Voicemails of Valentine's, a high school musical fanfic

A/N: Hi. Caution (hot with noodles): this one shot may or may not induce fits of random emotion, offensive or otherwise.

Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical, its franchise, its characters and kindergarten. I own a crusted twinkie and this plot, and I adore biracial babies.

Read. Laugh. Enjoy.

Voicemails of Valentine's.

Two years ago…

"El-lo, world! My bubbly butt and I are off to see the Wizard. Yeah, I'm kinda lost, too-" Insert pause here. "-and so is my toothbrush?! Damnit, just leave a message when the Man says so." In a deep, manly voice: "The Man's here and he's telling you to leave a message, fool." BEEP!

"Hey, Smiley Face, it's your delicious ham and cheese sandwich talking to his favorite Subway combo. It's Troy Bolton in the hizz-house, BOOYAH!" Clears throat. "Anyway, just wanna greet my wifey a Happy Valentine's, and I'll see you when I get home. Love you."

"Is it me, or is your voicemail greeting the shit?" Pause. "Yeah, it's the shit, and it always have been and always will be. Anyhoo... GABSTER! Did Troy tell you that he got me in jail?! Tell your husband that it's not supposed to be funny when you're locking up your best friend in a kiddie playhouse." Awkward pause. "What? I didn't have a decent childhood, thanks to your whipped sperm donor. Oh, and Happy V Day." Giggles. "That's what she said."

"Ugh, Chad's fat ass got stuck in the kiddie playhouse again." Content pause. "You know, I can make a racist remark about that but then I'd be also offending Zeke. Yup, those anger management classes have been doing wonders for my skin, and it doesn't really hurt that my outfits have always seemed to match the coordinator's clipboards. Either I'm reading way too much into this, or Zeke's been sending pictures of my knickers to, uhh, people who are not beneath me. I mean that in a good way, of course, I mean, you told Troy, right?" Pause. "Yeah, thought so, too. But nevermind that, I'll see you tomorrow and we'll gossip like naughty, little school girls. Yippee! Love ya, Gabs. Happy Everyone-Loves-Me Day!"

"As much as I looove my work and Broadway, I need to get laaaid. Fast. I'm soo glad some single people are desperate enough to have pretend passionate sex with a random someone, because I'm in my condo boning Ryan's brains out." Silence. "Well, not right now, of course, we're taking a break. Geez, how awkward would that be?"

In high pitch voice: "Oooh, Ryan, you big stud muffin. Come and eat my snickerdoodles." Back to normal, or something like it: "Can you imagine us sharing a cigarette? Nevermind, sex makes me stupid and shit just pours out like wine."

Male voice interrupts: "Uhh, Kelsi meant to say that she wishes you a Happy Valentine's Day and that she's sorry she's kinda drunk right now." Pause. "No, I did not take advantage of her. She-"

Husky, feminine voice: "-raped him like the Easter Bunny on crack. Hol-!" BEEP!

"Just the person I wanted to leave a voicemail for. I know you're busy, but I'll just leave this short and quick. I'm pregnant, I know, crazy shit, and I shouldn't really do this over the phone, but I just need to tell someone or something-I did awhile ago to a telephone pole-before I explode." Silence.

"Yeah, Martha's the father." Confused silence.

"Wait, what the hell am I saying? No, Martha's the father and I'm the father. No, no, no, no, no. God, Cross, what did you smoke today? Anyway, you've always been there for me so I might as well share this with you first... Uh huh, Martha doesn't even know. Crazy, right? Happy St. V Day, Gabs!"

"Little G, it's Big Z. I think you should sit down for this." Sigh. "Are you sitting down, cuz I don't know how you'll react to this when I tell you." Another sigh.

"Kay, remember a couple of summers back when you lost your favorite pair of heels. Well, someone stole them... It was Troy. I'm sorry, do you want me to kick his ass cuz you know I'd do anything for you, except leave Sharpay. And I don't really want to cheat on her... unless..." Abrupt silence.

"April Fool's Day! Gotcha!" Pause. "Why does that not seem like the right thing to do? Is it guilt or is it..." Scuffling of paper.

"... Valentine's Day?" Pause.

