A/N: I tried on my graduation gown today (Ack! I can't believe I'm almost a high school graduate!), and this fic idea erupted like some kind of volcano. It takes place near the end of HSM 3. As an aside, I'm experimenting specifically with third-person omniscient. Enjoy.

Zipper

"Dude, are you sure it's supposed to look like this?" Troy asked, picking uncertainly at the loose garment he had zipped up over his clothing.

Chad was surer than he should have been, according to the guidelines of platonic friendship. How Troy managed to pull off a look as unflattering as academic dress, Chad might never know, but his ogling eyes desperately yearned to find out.

"Chad?" Troy felt a stare burning into his back and turned to face his friend.

"Huh?" On reflex, Chad's eyes shot up to meet Troy's, and he barely resisted a blush.

"I asked if this is how it's s'posed to look. Where were you?" Troy laughed off a potentially awkward moment, the kind which had been increasing in frequency lately. In the back of his mind, he was sure that Chad had been--nah.

"Oh." From his seat on Troy's bed, Chad threw his arms out and looked down at his own graduation robe, then back at Troy's. "Looks just like mine." He didn't quite believe the statement, of course; everything looked better on Troy.

Troy scrunched up his face and turned back to the mirror on his closet door. "I dunno. It just seems . . . weird."

Even weirder was his and Chad's relationship at present. Although he had yet to tell Chad that he was going to California, Chad had been acting off, in a big way, and Troy couldn't quite pinpoint what was causing the change.

"I think you're just freaking 'cause it's finally us, man. I mean, we've seen graduations on TV and movies, but now that we're the ones wearing the robes and the caps, it's totally different. It's like, once we put them on, on that day, everything changes--our school, our lives, even our fr . . ." Chad's explanation fizzled out as, partially to distract himself from what he had been about to say, he eyed the broad shoulders that hid beneath the Wildcat Red cloth, examined the outline of Troy's body showing through the thin polyester. He didn't even try to convince himself that he didn't like looking.

"Even our what?" Troy meant to toss the question over his shoulder, but his head froze as he caught Chad's unfamiliar countenance. "What is it?" He glanced again at his attire, subconsciously sure that wasn't it, but deciding it was easier to handle. "It is messed up, isn't it? Man, I knew it!" Troy began to unzip the robe, sick of having to fuss over it.

Chad gave himself a mental shake and waved a hand in negation. "No, dude. It's fine. I just, uh . . . forgot what I was gonna say."

"Uh-huh. Sure. I'm not wearing a screwed up robe." Troy frowned as he struggled with the zipper for a moment, finally balling his fists and letting out a frustrated growl. "And now the zipper's stuck! Who made this thing?"

Smiling at Troy's irritation, Chad stood up to help. "You just gotta pull it like this." He demonstrated with his own zipper, which had gotten stuck a short while earlier.

Troy made an attempt, grumbling about cheap manufacturing. He looked up at Chad pleadingly. "Chad, it's not working," he whined. Now that he was moving, he had enough stress to manage without the added pressure of getting his robe replaced. "I'm not even gonna go to the stupid ceremony."

"Shut up, man. If I have to go, then so do you," Chad muttered playfully, resigned to stepping forward to fix the zipper himself.

Troy faked annoyance at first, but he soon found himself too unnerved, both by Chad's proximity and the fact that he was harboring such a big secret, to continue doing so.

Chad's cheeks darkened as he noticed Troy's suddenly grim gaze, and he focused intently on the pull tab between his fingers.

If Troy told him, Chad would surely find some way of convincing him not to go through with it, to stay in Albuquerque and play ball, and Troy didn't want that. But Chad had a right to know; didn't he? They were best friends, after all.

"Dude, this is, like, really stuck," Chad stated, moving back a half-step to console his nervously shaking fingers. He knew what Troy was thinking; if he was truly honest with himself, he had known all along. He heard Troy's intake of breath, and clenched his jaw in preparation for the worst.

"Chad, I should probably tell you--"

"Got it!" Chad triumphantly interrupted. The slider moved freely down the teeth of the zipper; the two sides swung apart; and he made a hasty retreat.

Troy watched him thoughtfully, disappointed and relieved in equal measure. Deep down, he knew it would break Chad's heart, and he didn't want that, either.

"So, come on; put on your cap," Chad suggested to break the silence. "Let's see how it deals with your perfect hair," he added as a joke, safely positioned on the bed across the room.

Maybe the conversation wasn't that urgent.

Troy grinned and re-zipped his robe before reaching for their square-topped hats. "Nuh-uh, dude." He threw Chad's onto the bed with an expectant expression. "You first."

Maybe Chad could keep his heart intact just a little while longer.

A/N: Review if you like.