The Board Of Secrets – Edited.
By samlover14
The Board of Secrets
GPS (General Plot Synopsis): In effect, not changed at all, only edited because I used to write stupid.
Issues to be fixed: Personality switch, continuity errors, sexuality errors, less aggressive Ryan, more sympathetic Troy, more Chad, less Chuckie (Sorreh.)
A/N: Hai. Samantha here. Honest to God, I will be updating this story. If I haven't updated in a week, seriously, send me a PM and tell me to get a move on. There is no excuse for me.
Basically, this story is the same story as the first one, but think of it as the extended disco version. I've added some things and deleted some things, especially towards the ending. There is a lot of information in here that wasn't in the original, and, honestly, why didn't any of you ever tell me I wrote stupid?
Enjoy, and I'll see you at the end.
Chapter One: Blame It On The Alcohol.
There I was. The music was loud, the beer was cold. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, Ryan Evans drinks beer. And Chad will probably never let me live it down.
There was really no way to tell through the raging party that the room we were all dancing in was normally a living room. Sharpay was around, on the stage with a microphone, of course. Zeke, her number one fan, was watching in adoration from the edge of the stage. Kelsi, my best friend, was, last I'd head, down the hall somewhere with Jason, at least that's what I'd heard. I hadn't heard they were going out again, but who knows?
Lovely Gabriella, my other best friend, was sitting near the edge of the room, on the opposite side as the stage, next to the front door, tears falling down her face. Her boyfriend, East High's Golden Troy Bolton, He-Who-Can-Do-No-Wrong, God's-Gift-To-Women, was probably to blame. I looked around, finally spotting him near the backdoor, laying on the couch with one of his basketball goons, both staring at me. I frowned at them and made to go over to Gabriella.
"Hey guys," I said, finally making my way through the crowd to Gabriella and Taylor. "Why so sad?"
"Gabriella, well, she and Troy just broke up," said Taylor.
"Isn't that a good thing?" I asked, cracking a grin. Taylor slapped me and I dropped the grin, trying to backtrack. "Well, he's such an ass, I figured…"
"That's not the problem, Ryan," Gabriella said. "The problem is, well, what it is… I, well…"
"Gabi, is there something you'd like to share with the whole class?" I asked.
"Not really," she said, slumping into the couch.
"Okay, that's fine." I took Taylor's vacated seat and drained the can I was holding. "You don't have to talk about it." She sighed as I threw the can into the midst of the crowd for the hell of it. "What?"
"Ryan, I – I don't know what to do. Troy's been such a jerk, but I'm not really even sure about anything these days and I just need…" Gabriella began. "I just need…" Tears ran down her beautiful face. "I just need…" She sniffed loudly and tried one more time. "I just think that I need…" She was too close. All the red alerts in my head were flashing, but I ignored them all as my lips joined hers. "Sorry," she muttered after.
"Don't apologize," I said, "half my fault too."
"I put the idea in your head," she mumbled. She seemed disgusted that she'd let herself kiss me. I should have been insulted.
"D'you wanna go somewhere quieter and you can tell me what it is that you 'just need'?" I suggested. She nodded and together we progressed upstairs to my bedroom, Troy's eyes on our backs the whole way.
As much as I try to remember, the events of that night will probably always be fuzzy. All I remember is laughing, a little bit of dancing, and that the Morning After was the worst day of my life.
When I woke up, the morning sun was pouring in through the glass doors that led to my balcony. I rolled over to get the sun out of my face, and rolled right out of bed. I took in my surroundings. An unopened can of beer on my nightstand, a girl's top and bottom hanging from my curtain rod as if to dry for some reason. Had we gone swimming? That's when I realized… A head of black hair in my bed, the one that the clothes belonged to: Gabriella. Fortunately the sheets were covering her (what I could only assume was) naked body, as I had pulled the comforter off when I'd fallen out of bed.
Hung over as hell (indicating I'd drank a few more than I could remember), I stumbled into the bathroom to take a shower. In the shower, a lot of thoughts ran through my head.
At the top of the list was Gabriella. See, at that point, I was about 98% sure I was, well, gay. Maybe everyone else though they knew I was, but I still wasn't 100%. Sometimes I still think I'm a little straighter when I'm drunk, and I was drunk almost all of that summer. The thing is, all previous evidence pointed to homosexual: my general demeanor, my enormous crush on Troy, my childhood experiences…
This is changing the subject a little, but when I was about 8, I'd had my first gay crush, and it wasn't on Troy. It had been on my best friend at the time, Bobby. Bobby came out at 13. He transferred schools when we started high school, but his boyfriend got him into drugs, and last I heard they were a couple states away from here. I digress. The point is, I'd kind of always been about 95% sure I was gay, despite the face I'd never had a boyfriend, a girlfriend, or any kind of experience with anyone.
