Lucky Penny
To say that today sucked would be an understatement.
He was late to school.
One of his favorite hats was snatched off of his head and pitched into the trash where it was greeted by a cascade of lunch food, despite all attempts made by Ryan Evans, himself, and his dearest friend, Troy Bolton, to recover the poor piece of headwear.
Ryan's newest friends, Kelsi Nielsen and Martha Cox, both of whom he'd bonded with over the summer, like he had with Troy, avoided him all day. Kelsi was visibly upset over something, and Martha refused to disclose the cause of the petite composer's sadness.
Sharpay, Ryan's twin sister and the person he still considered his closest companion, canceled her plans to sit in with him and watch a movie to spend time with her boy toy of the moment, Zeke Baylor. In retrospect, Ryan shouldn't have been as disappointed by the announcement. He should have expected such a move, and been used to it, by now.
It's not as though he could fault Sharpay for having a healthy social life. She couldn't be held accountable for the object of her brother's affections being romantically linked to someone else. Or, the misery that that knowledge contributed to when Ryan had a moment alone to let it sink in.
Needless to say, even with all of his attempts to convince himself that his sadness was petty and that he was being overly emotional with little to no reason, Ryan's heart was heavy, and a feeling of isolation stole over him as he pulled up into the Evans's driveway on his electric blue Vespa.
A cloud burst had occurred precisely as he walked out of East High School. The gray overcast sky perfectly reflected his state of mind. And, he hated how pessimistic and gloomy that notion sounded. Rain infiltrated his dress shirt, soaking through the material where the accompanying chill was absorbed by his skin, and sent shivers along the length of his body that prickled the light hairs on his arms.
Ryan removed his riding helmet, slung his messenger bag on over his shoulder, and headed toward the front door. He had every intention of hopping in the shower, changing his clothes, and either dancing until his legs ached and his lungs burned, or putting on a soppy, romantic, endearingly upbeat movie and drowning his sorrows in a cup of piping hot, freshly brewed tea.
He just had a bad day, after all. It wasn't an "end of the world", scenario. As Annie said, "The sun will come out tomorrow".
The sound of something hitting the pavement met his ears.
He turned and spotted a metallic glint as raindrops plinked against a copper penny sitting curiously in the driveway. "Where did you come from?" Brows furrowing, Ryan scanned his surroundings. The area was clear, and he didn't recall bringing any money to school with him that day. Odd. Very odd. The blond boy crossed to the coin and knelt down to examine it.
It was lying with the 'heads' side facing up.
The expression "See a penny, pick it up; all day long, you'll have good luck", pranced around in his mind.
With a wry smile, Ryan heeded the piece of timeless wisdom. He retrieved the "lucky penny", by clasping it between his thumb and forefinger. "Shame I didn't find you earlier," he mused, taking in the familiar profile of Abraham Lincoln. Sweeping a final glance over the surrounding area, if only to assure himself that he wasn't under surveillance from whomever misplaced their token of good luck, he paused just long enough to slip the penny into his pocket, then entered the Evans mansion.
',-',-',
Lady Gaga's "Dance In The Dark" sounded off as Ryan returned to his bedroom dressed in a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. His shampooed hair was still slightly damp, and rested un-styled on his forehead. Kelsi's name lit up his cell phone screen, and he decided to take the call. "Hello?" He inquired, biting anxiously at his lower lip.
"Hi," Kelsi replied softly.
Silence stretched on between them for a few moments. Ryan was uncertain of what to say, or how to begin saying it properly, and Kelsi seemed to be lost in thought.
Finally, Kelsi blurted out all at once, "Jason and I broke up, yesterday. I wouldn't tell him why, so he's mad at me, and I found out today that he's interested in Martha now, because she's the head cheerleader, or something. Martha maybe likes him, too- she thinks he's cute in a dopey sort of way- and I told her that it's okay to go for it, really, that it wouldn't bother me. Everything was okay, I honestly wasn't upset, but then Sharpay walked by and casually told me that my hat didn't match my shirt, and I just started crying, and….!" She paused to catch her breath.
"Sounds like you had an eventful day, huh?" Ryan said. He hoped that that didn't come out as unsympathetic. Clearly, Kelsi was the one who deserved to have found a lucky penny in her driveway, that morning.
