This is my first HSM fic, be nice, please. :)

Chapter One
- - - - - - - - - -

"I hate living like this."

Sharpay Evans threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her arms. Normally she wouldn't want to sit around in her work uniform, but she'd had a long evening and just didn't have the energy to change into something more comfortable. Her brother, Ryan, looked up from the homework he was doing on his bed, and he studied her in silence for a moment or two.

After what felt like an eternity, she raised her head, side-glancing him. Some of her blond hair had come loose from the ponytail, curling around her face and falling over her eyes slightly. The dark circles under her eyes gave hints at the stress she was under, and her bottom lip was slightly cracked from all of the nervous biting she'd been doing.

"Me too," Ryan said quietly, lowering his gaze.

"You know," she continued, rolling onto her back and glaring daggers at the ceiling, "We aren't even supposed to share a room. It's like...against the law or something because of how old we are."

"It's a stupid law anyway," Ryan said.

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "It's not like I hate being roommates with you," she said. "I just hate...being poor!"

She spit out the last word so harshly that Ryan winced. She pretended not to notice, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. The Evans family had definitely seen better times, that was for sure. Sharpay could remember when she and Ryan were little, they'd lived in a nice-sized house with a nice car -- that Sharpay could've had anything she wanted. This Sharpay could barely even afford to keep up with her cell phone bill.

Much less have her own convertible. She could see it now in her mind, pink of course, maybe with white detail -- it would be perfect. Of course, it would never happen. Especially not if she continued to work at Happy Burger for the rest of her life.

She groaned under her breath, throwing an arm over her eyes. Ever since she'd turned fifteen, she'd been working at that greasy fast food joint -- the paychecks were barely anything, not enough for her to have her own bank account, and most of it she just turned over to her parents so they'd be able to pay for groceries for the house. Ryan was a cashier at the gas station just down the street from their house, and that obviously wasn't a grand paying job.

Things were just rough all over.

"Did you do the History essay yet?" Ryan's voice brought her out of her self-pity.

She moved her arm, turning her head to look at him. "What?" she asked.

Ryan raised his eyebrows just slightly. "The essay," he said slowly, "You didn't forget about it, did you Shar? It's due tomorrow!"

She let out another noise in the back of her throat, a growl mixed with a moan. "Oh this is just what I need!" she exclaimed, before pushing herself up out of bed.

She all but flew across the room, picking up her backpack from where she'd dropped it when she'd gotten home from school, and Ryan watched her as she went to their shared desk. As she flopped down in the creaky chair, yanking her books out of the bag, she contemplated taking a shower first -- she could all but smell the fry oil lingering on her shirt.

"I'm almost done mine," Ryan said, "You can just paraphrase if you want."

"Yeah right," Sharpay scoffed. "Remember the last time I did that?"

Ryan fell silent, and Sharpay paused. With a sigh that moved her entire body, she pushed the chair back and stood up again.

"I'm gonna take a shower first," she said. "I'll just...wing it or something when I come back."

Ryan nodded, not saying anything, and Sharpay practically ran from the room. As she was moving down the hall of the one-level house they lived in, she pretended not to hear her parents arguing in their bedroom -- they always seemed to fight anymore, and it was usually about money, or their lack thereof.

Her shower took a little longer than she'd meant it to, and when she made it back to her and Ryan's room, he was already finished with his homework, and was currently flicking through a magazine. He gave her one of his small brotherly smiles when she entered, the one that made her smile no matter what, and she realized she was feeling a little better than she'd been before.

When she sat down at their desk again to start her essay, she was a little more relaxed, and it was definitely easier to begin writing.

"I'm going to bed," Ryan said a little while later.

Sharpay glanced at their clock, eyes widening at how late it really was, and then she looked over her shoulder. Ryan wasn't even bothering to climb beneath the covers, curling up on his side on top of them.

"Want the light off?" she asked.

"Nope," he answered simply with a yawn.

She watched him for a moment or two longer, then turned back around. Sometimes it seemed like Ryan was just happy for the sake of being happy -- she wished she could be as optimistic as he normally was. With a yawn of her own, Sharpay went back to writing about the Battle of Bunker Hill.

It took her a little over an hour to get a report that was okay -- definitely not an A plus or anything, but it was passing. Shoving her things back into her bag -- quietly, of course -- she rubbed at her face with both hands as she stood up. Clicking off the light, she hopped into bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin and gazing at the dark ceiling.

Of course, he came to mind. He always came to mind before she went to bed -- it was the only time of day when she couldn't busy herself with other things.

He being Troy Bolton of course. The most popular boy at school. Good-looking, smart, funny -- rich. He was East High's very own prince. His father was the head coach at the school, which meant Troy was all about sports. But he'd proved the year before that there was more than meets the eye, when he'd auditioned for one of the school musicals.

Enter Gabriella Montez. The luckiest girl at school, his girlfriend.

