Hope
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He waits outside the drama club for that scent of magnolias and watercress to come tickle his senses. It heralds her arrival and he can't help but hopelessly stare at her lithe figure swathed in Burberry and her cascading gold locks. Every single day, the sight never ceases to fill him with awe. The beauty and confidence she exudes, the aura of haughtiness, he finds it all so irresistibly attractive.
In retrospect he should have seen it coming. Because he always did have a fondness for the drama queens. Besides witty repartee rolls off her tongue like silk, just the way he likes it. She poses a challenge and no, he's not that crude enough to treat it as a conquest. Sharpay Evans with her hot pinks, fire engine reds and sequins intrigues him, more than soberly dressed mathletes ever will.
Her heels click by and he's jolted out of his reverie.
"Hey Evans."
"Danforth." She's looks bored and is gazing at her nails but that dosen't throw him off and still he presses on. Being thick-skinned really helps sometimes.
"Go out with me this Friday?"
"As if." And with that she's gone, the sound of her heels echoing down the hallways and the swish of her hair leaving him feeling slightly intoxicated. He grins and shakes his head experimentally. Never mind, he'll ask her again tomorrow. He'll keep asking until she agrees. Because even Sharpay Evans has to crack someday.
Until then hope keeps him going.
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