AUTHOR'S NOTE: Despite its ridiculous title, Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure is, well, pretty near fabulous.

Surprisingly, given that the majority of spinoffs of nearly any series are usually never worth watching, SFA is my favorite film in the HSM franchise. I just wish more people knew about this movie, because it had the character development I always wanted for Sharpay Evans and finally made her the lead of her own movie (which, honestly, should have been the case from the start). SFA also gave her a much more fulfilling relationship with Peyton Leverett. I can see them actually lasting as a couple, more than her "relationships" with Zeke or Troy or anyone else at East High.

And then I started thinking about how Peyton would affect the events of the main series, had he been present in Albuquerque during the first three HSM films. He's told to keep an eye on the daughter of his mother's best friend from college, and a spinoff is the first time we hear about him? Really? The Evans family are so incredibly social Sharpay realistically must have met him at least once before landing in New York.

So why not a fusion fic?

The title is from "Some Things Are Meant To Be" from Little Women, because I feel there's an unwritten rule that fics about Sharpay must have titles borrowed from musicals.

1996

Sharpay Evans runs her twin brother through with a sword.

In the six-year-old's imagination, the rolled-up printer paper clutched in her hand is a shining blade, Ryan is an evil prince trying to steal her crown, and she is a princess defending her castle. She whacks her brother in the ribs, and Ryan collapses, moaning with all the dramatic finesse of a first grader. When he finally quiets, chest heaving as he lies in a heap on the grass, a taller figure runs over.

"Princess!"

Sharpay looks up at Peyton Leverett, and her seven-year-old neighbor looks down at his lines. She huffs, impatient for the older boy to continue, and he finally finds his place in the script.

"Have you slain Prince Ryan?" Peyton asks.

Sharpay plants a pink-sandaled foot on Ryan's chest and lifts her rolled-up script triumphantly into the air. "I have indeed, Sir Peyton!"

"Don't you hear your people singing your praises?"

At Peyton's words, he and Sharpay are greeted with silence. She shoots a glare at the audience, and the adults applaud; the Leveretts' cheer enthusiastically, but Darby has to elbow her husband for Vance to even look up from his pager and clap half-heartedly.

"I battled Prince Ryan for their sake," Sharpay continues.

"I have two questions, princess," Peyton adds.

"What?"

He bends down to pluck a daisy chain from the lawn, the woven flowers nearly falling apart as he holds it aloft. "Will you accept the crown and become queen?"

"Yes!" she squeals, finally removing her right foot from Ryan's chest to bounce in the grass on the balls of her feet. The six-year-old stills, however, fiercely holding a serious expression as Peyton places the daisy chain on top of her head.

"I have another question," he continues, looking down at his script.

"Yes?"

Wrinkled paper in hand, he goes down on one knee. "Will you marry me, Your Majesty?"

She extends a hand and deadpans, "I thought you'd never ask."

As the adults laugh, Peyton brushes his lips against the back of Sharpay's hand. Sharpay pulls her hand back, turns to the audience, and announces, "The end!"

She bows, ignoring the seven-year-old boy and her six-year-old brother getting to their feet behind her. "Wonderful!" Sarah Leverett calls to Peyton and their neighbors, her smile mirroring by her husband John's grin as they continue to applaud.

"Vance," Darby whispers, and Sharpay watches her mother nudge her father. He finally looks up from his pager as his wide-eyed daughter approaches his lawn chair.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, dear?" he says distractedly as his pager beeps again.

"What did you think?"

The home phone rings from the depths of the house, and Vance stands up. "Very nice," he says, patting his daughter on the top of her golden head before going inside.

Sharpay feels like she has been punched in the stomach.

"Did you write that play yourself?" Sarah asks gently, and the young girl looks up at her neighbor.

"Yes," Sharpay says, but tears are welling in her eyes.

"It was very good," Peyton's mother adds softly.

Sharpay nods, sniffing. "I know."

"Hey, Sharpay!" She turns at Peyton's voice, and he calls, "Want to go swimming?"

The young girl glances back at the house, but her father is deep in conversation with whoever is on the other line. So she runs after Ryan and Peyton, daisies tangled in her golden hair.

