Last

by left-to-leave

Senior year has come and gone; graduation day forces everyone to reflect on the past, present, and future.

Title: Last
Rating: Eh, we'll say PG to be safe
Pairings/Characters: Ensemble
Summary: Senior year has come and gone; graduation day forces everyone to reflect on the past, present, and future.
Author's Notes: Constructive criticism is encouraged and very much appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own any High School Musical characters and I am not making any profit from this work of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

; Sharpay.

Gabriella flounced up to Sharpay's locker. "Need any help?"

"No, I got it." Sharpay kept her back turned, peeling another photo from the back of her locker and adding it to her purse with the rest of her belongings.

"Okay, then." Gabriella lingered for a second or two. She shuffled her feet and sighed, loudly.

"What?" Sharpay asked flatly, whirling around to face her long-time opponent.

"Listen, Sharpay," Gabriella began. "I know we didn't get off to a great start here at East High" -- Sharpay scoffed; that was the understatement of the century -- "but I just wanted you to know that I've always kind of looked up to you. You always just go for what you want, no questions asked, no regrets. I wish I could be more like you. Except for the whole mean part."

Does this have a point? Sharpay thought impatiently. She wasted no time in voicing her question.

"Is there a point to this?"

Gabriella's optimistic expression faltered, almost imperceptibly. "No. I'm just saying goodbye." She looked down at her hands, then back at Sharpay. "I'll see you at the ceremony, right?"

Sharpay muttered, "Yeah, probably."

Still Gabriella wouldn't leave.

Sharpay snarled inwardly. "Look, you've said your little goodbyes, and they're appreciated. I'm really busy here, so if you could kind of give me some space, that would be great," she snapped.

Normally, she would have used her acting prowess to pretend she even remotely cared, but not today.

Today was different. Today was the end of everything she'd ever known, today was the jump-off point for the future. Today she wanted to wallow in self-pity and agonize over the last time she would open her locker, the last time she would step foot in her math class, the last time she would glide through East High's hallways, turning heads. Today she wanted to be alone and feel sorry for herself and snap at everyone and push them away so it wouldn't hurt as much in the coming years to realize she would never see them again. She would regret living her last day of high school in this manner, she was sure. Today, though... it just made leaving more bearable.

; Gabriella.

The morning started out like any other. Her alarm clock buzzed. She hit snooze. It buzzed again. She got up.

She made a beeline for her closet and chose her outfit. She brushed her teeth in rapid little circles. She brushed through her thick, dark hair. She applied her make-up carefully, almost painstakingly.

She went downstairs to a big breakfast her mother had made. Her father sat across the table, the newspaper in hand. Her little sister yawned, barely awake, turning in her chair to catch glimpses of her favorite cartoon on TV in the living room.

It felt like any other day.

But today was not just any other day. Today, she would take her first steps into the Real World, as she'd so often heard it named. Today, she would make the transition from high school student to graduate.

A horn honked outside, and Gabriella peered out the window. Her boyfriend, Troy Bolton, pulled up next to the curb. Without really paying attention to what she was doing, Gabriella shoveled her bites of pancake into her mouth and took swigs of milk to hurriedly wash them down.

"Slow down, mi'ja," her father said from behind the Finance section.

She grunted in response as she swallowed her last strip of bacon. "Sorry." With a kiss on her father's forehead, a hug around her mother's middle, and a pat on her sister's head, Gabriella bounded out the door, ready to face the new day. The last day.

No, scratch that, she thought. The first day.

"Morning, beautiful," Troy grinned as she hopped into the passenger seat.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, but he gently took her chin in his hand and turned her head, kissing her. She loved when he did that.

"Stop," she giggled, pulling away gently. "My family can see."

He scoffed playfully. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"Of course not!" She kissed him again, a little bit longer than she intended.

They broke away, smiling.

"I love you," Troy said, rubbing her hand lightly.

"I love you, too," Gabriella replied, grinning.

In that moment, she felt as though she wouldn't need anything else, so long as she had him.

"Let's go," Troy whispered as the engine turned over.

; Troy.

It was the night before graduation day, and he couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts pounded against his skull, refusing to let him rest. He thought about college. He'd already decided where he was going. He made sure to stay close to wherever Gabriella would be. He thought about leaving home and leaving his parents behind with an empty nest. He thought about all the things he'd done the past few years. He'd tried new things. He'd fallen in love.

