So, I have never really had an interest in HSM until recently, in fact I have never even watched the second movie in its entirety or even the third until, like, a couple of weeks ago, but I did take an interest in this pairing. Consider it a New Year's tribute, as my anti-social self has nothing better to do than write a freakin' essay on said night. Enjoy, and I hope your new years' are more exciting than mine.
It was New-Fucking-Years-Eve, and here I was stuck at this dumb-ass Wildcats party my brother decided to drag me to. I. Hate. Wildcats. Period. Underage drinking, oh joy! Horny teens grinding on the dance floor, throwing up in vases and making out in bathrooms.
God, sometimes I hate my life.
And I'm pretty sure the punch is drugged, ugh.
Why couldn't I just make an appearance, pull a Moses, and disappear back home without anyone being any the wiser? Oh that's right, because I had stupidly agreed to let Ryan drive tonight, all because he wanted to look all suave for his new girlfriend, and probably because he knew I wouldn't actually come.
Most definitely that last one.
So here I am, quietly enjoying my drugged punch on a couch that smells like gym socks, with a puddle of I-don't-even-want-to-know not three feet from where I'm sitting.
People-watching is even starting to lose its appeal; once you've seen one teen grinding drunkenly on anyone foolish enough to get close to them, you've seen 'em all... unless of course that teen happens to be a certain straight-laced transfer student... swaying all over the place while grinding on... a junior?
Dear God, what was the world coming to? And where the hell were all her baby-sitters making sure nothing happened to her? Where was Troy? Taylor? And was that...?
I knew that punch was drugged. Fruit punch my ass, more like would you like some fruit with that vodka?
Looking around desperately hoping that someone would save the girl from herself, it would seem as if the entire basketball team had disappeared, along with Ryan, Kelsi and Taylor.
Rocketman was leaning against the back wall, but my faith in his ability to take proper care of the Montez girl was minimal. Throwing down my own punch, untouched of course, it smelt particularly foul, it was time to face the music that was dozens of bodies pressing together into a swarming mass of sweaty limbs. Eww.
"Those idiots better thank me for this later..." Grumbling quietly to myself, not that it mattered, no one would be able to hear me over the shitty techno music that was currently blaring, I managed, suffered really, to get into the heart of the throng and grab onto one of the flailing limbs of the freaky-genius-girl, forcibly dragging her back through the chaos and out into the yard where there was only a few hundred people milling about, rather than what felt like a thousand inside.
Pausing just outside the glass doors to catch my breath, that damn Montez must have been more inebriated than I thought, crashing, quite forcibly, into me, followed by a nice short, sharp squeal as she recognised her rescuer.
"Sharpay!"
Oww. Because I didn't need that eardrum or anything.
Turning around to face the excitable brunette I instantly regretted pulling her out of that dance floor. Of all the drunks she could have been, she had to be the clingy one, and if the giggling that was issuing non-stop right into my ear was anything to go by she was also a giggly one. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Trying to wrestle free from her death grip around my neck, grumbling all the while I might add, I tried to forcibly create some space between us, but no, she wasn't having any of that. I though drunks were supposed to lose control of their bodies, not gain monstrous strength while under the influence.
"Where's Taylor? Or any of your other baby-sitters for that matter..." I managed to grind out between clenched teeth, still pulling futilely on her arms all the while.
Pouting, she pulled back, slightly I might add, suddenly going wide-eyed, as if just realizing that she was alone, having been abandoned by her friends some hours earlier by the looks of things.
"Dunno." Was her intelligent response, turning those wide brown eyes back onto mine, still hanging from my neck, "Outside, maybe?"
Okay, it's official. She's plastered.
"Riiiight..."
Deciding to take advantage of her distracted state, I quickly pulled myself free of her embrace, trying to create some space between us. It worked. For like a second.
Sighing quietly, I resigned myself to the fact that until I found someone else to palm her off to we would have to retain some form of bodily contact. Where the hell was Ryan? Wherever he was Kelsi was sure not to be too far behind, and Kelsi loved Gabriella, so all I had to do was find Ryan and...
"Gabriella, what are you doing?"
She frowned up at me but made no move to desist in her activities, "Looking for my phone." She replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"In my back pocket?"
"Mhmm."
Okay, this was getting too weird; the girl was practically groping my ass, I needed Ryan, and I needed him fast.
Deciding that she might actually be onto something I fished my own phone out of my front pocket, hitting one on my speed dial list, hoping that he would pick up. Three rings later Gabriella had finally given up her search, leaning against my shoulder her breath tickling the back of my ear. By the sixth ring I began to panic as she resumed her search, deciding that my other back pocket might be hiding her elusive device.