"It was all so ridiculous," Kelsi agreed. Thankfully. "It was almost like the setup of some kind of movie."
"Yeah." Ryan smiled and let out a quiet laugh.
"Anyway, Troy told me about your hat. I'm really sorry."
Ryan felt his heart miss a beat at the mention of the brunette athlete's name. As always. A barrage of thoughts flooded his mind; like the manner in which Troy had no problems undressing for gym class with Ryan in the locker room, revealing the toned muscle on his backside as he flexed his strong arms to remove his shirt, displaying his sculpted chest and abdomen, the faint line of dark hair trailing down into his light blue boxers. And, how Troy had laid a comforting hand on Ryan's back after the unbidden disposal of the performer's pageboy cap. And… that Troy was most likely sitting at his house with his arm draped around the shoulders of saccharine little Gabriella Montez, his girlfriend. That Troy was probably smiling at her, his eyes glowing with warmth and affection as he moved in, and… Recovering quickly, Ryan offered Kelsi the same breezy words of reassurance that he had addressed to Troy shortly after the incident. "Don't worry about it. I can always get another one."
This assurance appeared to be enough for Kelsi. She remarked, "Hey, uh, I've got to go, okay?"
"All right." Ryan nodded, shifting his weight. "And, just so you know, your hat complimented your shirt just fine, today."
He could envision Kelsi twirling a lock of her light brown hair shyly. "Really?" She asked.
"Yeah," Ryan encouraged her. "Don't listen to my sister."
"Thank you, Ryan."
"No problem." When Kelsi's end of the line fell silent, and the call came to an end, Ryan's heart felt just a bit lighter than before.
No one was there to take his mind off of assumptions that Troy and Gabriella might well be spooning in the nude at that very moment, and that was certainly a problem. But, Ryan helpfully reminded himself, at least Kelsi is happy, now.
Drawing in a calming breath, like his mother's yoga instructor taught him, he pasted on a more sincere smile and continued on his way back to the bathroom.
',-',-',
Their mom and dad were on a trip, and the staff were taking an, admittedly, much needed vacation. Without Sharpay around to blast her music and bombastically sing along, or fill the house with sounds of gleeful, frenetic chatter as she and her gal pals discussed boys, fashion, relationship drama, celebrity gossip, and makeup, and excluded Ryan from the conversation until he was needed to comment on someone's wardrobe choice, or input on whether or not a specific boy was attractive and worth the trouble of romantic pursuit, the expansive estate felt utterly empty. Ryan likened the feeling that came with sitting in the nearly vacant mansion to the feeling one had when they found themselves waking up on an empty train, or getting locked in a museum after it closed up for the night. Eerie. Lonely.
As Ryan watched The Artist in the den for the third time, in the hopes of combatting his eerie sensation of loneliness, he discerned a tapping noise coming from one of the windows. He paused the movie. Various causes of this noise raced through his mind; A robber? A bird? A squirrel?
Sharpay's tiny Yorkie, Boi, leapt up out of his doggie bed, and began emitting short, sharp barks, his stumpy tail wagging.
Ryan looked from the dog to the front door, and decided that, as the man of the house, it was his responsibility to see to it that things were on the up and up. "Stay there, Boi," he instructed the Yorkie. Steeling himself, he traversed to the door, opened it up, and peered out into the dark. Rain clattered against the front porch overhang. The decorative water fountain in the driveway was overflowing. Past that, the downpour obscured just about everything else. Even the porch light was of little aid. Ryan couldn't make anyone, or anything, out.
A chill creeping over him, he remembered that he was only wearing a rather thin cotton t-shirt. He advised himself that, perhaps, the sound was merely a fabrication of a lonely mind and heart, and prepared to turn back.
"Ryan! Wait."
The blond froze mid-step and turned to find himself face to face with a sopping wet mop of hair hanging in front of desperate ocean blue eyes set in a tanned visage. "Troy?" He gasped. His eyes travelled over the basketball star's body. The brunette boy's light-blue t-shirt and white and blue plaid over-shirt were visibly darkened with moisture and sticking to his sculpted chest. Troy's fairly large black and tan book bag dangled from his left hand. "Wh-What are you doing here?" A smile tugged at the corners of Ryan's mouth, his overpowering joy at seeing the other boy threatening to negate his concern.