He did love Gabriella. He really did. She was his first love. She would always be his first love.

He just couldn't help himself sometimes.

He felt terrible. Guilt would consume him at night as he remembered the feel of another girl's lips against his.

But he couldn't stop what he'd started.

And he could never tell Gabriella the truth.

Never, he told himself.

Somehow, the guilt would fade with the moonlight. In the morning, his mind was nowhere near the topic. In the morning, he had a clean slate. Sort of.

He held Gabriella's hand tightly as they pushed open the double doors to their school. The last time they would ever do that. It was a bittersweet moment.

"Have a good class," he told her, kissing her cheek. They parted ways. Things were good.

Things were very good. He made it through homeroom, no sweat. He presented his final project in art class and earned a B . He took his Spanish final, with a good feeling that he'd passed.

He just had to make it through a few more classes and a lunch period. He was golden.

"Troy," he felt his name on the back of his neck. He turned around. It was her. His heart sunk, slightly. She was the last person he wanted to see, but somehow, his ill feelings wouldn't stick. The sunshine filtering in brilliantly through the windows melted everything away. He couldn't help but feel happy.

"Hi," he said, smiling in spite of himself.

They walked down the hallway together, just far enough apart from one another that anyone looking at them would assume they were just friends, having a friendly conversation on the way to class.

"How do you think you did on that Spanish final?" she asked, making small talk.

"It was pretty killer, but I'm pretty sure I passed."

"Yeah. Me, too."

They turned a corner, finding themselves alone. Inwardly, Troy cursed himself for not paying attention to the direction they were headed. This was where he most often found himself in trouble. It was one of the old hallways that no one used, lined with unassigned lockers left over from the 1970s that had yet to be renovated like the others. No one ever came down this hallway.

They slowed, and she took his hand in hers.

"Listen," she said, her lips shaping into that irresistible, pouty expression. She lightly backed him against the row of lockers, one hand on his chest. "My parents are going to be gone this weekend. You should come by."

His heart began to pound, No, no, no. But his mind and mouth disobeyed. One last time, he promised his heart. Don't worry. I'll end it.

"Definitely." And he pressed his lips against hers, prodding her mouth open with his tongue.

No one ever came down this hallway.

No one except for him and Kelsi.

; Chad.

"Can you believe it?" Taylor squealed. "We're almost graduates! We're practically adults!"

"Yeah," Chad agreed, being careful not to let his voice give him away.

"I'm so excited. I practiced my speech all day yesterday. I think I finally have it down perfectly."

"You had it down perfectly a week ago," he reminded her.

She continued, her arm linked in his, but Chad couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes wandered across the cafeteria. Troy and Gabriella walked in, hand in hand.

Chad's face flushed. Do they ever leave each other alone?

Troy looked up and caught his best friend's eye. He waved. Chad waved back, forcing a smile.

Taylor noticed her boyfriend's lack of participation. "Who --?" she began, following his eyes across the room. "Oh! Hey, Troy! Hi, Gabriella!" she called brightly. She turned back to Chad, going on and on about some topic he'd already forgotten.

It's not that he didn't like Taylor. She was cute. She was perky. She was intelligent.

And, really, it wasn't like Troy spent any time with him anymore. Ever since the summer with Sharpay and his almost-break-up with Gabriella, Troy clung to the girl with all his might. They were always together, or talking on the phone or texting if they had to be apart. Troy never had time for anyone else. At one point, he came close to resigning from the basketball team.

Chad missed his best friend.

He needed somebody to be around. He couldn't handle being alone all the time. And maybe if he had a girlfriend, he and "Troyella," as the basketball guys had nicknamed them, could double date. Maybe the group would come together again.

As it turned out, dating didn't really work like that.

He sighed, pausing his thoughts to look at the girl beside him.

If he were to be honest with himself, Chad had to admit it. He didn't really like Taylor all that much.

; Taylor

There were still so many things to do. Four finals down, lunch finished, three finals to go. Her brain worked overtime as she extracted random information that she was sure to need in the coming hours. She pulled herself tighter to Chad instinctively.

She had her speech burned into her brain, but that was no good if it meant she lost information that would be useful on her finals. What good was giving her Valedictorian speech if she flunked all her finals?

