Summary: Sharpay's jealousy of Kelsi brings on a difficult but necessary conversation between her and Ryan. Ryan/Sharpay-Rypay.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
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Their parents were gone. Not out of town, just out on the town. There was no live-in staff. The big house was empty, except for the two of them.
Their rooms were so large as to be both across the hall from one another and adjoining. They stood in their door frames, opposite each other, in their sleeping clothes (her a pink, lacy night gown; him, blue and white plaid pajama pants and a white tee shirt), leaning against their respective jambs with their arms crossed, staring at each other.
Sharpay didn't normally go this long without speaking, but the conversation they were about to have could go a number of different directions; how it began was important. Whatever happened, they both knew they needed to have a talk.
It was all over. Prom, the spring musical, and graduation had flown by like they were one, and between senior this and senior that, studying for finals, hair appointments, dress fittings, and sleep, the two of them had barely said a word to one another.
This was the first moment of calm, of peace. It was all over. High school was over. And, relatively friendless no matter what words they had sung, the Evans' twins figured that this summer, like most summers past, would not involve their (former) school "chums". Even Ryan knew that beyond a party here and there, and maybe an impromptu baseball game or two, he probably wouldn't see them much.
Sharpay's two – yes, you can count them, on less than half of one hand – moments of recognition of her brother as having achieved something greater than her – that is to say, her presentation to him of the Star Dazzle award, and her hugging him after the announcement that he had been accepted by Julliard – had been decidedly public. They had been genuine, but they had been fleeting. The smiles and hugs of those two moments were gone, and the sentiments along with them. Sharpay wasn't happy for him anymore – she wasn't "OK" with it. At least, that's what he figured, given her. And given her expression right now, which was serious. Not her normal "I'm-all-business" serious, but an apprehensive serious, an almost introspective serious.
She swallowed, and what she said next was the last thing he had expected to hear from her: "I know I was the one who told you to take Kelsi to the prom, but I was jealous when I saw the two of you there together."
She was gnawing on her bottom lip and taping her toe, so he knew that she was feeling vulnerable, and therefore that she must be telling the truth.
He blinked subtly. Ryan hoped she hadn't noticed that he'd been taken aback, because he was going to try and play it cool: "You didn't show it." And I was watching, he thought.
"Do I ever show it? If it's real?" she posed rhetorically.
This statement contrasted ironically with her current behavior. "Maybe not to them. But to me?"
"Well, recently, you haven't been the confidant you used to be." She began saying this with a dark, accusatory anger, but she ended the sentence on a wistful nostalgia.
He began to say something, and it looked like a denial, but she held up her hand. "So, you and Kelsi? Are you seeing each other?"
"It wasn't much of anything, and what it was is over. Anyway, it's not like we could have gone together – you and me. To prom." It had seemed to him almost natural that they would go together, but without discussing it they had both known that they couldn't…even if it might have been their preference.
"No…of course not."
"I went with Kelsi, and you went with Zeke. It was what it was."
"And they're who we danced with in the play. The prom sequence. You choreographed it that way."
"Everyone danced with their date to prom: that's just how it was organized."
"Before you'd even asked her?"
Ryan was tired of getting the third degree. He shrugged in frustration. "We couldn't dance together in a number about prom, just like we couldn't go together to prom."
"That sort of thing didn't bother you last year." She tilted her head. "What changed?"
He felt his face flush. "Noth-nothing." He recovered his sangfroid. "Besides, you wanted to dance with Zeke, you as much as said so. And I was wooing Kelsi – at your behest, if you'll recall. It all worked out."
"Yes, it all worked out," she muttered bitterly. "It looked like you had a nice time. At the prom."
He knew she was baiting him, whatever her reason, and he wasn't going to be contemptuous of her method while still responding to her query. This effort devolved into a sigh and some quickly spoken words: "We did, but-"
"But what, Ryan?"
"I was just doing what you told me to."
"You did part of what I told you to do."
"I couldn't-
She stopped his answer and took a different track; it was possible she didn't want to hear what he was about to say, not because she was apathetic, but because she was afraid. Her calm demeanor was deteriorating into a nervous tension that she was having increasing difficulty hiding. He pretended not to notice.
"You'll be at Juilliard together."
"It'll be nice to know someone."
"Yes," she said quietly. "The two of you can work together. Rehearse."
Ryan rolled his eyes, but her jealousy was quite touching. "She's not a performer, Shar. Her place at Juillard, or at my side for that matter, are not at your expense."
Sharpay leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling. When she sniffled, Ryan knew she was trying to hold back tears. "You deserve to go to Juilliard. So does she."
"So do you," Ryan said quickly, and he meant it. "If I'm any good, it's because of you. You were the one pushing me to be better. I had to be good to help you look good," he added, offsetting the honesty of the first part of his statement with a dash of cynicism.
"And don't forget," she reminded him harshly, "I'm the only reason you started dancing in the first place."
It was true. Sharpay had begged their mother for dance lessons when they were six, and had gotten her way easily. When Ryan learned that he and Sharpay were to be apart while she had her classes, he very quickly decided that he wanted to dance too. And now he was going to Julliard to study choreography.
She smiled weakly, distantly. "University of Albuquerque…"
He took a step forward, knocking her out of her trance and bringing her eyes to him. "You said that when you got into Juilliard, they'd have to let me in, because we're twins. I'm not actually an idiot, you know. I was just a stepping stone. You never planned on taking me with you."
She stepped forward as well. She put her hand on his cheek, instantly softening his indignation. "Maybe not to Juilliard. I mean yes, if I could, of course yes. But certainly after. Ryan, I don't see my future without you." She shook slowly her head for emphasis.
She hadn't removed her hand: they were so close…
Ryan covered her hand with his, closed his eyes, and turned his face into her palm. "Do you mean that?"
"I've figured it out: it's not Sharpay Evans. It's Ryan and Sharpay Evans."
"When did you figure this out?"
"I'm figuring it out a little more every day."
He used the hand that covered hers to guide hers into his hair, thereby sliding the underside of her forearm across his lips.
She was shaking.
He put his free hand around her waist and yanked her against his chest. "We might have saved ourselves a lot of drama if you had just figured this out a little earlier. We could have had a whole lot less Troy and Gabriella in our lives."
She laughed. "I know, I know. I was proud, and pig-headed, and foolish, and cowardly, and-"
"Stop talking," he ordered, covering her mouth with his and effectively putting an end to her self-deprecating discourse.
They were breathless when he pulled away.
"What are we doing?" she demanded, gasping for air.
He was tempted to tell her to stop talking again, but he didn't. "It's all been moving towards this – always - we just couldn't see it. Everything that's happened – it's brought us here."
"And come this fall?"
"I don't know. But I do know that it's going to be you and me." He interlocked the fingers of their already joined hands and looked into her uncertain eyes. "There's just one future for us: our future."
"And this?" she whispered, touching his lips with her fingertips, and watching herself do it with undisguised lust. She blinked hard and then looked up into his eyes for reassurance.
He shook his head. "I don't know. I just know it's what I want."
She nodded. "Me too."