1997

Vance isn't even in New Mexico for Sharpay and Ryan's seventh birthday.

He manages a call, and says that he wishes he were home instead of overseeing the new golf course in California. Sharpay still cries after he hangs up, but the guests will be arriving soon; Troy Bolton even said he might come. So she wipes away her tears and helps her mother and their housekeeper, Josefina Hernandez, make sure everything is perfect for the party. Peyton arrives first, having only to walk from directly next door, and he hands a box wrapped in bright pink wrapping paper to Josefina before sitting with Sharpay on the edge of the pool, their legs dangling in the water.

"Happy birthday, kid," the eight-year-old says.

Her dark eyes snap up to meet his. "Don't call me that."

"Sorry." He holds up his hands in mock defense. "Where's your dad? I didn't see him."

She looks down at the light reflecting off the water in the pool. "He's in California."

"Oh."

"Señorita Evans," Josefina calls from the deck, "more guests have arrived for your party."

"I have to go," Sharpay tells Peyton as she stands, chlorinated water dripping from her skin.

"See you later," he offers as she quickly rubs her legs dry with a towel, because she can't be soaking wet when Troy arrives.

"See you," she calls as she hurries into the house to find Troy.

2003

"But why?" she cries with all the indignation of a mortified thirteen-year-old.

"Because they are available on short notice," Josefina says as she rings the doorbell. "It will only be for half an hour at most."

"But-" Sharpay sputters as Peyton opens the door.

"Good evening, Mrs. Hernandez."

"Good evening, señor Leverett. Are your parents home?"

"They went out for dinner."

"Oh." Josefina sighs. "I have to pick up something from a liquor store for señor and señorita Evans for a recipe. I don't want to take the twins into the store with me, you see…"

Sharpay bristles at the vague the twins description as Peyton offers, "They can hang out over here."

"Gracias," Josefina says gratefully.

He smiles. "No problem."

But Sharpay is positive there is a problem, because she and Ryan are thirteen and don't need a babysitter. To make matters worse, Peyton is fourteen and in high school now. But Peyton is already welcoming them inside, and Sharpay flushes as she stands in the foyer with Ryan. The house is beautiful, as is every home in the Lava Springs neighborhood, yet she notices that it's not quite as nice as her home right next door. But Peyton's parents aren't golf course architects, after all, and don't own the country club.

"Want to watch a movie?" Peyton suggests. "We won't be able to finish anything before your housekeeper gets back, but we can start something to pass the time."

Ryan tilts his head. "What movies do you have?"

Their neighbor glances at Sharpay before answering Ryan. "Let's take a look."

The Leveretts' VHS and DVD collection is nothing like what the Evans' have at home; Sharpay can't find anything with princesses or singing, and they don't even have any Disney films. All they have is the like of Jurassic Park, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Planet of the Apes.

"Let's watch Top Gun!" Ryan says, the thin thirteen-year-old trying to appear as tall as possible as he looks up at Peyton. The older boy shrugs, adjusting his West High soccer jersey.

"Well, you two might not be old enough for it…"

"We can handle it," Ryan says quickly, lifting his chin.

"Let's not watch that," Sharpay says through her nose.

"Why not?" Peyton asks. "Have you ever seen it?"

"Well, no."

"It does have girls in it." Peyton pauses. "Okay, it really has only one. But she's an officer."

"I don't care," Sharpay retorts, glaring at Ryan.

Her neighbor's gaze darts between the twins. "Do you not want to watch it just because your brother picked it first?"

"No!" Sharpay sputters. "I just – well – It's a boy movie!"

"Look," Peyton says, "if you can find something else you want to watch, we'll vote on it."

Sharpay sulks through the first fifteen minutes of Top Gun until Josefina comes back.

2004

Sharpay cries for so long in the bathroom after school that Ryan asks Taylor McKessie to see if his sister is alright.

