Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, I'm making no money off of this, and yes, I'm wearing pants right now. In case you needed to know that bit of obvious information, too. ;-)

Author's Note: Welcome to the world of Chad Danforth. Follow him as he explains his thoughts about his actions from the tail end of the first movie all the way through the second. Please enjoy, and please review.

I, Chad Danforth, never thought I would be like him, Troy Bolton.

When we first met in kindergarten, I shoved him into the coat rack because he cut my place in line for the bathroom. I stole his snacks when he wasn't looking. I even poked him all the time during naptime because I can't sleep during the day.

He never complained to the teacher, though. And one day, when another boy, much bigger than either of us at the time, tried to take my mini-basketball away from me during recess, Troy leapt on his back and started wailing on him.

When he was let out of time-out, I asked him why he did it.

"It was right," he said simply.

Nobody shoved, stole from, or poked Troy from that point on.

And yet, as we were reading stories to each other in first grade, I couldn't help but think that Troy's was better than mine.

And as we worked together on dioramas in second grade, I felt like Troy's twist-tie dinosaurs looked so much more real than mine.

And on it went:

Third grade: Troy's cursive looked smoother.

Fourth grade: Troy could hula hoop for longer than I could.

Fifth grade: Troy got picked to play basketball with the sixth graders when they were short a player at recess.

Sixth grade: Troy got better grades - in everything - than I did.

Seventh grade: Troy made it further in the spelling bee - and he didn't even practice for three days straight like I did.

Eighth grade: Chastity Suncreek kissed Troy instead of me.

Ninth grade: Troy had girls asking him to homecoming, but I had to ask my date.

Tenth grade: Troy got to be a teacher's assistant for my favorite gym teacher, Mr. Allevon - not me.

And, finally the big one:

Eleventh grade: Troy got to be good at theater - and accepted for it.

Now by this time I was pretty much resigned to the fact that I was never going to be as good as Troy. It didn't make it hurt any less, but I was used to it. And I thought I was okay with it.

But...

Troy started drifting away. He wasn't always there in practice like he had been, and when he was there, he wasn't all there. He'd be humming in the showers instead of talking trash with the other guys. He'd be missing easy lay-ups because he kept looking at the clock behind the basket when he went to score.

But did we kick him off the team? Tell him to snap out of it or else? Promote me to captain and bench him?

No.

No, we fought for him. Fought to get him back. Because Troy was worth it.

(Had it been me, Coach would have just benched me. Even if I was Troy's best friend. I just know it.)

And we got him back - but he didn't have to give up the theater.

Because...

Because, damn it, Troy was fucking good!

He and Gabriella brought down the house!

And he got a girl - another girl - before I even got a chance to try for her.

So, not thinking for a second that I wanted to be like Troy - the thought never crossed my mind, which seems funny now that I look back, because I was so obviously trying - I went after Taylor.

And I got her.

We hung out. We kissed. We did some...other stuff.

Not sex.

Just...other stuff.

And we talked. Talked about life, and college, and senior year. And when we started at Lava Springs - all because of Troy, again - we talked about that. About how Troy was drifting, again.

And again we tried to get him back. We fought for him. Because Troy was worth it.

(Had it been me, Taylor would have said to just let me go through this rebellious phase. Even if I was her boyfriend. I just know it.)

So, not thinking for a second that I was acting like Troy - if the thought had crossed my mind, I would have probably scratched my brain out of my head, because I was NOT an asshole like Troy - I went after Ryan.

And I got him.

We hung out. We played 'ball. We didn't do anything else.

Besides talk. Talked about life, and college, and senior year. He told me how much Sharpay really did get on his nerves. I complained about how much of an asshole Troy was being. We joked that they were perfect for each other: the bastard and his bitch.

(What an idiot I was.)

It never occurred to me that I was being just like Troy - not until a couple of days before the Talent Show, when everybody was trying to think of a way to get them back together.

"She's miserable," Taylor said. She had gone to visit Gabriella at her house - she hadn't left it all week long, just stayed holed up in there, cleaning, reading, and eating.

"He's miserable," I wanted to say, but I couldn't. I didn't know what Troy was feeling. How could I? He was the one who shut ME out. I wasn't about to go over to his house and be all buddy-buddy again.

(But I knew. I knew he was moping. More than moping - he was miserable. Probably locked up in his room, mouthing off to his mom and telling his dad to go mind his own business. But even that wasn't what Troy would have done - it's what I would've done. Again trying to be like Troy.)

"I've got an idea," Ryan said after a few minutes, "But it's going to take everyone's help."

He stared straight at me.

And then I understood.

I was being just like Troy.

I had started dating Taylor because I wanted to have a girl - just like Troy.

And I wanted to say, "Look, Troy - you can't have this. She's mine."

I had started hanging out with Ryan because I wanted to have cool friends that were a step above me - just like Troy with those college basketball guys.

And I wanted to say, "Look, Troy - you can't have this. He's mine."

I wanted to scream - or cry - but I didn't.

I just nodded.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked.

And then I started to change.

I started using my truck money on Taylor. She didn't ask why I suddenly started buying her things or taking her places (even if we had to take the bus) and buying her dinner - I think she knew. She knew that I had wanted a truck - just like Troy.

And I had wanted to say, "Look Troy - I've got it too. You're not special."

But I was different now. And she started holding my hand and smiling a lot more often.

I started really being there for Ryan. He didn't ask why I suddenly started offering advice on how to deal with Sharpay, or going to the mall with him and even shopping for clothes together - I think he knew. He knew that I had wanted a new friend - just like Troy.