Managing an awkward half-smile, Troy rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was in the neighborhood…"
There was something left unsaid. Troy's eyes gave away that something was troubling him. "What's wrong?" Ryan asked.
After a pause, slowly, Troy confessed, "Gabriella and I are fighting." The obvious "again" , in that sentence went unspoken. Although the majority of their peers at East High chose to pretend otherwise, it wasn't exactly a secret that Troy and Gabriella's picturesque relationship was tumultuous, at best, and unhealthy, at worst. "I kept her out five minutes past her curfew, last night, and she got a lecture from her mom. So, she told me to go home when I showed up at her house, earlier."
"She told you to go home?" "Einsteinette", though she may be, Gabriella's behavior was completely baffling to Ryan.
"Yeah." Troy shrugged and shifted his weight uneasily.
"Even after you came out to see her in the rain?" Flabbergasted, Ryan gestured to the precipitation occurring all around them.
Troy bit the inside of his mouth, his eyes clouding. "…Yeah. I mean, I-" He started.
Ryan wasn't sure that he could handle Troy stumbling over himself to defend his girlfriend's asinine behavior. It was bad enough that Gabriella feigned innocence in every possible way, with her brown doe eyes, sugary-sweet girlish voice, and cutesy clothing adorned with all manner of floral accents. Which, coupled with her PDA with Troy and often revealing outfits, brought on an immensely uncomfortable Lolita-ish vibe.
"That's not important, though," Troy finally got out.
Ryan bit his lip. His insides squirmed with discomfort and frustration. Yes, it is important, Troy.
"I'm actually here to see you."
That gave Ryan pause. His heart almost stopped for several seconds. "Really?" He inquired softly, and he was ready to kick himself as soon as the word left his mouth.
Troy nodded and gave him a genuine, swoon-worthy, Troy Bolton smile. "I, uh, I have something for you, Ry."
A tide of happiness swept over Ryan, washing away the negative feelings. But, he took another look at Troy, who was standing before him, soaking wet and shivering. "Why don't you show me, inside?" He nodded toward the door, and held it open, motioning for Troy to go ahead.
"Alright." Troy didn't give it a second thought or a moment's hesitation. Ryan loved that about him.
After closing the door and sealing the both of them safely away from the elements, Ryan placed his undivided attention on his guest. "Do you want to take a hot shower, or put on some dry clothes, or…?"
Gently, Troy cut him off. "Thanks, Ryan. That's okay. I'll be all right," he assured him.
"Well at least let me get you a towel," Ryan insisted. Quickly, he made his way to one of the guest bathrooms, grabbed a nice, dry, clean towel, and returned, handing it over to Troy.
The brunette promptly placed his book bag neatly on the floor. He toweled off his face, neck, and arms, patted his clothing, ruffled the cloth through his hair, and then draped the towel around his neck. "Thank you," he murmured, his blue eyes shining with gratitude. He took a step into the smaller boy.
"'Don't mention it." Ryan bit back a shy grin and ducked his head. "So, 'five minutes past curfew', huh?" He asked, shuffling his feet. Heat began filling his cheeks as a result of the athlete's close proximity.
"Five minutes," Troy clarified. "Right on the dot." He pointed at a space in the air right in front of him to gesticulate his answer.
"My sister and I have stayed out over an hour past curfew." Stifling a laugh, Ryan shifted in closer to Troy, as well.
A smile quirked up the ends of Troy's mouth. "Chad and I have been out pretty late, too."
"Then, what's Gabriella's big hang up, right?" Ryan queried, reaching out to lightly touch Troy's biceps.
Troy relaxed into Ryan's touch, but his smile started to recede, turning into something akin to a frown. "Gabriella just… doesn't like to be wrong."
"I see." Instantly feeling that he'd overstepped his boundaries, Ryan backed down. A clenching feeling seized his stomach. "Troy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"It's cool, Ry," Troy said gently. He reached out and lightly squeezed Ryan's shoulder. "You asked, didn't you?"