Sharpay frowned in the darkness. Gabriella was smart -- she probably wouldn't have had trouble writing about the stupid Battle of stupid Bunker Hill -- she had a wealthy mother -- so no working at Happy Burger for her. Sharpay hated being jealous of anyone, but she just couldn't help but envy the other girl.

Ryan let out a sleepy noise from beside her, and she turned to look at him again. All he did was roll over, mumbling something in his slumber. A small smile replaced Sharpay's frown, and she closed her eyes. She might not have had the latest in fashion, the coolest in technology, or the cutest of boyfriends, but at least she had her brother.

She could always work on the other things in the future.

Someday.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Ew, this sucks."

Sharpay side-glanced Ryan as they sat, side-by-side on the bus the next morning. He was currently cringing and holding his hand out in front of him, and she gasped at the wad of pink on the tips of his fingers. He'd apparently just put his hand in some chewed-up gum someone had left for them.

"Ugh," she said as he scraped the gum onto the back of the seat in front of them. "I loathe riding the bus."

"Oh come on," Ryan said, shrugging slightly. "It's not all bad. It's fun when we go over bumps."

Sharpay rolled her eyes, looking wryly at him. He gave her a little smile, then turned to the person behind them, asking them if they had hand sanitizer. She had to grin at that, and she went back to gazing out the window. She could just barely see a ghost of her reflection in the glass, and she couldn't help but stare at herself.

She thought she was pretty -- well, she worked hard to look it, at least. Her hair fell in soft waves about her shoulders, some of it pulled back with a small clip. She'd gone for just a little eye make-up this morning, and her dress, though from one of those generic department stores, looked like those she'd seen in the windows of the expensive shops in the city. Sometimes she got lucky and was able to find something cute in her price range.

But she always had a fear in the pit of her stomach that someone would notice and point it out. Her worst nightmare was everyone finding out she was poor -- she shuddered to think about it.

"You okay?" Ryan's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She realized she must've really shuddered, and she quickly nodded. "Fine," she said. "Just wish we could get to school already so the day could go by."

"You are so not a morning person," Ryan said.

"I don't see how you are," she said.

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face the front. Her gaze moved over the hat he was wearing -- he'd worn that one the day before. He shared her interest in fashion, you see, which meant he too had to worry about finding the cheapest models of the coolest clothes. He had a thing for hats though, and rarely did he find one he liked that he could afford.

She hated when he had to wear the same one twice in a row. At least wear a different one every day, she thought.

As the bus pulled to a stop at the curb outside of East High, Sharpay was quick to stand up. Ryan looked up at her, then followed suit -- she gave him a slight nudge to get out of the seat, and the two ended up being first to get off the bus. They made their way across the front courtyard, and Sharpay raised her chin some -- in middle school, she'd learned that attitude was everything. She might not have had money, but she had dignity.

"Do you work tonight?" Ryan asked her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his knock-off designer pants.

"Yes," she answered dryly, "Tonight and tomorrow night. I'm off for the weekend though -- told my boss I have a family thing."

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but the two were rudely interrupted when one of the basketball players all but ripped them apart, running between them to catch up with his friends, and in the process, making Sharpay drop the books she'd been holding. She recognized the jock as Chad Danforth, and she glared icily at his retreating back.

"Jerk!" she spat out, despite the fact that she knew he couldn't hear her.

Her and Ryan both crouched to gather her fallen stuff, and suddenly there was a third person. Sharpay started to snap at them, tell them that she and Ryan didn't need their help, but they spoke and she realized it was him.

"Sorry about that," Troy Bolton -- the Troy Bolton -- was neatly gathering some papers, stacking them for her. "Sometimes the team can get a little...well, wild." He grinned cheekily at his own joke about the Wildcats.

Sharpay surprised herself, and it was obvious by Ryan's expression that she surprised him too -- she giggled like a little girl at Troy's words. His grin was dazzling, and as he passed her her things, their fingers brushed just barely -- she almost melted.

"It happens," she said as the three of them straightened once more. "Just wish I could have that kind of energy this early."

Troy laughed, nodding -- he was laughing at her joke -- and he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. "Definitely," he said. "Hey, did you write the History essay?"

Sharpay would have to figure out what was so special about the essay that everyone was asking about it. She nodded, making a slight face.

"Just barely," she answered.

He made his own face. "I didn't," he answered simply. "I might do it at lunch or something -- just didn't feel like writing it, you know?"

She nodded, but really she couldn't comprehend anything but the fact that Troy was carrying on a conversation with her. Almost as if he wanted to talk to her. Oh, her diary was going to be on fire tonight.

Troy paused slightly, then smiled again. "I guess I'll see you later," he said. He raised his eyebrows, "Sharpay, right?"

The sound of her name leaving his lips made her feel ten kinds of fuzzy. She nodded again, wanting to slap herself for not being able to say anything.

"See you in homeroom," he said to her with a last grin, before slipping past her.

