First off I do not own High School Musical nor am I affiliated with the franchise. I started writing this story years ago and it's been eating away at my soul for its entirety. This story just sucks and I've developed and changed so much as a writer. I changed the title, it was previously titled ACROSS THE EYES. I've rewritten it and decided to make it shorter. So many of you have been so loyal and patient and I cannot die without finishing this lame-ass story. So with that being said, if you'd like to read it then continue. If you would like to read something else I will not be offended. If you're an old reader, thank you for sticking with me. If you're a new viewer, well then thank you as well. You will not be waiting as long as my other fellow fangirls and fanboys have, I promise. Thank you all.

She guided it out of her body after one final push. True ecstasy. The fucking release.

How long had it been? All day, all night, it was now early morning. Her lips were chapped and her throat was burnt up from the hidden lion groans her towel masked.

Her eyes were squeezed shut, so afraid to see if it was a boy or a girl. She had no desire to know, that was the one thing that she could do to help herself. By thinking calling it a thing, an "it." She wasn't required to love it.

She didn't have to care.

But that was how she felt then, now she couldn't resist the urge to look just as she couldn't resist the urge to push. Some things are just involuntary and you have no control over them.

A girl. She looked down and saw the still body of her baby daughter. And damn she was beautiful.

The newborn love she had for this child was instant. Instinctive, unintentional, spontaneous. It was an accident. She never wanted to care so much but she just couldn't help it. Nothing felt more natural than the insistence to pick it up and hold it against her hot, slick skin.

It wasn't fair. She didn't understand how she was supposed to just wrap her up and drive her to a safe place and leave her there. How could she even get the strength to go through with it? There were so many things she never thought through.

Sharpay didn't think that it was going to be so hard to carry a baby for nine months and then give birth to it by herself. Women had been having babies for thousands of years, how was she any different? Birth was supposed to be the most natural thing ever, so why did this make her want to cower in shame?

It was for the baby, she had to remind herself of that. She couldn't keep it. They wouldn't let her keep it. The best thing that she could do now was get it someplace safe where it would be looked after and cared for. The hospital could decide what to do then. She was too young to know what the right thing was. She just knew that she couldn't make any more mistakes. If it were up to her, there was one thing she would do right by this baby, and that was get it to a safe place. Somewhere she could walk away without a fight.

The baby, she…she was so little. Sharpay noticed how tranquil the child seemed.

So…unmoving. So…lifeless.

Babies were supposed to cry, weren't they? That's how they start to breathe. It wasn't crying… In fact, if it weren't her own baby it could've fooled her for a little doll. The face was frozen like porcelain. The tiny hands lay limply on the tile floor.

And that's when another sensation started to creep in...dread? No, not dread, panic. Utter panic awakened inside of the young seventeen year-old. Her fingers went to the stomach of the baby.

"No, no, no, no…" she choked over and over, using every last bit of strength to hold herself together.

She prayed silently for a squeak, a cry. A gasp from the newborn human being, anything.

Her gut said to slap its bottom, like she saw the doctors do in the movies. But how could she do when her hands were shaking?

"Cry, cry…" she pleaded to the assumed dead child. Maybe her will was enough to bring it to life. Oh no…time was running out. She was no doctor, but she knew that the child should've been using its lungs by now.

Oh no, it hadn't.

"Cry, little angel," she begged. Her hands convulsing and fumbling to roll the child over, she had no idea what to do.

And then it cried.

Another release of nerves and fear left so quickly it was the perfect moment. She trembled as it lied there in between her legs. Alive, crying, the wet, bloody, creamy white body squirming restless on the floor. As she stared into those frightened eyes, she felt her throat tighten and her cheeks burn.

It was an accident, she never meant for it to go this far.

She rubbed its belly and grabbed the towel from beside her.

Her eyes met those tiny eyes that lay on the floor between her legs. She saw the wet hair on the little head and the little ears. The little eyelashes that spread across the eyes, making her think of butterfly wings.

Her hands began to wrap the child inside a cocoon, proving warmth and protection.

She gave into her temptation and picked up the little thing that cried for a chance. Sharpay never felt such completeness as she held it in her chest, its little nose cuddled into the valley of her breasts.

Denial to be a mother from this point forward was impossible. It was right in front of her, that little face that looked just like hers… so terrifying. She knew it would affect her but not like this.

She should've just told her mother. She tried to a million times. But every single time she started to…

How in the world was she going do this now? Everyone around her had proven to be oblivious but now there was absolutely no where to go, nowhere to hide. It was an accident, everything. A horrible, unfortunate, and unintentional accident.

Her parents were working, her brother was at school. They were alone, like usual.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but I swear that I love you," she said when she could finally speak. Now there was no way that she was ever going to let her go. She had branded her life onto Sharpay's heart and soul.

She didn't care what anyone said; she didn't care if her mother threw her out of the house and told her to never come back. This was her baby, and she was never going to leave this little girl's side.

The crying began to fade. With her eyes focused on the life that was slippery across her bare flesh, she crawled on her knees across the floor into her bedroom to retrieve her phone, now her literal lifeline. She retrieved it nervously and dialed three numbers that would hopefully arrive in time to save them both.

"I'm so sorry," she choked with the heaviest heart. To the little girl, who didn't ask to be born.