"Yeah… I did." Ryan's arms swung a bit, and he smiled in spite of himself. He knew that Troy wouldn't have responded if he'd asked something that made the Primo boy of East High feel uncomfortable. But, it wasn't his place to try to come between Troy and Gabriella. No matter how badly he wanted to familiarize himself with the sensation of Troy Bolton's full pink lips pressed to his mouth and skin, Troy's strong arms wrapped snugly around him, every inch of their bodies touching…
"Anyway."
Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin. "Yes?" He managed.
Troy brought his book bag forward and reached into it, removing a plastic bag. Delving into the bag, he produced a familiar lavender colored piece of headwear.
"My hat!" Ryan exclaimed. He clasped a hand to his chest, his heart liquefying. "Ohh, Troy…!"
"I had to get my hands a little dirty, but I found it." Troy 's grin was both proud and bashful. "Took it home, had it all washed up, and now…" He held the hat out, dipping his head encouragingly. "Here you go, Ry."
Speechless and overwhelmed with happiness, Ryan grabbed his hat and then swept his arms around Troy, drawing the taller boy into him. "Thank you! …Thank you so much, Troy!" He gasped.
"He-hey, it was nothing. Really," Troy said, his arms coming to rest on Ryan's back and his cheek brushing against the smaller boy's head as he returned the hug.
"It is something. At least to me it is," Ryan murmured. If he nuzzled against Troy's neck just a little bit, causing both smooth skin and the soft, cottony towel to touch his cheek, it was entirely on accident. Well, not entirely accidental, but he couldn't help it. No one had ever been willing to rifle through the trash for him. He pulled back enough to look directly into Troy's eyes as he professed, his heart light as air, "You're amazing, Troy. You…" You dug through cafeteria food and leaking cartons of milk and juice for me?! He nearly blurted out. Instead, he went with the much more pleasant, and honest, "You really turned my day around. I'd be moping on the couch, right now, if you hadn't shown up."
Boi let out a quiet whimper, as if in testament to this.
Ryan beamed and Troy beamed right back.
"I'm always happy to be of help," the brunette said with a wink.
It was then that Ryan noticed moisture seeping in through his t-shirt, and recalled that Troy was still soaking wet.
Troy must have noticed the rainwater darkening Ryan's shirt, as well. He stepped back swiftly. "I'm sorry, Ry."
Ryan emitted an easy-going laugh. "It's nothing. Seriously. Just a little bit of-" Troy offered the towel to him, and he smiled, his cheeks heating up, again, as he took it.
',- ',- ',
A bright red umbrella acted as a protective shield for the two of them as Ryan walked Troy back to his truck.
"Next time you decide to come over for a visit, try to do it when the weather is nicer, okay?" Ryan teased the basketball player. His heart missed a beat, prodding him to add something onto that. So, he bit his lip and added. "I'd hate for you to get sick."
"Nah, I'll be fine. A little bit of rain's never hurt me," Troy assured him as he opened the door on the driver's side and tossed his backpack onto the passenger seat.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting long." Ryan wasn't quite ready to bid Troy adieu for the evening, but he didn't want to be an incessantly rambling pest, either.
"Nope." Troy steadied himself and climbed into the driver's seat. "I find that tossing rocks at the window is a pretty effective way to get someone's attention," he continued with a playful smile.
"'Tossing rocks'?" Ryan echoed. That explained the tapping noise. Still, he felt butterflies fluttering rapidly around in his stomach.
"Yeah." Lowering his voice, Troy shrugged and gave Ryan a shy sort of smile. Underneath his side-swept bangs, which were beginning to dry, his eyes glowed softly. "It's kind of romantic, right?"
Ryan nodded. "Yes, it is." Feelings rushed into his chest until his heart felt too tiny to contain them.
Troy slid the key into the ignition, and, after a tense moment, the truck's tired engine spluttered to life. He took a second to adjust his dashboard mirror, then looked back to the blond. "See you tomorrow, Ryan."
"Bye." Raising his hand, Ryan wiggled his fingers in a parting wave.
With a nod, Troy gave Ryan a last smile and closed the door.
Ryan stepped back. He watched Troy expertly maneuver the slightly rusted pickup down the incline toward the road until the bright white of the headlights was shrouded by the enclosing shrubbery and the brisk rainfall. His heart was light, but also strangely heavy as he walked back up the front porch steps and into his home.
