Ryan was wearing a new hat and it was white, it matched to the uniform that he was wearing. He partly felt like Elvis, crooner, mover, shaker, off to war. It was the least
expected move for an Evans, but at the same time, for Ryan, it was the only one that he could come to a conclusion for. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he laughed wryly
that he now had a reason to be consistently wearing a hat outside. The irony was in the fact that he was the least expected to take the Naval science classes, the engineering
classes, drilling on weekends… he remembered Sharpay's laughter when struggling which letter went left to right to make words. He survived East High. He survived university.
He survived Rotten Groton. Hell, he wasn't just Navy, Ryan was a submariner. The dress blues were crisp, his first ribbon pinned on. What was even crazier was the fact he
passed a stringent placing, after tonight's "Welcome Home" party, he had a week before he was to ship out to earn his dolphins. Submarines were great places to sing. But long
ways from home, from friends, in a tin can, under the sea… Not only was he incommunicado, he couldn't discuss his job beyond his studies, submariners stood fast to the old
adage, "Loose Lips Sinks Ships."
He felt shaky; his mother stopped calling him "Ducky." She blamed the uniform, the shiny shoes, the gold buttons on the span of spun navy blue. Ryan shook his head as he
became whimsical again…he started to hum, "I feel pretty," the silliness of a Navy man singing "I feel pretty, oh so pretty," eased his mind on that the next seven years of his life
belonged to United States Government. Where his Iron Woman patrolled undisclosed, but he would be able to keep studying, keep singing, and he thought again on how great
a sub echoed the melodies. Sharpay paused on the landing as she watched her younger brother step from his room. He looked dashing, he looked older, and sadly, he no longer
looked like her twin to her. Ryan looked much like their father, the shortened hair, and the widened shoulders from weekends of drills. Even his voice singing the ditty was
deeper. She felt like a little girl paused in time as her baby twin brother grew up. She too went off to college, liberal arts major of course, her psychology classes unknown on
the side. Performing was her life, so she decided to try New York, with her parents support, it would still be hard, but living the past five years without Ryan, she was home for
the week before he shipped off. Ryan laughed out loud at his sister when she interrupted his song with a song she took time to learn. "Farewell to college joys, we sail at break
of day-ay-ay-ay."
"Hey Shar! You're home!"
"Of course Ry, couldn't let you sail away without a proper "Don't break a leg!""
The twins hugged, then they laughed as Ryan's hat tumbled from its not so secure spot under his arm. It bounced down the stairs. Sharpay was still laughing; after all, one never
expected a hat to roll completely on its side down steps better than a slinky. She didn't recognize the slight stiffening of Ryan's body, or his fading laugh as he realized that
Gabriella Montez was the one to stop the hat's journey. She looked stunning to him, or was he still stunned from the first time he saw her in Ms. Darbus' homeroom? Her hair
was long again, still wavy, but her eyes were still darker, lined with those dark lashes. She still looked stunning in Wildcat Red. He paused, but tugged his laughing sister with him
down the stairs. Sharpay let go of his arm when she realized that Gabriella was there. He watched as they greeted one another cheerfully, the primos of East High, one fair, one
dark. Sure, it was rough going their junior year, hell, even the summer after. Ryan shook his head to let loose of the memories. Senior year was better. Sharpay was Queen of
the Fall Formal, Gabriella was Queen at the Spring Jubilee, but the two, well, and Sharpay worked at making sure their senior year was great.
Ryan looked around the front room as the guests were mingling before dinner. He saw Gabriella's former other half still standing with his basketball clique. Taylor was standing
with Chad, Zeke gave Ryan a small wave. Ryan waved back, and then turned to face Gabriella. She gave him a smile, in the past, she would giggle, but she couldn't let one
bubble out of her. She finally understood what her mother meant by a "man-in-uniform like her daddy was." Sure, they sent emails back and forth, even posted pictures on their
group chat spaces. Pictures did no justice to a man-in-uniform, especially of a friend you never expected to see wearing one. She handed his hat back to him, and shyly gave
him a hug hello. Ryan felt her hug and felt joy, and then felt that joy go into distaste as he watched Troy cross the room. As soon as the two of them were finished hugging, he
watched Troy place his hands at Gabriella's back while reaching out to shake his hand. He was upset, he didn't notice what Sharpay did, which was Gabriella stepping away
from Troy. She may not have stepped closer to Ryan, but it was away from Troy.
