MAC N' CHEESE

If she could get a genie and have three wishes at that very second, Gabi would've chosen that moment without a second thought. The night was almost perfect, but there were three things that would make it the most blissful memory she'd ever had.

Troy needed to kiss her… right then.

Troy needed to hold her hand… like in the old movies.

He simply had to quit staring stupidly into space. I mean, if a guy's nervous, okay, but he was clearly stalling way too long.

"Troy?" she said quietly, wishing she had some generous fairy godmother. "Could you… hold my hand?"

He jumped a little. "Why?" he asked, looking thoroughly confused. He was so cute confused.

He was really cute, no matter what, even when he was stalling like he was then. His hair had darkened with age, and his voice had lowered, which made him seem a whole more mature than he had been when they'd first met. Back then, he seemed like just another boy. Now, he seemed like…

"Gabi?" he said, nudging her a little. "Why do you want me to hold your hand?"

So we can have a romantic moment, you gormless twit. "I – I'm going to, uh, lean over the edge of the hill," she said carefully, choosing her words gingerly. "So… I don't want to fall and get grass stains on my dress." She gestured at her cotton print summer dress, over which she'd labored painstakingly just the previous night, releasing the hem so it could cover her legs. She had taken herself to this task after Troy had revealed to her that he hated girls who showed too much skin.

He still looked clueless. She wanted to smack him upside, no matter how much she liked him. "Just hold my hand, okay?" she said, forcing a grin. Shrugging, he entwined his fingers loosely in hers. There were definitely sparks of chemistry, but they were ruined because he clearly wasn't into it. She sighed and pretended to retrieve something from the grass. Three wishes…

Troy was totally and utterly lost. He thought he'd done such a good job of planning. Since Gabi had said that she liked quiet romantic dates, he'd gone with his Dad's old dating motto: Keep It Simple, Stupid. KISS. He'd packed a dinner basket with cold macaroni and cheese, pasta salad, regular lettuce, tomatoes and feta cheese cooked in a knish, and homemade brownies for desert. There was also some yoghurt and small snacks Mrs. Bolton had thrown into the basket. It'd taken hours to get it ready, and Gabi seemed like she really liked it, but she was looking restless now, her eyes had a kind of dispassionate gleam, like something wasn't really satisfactory, but he couldn't figure it out what. He'd made several excuses to disappear into the portable john at the side of the park to which he'd taken her. He'd checked his fly, readjusted his shirt, gelled back his hair some more, even rinsed out his mouth in case he had icky residue stuck in his teeth.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong, and it was scaring him. Was she just bored of him? Was she going to move onto bigger and better things soon, maybe even break up with him tonight? Visions filled his head of her with another boyfriend, a senior in high school, someone who could meet her demands… someone more mature, maybe? Now she was holding onto his hand, hanging over the edge of the hill, which she'd been doing for a good two minutes. "What're you doing?" he tried to ask nonchalantly. She resurfaced, her face flushed rosily from being upside down. "Oh… I thought I dropped my ring… but I found it!" she exclaimed brightly, wiggling her fingers in his face to show the number of birthstone, promise, and inscription rings she'd donned.

"Oh." He was pretty sure she'd had all those rings on before she dunked down.

"Well… this is nice." She was fidgeting like crazy. Her hand was still in his, making him nervous. Really nervous – what did she want? Why was she holding his hand? If he could just find a way to surreptitiously check his breath. Maybe that was it!

"The spinach pasta salad was good," she said, in a way that made him pretty sure she was fishing for something to say.

Why couldn't girls ever be satisfied with silence? It seemed like they always needed to talk. Her chattiness was usually endearing, but right now he just needed a little time to think, space to figure out what he was doing wrong.

KISS. Simple, stupid, nothing to it – "How's school?" he blurted. Realizing the stupidity of what he'd just said, he resisted the urge to smack himself on the forehead.

"Uh…" Gabi looked at her lap, clearly understanding that Troy was just being idiotic.

KISS. He couldn't think of anything. God, why was it so complicated? KISS…

KISS ME! Gabi wanted to scream it at his bewildered face. How hard was it to pucker up and smooch? Sharpay was always kissing her boyfriends, all the time. The drama geeks, football players, and all the boys she attracted like magnets. If Sharpay Evans could do it, it was most definitely NOT rocket science.

Troy removed his hands from hers carefully. His palms were clammy and gross. She closed her eyes and begged for divine inspiration.