"Come on, Ryan, pick up, pick up..." Meanwhile the drunken lout hanging onto my arm for dear life had discovered that my keys made a noise when she jangled them. The boy couldn't answer fast enough for my liking.
"'ello?"
"Ryan? Thank God. I've got a bit of a situation down here, and I need you, well, Kelsi really, to come fix it."
"Kelsi? Why? What's wrong?"
"Gabriella's drunk, I need Kelsi to come get her."
"..."
There was silence on the other line and for a moment I thought he had hung up on me.
"Ryan?"
"She said, 'why don't you just take her home?'"
"Ryan," I ground out, trying not to flinch as Gabriella decided to explore my other pockets, her fingers tracing ragged patterns over my thighs now, "You don't seem to understand, Gabriella is drunk, very drunk and she- Jesus, Gabriella, stop putting your hands down my pants!" She pulled back slightly, looking somewhat offended, yet kept both her hand firmly stuck in my front pockets.
I levelled one of my glares at her, completely forgetting about Ryan still being on the phone, as she slowly withdrew her hands, sulking all the while before looping them through one of my own. Rolling my eyes at the clinginess, but permitting the contact, no longer in danger of being raped by her wandering hands, I returned my attention to Ryan, specifically getting his girlfriend to take over.
"Shay? You still there?"
"Yeah," closing my eyes, longing to run my hands through my hair in irritation, I sigh into the phone.
"What the hell is she doing to you?"
I could hear him laughing, figures he would find this situation funny, "Look, Ry, just come get her, okay?"
I could already feel him shaking his head before the refusal came, "Look Shay, take the car, get her home and put her to bed, besides, it sounds as if she's gotten quite attached to you."
"I hate you so much."
"I love you too."
And with that he hung up on me, laughing all the while. With another sigh, I turned back to the goofily grinning brunette, who was quite happily playing with my fingers. Putting away my phone, I tightened my grip on her hand, pulling her around the side of the house.
"Come on, might as well get you to bed."
"What, you aren't even going to buy me dinner first?"
This was going to be a long drive.
...
After what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, we finally pulled up in front of her house, where I was then tasked with getting her out of the car; getting her in had been difficult enough.
Walking over to the passenger side, she was actually surprisingly compliant, holding her arms up to me as if expecting me to carry her into the house. How about, no. Instead I used them as leverage to pull her out of the car.
Giggling like mad as she almost ended up flat on her face, a veritable dead weight - it looks like I really would have to carry her. Pulling an arm across my shoulders, supporting most of her weight that way, it was tough going getting to the front door, but then I was faced with an even more daunting task: getting the damn thing open.
Dumping the giggling brunette, I figure there is not going to be an easy way out of this, "Time to return the favour..."
She didn't have a purse on her so that left pockets, or breaking in... I hope her mom wasn't home. Gently sliding my hands over her sides, covertly feeling her jacket pockets for any conspicuous bulges; no such luck. Groping it is then.
Patting the front of her thighs, much to my ever growing dismay they remained empty no matter how much I searched. Damn it. Sighing down at the clingy drunk, who was still giggling, and by all appearances enjoying being groped, it was time for the last resort; on to the back pockets.
As she was sitting down this complicated matters somewhat. Grunting in exertion, lifting her partially off the ground, slinging her arms around my neck, before sliding my hands into both her back pockets, basically holding her up by her arse. Something she seemed to enjoy immensely, chuckling lowly before whispering a quiet enquiry,
"And what do you think you're doing?"
I froze for a moment, the lucidity of the statement shocking me. Pulling back ever so slightly to see her face, her arms holding me securely in place, fingers tickling the base of my neck. Suppressing a shiver as I realised just how close we were, noses touching, a smirk pulling at her lips, looking entirely too sober for my liking.
Both pockets were empty much to my annoyance, but she merely laughed at the frown that appeared on my face before unlacing one arm, not the one tracing those delicious circles, sliding her hand down my back ever so slowly.
Unable to turn away, trapped in those shinning brown orbs, biting the inside of my mouth as her fingers played with the hem of my shirt before sliding them across my hip, only to grab at her own belt unhooking something. Chuckling all the while she shook her keys next to her head. It took everything I had not to simply dump her on her ass right there.
Instead I simply tore my eyes away from hers, closing them briefly to try and calm myself. Slipping both hands out of her pockets, wrapping one around her waist, the other reaching up to snatch the keys from her hand. Only then did I let go, dumping her on her arse.
In a heartbeat she went from looking almost sober to about as drunk as when I first pulled her from the dance floor, not even attempting to catch herself, smiling goofily up at me once more. Thankfully she only had like five keys on the thing so it didn't take long to get the door open.
Unfortunately for me she happened to be leaning on the door, so as it swung open she went with it, a startled squeal following her. Okay, maybe she wasn't as sober as I thought she might have been.
