phone is dead and that doesn't change the fact that our date is ruined. By the time we get back the restaurant will be closed."

They look at me sympathetically, which I hate, but at the end of the day not much can be done. Darren has contacted Summer's roommate and she hasn't responded, no one has a portable charger with them, and I can't use anyone's phone to call her because I don't yet have her number memorized.

The hour long drive back to campus is agonizing. I bounce my foot, unable to stop imagining Summer's look of disappointment as she sits alone at the restaurant awaiting my arrival. How long has she sat and waited? Is she still there? Did she relent and order food, or did she munch on the bread and water before giving up on the idea of me showing up?

I can image her sending me strings of messages and phone calls, hoping to at least hear from me and her disappointed has probably gotten greater at the thought of me not even bothering to respond.

Shit, shit, shit. She's gonna hate me. Maybe not hate, Summer doesn't seem like the type, but she'll be disappointed enough to give up on the idea of me—of us. This whole thing is still a trial run. We're both sacrificing a lot to give this a go, so I won't be surprised if she ends up deciding it's not worth her time. If there's one thing I've learned about Summer it's that she values her time and here I am wasting it away. She might not hate me, but she just might resent me.

These thoughts simmer with me from my exit off the bus to arrival back to my room. I unlock my door and drop my duffle bag, immediately rushing to connect my phone to the charger.

Just as it lights back on, I get a knock on my door.

Darren, Chris, and Ken stand before and the stupid grin they've all decided to sport almost causes me to shut the door right in their faces.

"What do you guys want? I'm trying to call Summer."

I know they're aware of how annoyed I've been, they spent half of the ride home gawking at me for it.

Darren pushes the door to widen it and they all decide to invite themselves in. At this point, I don't even the energy to care so I just go back to my bed and check my phone.

Five missed calls and five unanswered messages. Crap.

Summer: Just got to the restaurant, I'm seated right by the window next to renaissance portrait. Can't wait to see you :)

Summer: Bootcamp running a little later I guess?

Summer: When do you think you'll get off, I'm getting a little hungry?

Summer: ???

Summer: It was getting late, I just decided to leave. We can talk another time I guess.

My stomach drops at the last message. She's surely lost interest in me, I can just feel it.

"What did she say?" Darren takes a seat next to me and grabs my phone, going through the messages.

"I'm screwed." I fall back on the sheets.

"Well it's a good thing you have us?" Chris says, spinning himself on my swivel chair.

"Why? So you guys can drive me even more crazy?"

"No, dickhead. So we can help you out," Ken says.

"How are you guys gonna help me?"

Darren starts poking and pinching me until I sit back up."With my fuzzy, newly cleaned blanket, Ken's half eaten lasagna, and Chris's weird collection of Bath and Body Works Candles." He crosses his arms over his chest resolutely.

Chris's head snaps to Darren and he gives him an offended look. "Well excuse me, can't a man enjoy some candles? They smell nice, they have a calming effect, and they create a great ambiance. There is not a single situation that can't be amplified with some candles, I'm not apologising for that."

"What?" I begin to regret not slamming my door in their faces when I had the chance.

Okay, I don't regret it. Having them here isn't so bad, but they're still annoying nonetheless.

"What we're trying to say is that we've got this all figured out for you. Don't worry about Summer, you can explain yourself soon enough. Go get yourself cleaned up, put on something nice, and make your way to the stadium in half an hour," Ken says.

"You talked to Summer? How? What are you guys doing?" I stand up trying to search for answers.

When I reach for my phone Darren smacks it out of my hand and scoops it up, holding it over his head, like I'm not an inch taller than him and my arms aren't longer.

"Go clean up." He points towards my bathroom. "We've got your back, Carter."

I let out a breath and look towards each one of them before making my way to my bathroom. If they have it figured out, they have it figured out. I trust them, I really do. So now all that's left for me to do is get ready.