what if → Benny Rodriguez

23 | Jordyn

"i guess i'm the psychic one, then." i say in a sarcastically smug tone, and he shakes his head, chuckling. "i'm Jordyn."

"pleased to meet you, miss Jordyn." he holds out his hand for me and as i place my hand in his he kisses it softly. i can't help but giggle. what? i never giggle. "the name's Troy. Troy Bolton."

"what? no way." i scoff and take my hand away from his.

"no, really. it's just a coincidence. so many people have told me it's from this movie called high school musical, but i've never actually seen it." he shrugs.

"i'm not buying it." i shake my head with a smile.

"you will one day when your name is Jordyn Bolton." he says, "has a nice ring doesn't it."

did this boy really just-

"terrible." i laugh, "terrible ring. but, bold of you to assume i'll marry you one day."

"i can feel it." he lays all the way back now with his hands cushioning his head and staring up at the stars, feet still dangling down the slide. "i already told you i'm psychic."

"might not want to make a career out of it." i chuckle. i study him and his perfect features under the moonlight. i can't find a single flaw. i can't help but smile, foolishly.

"you might wanna take a picture." he says, not looking at me but still up at the sky "it'll last a lot longer."

"shut up." i lay down all the way next to him. we sit there for what feels like forever and talk about our life stories. i tell him about my family and how we had to constantly be moving. how my dad was there one day, and the next he wasn't. my past relationships good and bad. they're mostly bad.

Troy talks about his family and how they're not even his family. he's been a foster kid since his parents died in a car crash when he was 7. talks about his foster homes good and bad. mostly bad. says the one he's in now is probably the best yet and i smile for him. we probably talked for hours before i finally decided that i needed to go home. my phone had died and i didn't even know what time it was.

"i gotta go." i sit up.

"i don't. my foster family won't even notice i'm gone." i give him a look. "i said they're the best i've had yet, i didn't say they were perfect." he combs his fingers back through his hair.

"can we do this again sometime?" i ask.

"here." he takes my right hand in his left and grabs a sharpie from his back pocket. He bites down on the cap and takes the marker out then brings it to my hand and writes what i'm assuming is his phone number on it.

"anytime. and i'm going to help you." he sits up and grabs hold of my hand. "i promise you." we look into each other's eyes and i never want to look away.

"thank you." i whisper.

"first step." he takes my pack of cigarettes, "get rid of these."

"i don't know if we should jump into it that quickly." i reach for them but he pulls them away.

"you need to trust me." he says. "do you?"

i wait a few moments before responding. "yes." i breathe. i let go of his hand and walk down the slide. he stays up there.

"you really shouldn't." he smirks.

"what?"

"my last name isn't really Bolton." he sticks his tongue slightly out of his mouth to wet his lips. "i love high school musical."

"i knew it." i shake my head. "so what's your actual last name?"

"Picardi." he replies, i can tell it's sincere this time.