"I'm sure you'll do great," Chad had reassured her several times in the last month.

Somehow, she didn't believe him.

But, then again, it was Chad. It was hard to believe anything he said. He was a bad liar. She'd known within the first day they'd started dating.

She knew what she was to him: a replacement.

That didn't matter, at the time. At the time, all she wanted was a boyfriend to watch scary movies and fall asleep on the couch with. Whoops, that sentence ended with a preposition, she thought. She mentally corrected it. If she was going to pass this English exam, she had to be completely and totally in grammar-snob mode.

It was too late, now, though, to do very much about Chad. She didn't like being used, but what could she do? She hated being lonely. She liked Chad enough. He was funny at times, never too clingy, and not too bad on the eyes, either.

She didn't realize in the beginning how much she would come to depend on him, even if he was never really there.

; Ryan.

He had drama with Ms. Darbus (and his sister) for his last class of the day.

It was tough.

Ms. Darbus made a big deal over the two of them, babbling through her stream of tears how she'd never had such talented, bright pupils in her entire career. Her long ramble ended with a bone-crushing hug for each.

At long last, the final bell rang.

And it was over.

Ryan whistled as he cleaned out the last of his belongings from his locker. He waved goodbye to people as they called out his name. He enjoyed his last moments as a high school student.

He was moving out to New York in a month's time. He would double major in musical theatre and voice, and minor in dance. He would go out to auditions in his spare time. He would find a girlfriend. He would live happily ever after.

It was going to be perfect.

And if it wasn't... he wasn't sure what he would do. He would probably move back home and go to a junior college nearby. He would do community theater. He would slowly, but surely, crumple up inside as his sister and peers left him behind, went out and did great things.

But it would be okay, he told himself, shaking his head as if the thoughts would fly right out, because I'd still be doing something good. Performing, making people happy, in any capacity -- that can only be good.

He shut his locker and put on his favorite fedora.

; Ending.

They'd gotten their Disney ending, kind of. They were all happy, kind of. They were the best of friends and nothing stood in their way. Kind of. Not really.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. But it was what it was.

The almost-graduates milled about the gymnasium, saying teary goodbyes, taking pictures, remembering good times.

Sharpay Evans stood in front of a mirror, straightening her cap and fussing with her gown, huffing when her hair became electric with static and her mounting anxiety began to bubble over the top.

Ryan Evans kept a broad smile, determined to remain optimistic, chatting with people he'd never formed true friendships with, but had known since kindergarten.

Gabriella Montez buried her head into her boyfriend's chest. Troy Bolton cupped her face with his hand and spoke softly, trying to ease her nerves.

Chad Danforth sulked against the wall, watching his best friend spend all his time with someone else, meanwhile holding his girlfriend's hand grudgingly.

Taylor McKessie grasped onto her boyfriend's hand as if holding on for dear life, her thoughts buzzing with a strange mixture of nervousness and excitement.

"Graduates! Graduates, please, pay attention! Get into your lines!" The principal strutted through the clumps of students purposefully. The students obeyed, settling into their already-rehearsed line formations, eager and anxious to start that long walk into the auditorium.

They shuffled in, single file, silent.

The principal took his place at the podium.

Time crawled on, yet dissolved swiftly.

Taylor gave her speech, as perfectly as she had practiced. Ryan listened intently. Troy and Gabriella smiled at each other from separate rows. Sharpay let her thoughts wander elsewhere. Chad fidgeted.

At last, the first name was called. Sharpay was vaguely aware of Troy Adam Bolton and Chad Michael Danforth being called. She knew those names. Sharpay blinked, and moments after, or so it seemed, her brother's name was called.

"Ryan Jameson Evans."

On her left side, Sharpay felt her brother stand, lightly brushing his hand against hers, as if to say, this is it. He began his walk down the center aisle, up the short set of stairs, and to the stage to receive his diploma. A big smile spread across his face as he shook various unnamed board members' hands.

"Sharpay Logainne Evans."

She woke from her reverie with a start, then quickly regained her composure and stood.

With one last look that seemed like forever, she gazed at the audience seated behind her graduating class. She picked out her parents in the crowd. Her mother was crying and clapping; her father dabbed at his eyes, which glimmered with pride.

She took that first step, and didn't look back.