She just lay there on the floor, that goofy grin coming back, rolling slightly from side to side,
"Can you stand?"
She hummed in response, flailing arms and some crazy gymnastics later she actually managed to roll onto her stomach before all progress stopped.
"Apparently not..."
She cocked her head to the side, smiling over her shoulder at me, batting her eyes in what was probably meant to be an innocent fashion but came off dopey instead, I resigned myself to the fact that I would indeed be carrying her all the way up the stairs, all twenty six of them. Rolling her back onto her back, bracing myself before scooping her up under her arms, I managed to get her to her feet with little difficulty. Though it would seem remaining standing was going to become a problem as she wobbled dangerously in my arms.
"Ryan owes me big time for this." Gripping her bridal style, her legs swinging all the while, climbing the stairs took twice as long as normal, even with years of endurance training that came from learning how to sing and dance simultaneously for hours straight, lugging sixty kilos of giggling body up a flight of stairs had me gasping for air by the time I reached the second floor landing.
Her room wasn't hard to spot thankfully, and I managed to make it to her bed before my arms gave out, once again dumping her on her arse. Unfortunately her arms remained tightly locked around my neck, pulling me down with her. Great.
"Why hello there," She did that thing with her eyes again, only this time looking distinctly more sober, just like with the key incident earlier. Her fascination with my neck became apparent again, gently raking her nails down it over and over again.
Pulling away from her had never been so difficult. It would have been so much easier to simply lean forward, eliminating the mere inches that separated us, but a drunken kiss was probably the last thing I wanted right now. Well, almost. But a sober one would be better.
Though a streaking Gabriella was probably right at the top of that list.
Unfortunately, nothing seemed to want to go my way tonight. Remind me never to offer to help a drunken fool change into something that doesn't reek of sweat, alcohol and other unmentionables that come from partying too hard.
The shirt caught on her head so I helped untangle it; I swear I only turned my back for a second as I searched for something for her to change into instead, the next thing I know everything else has been dumped on her floor, and a flash of a very bare behind fleeing out the door was all I needed to know that my night had just gotten so much worse.
"Gabriella!?"
That tell-tale giggle echoed through the house. Rushing onto the landing she had already vanished from sight.
"Shit."
Jumping down the stairs two at a time as a shock of hair dashed through the lounge... heading for the front door. With seconds to spare I slammed the door shut, locking it in one swift motion, only to turn around and see that she was gone again.
Standing there wondering if she had ran back upstairs or into some other room on the ground floor, a muffled laugh came from the kitchen. With a deep breath, slipping my shoes off as I did, moving quietly towards the proposed source of the laughter, hesitating to the side of the door frame.
Okay. You can do this. Just grab her and haul ass back upstairs. Don't think, just do.
Pep talk finished, a dark head of hair poked itself through the door before I could jump in. She screamed as she caught sight of me, laughing manically before fleeing back into the kitchen, jumping out of reach, hand coming up empty as she literally slipped right through my fingers.
Of course I should have known better than to chase after an intoxicated, giggly drunk; obviously it would turn into a game of hide and seek... though hopefully one I could lead back upstairs, preferably into her room where a nice clean set of clothes awaited her.
Chasing her through three separate rooms, I almost felt guilty that I had tried to dump this on Kelsi and Ryan; they probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. Ryan would have died of blood loss the minute she busted out of her room, and Kelsi would never be able to manhandle a child, let alone a very intoxicated, very naked, Latina.
Then again, they probably wouldn't have gotten into this situation in the first place.
I honestly didn't know how much longer I could keep this up, hiding outside the lounge room again, trying to get my breath back as quietly as possible; muffled giggles accompanied the gasping for air on the other side of the couch. There was no guarantee that she would come my way, but I hoped she would, standing just outside the entrance, I had nothing to go on, just instinct, and luck finally turned in my favour.
One second the Latina was smirking in victory, sneaking towards the front door, hell bent on a midnight stroll; her overconfidence was her undoing as she walked straight into my arms.
"Gotcha," She cried out in delight as I wrapped her in my embrace, pulling her flush against my chest, dragging her, flailing limbs and raucous laughter included, back towards the stairs. Tightening my grip on her waist, trying not to pay any attention to what I was touching as I readjusted my hold to try and get her up the stairs and into her own room.
Fuck she's soft.
Upon reaching the safety of her room, I hurriedly released her before shutting the door this time, sliding the bolt home with a satisfying clang.
Turning back to my elusive freaky-genius-girl, hands on hips, ready to tackle her if need be to just get her dressed and into bed before dawn broke. And there she was, mirroring my stance, bare as the day she was born. Fighting the growing heat in my cheeks, it took years of practiced calm to keep my eyes from drifting over the uninhibited view I was currently privy to.