She turned towards him instinctively and placed her hands around his neck, entwining a few fingers in his luscious hair. "Troy," she said softly. She looked up, trying to look sappy, feeling like a dork. "Troy…"
He looked seriously scared. What was she going to do now? She couldn't kiss him; that was tacky. The boy just had to kiss the girl. He just had to. At least, on the first kiss. Maybe later, like in marriage, the girl could make the move. But not till then, she had to wait for him to come to his non-existent senses.

"Gabi, everything okay?" he reached up a hand awkwardly and patted hers, the one in his hair.

"Troy," she said. "Um…"

"Gabi," he said, sounding like he wanted to say something. "I…"

Man, she was close. Close enough for him to smell her perfume, the scent of which had faded into the fresh night's air. He could smell the traces of it now, though, mixed with her apple shampoo. He loved how natural she was, that she didn't use all the hairsprays that the rest of the girls used, never wore the fancy bangles and jewelry and miniskirts that everyone else did. She was so much like herself, beautiful and clean and pure. Even without aid of processed products, she was gorgeous. Up close like this, he could see how smooth her skin was, peachy and rosy and glowing. What was she doing? He could feel her fingers tugging a little at her hair; it felt good, but it was strange. All of a sudden she was just on top of him. Even her legs were slowly moving over his. Why was she sitting on him? She looked just as scared and confused as he was. "Troy," she said, closing her eyes. She wasn't wearing any makeup, but her eyelashes looked longer than any of the girls who put the black gunk on their eyes.

"Gabi, what are you doing?"

"I don't know," she said truthfully, looking down. "I just… I really like you, Troy Bolton."

"I like you, Gabi Montez." He reached up and took her hands out of his hair, off his neck. "You can… just tell me what's going on, how's that?" he smiled, trying to look charming and suave, feeling like he was the stupidest guy on earth.

"You're my kindergarten buddy, Troy," she said quietly. "I feel like I've grown up with you. I really like you. Really, really like you. We've been dating for a while… since the winter musical… I mean, school is almost over, Troy, it's been like six months…"

He had no idea what she was getting at.

"I think we should have our first kiss," she said quickly, like she'd wanted to say it all night and was finally ready to let it out.

He was too shocked to speak for a second. Her hands were still resting in his, but it wasn't awkward like before, it was real and it felt good. "Kiss?" he said softly. She'd never come out with anything like that before, so bluntly. In fact, till then, he hadn't even realized that she was having those thoughts. Still, she was a girl, not some thoughtless alien. Much as he would've liked to think she just lived their relationship in the moment, it was Gabi, she always had a plan, and apparently her plan had been bottled up so long she was really eager tro get it out.

"Our first kiss, yeah." She scooted forward a little, towards him, as far forward as she could go without being pressed up uncomfortably against him. "Come on, Troy, I mean, just a quick thing. To show… we really like each other, you know?"

Suddenly he understood. She didn't want to kiss. It wasn't for the kissing she was asking. It was just that she thought everyone had to, to landmark their relationship, show they really cared about each other. Because even though they knew how much they liked each other, they needed proof to show to the world. It made sense, actually. That was Gabi. Sensible Gabi, loveable Gabi…

"Sure," he said, shifting his weight. "Let's do it. Just… to show, right?"

"Yeah, not to actually do it," she said, looking relieved. "Just a little, okay?" they were both cautious; he could sense that his feelings were shared. Neither was exactly convinced on the idea, but they'd already committed. He didn't even know how to go about kissing a girl.

Gabi's insides were squirming with excitement and trepidation. Her first kiss was coming on, full steam ahead, and she was eager and frightened. This would mark her becoming a real girl with a real boyfriend, and she felt like a snake shedding the skin of childhood years. She wanted to cling onto the skin as long as possible. She thought then, suddenly, what her mother would have to say about the whole thing, and her dad, somewhere in New York City, if he even cared which he probably didn't.

Then Taylor's face came up, like an annoying conscience bubble. "Just do it!" she could hear Taylor hissing, much like she'd hissed to Gabi at the scholastic decathlon when she'd frozen up. Just like with Troy, singing, just doing it, like she was a fearless five-year-old again.

"Shall we?" Troy said hesitantly. They leaned toward each other, close enough for their noses to barely touch. She looked at his eye – she could only see one eye, they were so close – and inhaled sharply, feeling claustrophobic. But if she drew back, she knew they'd never get around to it.

"OK," she more breathed than said. They leaned just a little bit closer, just enough. She squeezed her eyes shut and went forward, feeling like she was stepping off of a cliff. She felt Troy's body tense up; she jerked spastically, and then they both relaxed, synchronized, feeling like they were singing together again onstage at the callbacks – only, this time, it was completely nonverbal.