Or, perhaps that heaviness was not so strange.
That night, images of himself and Troy dancing like George and Peppy in The Artist twirled about Ryan's mind. He vaguely heard his sister re-enter the house and go about her business as she prepared to go to bed, but, snug under the covers, a fantasy of Troy taking his hand and leaning into him, his eyes shining with love as he took Ryan in, his lips puckering up, occupying his brain, the idea of verbally acknowledging her was far from Ryan's consciousness.
',-',-',
"Can you believe the nerve of some people? How dare that woman try to insist that I didn't ask for my organic sweetener! I mean, when have I ever forgotten my coffee order?" Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan could see Sharpay huff and fold her arms indignantly. The bracelets on her wrist clinked together.
"I'm sure she was just busy, or distracted, Sis," Ryan offered placidly. The picture of Troy hanging up in his locker stared at him, smiling that warm Troy smile, as Ryan collected his notebooks and text books for his morning classes.
"Rule number one of business, Ryan; the customer is always right," Sharpay relayed with a smug smirk. She pulled out her compact mirror, teased her hair, and added a new coat of shiny pink gloss to her lips. Satisfied with her appearance, she blew a kiss at her reflection and closed the miniature mirror.
Ryan checked his own lipstick in the small mirror located under the picture of Troy and fixed the tilt of his hat. Re-adjusting the strap of his messenger bag, he closed his locker and fell into step behind his sister.
"I need you to work on the choreography for our audition for the winter musical," Sharpay said. Her heels clicked against the tiled flooring as she strutted down the hall, several paces ahead.
"Sure thing, Shar."
"Hopefully, Wonderboy Troy Bolton and his nerdy little girlfriend will…" Sharpay continued to prattle on, but her words went in one ear and out the other.
Something else captured Ryan's attention.
Troy was heading down the intersecting hallway toward him. His eyes were concentrated on the screen of his cellphone. Dismay knitted his eyebrows and darkened his vibrant blue irises. "Aw, man," he muttered.
Slipping away from Sharpay, who didn't seem to notice, Ryan caught up to Troy and matched him stride for stride. "Hey."
"Hey." Troy mustered up a smile, if only for Ryan's sake.
"Everything okay?" Ryan searched Troy's face, his voice brimming with concern.
"Yeah. I'm fine. " The athlete ran a hand through his hair. "How are you, Ryan?"
"I'm all right." Ryan smiled softly, hoping that he could help to lessen the brunette's unease. He shifted the corner of one of his text books off of his hip bone.
Troy's smile was a touch more unfeigned. He paused, sliding his right hand partially into his pocket, and then said, "Gabriella called me right after I got home, last night."
"To apologize?" Ryan inquired, just daring to hope that that was the case.
Troy's smile became strained. "Not exactly." Sighing, he turned the corner, Ryan mirroring him. The extent of the concern on Ryan's face must have gotten to him, because he added, "Don't worry about that, though, okay? It's our English test, today, that I'm worried about. Chaucer's really kicking my ass. And…" He showed Ryan the text message that had perturbed him; a reminder from Gabriella to Do well on your test today Wildcat. ;]
"You're going to ace that test, Troy." Ryan reassured him, ignoring the pang in his chest at seeing the cutesy message. He broke into a smile as he declared, "You're highly perspicacious."
Troy laughed lightly. "Not as 'perspicacious' as you, but thanks, Ry." He gave the blond a playful nudge. The anxiety in his features had diminished slightly. Closing his phone, he stowed the device in his jeans pocket. "I just hope that luck is on my side in third period."
The illumination of an idea spread throughout Ryan's brain. He reached into his pocket and extracted a single copper coin. Making sure that the 'heads' side was facing up, he took hold of Troy's hand. For a second, he let himself relish the warmth and lenient strength of the lightly calloused appendage as he gently opened Troy's palm. "You know, I think that it just might be," he said, his heart racing and legs quivering. He closed Troy's fingers over his tanned palm, and slowly retracted his own hands.
Curiously, Troy opened his palm and peered at the object that had been transferred into his grasp. A penny.
Wordlessly, he raised his eyes to meet Ryan's and smiled at him, those pools of ocean blue framed by long black lashes, teeming with affection.
Ryan reciprocated the stare.
