This story was written for two reasons. One, because I'm a little tired of reading stories in which Ryan gets his ass kicked day in and day out, when it's pretty clear in the movies that he's somewhere near the top of the food chain in East High. Secondly, because despite what I just said, it'd certainly be more like reality if he was getting hurt. Movies aren't like real life and it's the job of the fans to explain away the flaws and fill up the plot holes with nice, firm cement. Thus this fic was born to explain that yes, there are probably jackasses at East High but no, they don't ever touch Ryan Evans with very good reason.

In any event, enjoy it!

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Bullies were not notorious for assisting each other or helping younger bullies get ahead. They stuck to themselves and privately enjoyed it when another bully was brought to justice. Not because they cared that someone was getting a well earned punishment, but because it taught them who was most likely to tattle, which places were too open, which teachers would stop a fight but nothing more, and which ones would get you suspended. Those were things they needed to know and this way, they didn't have to find out for themselves.

But at East High, there was one thing the older crowd passed on very quickly to younger, up-and-coming tough guys and which, by the end of September every year, had been solidly ingrained in their minds.

Don't ever mess with Ryan Evans.

There were a variety of reasons for it, all of which were pretty damn good. For one, the Evans family had deep pockets and deeper connections, and you were risking a lot more than a suspension if you messed with their son. For another, there was little in life more terrifying than an enraged Sharpay Evans. Sharpay was arguably one of the biggest bullies in school although she was never violent about it, only loud. But that would be dropped very, very quickly if harm came to her twin and just because she wasn't violent normally didn't mean she couldn't cause you serious injury.

The latest reason had shown itself in Ryan's senior year. He returned to school in September, apparently having made friends with most of the varsity basketball team. Frankly, nobody was that keen on picking a fight with the bad-tempered and overly fierce Chad Danforth and the 6'3 monstrosity that was Zeke Baylor, both of whom now considered themselves close friends of Ryan Evans. But even if Danforth and Baylor had been 5'2 and harmless as a declawed kitten, they were still on the basketball team. The champion basketball team led by Troy fucking Bolton, the Golden Boy, and more importantly, the coach's son. It was one thing to mess with somebody who had dangerous friends. It was another thing entirely to mess with somebody who had the backing of a teacher's son.

But while all of these reasons were extremely good reasons, and while all of them alone would have been enough to let Evans be, they weren't the real reason that nobody picked on Ryan Evans. The real reason was something that none of them liked admitting. Something they avoided mentioning unless they absolutely had to. But they did have to, they had to warn the new crowd.

So when September rolled around and all the freshmen tough guys had shown their faces (and gotten their licks), they were told East High's biggest secret : Ryan Evans was a scrappy little bastard who would kick their collective asses six ways from Sunday. He was tough, but that wasn't actually the problem. It was that he didn't know when to give in. He didn't care if he was losing, if you were picking a fight with him then you were going to get hurt.

It had been a hard lesson to learn for most of them. Ryan was a short, gentle, and quiet drama geek, who was very definition of flaming, and who had very few friends besides an even smaller and quieter pianist and his own twin sister. The perfect target. Even the threat of his parents or worse, his sister, could not stop the school bullies from wanting to give him a beat down. And in his freshmen year, they had certainly tried.

The first one to step up had been Derek Black. He'd figured that a scrawny guy like Ryan couldn't put up a fight and saw no reason to bring back up. Black cornered him after school and well... His face had told the story the next day. A black eye, a few missing teeth, and plenty of bruises to show for it. All Ryan had to show for it was a broken nose and bloody knuckles. Well, that and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Adrian Marhouse, Colby Grant, and Jacob Wheeler had tried next. Technically they won in the sense that they were the ones who walked away at the end. But Wheeler ended up on crutches and limped for months afterwards, and Marhouse would never lose that scar. Grant was less permanently injured, but he was certainly feeling it for the next week or two. And the mere fact that any of them had gotten hurt at all, much less as badly as they had, spoke wonders about Ryan's sheer ferocity. Wheeler and Marhouse both missed school the next day, but Evans showed up just the same as ever cradling a broken arm and a lot of bruises, but no less jaunty and determined.

The last attempt had been by two seniors who were considered to pretty much rule the school. Matthew and Jamie Grayling were football stars and in fact, were the sole reason that the Wildcat football team was worth a damn in the first place. Nobody actually knew what happened, although Ryan re-broke his nose and dislocated his jaw. But nobody knew what injuries the Grayling brothers sustained. They never came back to East High. Humiliated at losing a fight a 2 on 1 fight against a freshman, they both transferred to West High. Which meant that Ryan Evans was arguably the entire reason that Troy Bolton became the school's Golden Boy. The Grayling brothers were the only thing holding the football team up and they never really regained their momentum. So the school turned their attention to the basketball court and found a team that, while not championship material just yet, was still damn good. A year later, they found Troy Bolton and he became the school's new hero. It was kind of novel, having a hero who wasn't a jackass.

In any event, the fights stopped coming and by the time Thanksgiving break rolled around, every tough guy in East High had learned to give Evans a wide berth. The news was passed on from generation to generation of bullies. And as inevitably as the tides, somebody didn't believe them. Or maybe they did believe, and wanted to make their names by tearing down the one kid that nobody had ever been able to drop.

Sophomore year was Michael Davis. Ryan broke three of his ribs. Junior year was Tommy Montero. They had to call 911 when Ryan went to hit his jaw and accidently hit his throat. Senior year? Ah well, that was interesting. In his senior year, he had the basketball team on his side and it'd taken until October for anyone to work up the nerve to mess with him. Adam Carollo had finally dared. He'd gotten off light with a bloody nose, Ryan refusing to do any real harm to someone three years younger than him.

So the bullies grumbled, shook their heads at the waste of talent and strength, and avoided him like the plague. Why were all the tough ones such nice guys?