A/N – I am completely obsessed with this pairing! It's the only thing I've been looking for this past week and there's just not enough. So I'm contributing to the all too small amount of Chadpay stories. Hope you like it!

Cobwebs

Chad Danforth and Taylor McKessie. The jock and the geek take two. A loving couple of five months now. It's enough to make me barf.

I can almost taste my chicken salad sandwich and Diet Coke rising back up my throat as he unconsciously tucks a stray piece of dull brown hair behind her ear. The brownie is coming up next when she smiles at him and they kiss each other on the lips. I feel like standing on top of the lunch table and yelling, "WHAT'S SO SPECIAL ABOUT LITTLE MISS BRAINIAC?"

But then I see the secret little wink he gives me, and I feel sane again. He notices me. He hasn't forgotten. I'm worthy.

And then I yet again try to convince myself that I don't care about what he thinks. I'm Sharpay freaking Evans and I could get almost any boy I wanted at this miserable high school. I don't need this certain one. I choose to have him.

But when he stands up and asks me if I understood our Government homework assignment last night, and would I mind helping him with his?, I know that I'm helpless against his smile. I mutter some standard stinging comment about how much of an idiot he is, which is expected of the Ice Queen.

That's all this is, expectations. No one would expect the Ice Queen to fall for Lunk Head Basketball Man. And so we let them think that, keeping up the required appearances.

It isn't until we get out of the main hallway and into the old band room that he whispers in my ear.

"It's so adorable how you pretend you can't stand me."

Goosebumps immediately break out on my rhinestone sweater-clad arms. Still I try to ignore them, to hold out hope for the fact that maybe the air conditioning was suddenly turned on, and he honestly has no effect on me. Or maybe I'm getting sick and have the chills. Anything but this dependency I have on him.

I open my mouth to even attempt to fire back at him, maintain one last part of the façade that I've been living for the past two months.

Instead, he just leans over me and tenderly kisses me the way that makes me feel weak in the knees. I smile against his lips, and eagerly kiss back.

Hands are roaming, lips kissing, temperature rising, and my shame disappearing.

Why would I ever want this to stop?

How can I be ashamed of something that feels so right, so perfect?

I couldn't, I can't, and I haven't ever since we started.

We break apart to catch our breath, and he quickly has his hand up my shirt and deftly unclips my bra. My hands are up his too, feeling his abs and wishing I had more. Not only physically, but in every possibly way.

We're kissing feverishly when I start to tug on his pants.

"Shar-"

He attempts to stop me between kisses.

"Shar stop! You know that's a Taylor zone."

I visibly flinch and the sound of her name, and can tell my previous feelings of self-worth or going down the drain.

There it was. The reason I hated to love him. The ever present rejection.

"Listen, I should go. I have to walk Taylor to class anyways. I'll see you tomorrow."

I sadly nod, disgusted with the pathetic need I harbored for him. He must've noticed the mood change, and he quickly strode over and passionately kissed me.

My dashed hopes raised enough for me to pick myself up after he had left. I did the usual clean-up. Fixed my hair and make-up, readjusted my clothes, made sure my bra was re-hitched, and of course checked for left behind belongings. I quickly dabbed the inner corner of my eye to make sure no tears had attempted to leak out.

Then I strode out of the hallway, like I owned the place.

The next morning, I watched them kiss.

During English, I watched them naively pass notes.

During lunch, I watched them exchange I love you's.

After school, I watched them hold hands and kiss goodbye.

Then I thought about Chad and me.

If you watched us in the morning, you would see two love struck people. But not with each other.

If you watched us in English, you would see one blissfully happy person, and another seeing how unhappy she really was.

If you watched us during lunch, you would see hunger in both of our eyes, but mine for him, and him just for the excitement, and maybe the spaghetti he had for lunch.

If you watched us after school, you wouldn't even see us together.

And that's when I realized that our façade, our well crafted charade, our thinly woven veil, actually had giant holes amongst the fabric.

He was in love. With her.

I was in love. With him.

And as I re-examined our "brilliant" cover-ups myself, I noticed that they weren't solid fabric at all.

They were more like cobwebs, delicate, waiting to be torn apart, and forever haunting.

A/N. So looking back on this, it's totally out of character and very angsty. I'm actually not even sure if it all came together right in the end. But I hope you liked it and please review!