A/N: OK, so this was a completely random idea that came to me at around half ten last night. I finished it at about midnight. I just wondered what would happen if Magenta had a thing for Zac Efron. ;)
Oh, and just for the record: Zefron = love. He's just a god, even if he is, you know, orange.
---
"Okay." Zach shut the book he was pretending to read with a snap. "I have a very serious question to ask you."
They were sitting on Magenta's purple-quilted bed, surrounded by sheets and sheets of multi-coloured notes - mind maps swirling across several pages, bullet points scrawled in every corner, words underlined so fiercely that they had scored dents in the paper - detailing everything from clashing costumes to radioactive ladybugs (Zach didn't dare disturb these; Magenta could sometimes be a real study Nazi). Mid-terms were next week and tension was running high, but there was only one thing plaguing Zach's thoughts - and it had nothing to do with hero support.
"Do you think Zac Efron is prettier than me?"
Magenta's head snapped up.
"What?"
Zach said nothing. He just looked sadly into her eyes and concentrated on looking cute.
"Did you just ask if I think Zac Efron is prettier than you?" Her mouth twitched like she was trying not to laugh.
"Yeah. But I meant, uh, if you think he's manlier than me."
She gave in and shot him one of those reluctant smiles that made his heart melt, Ethan-style, into a puddle of phosphorescent gloop at the bottom of his ribcage.
"Well, now I do," she replied, punching him on the shoulder. Hard. "Which is saying something, seeing as I'm not convinced that Zac Efron actually has any genitalia."
Zach spared a moment to reflect on this comment and how much it would cost in counselling before continuing.
"Then why," he began, pulling out his ace, "do you have a picture of him in your purse?"
That brought a flush to Magenta's cheeks. Her dark eyes narrowed, and she dotted an 'i' in her notes with such vehemence that it punctured the paper.
"What the hell were you doing in my purse?"
"At the movies. You were paying for the Tango Ice Blasts, but you had to go to the ladies' room so you left me in charge." Zach felt rather proud of his sleuthing skills. "And - bam! - there it was. A picture of Zac Efron. In your purse."
Magenta opened her mouth, closed it again, and then repeated the process like some bizarre fish. Zach tried not to find this too cute, seeing as he was supposed to be mad at her and all.
"I bet you've even watched High School Musical," he said gravely.
He could almost see the apoplectic meltdown going on inside Magenta's head. Instantly, she blushed a magnificent shade of scarlet, tipped Zach off of her bed and shoved him towards her bedroom door, sending notes spraying in every direction. It was as good a confession as any.
"I think you should go."
"Fine, I'll see you at school-"
But the door had already slammed, leaving Zach to wonder if that was the last he would ever see of his almost-girlfriend's room.
---
The next day at the bus stop Magenta stormed up to him, typically purple purse in hand.
"Open it up."
Zach hesitated.
"What, it's not going to bite you."
He had his doubts, but took the purse nonetheless, rifling through assorted receipts and crumpled dollars. Finally, in the same spot that he had discovered the magazine clipping of Zac Efron, he found what he had been looking for.
It was a photo booth picture of the two of them that Zach had coaxed Magenta into taking one time at the mall. The snapshot was blurry; he had started glowing in the darkness of the booth; she was glaring into the camera because he was all out of change and she had been forced to pay - but it was most certainly not a plastic Disney prince. It was Zach.
"Are you happy now?" she snapped, scowling. Zach, not much caring that about the whole sophomore class was watching - or maybe caring a little, because he didn't do what he wanted to, which was sweep her off her feet into the best movie star kiss you've ever seen - gathered Magenta up into his arms and hugged her tight.