Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.
Author's note: I've watched High School Musical a number of times, High School Musical 2 once, but have yet to see High School Musical 3: Senior Year. So this story is written based on my knowledge from watching the original movie, and will no doubt deviate away from the subsequent movies.
This multi-chapter story is rated T for some adult concepts and language.
Jack Bolton blearily opened his eyes.
Squinting at the harsh sunlight that flooded the room, it took him a moment to realise that the bed he was in, the sheets wrapped around his various limbs, and the gauzy canopy hanging from the bedposts above him were most certainly NOT his.
Struggling to ascertain his surroundings, his brain worked furiously to try and recall the last thing he could remember. Drinks, dance, drinks, argue, drink… taxi?
The End of Year Staff Party.
At the realisation, he pushed himself upright, mentally pushing away the pounding in his head fiercely with little success. He battled nausea as his hand pulled free from the troublesome sheet and came into touch with something soft.
He was caressing it for a few short seconds before his befuddled and slowly functioning mind set the warning bells off. His eyes sharpened as he stopped his actions, slowly pulling his hand back and looking down to see who possessed the softness.
The soft upper arm belonged to a serene sleeping – very much naked – woman. Gingerly shifting to gaze into the face of his bed partner without waking her, he found himself to be looking down at the one and only Ingrid Darbus.
Oh shit.
He had no time to process what this meant as at that exact moment his mobile phone rang. The ring tone blared repeatedly, shattering the still of the bedroom.
He fumbled with the sheets wrapped around him, finally throwing them back ferociously and able to stand. He was oblivious to his own nakedness as he looked around for the still ringing offender, mindful of his bed partner whom he really wanted to stay asleep for as long as possible.
Spotting his pants over a chair on the far side of the room, he raced over. Kicking the chair in his eagerness to reach his mobile, he snatched up the discarded garment, ignoring the throbbing pain in his big toe as he breathlessly answered the phone.
'Hello?' Damn, he should have checked caller id first.
'Jack?' asked the voice on the other end. 'Are you okay?'
'Luce?' Double damn. 'I'm fine.'
'Where are you?' his wife continued in a teasing tone. 'Passed out at the party?'
In a manner of speaking.
'Where am I?' hedged Jack as he took in his surroundings, noting the warm, homey feel that the small bedroom had. Averting his eyes from the bed, he continued. 'A friend let me crash at their place after a few too many. I've just woken up now.'
'Well, I suggest you check your watch mister because you have five minutes to get here before my parents arrive,' said Lucille Bolton, a warning tone underlying her statement.
But they weren't coming til… Oh shit, it's past 11. 'I'm on my way,' he promised quickly, shoving his mobile between his jaw and shoulder as he began to gather up his belongings.
Hanging up the phone, feeling so dirty saying an 'I love you' as he ended the call, he held his pants in hand as he turned to face the bed. He considered his options before he just shook his head, threw on the bare minimum and bolted out the door without an explanation.
He was never going head to head with Ingrid Darbus ever again. That woman could hold her liquor.
Throwing the fare at the taxi driver before he'd even pulled up in front of his house, Jack Bolton raced up the path, dashed past his wife in the kitchen and was momentarily stalled by his son on the stairs. Troy gave him a strange look as he began to unbutton his shirt, intent on a shower. 'You okay Dad? You look a bit worse for the wear.'
'Fine, just fine,' responded Jack in a hurry. 'Just let me get in the shower and then we'll face the in-laws together.'
Troy laughed. His dad was okay. 'Better hurry then,' he said. 'Mom's gonna kick your butt like usual.'
He nodded as Troy made his way down the stairs and he headed for the bathroom. Out of earshot of his son, he muttered under his breath. 'It's not my butt I'm worried about this time.'
Coming up: The long summer is over and school begins once again.