The blonde fourteen-year-old yells at the other freshman to leave her alone, because Taylor successfully got a date to Sadie Hawkins with Chad. Taylor didn't plan an elaborate proposal that backfired at lunch, and Taylor didn't get turned down by Troy in front of the entire school. But Sharpay has to leave the bathroom eventually, and she finds her brother waiting in the hall.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asks sincerely, but she doesn't want his pity. What she does want is for Troy to have said yes. She wants all the work she put into the carefully choreographed dance number to have paid off. She wants people to stop laughing at her. She wants the school to forget her humiliation.

"I'm fine," she snaps, because for once she doesn't want her brother trailing after her or people surrounding her or anyone breathing in her general direction.

She just wants to be alone.

But she can't have solitude until she gets home, so she marches out the front doors of East High, Ryan following quietly after her. She barely acknowledges Josefina as the fraternal twins get in their father's second Mustang, and Sharpay pretends everything is fine until they reach home. Grabbing her pink backpack, she runs to her room, slams the door, throws herself on her bed, and starts crying all over again.

She finally goes downstairs, once her dehydration and hunger are too much to ignore. Josefina gently tries to talk to her as Sharpay eats dinner; evidentially Ryan had revealed some of the details of his sister's humiliation. But though normally Sharpay would scream and shout, she all but ignores the woman, goes out to the swing set in the backyard, and wonders how she will be able to face anyone at East High again.

"Hey."

She looks up, red eyes wide, and sees Peyton looking over the fence dividing their backyards. "Hey," she says flatly.

"What's wrong?"

"You didn't hear?" she says bitterly. "It has to be over all of Albuquerque by now."

"No, I didn't," Peyton says, and pauses. "How about letting me in through your gate? I'm all ears."

Sharpay almost turns him down, but gets up and unlocks the wooden gate. He follows her across her lawn, and the fifteen-year-old boy sits down in the other swing. "What happened?"

Part of her doesn't want to tell him, because he's a boy and enough people know already. But Peyton doesn't even go to East High and her chest is tightening and she feels like she will explode if she doesn't talk.

So she draws in a shuddering breath.

"I asked a guy from my school to Sadie Hawkins. And he said no. In front of the entire cafeteria. At lunch."

Peyton patiently waits for her to continue.

"Basically the entire school saw." Her eyes well up. "I wrote him a song, and I don't even like writing music. But I worked on it for two months. Ryan and my friends danced while I sang, and it was perfect." Her throat constricts. "But he said he didn't think of me as anything more than a friend." She pauses, and adds through her nose in a sarcastic imitation of her crush's voice, "But thanks for the song!"

Snot is dripping from her nose. "And then I started crying and hid in the bathroom. But I couldn't miss choir in the next class period, so I had to face everyone and then my voice cracked during my solo and I sounded terrible. Everyone was whispering about me all day. Normally I like it when people talk about me, but not like this."

She nearly starts to hyperventilate. "How can I go back to school tomorrow? How can I face everyone? How–"

"Sharpay."

She looks at him, vision blurred with tears, and chokes out, "What?"

"Breathe," he says gently.

She tries, she really does, but none of the breathing exercises from choir seem to work and she's sure she has mascara smeared on her cheeks and she feels like she's going to die.

"Breathe," Peyton repeats. "You can do it, Sharpay."

Finally she is able to gasp in deep breaths, and eventually quiets to the occasional sniff when he asks, "Have you ever thought about getting a therapy dog?"

She stares at her neighbor. "That was random."

"My cousin has one. A Yorkie or something. It really helps her with her stress."

"I don't need therapy." Sharpay doesn't mention that Josefina had told her mother that Sharpay and Ryan might benefit from counseling. But Sharpay isn't broken. "I'm just… stressed. By a lot of things."

"It's just to help you calm down a bit."

"I'm fine," she insists. "Okay, maybe not right now. But overall, I'm normal."

"Oh, you're not normal," he says, but he's not mocking or teasing. He's got this weird tone to his voice and he's staring at her and she doesn't know what to do.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant that in the best way possible way," he amends quickly. "It's just… You're so different from everyone else. You're…" He looks straight into her dark eyes. "Well, you're special. You stand out."

"I do?" she asks breathlessly.

He nods. "If anyone is going to get out of this place, it's you, Shar."

