He Called Me Pay
By LoveAndSerenity

Hi everybody! It's me again, back with another oneshot!

First of all, I would like to thank you all so much for all the great reviews for Inspiration Will Find You. You guys don't even how happy it makes me to read your kind words about my writing. I sincerely appreciate each and every one of your opinions.

Now, just a warning, this is different from most of the works I've written. This is, in fact, my first-ever angst. I don't usually write angst. I'm a dreamy, hopeless romantic who wants every Troypay story to end happy. But... I really don't know why I felt like writing angst. I guess it was because I was thinking about an angst story I read once. Anyway, this is angst, so be warned. If you like beautiful, happy endings, I am afraid this might not be for you.

I don't know how good this is, in terms of angst, so once again, I need the help of my faithful reviewers to tell me! Please give me your comments on this. Do I suck at angst? Should I write more? Tell me what you think!

There is a link on my profile to a picture that goes with this story. I found the picture and used it. It's just for your visual reference purposes. I envision it as the puppy I describe in the story.

Writing this story made me cry, but again, I'm an emotional, sensitive, romantic girl. I read it to my little sister (the same sister who wouldn't help with ideas and inspired me to write "Inspiration Will Find You"; she's the only sibling I have) and she cried by the end, too. So... Maybe we're just super-emotional. I dunno. What I'm trying to say is, please read this, please review, and thank you for actually reading the author's note!

Disclaimer: I don't own the picture of the puppy. I don't own HSM, as I have mentioned before. But, I will, infact, be the wife of Zac Efron in the future. You can bet on it. Wow that was really cheesy. Anyway. I own everything else besides that stuff, though. The plot, the writing, etc.; you know how these work.

"Darling, your ride is here," I hear my mother's voice call. "Hurry, Dear, Ryan's already down here." Sharpay may be my name, but not a lot of people who care about me call me that.

To my friends, I'm known by a variety of names. To Taylor, Gabriella, Zeke, Kelsi, Jason, Martha and the rest of them, I'm simply Sharpay.

The only exception is Chad. Chad has a special name for me that no one else in the world calls me. Chad calls me Sharpie. We have a special relationship, different from my other friends. At first Chad was annoyed by me. Then he hated me. Then he ignored me completely and pretended like I didn't exist. After that, he tolerated me, and we eventually became friends. Now he loves me. We're good friends.

To the parents of my friends, I'm known as "Sweetie", "Honey", or just plain Sharpay.

My own parents have names for me. To Daddy, I'm "Princess" or "Angel". I'm Daddy's little girl. To Mother, I'm "Dear" or "Darling". I love my mother, but like I said, I'm a Daddy's girl, and Ryan's a Mama's boy. That's just how it is.

Ryan. My twin. My brother. My partner. My best friend. To Ryan I've always been Shar. It's been Shar and Ry, ever since we were little. Ryan and Ryan alone calls me Shar.

There is one other name that I've been known by in my 17 years of living. Pay. That's another name that only one person will ever have the right to call me. But now... That person's gone, and that name is lost forever.

I became friends with the Wildcats when I started dating him. There were no hard feelings. Gabriella broke up with him at the beginning of senior year, and she and Ryan got together soon after. Then, he finally gave me a chance. And we were both happy he did.

I snap myself out of that thought. I can't think about that right now. I realize what my mother said, and I hurry and grab my purse.

"Coming, Mother," I say, and I rush down the stairs. I see Chad, Taylor, Gabriella and Ryan waiting for me in the foyer. I give them all a weak smile.

I say goodbye to my parents, and tell them I love them, before finally letting Ryan lead me out to Chad's car.

I climb into the backseat as Ryan holds the door open for me. He gets in on my left side, and Gabriella sits on my right. Taylor sits up front, and Chad is driving.

They're all glancing at me when they think I'm not looking. But I can see them. When I catch them, they smile at me sadly and I turn away. Ryan rubs my hand comfortingly, and Gabriella smiles at me, playing with my hair soothingly.

I don't know why they all think they have to act like this. They don't all have to be strong for me. I know they're all hurting, too, and it makes me sort of angry that they think they have to hide it. In truth, showing me their grief would help more. It would show me I'm not all alone.