And I had wanted to say, "Look Troy - I've got it too. You're not special."

But I was different now. And he started wearing blue jeans and smiling a lot more often.

The night of the Talent Show, I was nothing but happy when I saw Troy's confused face, even from the server's station.

Before, I might've been cynical or judgmental: "This is your last chance, idiot - don't fuck it up."

Now, I was just happy: "Welcome back, Troy. You two really deserve each other."

But I wasn't done changing - not quite yet.

The Pool Party made me realize something very important about myself. But I didn't figure it out right away.

"It's almost time," Gabriella gushed, squeezing Troy's hand. We all laughed.

"I can't wait," Troy whispered in her ear. They were head-over-heels again. Like they should be. We all couldn't help but smile.

"So this is how it's going to work," Sharpay started. I wasn't really comfortable with her - still - but for Ryan's sake I decided to give her a shot. He said that when she liked you, she was almost freakishly protective. A little like I was with Troy. Like Taylor was of Gabriella.

"We're going to all walk up together," she continued.

"Troy, Gabriella, and Chad on the left," Ryan jumped in.

"And Taylor, Ryan, and I on the right," Sharpay finished.

"Then we're just going to let it fly," Ryan added.

"Let what fly?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

"Kelsi's new song," Taylor said instantly. When she saw my expression, she quickly squeezed my hand. It didn't help.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not singing!" I protested.

"What did you think we were going to do? Elvis impersonations?" Sharpay shot back. Ryan put a hand on her shoulder.

"I thought we were going to be, y'know, I dunno, giving some sorta speech or something. Y'know, rile people up. Get 'em into the party spirit," I explained.

Sharpay blinked, then softened. Just a little, but I saw it. (I just chose to ignore it at the time.)

"You're afraid, aren't you, Danforth?" she accused. (Yet even then she wanted to know to help me get over it. Sharpay hates it when people can't be themselves - especially if they're holding back on stage.)

Troy bristled a little; Gabriella squeezed his hand in support.

"Chad's not afraid of anything!" he quickly affirmed. I thought it was an obligatory thing to say. (But he really does believe that - I couldn't believe it when he told me it again, later. But with Troy, you know he says what he means, even when he puts his foot in his mouth. He can't help telling the truth, because it's right.)

"Just give it a try," Ryan coaxed, "And if you don't like it, I'll get Zeke or Jason to cover for you." I thought he was challenging me, too. Saying I was inadequate. (But again I was ignoring who I'd found Ryan to be: compassionate to everyone, even if he felt like he couldn't always show it.)

"You're right on the end," Taylor reminded me, "You can zip out of there when everyone's looking at our side." More obligation, because she was my girlfriend. (But it was just support. They were all supporting me.)

"Taylor 'n' I can help you with the words. It's pretty easy, once you get the hang of it," Gabriella chimed in. Condescending. (Supportive.)

"And Troy and I can teach you the dance steps. It's all intuitive," Ryan promised. More condescension. (More support.)

I shook my head. I couldn't speak - fear had its hands around my throat.

"C'mon, man. This is the one thing we haven't been able to do together, and it's a whole lotta fun. Besides, I've never even heard you sing," Troy wheedled, grinning.

And it suddenly all fell into place: these people were my friends. They just wanted to have fun, and they wanted me to have fun with them. (Fear's grip loosened a little.)

While Troy was wrong about this being the only thing we hadn't been able to do together, he didn't mention that this would be my chance to be myself and yet still be like him. (Fear's grip loosened a bit more.)

To share a few of his traits, but still be me. To have my own voice, but make it blend. To have some of the same genes, but still look different, like brothers. (Fear ran away.)

I smiled.

"All right, I'm in. But if you make me look like an idiot, I'm never going to forgive you. Either of you," I added, including Ryan, who broke into a smile.

So Taylor and Gabriella taught me the words while Sharpay played it over and over, as many times as I needed. I didn't know that she played.

"I'm not as good as Kelsi," she admitted, when I told her.

"You sound really good, Chad," Gabriella told me.

"You do realize you're going to have to serenade me now on our dates," Taylor joked.

(Maybe we were all growing.)

Then Ryan and Troy taught me the dance moves.

"You've got rhythm. What was this crap about 'I don't dance'?" Ryan teased.

"You've got it, man. Told ya it'd be easy," Troy said.

We went out there, together. We sang. Kelsi was singing behind us - I could hear her. Martha, Zeke, and Jason were getting the crowd into it - I could see them.

(We were all growing.)

When it was all over, and I was all sung and danced and swum out, I laid on one of the beach chaises and watched everyone splashing around in the water. Zeke was dunking Ryan. Troy and Gabriella were kissing, again. Taylor, Sharpay, and Martha were all floating on rafts. Kelsi and Jason were playing Marco Polo with the rest of the Wildcats.

And that's where I am now. Peaceful, calm, and entirely pleased with myself. I had fun today.

And I really feel like I've changed, for the better. Troy's not my role model, for good or bad, anymore. I'm not going to try to be like him, or try not to be like him; if I end up sharing some of his better traits, then great. And if I end up sharing some of his worse traits, then great, too, because I'll learn and grow and hopefully get past them.

I'm just going to live my life for me, now. I'm going to do what I want for the people I love. Take things as they come. Don't take people for granted. Live, love, and support.

And as I think about all of these things, something bubbles up in my throat and comes streaming out of my mouth, the perfect summary of the scene:

"This is right."

Author's Note: Like it? Lump it? Tell me why! Just submit a review - all comments welcome. :-)