Don't own anything. This is set before HSM2. Hope you enjoy!
"A cruise?" Sharpay squealed, outraged. She was sprawled out on a beach chair, reading the latest issue of Seventeen Magazine on the side of the Country Club's pool. The sunlight poured down on her, since there was no shade whatsoever to cover her body. She was wearing her newest designer bikini. Topped off with her enormous sunglasses, Sharpay felt like a million bucks. She was trying to reach over and grab the lemonade resting on the side table to ease her irritation, but her hand slipped and knocked over a couple bottles of lotion. She was too angry to bother picking the bottles up. A few lifeguards instantly appeared by her side, placing the bottles ever so gently on the table before retreating. They had been at the club long enough to not bother Sharpay Evans when she was upset.
"Yes! Isn't it simply marvelous? Daddy pulled a few strings last week, and we're going to the Caribbean! Think of how fun it will be! Your summer will be the most exciting of all, no doubt," Sharpay's mother rambled, unable to contain her enthusiasm. Ryan, her brother, grinned at his sister before taking a sip of his iced tea.
"Wipe that frown off your face, sweetie, it'll cause wrinkles." Mrs. Evans added, oblivious of her daughter's frenzied state.
Sharpay was so furious she didn't even think about the wrinkles.
"Last week? Why didn't you tell me about it before?" How did her mother expect her to put on a happy face and act like everything was okay? Up until this point, her summer had looked great. Troy would be working at the country club, so she'd see him everyday without the nagging of idiotic Gabriella Montez at his side. Sharpay had plans. She was going to perform in the club's annual talent show with Troy as her partner. This was the summer Troy would realize how they were destined to be together, each other's freaking soul mates! And what did her mother do? Wreck her entire life, that's what.
"Why, to surprise you, of course! I bet there'll be some real cute guys there, too," Mrs. Evans winked knowingly at Sharpay.
Sharpay felt like burning a hole through her mother's seven hundred dollar handbag. Instead, she squealed once again in outrage and stomped away. She didn't care where she went—anywhere was better than here, with her Barbie-doll mother and retarded brother. The only man she wanted in her life was Troy Bolton, and she wouldn't see him all summer! This was more than unfair, it was torture. She'd have to spend all summer moping on a stupid cruise with no one to talk to, while Troy and Gabriella kissed and hugged and felt each other up. Troy was hers. Their fates were entwined ever since birth! He was the star basketball player, she the star of the theater. And who comes and ruins it all but big-brained Gabriella.
Sharpay's murderous thoughts subsided as she realized where she was headed—toward Gabriella's house. The last thing from her mind was visiting her, of all people. Gabriella, the girl who stole Troy from her, who stole her school play, who stole her spotlight. Was her subconscious mind telling her to get rid of her once and for all?
Sharpay smiled. Of course. She was so smart she didn't even need to think of a plan to know what to do next. She knocked on the ugly wooden door.
An ugly woman with scattered black hair opened it. She looked surprised, taking in Sharpay's hot red heels, designer bathing suit, and trendy clothes. She probably was a friend with someone this stunning. Friends. Hah.
"Um, hello," Mrs. Montez said, looking a bit dazed. "May I help you, dear?"
Sharpay smiled her most appealing smile, one that could be posted on a Covergirl Cosmetics product, and walked in the house. It was small and meek, with tile that needed serious redoing. Mrs. Montez resembled her daughter strikingly. It was no wonder Gabriella was never something to look at.
"Hello, Mrs. Montez. I'm Sharpay Evans, a friend of Gabby's. I was just wondering if she was home,"
Mrs. Montez's eyes were instantly guarded.
"It's nice of you to drop by, dear, but I'm afraid Gabriella is out." Was it Sharpay's imagination, or did Mrs. Montez's eyes just get darker? She seemed extremely uncomfortable talking about her daughter's whereabouts.
"Oh, okay," Sharpay said, trying to look like she was excruciatingly disappointed. Snagging the lead role in every school production except last year's gave her the ability to act whenever she wanted. It was a handy tool.
"Do you, by any chance, know where she is?" She asked softly. Mrs. Montez frowned.
"I believe she's with that Bolton boy," she responded, an edge to her smooth voice. Sharpay quickly calculated Mrs. Montez's tone and expression, saving it in her mind for future examination. It seemed like the woman was none too thrilled about Gabriella seeing Troy Bolton. Join the club, she thought.
Sharpay sucked in a deep breath for effect, as if the news was simply too horrendous to say in words. Mrs. Montez looked at Sharpay frantically.
"Oh my goodness, are you okay?" She asked maternally. This was it...this was her time...this was not a play, it was the real deal, and she had to nail the part perfectly or there was no way Mrs. Montez would believe it...
Sharpay pretended to relieve herself, her knees wobbling slightly, as if she could collapse any moment. Mrs. Montez grabbed Sharpay's elbow, trying to sturdy her. Her eyes were nervous and alert.
"Did you say Tr-Troy Bolton?" Sharpay asked unevenly. Gabriella's mother nodded, still nervous.
"Gabby is seeing him? That arrogant jerk! Ohmigod, I had no idea! I've got to warn her right away!" Sharpay said, attempting to flee and go after Gabriella like a worried friend. Mrs. Montez stopped her, just as Sharpay hoped she would.
"Warn her? About what?" Sharpay had broken through the mother's mask of calmness and peace—it was now as scattered as her hair, with worry and anger and exhaustion playing in her eyes.
"That rapist!" Sharpay shouted.
Gabriella's mom froze.
Sharpay was jumping for joy inside. Phase one complete.
Review! What do you think Sharpay is going to do? Does this story suck? Do you like it? Hate it? Let me know!