A/N: Let me know what you think! Is it worth continuing?
"What game are we playing today, Gabs?"
She grinned devilishly at him. "The celebrity numberplate game."
"What?"
"We look at the numberplates of cars and we find two letters next to each other. Then we list as many celebrities as we can with those initials. Whoever thinks of the most wins."
"Don't you think you're at a slight advantage? You know, seeing as I don't spend my weekends watching E! News?"
She slapped him lightly on the arm, giggling. "Troy! I don't watch E! I watch TMZ. Ooh, there's one!" She pointed to a numberplate on a passing car. "Initials are J.M. Go! Jesse McCartney, James McAvoy," she began.
"John Mayer."
"Jenny McCarthy"
"John McCain."
"Jemma McKenzie-Brown."
"Justin Martin."
After they'd paused for a few moments, Gabriella spoke up. "So I guess whoever thinks of the next one wins."
"Guess so."
As she racked her brains for another celebrity, Gabriella glanced at her best friend sitting in the driver's seat and found her thoughts wandering. They'd been best friends for almost three years; ever since Gabriella had moved to Albuquerque in their freshman year of high school. Upset by her father's death and alone at her new school, she'd dropped her books in the middle of the hallway on her first day and had been about to cry with frustration until Troy had dropped to his knees and picked up her books, introducing himself and offering to walk her to homeroom.
She'd always been attracted to him, even on that first day of the second semester of freshman year when he'd had braces and an acne-ridden face- it wasn't terrible, he still looked gorgeous, but it was actively present. One of the things that she loved about him was that she knew his popularity hadn't spawned from his looks; he'd always been the 'nice guy' first and foremost. The part when he had evolved into the hottest guy in school had come later, two thirds of the way through their sophomore year, and even now, in their senior and final year of high school, she still found herself wanting to run her hands through his hair and kiss his soft-looking lips.
It didn't help that they were affectionate with each other. Although some people found it strange- they were, after all, best friends- they'd always held hands when walking, always hugged tightly and kissed each other on the cheek when they departed from each other's company, and sometimes, if he was feeling particularly playful, Troy would steal a quick kiss from her. Every time he did that, Gabriella found herself craving more. She wanted to turn the pecks into passionate kisses, embrace him, run her hands down his muscular chest-
"Joel Madden."
"What?" Gabriella asked, confused at the prospect of a statement which had absolutely nothing to do with her daydream.
"I won. Joel Madden. JM," Troy proclaimed triumphantly. "Which means that you have to buy the ice cream tonight."
Ice cream was another of their rituals- though Troy drove her to school every day, they only played games on Fridays. Whoever lost had to buy a tub of chocolate ice cream which would then be taken to Troy's room and the two of them would lie curled up in each other's arms and share it while they watched a movie.
Gabriella had been practically bursting to tell Troy that she had a crush on him for years. There were only two reasons she hadn't. The first was Troy himself; although she wanted them to be a couple, Gabriella was constantly fretting over the thought of ruining her friendship with Troy if he didn't like her back. The other was a more recent problem- recent meaning six months. Gabriella had been scanning the notices on the school activities board and had caught sight of a piece of paper sticking out from behind a photo. The note had been typed on a computer and had simply read, hey. Just feel like talking. If you see this, reply, and had been dated two days before. She'd replied to the note- typing it up on the computer in the school lab and tucking it behind the same image as she'd found the note. She'd checked it the next day and had found a reply
Gabriella was drawn to the mysterious letter writer- she didn't know much about him; not even his name- the two of them had decided not to tell each other, but she admired his writing style and his personality.
Her thoughts were disturbed by the hand waving in front of her face. "Brie? You in there? Hello?"
She swatted his arm away playfully. "Stop it! I'm just thinking. Walk me to my locker?" she asked, changing the subject.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, I have to go somewhere. Meet you in homeroom?"
"Sure," she replied, raising her eyebrows with curiosity.
Making his way past the gym, being careful to avoid the stares he was sure were coming from the junior girls' volleyball team, Troy arrived at the activities noticeboard, pulling a small envelope from his pocket before removing another envelope from behind a familiar picture- one of Gabriella and himself after the Wildcats had won the championship in his sophomore year- and replacing it with his envelope. He gazed at the picture for a while, knowing deep down but not wanting to admit that he'd chosen that picture specifically to put his first note behind, loving the fact that he'd get to look at Gabriella's beautiful face while checking to see if anyone had replied to his letter. The truth was that he had fallen for her, but was too scared to bring the subject up with her.