Sharpay was angry at Troy. For herself, Gabriella, and Ryan. It was obvious Ryan would never step over any line, long erased or not. Sure she like the basketball phenom back
in high school, Sharpay even went to a college game a time or two. She went to watch Zeke of course, but with Troy at UA, Gabriella at Stanford, Shar watched Troy take
other girls to the parties, disappear upstairs, come down rumpled. She regretted not talking straight with the new girl sooner. If she didn't see it with her own eyes, she would
have never believed it. With Troy's last trip home, he had become even more arrogant than ever, being a young assistant defense coach at University of Albuquerque. He rolled
home more than Gabriella did, but he didn't seem to realize that her studies didn't take drive them apart; it was Troy's whispered actions that did.
Gabriella hated the talk. However, her senior class at East High was small, close, and whispers was all she heard the last three years. Sure, they still called her the new girl, or
the singing math whiz, but mathematics was her passion. Troy's explanations and the whispers never added up, but the variables of the rumors outweighed his talk. The pictures
of that last girl on the senior chat page didn't help, Troy drinking, his stripping, and goodness know what else was blurred.
Sure, there was being young. Being happy, having fun. But pissed drunk then telling your girl it didn't happen. Stupid.
Gabriella stepped back further from the boys, rather, men, and felt Sharpay hook her arm with hers walking her away from a tense situation. Taylor left Chad's side, and the
girls made their way up the stairs with only their heels making sounds on the steps. Ex-boyfriends were exes for a reason, and women had to stick together.
Ryan was still shaking hands with Troy as he watched out of the side of his eye as Gabriella moved away. Troy's handshake was firm as it ought to be, but Ryan couldn't keep
the clammy feeling of it out of his mind. "What a righteous bastard," Ryan thought, as he smiled and made small talk.
Troy Bolton wasn't friendly with Ryan. They were still acquaintances after all this time of living in the same town. Sure he could sing, dance, but the Navy? What kind of idiot
would sign his life away like that, to be under the thumb of the feds. Troy couldn't trust anyone who didn't follow their life's passion into adulthood. Nor could he forget that
image from six summers ago when he saw Ryan kiss Gabriella's hand. It was a small moment, a moment nothing was built on, or hidden, but for a man to tread on another
man's territory, mitts were off. By the time the genial questions of "How are you," and "What have you been doing" were asked, both men noticed that the girls made their way
back down the stairs. The large crowd of guests, former classmates noticed the three beautiful girls in white, red, and blue, all in honor of one Ensign Ryan Evans. With the
murmurs of the crowd stopping, Sharpay took the moment of their attention to make the announcement of her brother's achievement.
"Ladies and Gentleman," she curtsied, "We have a 'Welcome Home' for my dearest younger brother, Ensign Ryan Evans!" The crowd roared with approval and a generous
ovation. Ryan felt a bit flushed with the approval not readily given in the Navy. Sharpay's voice arose once more as another banner unfurled beside the first one. "Aaanndddd
also, a "Don't Break-a-Leg/Bon Voyage!" The crowd laughed and clapped again, Mrs. Evans made her way to where the girls were standing. "Now, before we celebrate and
reminisce, let's have dinner, shall we?" Members of the crowd filed toward the outdoor patio, where the arbors where set for a buffet, the music of the band starting the first
appetizer course.
Zeke came and collected Sharpay, Taylor slipped her hand into Chad's. Ryan was left standing a step beneath Gabriella, the hairs of his neck rising. He could feel the tension
that was radiating off of her, so instead of asking verbal permission to escort her to dinner, he took her hand, and tucked it into his elbow. He was the mirror image of his twin,
being left-handed, but also following regulations leaving his right-hand, his sword hand free. That was part of why he loved the Navy, the regulations, the etiquette, not to
mention the hat that came with the uniform.
They joined the middle of the crowd, and surged to the head of the line together, after all, Ryan was the man of the hour. Neither of them saw Troy's face as they walked away.