Not knowing what had happened the night before, and examining the evidence, I was led to the conclusion that Gabriella had managed to seduce me. I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist before going back into my room. I deliberated over an outfit for a while before choosing a pair of khaki shorts and a navy polo. And of course a hat.
"Good morning, starshine," Gabriella said from behind me, making me jump.
"Mm…. good morning," I replied, slightly less than thrilled. "And how are you?"
"Fine thanks," she said. I turned my back on her as she got up. "So last night was fun, huh?"
"Mm…" I said again.
"Are you not going to talk to me?" She sounded hurt. "After everything we–"
"Look, Gabriella, I'm not exactly sure what went on last night, and I'm not altogether sure I even want to know," I added before she could tell me in all the horny details, the thought of which were making my stomach churn, "but I can probably guess, and I–"
"Well, you were pretty drunk, but I expected–"
"Yeah, I was. And it's not nice to take advantage of people when they're drunk," I said. "I've never… I mean…" I trailed off. Where we come from, it's embarrassing to admit you're a good guy still at 17.
"I haven't either," Gabriella said. "I thought what we had was special." I couldn't believe my ears. Why on earth would she choose me instead of Troy?
"No, it wasn't. It wasn't fair and it sure as hell wasn't special. Just… go use your own boyfriend next time. And that's not me," I said, leaving my room, swearing at myself inside, going down the stairs and into the dining room, where Troy and the Wildcats were waiting with applause and cheers.
"Encore!" "Nice work, Evans!" "Congrats, dude, I underestimated you!" "Guess he is straight after all." "You owe me 20 bucks." "Ow!"
I ignored all of it. They assumed, just as I did, that I'd slept with Gabriella the night before. Troy was glaring at me. Sensing the rising tension as I made some Toaster Strudel, the Wildcats cleared out, leaving me and Troy alone.
"What the hell?" Troy finally asked. "Gabriella dumps me and spends the night with you? What is this world coming to?"
"I have asked myself that very same question 14 times since I woke up," I responded. Troy was going to kill me, I knew it. Surrendering my fate, I looked up at his face. Only confusion lay there, no contempt.
"Seriously, what the hell? Why you? Probably she told you we never did…" Troy trailed off. He didn't sound angry, per se…
"Troy, I'm so sorry. I was drunk, I can't even remember–" I began.
"This isn't just some random chick, Evans, this is my Gabi," Troy said, a bit louder. I couldn't think of anything to say. "Your gay ass not going to say anything? Figures." He snorted.
"Look, Bolton, I said, putting particular emphasis on the use of his last name, not something I usually did. "I was drunk, Gabriella wasn't. She took advantage of me, not the other way around. Don't act like she's totally innocent here. And don't ever let me hear you calling me that again," I added for good measure, even though I was about 93% sure I was, it was rude to say. I disappeared though the door behind me into the lounge, then made my way through the maze of doors that led out to the Gardens. Sure, the sunlight was hell for my head, but the slight breeze felt nice. I sat inside a hedge I had once used as a fort – back when I'd had some friends… Bobby and I spent years in these gardens…
About ten minutes passed before I was found. None other than Chad Danforth poked his head into my hedge-fort.
"What?" I demanded, perhaps a little more forcefully that I would have liked.
"I heard what Gabi did to you," Chad said, sitting down in the hedge-fort with me, even though I hadn't invited him in.
"You and the five hundred thousand other people in Albuquerque," I said, unable to look at him.
"Couldn't believe it man. Still don't."
"I don't really want to talk about it," I said, still looking at the ground.
"Okay," he agreed. He didn't say anything else, just sat. Finally, I looked at him. He was just staring at me.
"Okay, you didn't come all the way out here just to tell me that," I said. "What do you want?"
"Thought you might want to talk. Isn't that what we usually do?" he asked. It was, but I hadn't ever told him – or anyone, not even Kelsi or Sharpay – what I was thinking right then.
"Fine," I agreed. "Talk."
"I guess it's no use telling you Troy and Gabriella made up." I snorted. "And Troy thinks you're an ass."
"I am," I agreed, "and so is he."