We reach our destination, and slowly, everyone exits Chad's sedan. I hold Chad's hand as Ryan puts his arm around my shoulder, leading me to the seats. My parents arrive soon in their car, and everyone else who wasn't already here makes it just in time.

I sit through one of the most devastating ceremonies of my whole life, all the while my friends and family are trying to be strong. I watch as the priest speaks, telling us about a person we all already know more about than he ever will. I watch as people come up and speak one by one. Chad. Gabriella. Zeke and Jason and the rest of the basketball team. Ms. Darbus even talks for a little bit, in her most modest, quiet and least dramatic voice I've ever heard. I don't know what anyone is saying. I'm not listening. It's like the world's gone mute.

I watch as a red and white jersey is placed upon the pure white casket, my favorite number clearly printed on it.

And then it's over. Finally. I let out a sigh of relief as it ends. It was too hard. I had to be here; I had to watch it; but it was just too hard for me.

Chad drives us all again, but not to my home. He drives us to a place I know all too well. For seven months, it's been my second home.

I walk through the front door and a shiver runs through my spine. It's not right to be here when he's not.

Chad looks at me and sees my distress. He gives me a hug.

"I know, Sharpie," he says softly to me. "I feel the same way. It's different without him."

I nod, and walk with him into the kitchen. Immediately I see a woman I couldn't adore more. I walk to her and politely ask if she needs help with anything.

She turns, and when she sees me, her already red and puffy eyes begin to water again. She pulls me into a tight embrace, and tries to hide how she desperately wants to cry.

"Oh, no, Honey, it's just wonderful seeing you," she says softly when we break apart. "I couldn't ask for more right now."

I smile at her weakly. "It's wonderful to see you too, Mrs. Bolton."

She looks at me and sighs, giving me a tiny smile. "Sharpay, Sweetie, please, call me Lucille. Or Lucy, if you like."

I nod slowly and continue my weak smile. Just then, my second father enters the room, and our eyes meet. He walks up to me and silently hugs me.

"It's good to see you, Sharpay," he says. "Lucy and I have missed you."

I swallow hard. "It's been awhile, Mr. Bolton," I say. "I haven't seen you much around school."

He nods. "It has. But Honey, you know you can call me Jack."

I nod, and Lucille smiles slightly.

Jack spots Chad, and gives him an awkward hug as well. To me, he's Jack, but to Chad, he's Coach.

Jack turns back to me and his wife. "Why don't we all go into the living room," he says, more as a statement than a question.

I nod, and hold Chad's hand as we walk into the room. Everyone else is outside or another room. It's pretty empty here. Taylor is sitting on the couch, her eyes staring blankly into space. I give her a hug before sitting down, and Chad sits between us, holding both our hands.

Jack and Lucille sit down too, in the love-seat next to the couch. I look at them sadly.

Jack looks at us, seeing three miserable teenagers. He holds his wife's hand.

"You know, kids," he starts slowly, after clearing his throat, "you're always welcome here. Lucy and I would love for you to stop by anytime."

Chad nods. Taylor just looks up silently. I, however, close my eyes.

I would love to see Jack and Lucille often. I know they would love the company now, especially us Wildcats. But I don't know if I'll be able to do it.

It's hard, being in this house, with all its memories. This living room is full of them. There were times we watched movies here, all of us Wildcats, and Jack and Lucille, too. There were times when it was just the six-pack, as we called ourselves. Chad, Taylor, Ryan, Gabriella, me, and of course, him. Troy. He lived here, after all.

Then there were occasions when it was just the two of us. His parents would be out somewhere, and it would just be us. Just me and him, snuggled up together on the couch, my head on his chest with his arms around me. During those times the movie didn't matter at all, as long as we were together.

The kitchen is another room overflowing with memories. I can recall countless times when we'd all sit together at the table, the four of us. His family and me. I loved those times. I truly felt like part of his family. Jack and Lucille are so kind, and they treat me so well. I love them both immensely.

I remember times when my family came for dinner. Mother, Daddy, Ryan, and me, with the three of them. I smile a little as I remember how Ryan would always make funny faces at us, because he knew we were stealing glances at each other and flirting like crazy. I remember how Troy would stick his tongue out at Ryan and rub his hand on my thigh under the table, all while our parents were oblivious.

