I had believed Sharpay Evans not capable of becoming any meaner and icier than she already was. I now wish I had never seen how wrong a fellow can be.
Where once everyone had merely made way for Sharpay, they now positively fled in her presence; terrified for their lives. She glowered and anyone who looked her directly in the face and slapped any student who talked to her. If looks could kill, Sharpay would have been convicted of personally murdering every soul in East High.
There is no doubt in my mind why the Ice Queen had turned into the Artic Bitch. I only wish I had not overseen the change personally.
Sharpay popped her gum loudly and smiled flirtatiously at me.
"Thanks for offering me a ride home," she said, curling a blonde curl around her finger. "I would have been stranded for ages if you hadn't been staying late, working your tail off in basketball"
"No problem," I answered shortly, trying to discourage her as much as possible. "I'm not in a hurry to get anywhere"
"But you didn't have to take me home," she insisted. "Which shows real character that you did anyway." She sighed dramatically. "You're such an amazing guy, Troy"
"Thanks," I grumbled.
"You're so very welcome!"
At last the beast shut up when we stopped at a stop at a very busy intersection; it was just the time of day when everyone was coming home from work, so it lengthened the time to get anywhere by at least ten minutes.
"Look at that truck!" she gasped, pointing towards what I noted was a Hummer. I was about to correct her when I actually did see her point. "It must be going seventy miles-an-hour in a fifty-mile zone!"
"Unless it's turning right, it's going to have to stop; its light is red," I pointed out. "And there's way to much traffic to turn right anyways"
The vehicle showed no intention of slowing down, and as it came barreling towards the intersection, I began to get worried.
"What is that guy thinking; he can't possibly make the turn!" I insisted, feeling the blood draining from my face.
To the horror of everyone watching, the Hummer didn't lose a second as it turned right, colliding full-speed with a small, dark blue Jaguar innocently driving on the other side. My mouth was hanging stupidly open in my shock as I watched the tiny car get pummeled on its right side and flip 270 degrees, skidding to a halt on the side of the road.
"Sharpay, call 911, we've got to get that guy out there!" I ordered, my nerves reaching their end. In the meantime, while she was calling, I pulled off the road. Kicking my door open, I sprinted over to the crushed vehicle, and saw a sight that made my stomach flip-flop. The driver was sprawled along the ground, and I saw a bunch of red.
I slowed down as I reached the totaled car and its unmoving driver. That car looked horrifyingly familiar…someone who went to our school drove that car, I was certain of it. When I got closer, my heart skipped a beat as I noted that the guy had shocking blonde hair. Oh no, please no, please no.
I knelt down, dreading seeing who the form was. My heart didn't skip a beat—it stopped altogether when I looked full in the face of Ryan Evans.
"Oh…my…god…" I whispered, shaking. "Ryan, please be breathing, dear Lord, please be breathing." Remembering what I had been taught in lifeguard classes I pressed my index and middle finger against first his wrist and then his neck. I felt no pulse.
"Troy, they're on their—" I never found out what Sharpay had been about to say. She knelt wordlessly next to me, and stretched out a hand to Ryan's limp form, but pulled back before she touched him; almost as if she were afraid. "R-r-ryan?" she whispered, tears flooding her eyes. Sharpay's eyes were so full of terror and helplessness that my own unshed tears fully let loose. "Ryan…stop fooling around, it's me Sharpay." Her eyes hardened. "Stop scaring me, Ryan Anthony Evans; this isn't funny!! Get up this very minute and back home; we have auditions to practice for!!" Slowly, her orders turned into sobs. "We have auditions to practice for," she bawled. "Don't leave me, please don't leave me, Ryan! YOU CAN'T QUIT ON ME, YOU JUST CAN'T!"
"Sharpay, there's no pulse," I managed to choke out.
"No, shut up, Ryan is fine, he's just playing games. Get up, Ryan; open your eyes!" She violently shook his body, scaring me. "OPEN YOUR EYES, RYAN; GET UP! GET UP! DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!!!!!!!!" I heard the siren of the ambulance approaching.
"Sharpay—" I touched her arm gently, but she threw my hand off.