"No, you're not. Troy's an ass, and Gabi's a bitch, if she did that to you," Chad said. I couldn't believe he'd just said that about his best friend. Maybe I could. "You don't deserve all the crap everyone gives you. And if you say you're straight I'll believe you." There it was. He wanted my confirmation. I was about 86% sure that I wasn't straight. It's like… how am I supposed to know? There's no Being Gay for Dummies book. I googled it. And then I goggle imaged it. Which was a mistake. But also kind of awesome.
"I don't know," I sighed. "It's one of the current possibilities. I…" I cast my mind around. "I was going to talk to Kelsi about this, but…you're here. I know it's probably a little too much information for you, but you're my only guy friend."
"I'm flattered, but I'm straight, thanks," Chad interrupted quickly.
"Um…no," I said, rolling my eyes. "The truth is, I can't tell. I'm about 83% sure that I'm not straight, but I've never had a girlfriend or a boyfriend. The only experience I've ever had is, apparently, last night, which I can't remember, but the only person I find really attractive is… well, Troy." Chad looked at me sideways and fidgeted awkwardly. "I know, I know, he doesn't swing like that. You don't have to tell me."
"Nah… It's just… about freaking time," Chad finally said.
"What?" Utterly perplexed, that was the only word I could make.
"The guys and I have had this bet since like the sixth or seventh grade on when you were going to admit you had feelings for Troy," Chad explained.
"Oh, great," I mumbled. "And I don't have feelings for Troy. He's just hot. These are just, I dunno, stirrings." Chad raised his eyebrows, skeptically. "Alright, feelings, damn you. I don't want to be with him or anything, that's…. well maybe I do." I grinned a little bit, but dropped it at the look on Chad's face.
"You've lasted much longer than most of us bet you would," Chad said.
"I can't believe you guys would take bets on something that serious," I said, disapprovingly.
"It's all in fun," he replied, shrugging.
"When did you bet?"
"Graduation. Guess I was off, huh?" Chad said, sheepishly.
"Not really. So who's listening to our little conversation?" I asked, looking around for the hidden camera. Chad had been known to film his best friends and broadcast them on a webcam for the world to see.
"No one. It's just us, I swear." There was a silence. The wind blew the hedge-fort slightly.
"I think we need to find me a girlfriend," I said.
"Don't you mean… Troy?" Chad said, grinning. I frowned at him. He wasn't helping.
"No, Troy's a big jerk. A great big jerk. I don't care if I think he's sexy as hell–"
"Who doesn't?" Chad interjected.
"I can't just ignore the 12 years of torture I've endured because of him. I can't imagine–" I couldn't say it. I couldn't voice my fears that my feelings could turn to more than that. That they could turn into total, obsessional, I-need-to-be-with-you, complete and total, outright LOVE. I'd never been in love and I didn't know what it felt like. This couldn't possibly be this difficult for everyone, could it? "If I somehow ended up in love with Troy," I began, following my thoughts aloud for Chad's sake, "and I told him, but he doesn't feel the same way, there's no way I'd be…" I couldn't tell Chad what I'd probably do. That was private, even to him. "It wouldn't be pretty."
"Don't worry," Chad said. "I wouldn't let him do anything to you. You're cool." It wasn't what Troy would do that I was afraid of.
"Thanks, I think," I said. "And if you breathe a word of this to anyone else, you're dead."
"Ooh, Ryan Evans is threatening me. However shall I defend myself?" Chad joked. "Whatever will he do? Hit me with his hat?"
"Of course not, that would be a waste of a good hat. I do have other things to hit you with, though. Like… Sharpay." Chad gasped.
"You wouldn't."
"No, I wouldn't. I'd say you've had more than enough of her for one lifetime. But I could if I wanted to. You have been warned."
"Got it. I wouldn't anyway," Chad said.
"Thanks." I stood up and stretched. If I was going back inside, it was now or never. Chad got up as well and we left the hedge-fort and ran into the last person I wanted to see.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?"
A/N: Me again. It's probably not worth the cliff hangers, because you can just go to the original story and see what happens next, but I might have a new generation of reader who would like a little surprise.
As I've said about 19028398234 times before, I don't own HSM, RENT, Friends, Legally Blonde, George Bush, Avenue Q, Phineas and Ferb, Gossip Girl, Starkid, or Glee. Or anything else. Really. All I have is this computer and a 32" TV. Please don't sue me.
xoxo,
Samantha/samlover14/£ily£una