Only her family calls her by that nickname, but for some reason she doesn't correct him. "Really?"

"Of course." He looks over her head back at the house, and she turns to see Josefina watching them from a kitchen window.

Peyton stands, the chains of the swing creaking. "Think about the therapy dog idea, okay?"

Sharpay rolls her eyes. "I don't need one."

"Just think about it." He smiles, and she watches him leave before going inside herself to wipe away her ruined mascara.

That Christmas, her parents give Ryan a Persian cat and Sharpay a Yorkshire Terrier.

2006

A sixteen-year-old Sharpay has no idea that Nancy in the school's fall semester show, Oliver! Junior, is her last role at East High that another girl will not steal from her.

Vance and Darby aren't even in Albuquerque when the first of the weekend of performances begin. Their parents call their children from Florida on opening night, but it is Josefina who sits in the front row and Peyton who gives Sharpay a bouquet of roses.

2007

Sharpay finally lets each sore muscle in her tired body relax, allowing herself to sink into the chair as she observes the crowded pool from behind her dark sunglasses.

Putting together a knockout song with choreography that Ryan is suddenly refusing to help with is harder than she anticipated. But they've both grown up seeing Broadway tours at the Popejoy Hall; and she's watched enough YouTube videos of Bob Fosse and Jerome Robbins and Susan Stroman's choreography to throw something together. She closes her eyes with a sigh, tilting her head back to let the sun warm her face as she contemplates how many jazz squares she can put into The Music In Me.

As a shadow that falls over her face, her eyes snap open to see two college students standing at the foot of her pool chair.

"Looking good, sweetheart."

"Thanks," she replies awkwardly, looking up at the two twentysomethings. They are both shirtless with toned bodies, but they keep looking her up and down.

"You should wear a bikini," the one in the green swim trunks suggests, and Sharpay glances down at her pink one-piece. "It would show off your figure better."

She forces a smile, not knowing how to respond. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see some of her classmates watching from various vantage points around the pool, but none of them say a word. The Sharpettes in their own chairs beside her don't speak up; Gabriella, seated in the lifeguard's tower as she flirts with Troy, doesn't even notice.

"Hey, babe, do you want to get out of here?" asks the other college student in the blue swim trunks.

"I'm fine right here, thanks," she replies, heart pounding. "I'm trying to tan, and you're blocking the sun."

"We're giving you compliments, and you tell us to move?" say the one in green, suddenly furious.

The one in blue steps forward. "You ungrateful little b-"

"Hey!"

Peyton walks up in his blue Lava Springs polo, a stack of fresh towels under his arm, and plants himself between Sharpay's chair and the college students. "She's seventeen. Leave her alone."

Everyone in the pool watches as the one in green takes a step back. "She looks like she's in college."

"Doesn't matter," Peyton says firmly. "Back off."

"Let's go, man," says the one in blue, and the two college students head for the clubhouse. Sharpay's heart is still trying to leap past her ribcage as Peyton turns to face her.

"You alright, Shar?"

"Of course," she says, managing to keep her voice even as she swings her legs over the side of the chair and looks for her towel. When she realizes she forgot to grab one, her mind races with potential scenarios of meeting the two college students again without even a towel to hide behind. Normally she always wants to show off her expensive clothes and trim figure, but she suddenly wants a barrier to keep people from ogling her and her hands are starting to shake and she's getting lightheaded and–

"Here," Peyton says, handing her one of the towels he carried, and she accepts it gratefully. "I'm supposed to be handing out these anyway." He looks across the pool to the clubhouse as she wraps the towel around her torso. "Do you have someone to walk you to the locker room? I'm on the clock here at the pool, but I don't want you cornered somewhere."

Now Sharpay's heart leaps into her throat. "I have my friends."

"We'll go to the locker room with you," Lea says as she gets up from her chair, Emma and Jackie following suit.

"I have to keep handing out these towels," Peyton says, "but stay safe, alright?"

"Alright." Her voice betrays her as she bends down to gather her belongings, shoving her sunscreen and suntan lotion bottles into her bag as she holds the towel firmly around her.

