Title: Bubblegum Pink
Category: High School Musical
Genre: Humor/General
Ship: Troy/Sharpay
Rating: PG
Prompt: Fingernails
Word Count: 453
Summary: Nothing was ever what it seemed.

Bubblegum Pink
-Drabble-

They're like talons, but he knows she won't appreciate the similarity if he points it out, so he simply eyes them warily. He supposes the bubblegum pink color of them might take away from their sharp origins, but he can't help thinking she could take his jugular out if she so feels like it. He understands Chad's remark about mountain lions a little more now; in her own way, she does resemble one. They're nice to look at, calculating and strong, and their claws could tear a person in two without much exertion. Sharpay Evans has that look to her; maybe it's her words and not her nails though. Then again, maybe it's all just for show. Yes, she looks like the proverbial dumb blonde who cares little about anything except being the star and spending daddy's money, but he's seen another side to her. One kept well hidden; the real person behind the mask.

They're all wearing masks, he knows that now. He was before Gabriel opened him up to being his own person and maybe Sharpay just hasn't found the person to help her do so. So she'll wear her bright pink nails like a shield, daring anybody to try and get too close and knowing they wouldn't, they won't, because she could strike out at any time and leave them defenseless, quite possibly without their jugular, and then where would they be?

They're a warning and he knows this. The color may seem harmless but even that screams, "RUN AWAY!" and he should listen. Or at least that's what his instincts tell him. But in the past, those same instincts have been wrong. He'd spent most of his life being just the basketball star, meeting the requirements set forward by people who were supposed to like him no matter what. So maybe they were wrong again, maybe he'd always been wrong about Sharpay. Maybe behind the Toodles and the wiggly-finger-waves and the blonde hair that was always styled to bizarre perfection, there was a real girl in there, waiting for somebody to see her.

So he ignored the way his hand twitched to cover his neck, how he swallowed as if this might be the last time he had a jugular, and he stepped up to the plate. He might've eyed those fingernails for a fraction of a second, but he still took the chance.

"Hey Sharpay," he greeted.

And for just a fraction of a second there was surprise, even a fragility to her that he'd never known. He smiled. She would hide it, he knew this. But now he knew something else as well. Nothing was ever what it seemed. Not mountain lions, pink fingernails or basketball jocks.