"DON'T TOUCH ME; I HAVE TO WAKE RYAN UP! RYAN, RYAN, DON'T LEAVE ME! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME TO FEND BY MYSELF, ALL ALONE IN THIS CRAP WOLRD! RYAN!!!!! RYAN!" The nurses and doctors rushed to scene and knelt down next to us. Sharpay continued to scream at Ryan, her shoulders vibrating uncontrollably. She only stopped when the nurse finished her checking of the body and turned sadly to Sharpay.
"I'm sorry, darling…he's dead"
Sharpay stared at her, and then slowly began to shake her head. "No…no…you're lying! STOP LYING TO ME! RYAN CAN'T BE DEAD! HE PROMISED HE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME! RYAN, SHOW THEM YOU'RE ALRIGHT…SPEAK TO ME!"
No one could talk sense into Sharpay. She kept on sobbing, screaming, "DON'T LEAVE ME, RYAN! DEAR JESUS, DON'T LEAVE ME! I WON'T LET YOU!" The hospital workers pulled the litter down next to Ryan and raised their hands to lift the lifeless body onto it. "DON'T TAKE MY TWIN AWAY—DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM! HE'S STILL ALIVE! HE WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME! I CAN'T SURVIVE WITHOUT HIM!" I dragged Sharpay away from Ryan's body, crying the hardest I had in my life.
"Sharpay, you have to let him go! Let him go!"
"NO!!!!!!!" she screamed, flailing wildly against my strong grip. "RYAN…RYAN!!!!My Ryan," she bawled, and I felt her resistance slipping. Sharpay Evans—the Ice Princess—fell to pieces in my arms, crying hysterically into my shoulder on the side of the Interstate, shaking from head to toe as her dead twin brother was borne away from his crumpled car to the waiting ambulance.
I had never seen Sharpay smile ever since that day. Hatred poured from every pore; hatred of the driver who killed her brother, hatred of the world which no longer had her brother in it, and hatred of life which her brother no longer possessed. She took out her hatred on everyone around her; her Ryan would never walk the hallways of East High again.
The whole school took the blow very hard; especially Darbus. She never called on Sharpay, which was all for the best, for Sharpay would not have spoken back at any rate.
Five months after Ryan's death, I walked into the auditorium to find Sharpay sitting by herself on the piano, staring rigidly ahead of her. I turned to leave to the room, but the gentle plinking of piano keys stayed my feet. I recognized the tune…
I believe in dreamin';
Shooting for the stars.
Baby, to be number one,
You've got to raise the bar.
Kickin' and a-scratchin',
Grindin' out my best;
Anything it takes to climb
The ladder of success.
She stopped playing, and slowly began to cry. I walked softly up onto the stage and reached out a hand to touch her. Sharpay felt my presence and suddenly jerked away.
"What do you want, Bolton," she spat, hastily wiping away tears and glaring daggers at me.
I knew now was not a time to speak. I just walked slowly over to her, and was glad to see that she didn't back away. Wordlessly, I enveloped her in my arms. She automatically stiffened, but as I didn't let go, gradually relaxed, burying her face into my chest.
"No one can ever bring back Ryan," I whispered gently; knowing the right words to say for once in my life. "He was the nicest, sweetest fellow in East High; but he's out of this stupid world now…in a place far more worthy of him." She didn't move a muscle; she was listening intently. "You were the best sister he could ever have had; and he loved you with all of his heart. Ryan will never, ever be forgotten, because he lives on—through you, Sharpay"
At first I thought I had said something wrong, for she raised her head, and her expression didn't change at all. But then a lone, salty tear slid out of one eye, and then the other. Neither of us spoke a word—we understood one another completely. I embraced her again, and she sobbed freely onto my waiting shoulder.
Ever since then, things have been different between me and Sharpay Evans. What I confided in her by the piano that day was the most we ever spoke to one another. Every Saturday, without exception, we would both arrive at the Albuquerque Cemetery and walk together over to a tombstone in the far back corner and each place a yellow rose upon the grave.
Ryan Anthony Evans
1990 – 2007
Beloved Twin Brother, Son, and Friend
His Song Will Never Die
What did you think? Sorry about the year weirdness before; my brain was turned off