Two weeks later after the talent show that she doesn't win, she allows Zeke to kiss her as fireworks explode in the sky for Fourth of July. He's here and Troy's not and she wants to say she had her first kiss in high school.

Zeke tentatively presses his lips to hers, and he's too shy and going too slow for how she imagine this moment to happen, but suddenly she can't make herself move. But when he finally deepens the kiss, she steps back, forces out a cheerful "Thanks!" and runs.

And no, kissing Zeke is not a reaction to that day at the pool with the college students, thank you very much.

But she doesn't tell anyone about kissing her classmate and goes home to rub off her lip gloss mixed with Zeke's saliva. She impulsively pulls on a sweatshirt and sweatpants even though it is almost a hundred degrees, and stares at the ceiling fan turning above her as Boi curls up against her stomach.

2008

The Leveretts are, of course, invited to the lavish graduation party at the Evans' next door, and while Sharpay is answering questions about her college plans, she spots Peyton across the room. Striding confidently through the crowd, she walks up only to overhear her neighbor's conversation about I met Lily in my Introduction to Film class and we were paired for a project and so I asked her out after we turned in the assignment.

Sharpay, blinking, stares at the back of the college student's head. It is strange enough not to see him nearly every day in Albuquerque, given that he attends New York University. But Peyton, having a girlfriend? Absurd. She's never known him to go out with anyone in all the years she's grown up with him.

Peyton is… Peyton.

She turns on her heel and walks away through the crowd.

2009

Sharpay comes home for Christmas from her first semester at the University of Albuquerque with no intention of going back.

Even in a school as large as East High, she had been the best performer in the whole student body. She had always wanted to stay on stage after everyone else had left rehearsals, wanted to sing a few minute longer, and be a part of drama and choir classes simply more than anyone else. But college is a completely different playing field, and she's not even the best in her freshman class, let alone the entire music and theatre departments.

Ryan, of course, is thriving at Julliard. He keeps telling stories about his legendary professors and the immense talent of his classmates and how his roommate left their first semester to join the national tour of The Phantom of the Opera. Sharpay pretends she's most upset that she had to find out over Facebook that Ryan and Kelsi are officially dating, and not the fact that college is so easy for her brother.

Her parents are finally home from Australia, but for once Sharpay takes the first opportunity to leave the house. She's surprised to see Peyton moving snow from his parent's driveway as she walks by.

"How's it going?" he says, setting down his shovel.

"Okay," she lies. "How's New York?"

"Great. How's U of A?"

Her gut clenches.

"I don't think I'm going back," Sharpay blurts out, her breath a white puff at her lips in the freezing air.

"Why not?" Peyton asks, and she is grateful he doesn't sound judgmental or disapproving, the two things she expects from her parents. So just like the evening after Troy turned down her Sadie Hawkins proposal, Sharpay's thoughts tumble from her lips as Peyton listens.

"College is so stressful, you know? Everyone else is so much better than me, and I'm not used to that," she says matter-of-factly. "I'm working myself to the bone, but I don't feel I'm totally keeping up as well as I should. I have panic attacks all the time, and my anxiety medicine doesn't seem to work. Even being able to carry Boi around to each class doesn't bring my stress down all that much. My RA doesn't enforce any rules, so I'm barely getting any sleep and my roommate is horrible and she loathes dogs. Ryan and everyone else seem to be handling college. I'm sure Gabriella Montez is doing just fine. But I'm…" She swallows hard. "Not."

Before Peyton can respond, however, she quickly adds, "I've been thinking about this for a while. Don't worry, I'm not just throwing away my college career on a whim."

"I believe you." The corner of his mouth turns up. "You are nothing if not thorough."

"But do you think I'm being stupid and immature? About wanting to drop out?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't. What you feel is valid."

Sharpay releases the breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Thanks."

"Discuss this with your parents, obviously, but lots of people drop out of college. And there's plenty of successful people who didn't even go to college in the first place. You'll manage. You always do."

2011

Sharpay all but tackles Peyton in the JFK airport.