Tearing his eyes away from the photo, he glanced at the envelope in his hand, and then back at the photo of himself and Gabriella. Who to pick; Gabriella or the witty, wise letter writer? He knew he had strong feelings for them both; he just had to figure out which feelings were stronger.
Glancing back down at the letter, he caught sight of his watch and realised that he was going to be late to homeroom if he didn't start walking, choosing to read the letter later; stuffing it into his pocket. On the way to class, he gazed meaningfully at every girl who passed him by, wondering if one of them was his writer.
"Oh my gosh! Troy Bolton just looked at me!" he heard a freshman squealing. "Should I go and talk to him? Do you think he likes me? I have no idea what to do!"
Shaking his head in amusement, Troy continued down the hallway. He didn't think any of the skater-girls or 'nerds' were the letter writer, but he wasn't so sure about the cheerleaders. Despite their reputation, he knew a few of them quite well and they weren't as stupid as everyone made them out to be.
Upon spotting Troy, Llana, the head cheerleader, headed in his direction.
"Hey, Troy," she said flirtatiously, flicking her hair. "Late for class?"
"Uh, yeah, kinda."
"I saw you looking at me."
"What?"
"You know, I saw you checking me out just then," Llana attempted.
Troy held back a laugh. "Oh. Well, see you later," he said, pushing past her and walking forward.
The junior class in homeroom 22 witnessed quite a scene as their Wildcat champion, the most popular guy in school, came face-to-face with the school's biggest diva right outside their doorway. Well, face-to-hand; her manicured hand slapped him directly across the face.
"Bolton! Who do you think you are, checking me out like that?" Sharpay shrilled indignantly. "I'm the most desired woman in school, one lustful look at me isn't going to make me want you! Now, we have to go to homeroom in a minute. Luckily for you I'm going to pretend this didn't happen!" And off she went into homeroom.
"Attention!" Ms Darbus called to her homeroom class. "Due to scheduling conflicts, the auditions for the winter musicale have been pushed up to Monday. So I hope to see you all there, I do," she continued.
Taylor raised her hand.
"Yes, Ms McKessie?"
"On behalf of the student board, I'd like to make an announcement. We'll be holding a winter dance at the end of January for the senior year of East High. All ticket proceeds will be going to charity- we'd love your input on that. You can purchase tickets from the office at lunchtimes or before school."
"Thank you, Ms McKessie. You can sign up for musicale auditions in the usual spot, opposite the Wildcat sculpture," Ms Darbus reminded the class, bringing the topic back to her beloved musical.
"So, want to sign up for the musical auditions?" Gabriella asked Troy during their free period. "Please?"
He sighed. "Only for you, Brie. Only for you."
She squealed, hugging him tightly. "Thank you!"
"I'll go put our names on the sign-up sheet," he relied reluctantly.
Gabriella watched him go, and, hit with sudden inspiration, quickly headed to the computer lab to type out a quick message.
Hey,
So I signed up for the musical. You should do it too, it'll be fun. I don't know if you can sing, dance or act but you could always work behind the scenes?
She printed the note, hurrying to the noticeboard, happily collecting the envelope tucked away behind the photo and replacing it with her message.
"Why are you getting so angry at me?! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"You've been yelling at me since lunch started!"
"I wouldn't be yelling at you if you hadn't of cheated on me!"
"I was drunk! It didn't mean anything!"
"Please. What kind of person gets drunk on a Thursday night?"
The sounds greeted Gabriella as she slipped into her usual spot at their table in the cafeteria next to Troy, quickly hugging him and murmuring in his ear, "what are they fighting about?"
Troy shook his head towards Jason and Kelsi, releasing Gabriella from his arms. "Just the usual drama."
"Okay, you two! Shut up! I'm about to eat and, as you all know, I like to concentrate when I'm eating," Chad reminded the arguing couple, reaching into his paper bag brought from home and pulling out his lunch. Troy's brow furrowed as he noticed a laminated picture fall to the ground. Picking it up, he flipped it over until he could see what it was.
"Dude... why was there a picture of Andre Rieu in your lunch?" he asked, confused.
Chad almost spat part of his sandwich onto the ground. "What?" He was confused for a moment until he figured out why it was there. "Oh, it was in the fridge. My mother, like, loves him now. Her Michael Crawford diet stopped working, so she started a new one."
The group was satisfied, unlike East High's football team who made their way over to the table, sneering at Chad.
"What's up? Can't eat unless you look at a picture of your lover?" one of them jeered. The team surrounded Chad, calling out names.
Troy sighed. It looked like he wasn't the only one with problems.