Relax Sharpay, you hate her, remember? That silly little girl crush ended ages ago. Like, a second after you met her. Feelings are awkward, messy and- fuck, when did she walk over here?!
"I think you are wearing too many clothes..."
There. Again that lucid moment. My back was already pressed against the door, with Gabriella right in front of me, hands pulling at my jacket and shirt.
"W-what makes you say that?"
That goofy smile was back, hands slowly unbuttoning my shirt, and me, helpless to stop it.
"Well, I'm naked, so you should be too."
"That's an exhibitionists way of thinking."
She chuckled softly against my neck, her warm breath reeked of alcohol, but I couldn't think of anywhere I would rather be.
...
Sleep is always a good thing; waking up, not so much, especially when a cacophony of Spanish swears, the blankets being torn off and being kicked to the floor are the chosen method for doing so.
Being less fluent in Spanish, I had to resort to traditional English ones.
"FUCK!"
A tousled head peered over the edge of the bed, wide brown eyes looking on in mild concern, panic being the most prominent in those beautiful eyes.
"Sharpay?"
The sound of her timid voice, now conversing in a language I knew, forced me to release my head and actually look back at her.
"Are you ok?"
Flat on my back, exposed to the world, with a throbbing head and she wants to know if I'm okay?
"Fucking fantastic."
She looks slightly embarrassed, cheeks flushed a beautiful rosy colour, eyes downturned, but I could feel them tracing over me in all my glory. She reaches for the duvet that had been pushed to the foot of the bed during our morning tussle, pulling it over herself, freeing the sheet from the bed and handing it to me.
I was almost disappointed that her modesty had returned.
Almost.
The throbbing in the back of my skull made it a little hard to concentrate on anything else.
"Sharpay?"
"Yeah?"
"Why," She flushed darker, fingers clutching the duvet tighter around herself, "Why are we naked?"
"Because you thought it was a good idea." Her head shoots up at that, turning impossibly darker still. "You don't remember do you?"She shook her head, a horrified expression joining the blush that seemed to cover her entire face, neck and shoulders.
"Of course you don't... why would you remember a thing like that?" I grumble too low for her to hear, though the expression on her face is starting to turn priceless, and this sudden urge to tease her started to rear its head.
"What do you remember?"
"Umm..." She scratched her head awkwardly, a feat in and of itself as she tried to prevent the duvet from exposing any hint of flesh. Not that I hadn't already gotten an eyeful last night... or was it this morning? "I remember going to the party with Taylor, she got me a drink, and then things start to get a bit hazy."
She trailed off, tugging the blanket closer around her body, looking at anything but me.
"We didn't do anything," Once again her head shot up, eyes wide and expressive, "In case you were wondering." She looked at me as if I had just grown another head, "You know, after you suggested the whole 'let's get naked and go for a run' thing?"
She groaned into her hands, shaking her head as if trying to deny what I was saying, "I would never have picked you to have an exhibitionist streak."
She growled at that, throwing one of her pillows at me, I just laughed, sitting up properly, not bothering to pull the sheet up enjoying the way she buried her head in her hands again trying not to look.
"What else?" Came her mumbled inquiry, she peeked through her fingers, only to shut them a moment later as I stood up leaving the sheet on the floor.
Grinning boldly as I sat down next to her, "Well, we played hide and seek for a bit, I manhandled you back into your room where you proceeded to strip me, before promptly falling asleep on me." She groaned again, "Oh, and before the naked game of tag, which you really got into by the way, you tried to rape me with your hands, in public mind, and yeah, that's about it."
She threw herself down on her back, duvet falling slightly exposing a lovely creamy shoulder. "And even after all that I still didn't get a kiss." She froze, hands gripping her face tightly, chest barely moving. It was my turn to play games with her, gently brushing her hair away from said shoulder, "And it was New Year's Eve and everything."
I pulled back, satisfied that I had tormented her enough, for today at least. I jumped off the bed walking towards the door picking up various items of clothing as I did so, intent on getting dressed only to be shoved roughly into the door again, a very warm and exposed body pressing against me.
"Happy new year," She whispered against my lips before pressing her own against them gently.
I froze, having not really expected her to actually do it, and then it was my turn to blush as she pulled back, eyes fluttering open again.
She looked so cute and embarrassed, and shit- gorgeous. Looking past her beautiful shoulders catching sight of the clock on her bedside.
"You're only thirteen hours late," she blushed darker but made no move to pull away.
Her eyes widened as I leaned in to kiss her once more, smiling against her lips all the while. She didn't pull away this time, choosing instead to deepen the kiss, her tongue begging for entrance, and after last night I was more than willing to let her in.
Hell of a way to ring in the New Year.