I smile again when I remember the victory celebrations we had when the Wildcats would win their basketball games. I remember how Lucille always had tons of food for us. And by 'Us' I mean the whole basketball team and me. I remember how we'd all have a huge festivity in the kitchen, oftentimes moving into the living room. We'd watch T.V. and talk and laugh and be really loud, just being typical teenage boys. And me, too. I'd sit on Troy's lap and wrap my arms around his neck, and he'd hold me extra tight. I always thought it was because he was showing off to his buddies that I was his.

I open my eyes and look out towards the basketball court in his backyard. I see much more than just a court with a few scattered people talking, though. I clearly see flashbacks from the great times we had out there.

Times when us girls would watch our boys playing basketball. Oh, many a time I cheered quite loudly when my boy, my Troy, would play for the skins side. How I loved watching him, getting all sweaty as he ran around, his chiseled six-pack abs glinting in the sunlight.

As I think of those abs, I'm reminded of memories we made in another room of his house. His bedroom.

Usually we'd just hang out together, laughing, talking, kissing, watching movies, normal stuff. But... Just last month, actually, that all changed.

One month ago, Troy gave me a memory I will never forget. One month ago, Troy and I made love in his bedroom for the first time.

It was my first time. Troy had done it before, I think... But that night, no other girl he'd ever been with mattered. I remember his voice, husky and seductive. His touch, gentle and loving. His kiss, sweet and passionate. I remember it all. Everything about it, about that moment, about everything I felt, about him. I'll never forget any of it.

If only I could be with him again. For one moment. Just one--no. One day wouldn't be enough. One year wouldn't be enough. It'd just be even more heartbreaking when the time would run out. I would lose him again.

A lump sticks in my throat as I close my eyes again. I feel Chad's hand squeeze mine tighter. I swallow hard and open my eyes.

What I see then surprises me. Jack is talking to a man I've never seen before in my life, and by the way everyone is looking at him, no one seems to know him any better than I do.

Then Jack nods, and the man shakes his hand, leaving the room. I turn to Jack as he joins us again.

"Who was that?" asks Chad.

Jack looks at him with a straight, emotionless face. "That was Mr. Wallman," he says, his voice as void of feeling as his face. "The man who..."

He stops. I know immediately why. He can't bring himself to say it. He can't bring himself to say, "The man who ran over my only son." Of course. That's understandable. Jack can't make himself say, "That's the man who killed Troy."

And we all know it was an accident. That's what everyone has told me. But accident or not, that man killed Troy Bolton. That man is the reason everyone is here, the reason why everyone is depressed.

I close my eyes again. It was an accident, but I can't help but have negative thoughts of that man. I suddenly fill with shame. Here I am, angry at this poor guy for killing the love of my life, when he probably is going to need years of counseling to get over the fact that he killed a popular, attractive, star-athlete teenage boy who everyone loved.

I open my eyes when I hear Taylor's voice.

"Oh... what's that?"

I look at the object of her question. It's a tiny little puppy, being held in Jack's arms. It's a light tan color, with white paws and a white tummy. It looks like a Chihuahua, but a long-haired one.

The sight of the dog makes me more upset. It brings back memories of Boi. I loved that little dog, until he had to go and run away.

Lucille looks at the dog, then at Jack, her eyes questioning. Jack nods, and the poor woman tears up again.

"That's..." she starts, fighting her tears so hard. "That's the dog..."

She stops and suddenly starts to cry silently. I let go of Chad's hand and walk to her. I don't know why a puppy is making her cry, but I want to comfort her nonetheless. I embrace the woman who I've come to love as my second mother while Chad and Taylor watch in silence.

Ryan walks in the room, with Gabriella and my mother.

Jack looks at everyone and continues his wife's sentence. "This is the dog that... Troy... saved..." he says.

I whirl my head around quickly. "What?" I ask. Jack looks at me sadly, immediately guilty that I wasn't already informed. I stare at him, then look at everyone else's blank stares. "What are you talking about?"

Chad gets up and hugs me. I try to break away.

"What do you mean, the dog Troy saved?"

Chad breaks away and looks at me. "Sharpie," he says softly, "when Troy... when Mr. Wallman..." He stops. It's hard for him.