"Damn, no wonder Sharpay broke my spatula. I thought she did it on accident, I mean, she'd never do that to hurt me, right? Happy Valentine's Day, Little G. Well, I'm definitely not getting any cupcakes tonight. Maybe if I wear something sparkl-" BEEP!

"I think Jason's hiding something from me. He's acting very strange, but then again, Valentine's Day-Happy St. Valentine's Day, Gabriella-does strange things to people. Like the time Taylor dry heaved when Chad had proposed to her. Or the time that Kelsi wanted to have sex in public with Ryan. And remember that time when Troy and Zeke walked in on you and Sharpay comparing each other's breasts? Yeah, good times, good times. But that's not what I really want to rant about, you see, I kinda hoped that you'd keep this a secret for awhile, or until someone finds out." Deep breath.

"I'm pregnant. Two weeks. It's scary, and I don't know how to tell Jason because obviously, he just doesn't seem like the type to smell dirty diapers and drink baby milk." Scream.

Male voice in background: "I sooo can smell dirty diapers and drink baby milk."

Female voice: "But that doesn't mean you'll be good at it, or even like it!"

Frustrated, male voice: "Martha, listen to yourself." Pause. "Nevermind, you're not talking. But I can so love this baby and raise it with you and try to be the best father I can be." Pause. "Yeah, I'm awesome, and I love you. And since we're pregnant, everything's fuckin' awesome!"

Easy silence.

Flat female voice: "Gabs, I'm going to have desperate sex with my husband now. Goodbye."

"Gabriella, it's Taylor. I'm in the middle of nowhere... seriously, this restaurant is called 'The Middle of Nowhere.' This is Chad's idea of a romantic Valentine's Day, and maybe I'm used to it or whatever, but this is by far the best date of my life, and I'm not even married, yet. I can't wait to tell you the details, because sharing such intimate details should not be left on voicemail recordings." Pause.

"Thank you for the life lesson, bestie friend of mine." Giggles.

"I love you, Gabby. See you tomorrow with Miss Sprinkles and Tea."

Present time.

"Hello, Mrs. Bolton, I love how your phone can hold thousands of messages without self-destructing itself." Weak chuckle. "Today sucked. Sharpay pushed me into another blind date, and I don't know. It just never feels right, like it has so many times before." Defeated silence.

"To be honest, I don't leave voicemails to pay for a bill with your name under it. I leave voicemails so I can smile whenever I hear your voice in your greeting. It's always going to be your voice that I hear after I tuck our kids in and before I go to sleep. It's always going to be your voice that reminds me of high school and college and the last years of our lives together. It's always going to be your voice when I think of kindergarten." Defeated sigh.

"I don't want to lose anymore of you as I have months ago. I'm not that strong. So just promise me that you're alright, that's you're fine with this, because baby, I'm fine with what I have, even if it means paying for a ridiculously high cell phone bill and raising our children as a single parent, I'll do it. I'll do it all just to hear your voice again." Heart breaking.

"Smiley Face, I love you, and nothing's ever going to change that. I'll call you in the morning, baby. Sweet dreams." Click.

Two years ago...

"You're growing tired. Your eyelids are getting heavy. You feel very sleepy now. You are gradually losing your willpower and your ability to resist suggestions. When you hear the tone you will feel helplessly compelled to leave your name, number, and a message. Oh, and Gabriella? We produce beautiful spawns, don't we?" BEEP!

"Babe, if that's your way of insinuating sex, it's pretty pathetic. But if you make it up with tacos and jelly beans, I'll reconsider and have more children with you. In fact, I have a little surprise for you." Insert smile here. "I know I should wait until we're in person to talk but I've never done this on the phone before so here it is: I'm pregnant!" Laughs whole-heartedly.

"Isn't that awesome? Well, it should be, I mean, it's freaking Valentine's Day. I think it's another boy. Oohhh, I cannot wait to tell the girls this when we go shopping tom-HONKHONK!" Tires squealing. Pedestrians screaming. Metal colliding.

Dial tone. Dial tone. Dial tone.

"We're sorry, but the number you have reached is not in service at this time. Please check the number, or try your call again."