"Bye," she said, turning to watch him go.

Surely the heavens had opened up for Sharpay, she could hear bells and angels singing, and most of all she could hear Troy saying her name. She clutched her books to her chest, knowing she was wearing a goofy smile as she stared after him, but for the moment she didn't care. Until her brother had to snap her out of it.

"That was pathetic," he said conversationally.

Cheeks heating slightly, Sharpay turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Shut up," she said. "I can't help it."

Ryan gave a little grin. "I could tell," he said. "So do you write 'Mrs. Troy Bolton' on all your notebooks?"

"Shut up!" she repeated, turning on her heel and marching away.

Of course, he fell in step beside her right away. "Or is it 'Sharpay Bolton' that you write on the bathroom walls?" he asked playfully. When Sharpay didn't answer, a scowl still fixed on her face, Ryan nudged her with his elbow. "Come on Shar, I'm just messing."

She took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh, and she slowed her pace some. "I know," she said quietly.

"Besides," Ryan said, "How can you not like Troy? There isn't a girl in all of East High who can deny him. In fact, I'd think something was wrong if you didn't act like that around him."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?" she asked.

"Not working?"

"Not at all."

"Sorry, sis."

Sharpay smiled, and then nodded her head towards the school doors. "Come on," she said.

The halls were buzzing with activity as the Evans siblings made their way to their lockers, and when Sharpay opened hers, she glanced in the small mirror she had hanging up. It was habit -- she liked looking at her reflection. Her eyes widened at what she saw though. Her hair clip had come loose slightly, most likely from Chad bumping so rudely into her, and some strands of hair were sticking up and looking atrocious.

"You didn't say anything?!" she gasped, turning to Ryan.

"What?" he asked.

She pointed to her hair. "Did I look like this when Troy was talking to me?" she demanded.

He studied her, then shrugged. "What's wrong with it?"

"Ugh!" she said, quickly pulling the clip out. She started digging in her purse for her hair brush, and she shook her head to herself. "He wasn't laughing at my joke," she moaned, "He was laughing at my hair!"

"Sharpay," Ryan said, "What are you talking about?"

She shook her head again, and set to work fixing her hair. She'd just gotten her hair perfect again, and as she was clipping it in place, the clip broke. Snapped right in half. Jaw dropping, she held it out in front of her and stared at it helplessly -- it'd been such a cute hair clip. Of course, she'd bought it at the dollar store, and you get what you pay for with stuff like that.

"I hate living like this!" she whispered fiercely, before turning and throwing the broken hair clip at the trash can across the hall. She didn't pay attention long enough to see if it made it in.

Shoulders dropping some, she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself, trying to stop the angry tears she could feel welling in her eyes. She could cry so easily when she got mad, and she hated it. Ryan was looking at her, that concerned brotherly look on his face, and she felt a little guilty.

"Your hair looks cuter when it's down anyway," he said quietly.

And despite how upset she was, she had to let out a small laugh. Breathing deeply, she went back to brushing her hair, and she tried to make it look as best as she could without a clip. It still didn't help how embarrassed she felt -- she couldn't stop thinking about how her hair had looked when Troy was talking to her.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and both Sharpay and Ryan turned. It was Chad, looking very much like he'd rather be somewhere else. He glanced at Ryan, then met Sharpay's gaze.

"Look," he said, "I was in a hurry earlier -- I'm...sorry," it seemed like he had trouble with the apology.

"Did Troy make you say this?" Ryan asked, no qualms.

Chad's scowl was answer enough. Sharpay raised her chin again, squaring her shoulders.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going next time, Danforth," she said.

"Whatever, Princess," he said, before turning and disappearing down the hall, shaking his head.

Sharpay watched him, then turned to Ryan. "Why did you ask about Troy?" she questioned.

Ryan shrugged his shoulders. "Chad doesn't normally talk to us," he said. "Why should he want to apologize all of a sudden. I was just curious." He grinned, then said, "And doesn't it make you feel better, knowing that Troy wanted him to say that?"

She had to smile slightly at that. "Well, I suppose," she said.

Grinning, Ryan grabbed her arm. "Let's go."

They were two of the first to enter homeroom, and as they went to their seats, they both greeted their teacher, Ms. Darbus. Sharpay sat down, fighting the urge to mess with her hair, and Ryan held out one of his notebooks to her. In pencil, he'd scribbled, 'Mrs. Sharpay Bolton' inside of a heart.

She flushed, starting to tell him to erase it, but he held his hands up defensively, doing it before she could. He gave her a grin, and she just had to mirror it.

When Troy entered the room, Sharpay tried to pretend not to notice -- he was with Gabriella of course, one of his arms slung over her shoulders, and the jealousy stabbed Sharpay like a rusty knife. But when Troy caught sight of her, he smiled brightly and gave her a little wave.

That made her feel a little better, giving her a certain lightness to her heart.

Someday.