I nod him to go on. He sighs and starts again.

"When... it happened," he finally manages, "that dog was in the road. Troy... He ran into the street to save him, Sharpie, before he..."

Chad can't finish. He can't say it.

I remember that horrible phone call one week ago.

--o-.-xXx-.-o--

"...I love you, Pay," he said sweetly, while he was walking home from my house.

I smiled on the other end of the phone. "I love you too, Troy."

"I love you more."

I giggled at that. "Do not. I love you more."

We were the sickly-sweet, obnoxiously-cute couple. But we didn't care.

"Nuh unh. I love you more than anything else in the world."

"Well, I love you--" I started, twirling my hair around my finger. But then I heard a shout, and I could tell the phone dropped. That cut me short. "Troy? Troy? Troy, are you there?"

I heard all kinds of noises in the background. A scream, yelling, tires screeching, horns honking. I listened, while my heart stopped and I started shaking. I just listened, the minutes passing by.

Eventually I heard sirens. I knew something was wrong. "Troy? Troy?! Baby, please, what's going on?!" I wailed. I didn't hear any response, but the call didn't end.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my cell phone and started to dial. I dialed his home first, but got no response. I called again. Nothing.

I jumped up and ran out of my room, halfway down the stairs when I realized I had my cell phone still in my hand, and that it was ringing.

"Hello?!" I answered frantically. I heard Chad's voice. It was panicked and upset. Something was wrong.

Chad never cries, but at that moment it sounded like he wanted to.

"Sharpie..." he mumbled. "There was an accident, Sharpie..."

--o-.-xXx-.-o--

I look at the dog.

The innocent little creature looks at me, his friendly eyes looking into my hurt ones. He is whining softly. Maybe it's true what they say, that dogs can tell when people are sad.

And those eyes are what gets me. They're so cute that I don't realize for a moment. But just for a moment.

This is the dog that Troy Bolton, the boy I loved more than life itself, sacrificed his life for.

I choke. The lump returns to my throat. I can't breathe.

Jack looks at me. He sees my eyes. He clears his throat.

"Sharpay," he begins, "Mr. Wallman picked up this dog after the accident. It appears he was a stray. Lucille and I don't know what to do with him. Lucy's allergic to dogs. So... We were wondering... if you'd like to keep him."

As I look at his adorable little face, again I think of when I lost Boi. Troy was so sweet. He was there for me. He made me feel so much better as I dealt with my loss... It's ironic that now a puppy is helping me deal with my loss of Troy.

The dog cocks its head to the side. Of course. I have to take him. How could I go on living my life knowing that I rejected the creature Troy died for? No. I have to keep him.

I pick the little dog out of his arms and hold him in my own. I stare at his little charming puppy face. He looks back at me and licks my nose. I smile, just a little.

I turn to my mother. Our eyes lock, and she knows what this little animal means to me. She nods. I can keep him. Of course.

I turn back to Jack. "I'll take him," I say. "Troy gave his life for this dog. I'm going to make sure he's loved, and I'll take the best care of him anyone ever could. I swear, I will not let Troy's sacrifice be in vain. I love him."

I say love, not loved. Because I still love him. Even when he's gone. I will love him forever, until the day it's my turn to go. I will love him until the day I see him again.

I will love Troy Bolton until the day we will be together once more.

Ryan puts a hand on my shoulder. I turn and look at him, still cradling the tiny dog in my arms. He smiles at me reassuringly, and then says the words that finally make my heart break completely.

"And I know he's looking down on us right now, saying, 'Sharpay, I love you too'."

And that's when it happens. That's when I choke up, and the first of untold thousands of tears to come falls. Ryan looks shocked. He starts to say something. He didn't mean to make me cry.

I haven't cried once since that day, but here, when I hear my brother's words, I do.

Because I know that he's wrong.

"No," I whisper, as everyone gets closer to me and tries to help comfort my bleeding heart. "He called me Pay."

Well, there you have it. My first angst. I choke up almost every time I read it.

Now, please remember: review, and if you really like it, feel free to add me to your favorites. :)

Also, don't forget about the link to the picture of the puppy on my profile, if you want to see it.

And, as always, thanks for reading!

--Serenity