When she pulls back from the embrace, she is suddenly aware of how close they are and the feeling of his arms around her and how blue his eyes are. "Welcome to New York City," he says, and steps back. Sharpay finds she misses the lack of physical contact as his hands leave her waist – which is weird, because she's never thought much of it before. He helps her carry her hot pink luggage from the taxi to the penthouse her father is paying for, but the landlord refuses to let her keep Boi in the apartment.

Sharpay walks out and sleeps on Peyton's couch in his shoebox of an apartment until her audition.

She lets him film her doing mundane things for his assignment for NYU, gets her own apartment next door to his, and drinking in the sights of the city. A week later, she walks into the room for A Girl's Best Friend with Boi in her purse, her binder of sheet music in one hand, and a bright smile.

Boi gets the job. Sharpay doesn't.

2013

A twenty-three-year-old Sharpay arrives at the theatre the day after losing the Tony Award to Andrea Martin.

Most of her cast mates don't bring it up; the entire revival of Les Misérables hadn't won a single nomination at Radio City Music Hall. But the West End legend, Freddie Varley – the Jean Valjean to her Fantine – leans through her dressing room door as she does vocal exercises.

"You should have won."

"Andrea deserved it," Sharpay shoots back, and Freddie leaves without another word.

Performing in a role that the Tony's committee decided wasn't good enough isn't easy, but she pushes all thoughts of the night before out her mind. Sharpay Evans is nothing if not a professional, and she gives the audience what they came for. But when she runs offstage as the curtain comes down, she sees her boyfriend talking to the stage manager.

"Peyton?" she calls, but the other cast members are running back onstage and she has to find her place for the curtain call.

"What's your boyfriend doing here?" asks Freddie.

"No idea," she admits, watching Peyton across the crowded backstage of the Broadhurst Theatre.

She's so distracted she almost forgets to smile at her standing ovation. Sharpay joins the cast for a few more bows before the audience starts to quiet, and she's about to head to her dressing room when Freddie catches her wrist.

"Wait," he mouths, the entire cast grinning from ear to ear as the stage manager comes onstage to hand Freddie a handheld mic.

"Thank you all for coming," the English actor says to the audience, keeping his flawless American accent as not to confuse the crowd. "We have a surprise planned tonight for our Fantine, the talented Sharpay Evans. I'm sure she would like to share this moment with all of you, ladies and gentlemen."

She keeps her expression carefully blank, praying Freddie isn't going to hand her a fake Tony and have her give her planned speech here at the Broadhurst. She tells herself that if he does dare, she will wait to slap him until they reach backstage.

"Well, it's not our surprise, per se. Will Sharpay's boyfriend come onstage?"

Peyton's holding something in his right hand as he exits the wings, taking the microphone from Freddie in his left. Her co-star nudges a confused Sharpay forward downstage as her boyfriend stops in front of her.

"Sharpay Tiffany Evans," Peyton says, going down on one knee, and she can't breathe. "I've known you since… well, forever. We've been officially dating for two years, but I've loved you ever since I can remember."

He holds out a small black jewelry box, opening it to reveal a diamond ring, and she wonders if she will faint. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," she chokes out, throat closing up, and her cast mates and the audience applaud. There is buzz under her skin as Peyton slides the ring on her left hand; when he stands, Sharpay's cheeks are wet as she captures his mouth in a kiss.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It was announced at the end of the third HSM film that Sharpay would be attending the University of Albuquerque (which in reality closed in 1986) and assisting Ms. Darbus in East High's drama department. But in SFA neither of those things seem to have taken place. Maybe the fourth HSM movie will explain what happened; but in the meantime, I did my best with dealing with the continuity issues.

I really wanted to explore why Sharpay is the way she is. But one thing that made more sense what to change Darby and Vance Evans into emotionally distant parents. What if the reason Sharpay and Ryan went into the theatre was for attention from their parents? What if they tried to use performing in musicals to draw their mother and father home from constantly travelling (which could technically be considered in canon)? What if Sharpay was so starved of any attention from her parents that her tendency to force people to notice her bled into every other aspect of her life?

And what if, like we see in SFA, she grew out of that when she went to New York?