AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. It means a lot to me. Umm, I just wanted to address one tiny detail, some have commented on the young man who was with Gabriella in the very first part of Chapter One, if you actually look closely -hintfirstparagraphhint- you'll be able to know the true identity of said young man. And to clarify, this is a Troyella fic. So no worries about Ryella - its only friendship between the two. And, finals are coming up so the next update might come in a week or two. I already started writing the the third chapter so hopefully, the next update will not take too long. Anyways, on with the story...

Disclaimer: As usual, I don't own anything.

The Good Fight

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

"Sharpay?" both Ryan and I ask at the same time but with varying tones; his surprised while mine was incredulous.

For a few minutes, no one said anything. Sharpay looks at us with obvious disgust, Ryan looks back at Sharpay in disbelief while I stand there, frozen and immobile, trying to digest the fact that Sharpay Evans, whom I haven't seen in almost six years, is actually standing in my kitchen.

Finally, Ryan asks, "What are you doing here?"

Putting some distance between me and Ryan, I lean back against the counter, wipe away some of my tears and start to massage my temple. Just standing there, watching Ryan and Sharpay glare at each other, I feel the beginnings of a headache slowly forming. Tired from all the chaos of Tyler's birthday festivities and now Sharpay's unexpected visit, I did not have enough energy to deal with anymore drama today.

"Remember, my or should I say our birthday this weekend? I wanted to surprise you considering you always fly to Albuquerque every year. And now I know why. You wanted to hide your precious little affair with Miss Montez here."

"Don't you dare talk to her like that! And how did you get here?" Ryan angrily replies.

"How else? The taxi of course…. Oh, don't look at me like that. Don't tell me you've lost all your sense of humor while living in New York?" Sharpay says with a smirk, "It wasn't that hard. I went to your apartment, found out you weren't there and asked your bell man. Kind old man that bell man was. He was nice enough to tell me that you left to visit a 'certain Gabriella like he always does' and he even gave me the address. I was curious of course, seeing as I saw her number on your phone the last time and ta da, here I am."

Sharpay, now looking disinterested with her conversation with Ryan, looks at me. And boy, the memories of high school start flooding back. The same intimidating glare. The same proud stance that just screams 'I am better than you'. The same annoying smirk. After all these years, despite being friends with her, I feel like I was transported back in high school with some jock mocking me because I was the freaky math girl.

"So, how long has this been going on?" Pointing between Ryan and I, she asks.

"Nothing is going on between us Shar." Ryan answers.

"Oh, right, because that cozy little scene that I just stumbled upon didn't happen," Looking at me, she raises an eyebrow and says, "And what are you, mute or something? Can't speak for yourself now?"

I hear Ryan exclaim, "Sharpay".

She looks at Ryan innocently and tilts her head slightly, "What?"

Once again, both of them started glaring at each other. Oh, good times. Note sarcasm here. Every time the Evans siblings get into these glaring contests, it takes awhile before anything is resolved. Both Sharpay and Ryan can glare with the best of em'. Deciding to cut this short, I ask, "Why are you here Sharpay?"

She looks at me haughtily and responds, "I already told you, I came here for Ryan. Finally seeing you was just an added bonus. So this is where you've cooped up for the last few years," she looks around the loft, "Cozy. A little tiny and homey for my taste but then again, we've always had different taste, Gabriella."

"We're leaving Gabs. I'll see you later." He gives me a hug and takes a hold of Sharpay's arm, "Let's go."

"Would you stop manhandling me? I can walk by myself and I'm not leaving. She -" Sharpay points her perfectly manicured finger at me, "has a lot of explaining to do."

"Sharpay, I'm serious. We are leaving, now."

"No. And don't talk to me like I'm three, Ryan. We can leave now but you know I'll just come back. I know her address and phone number now. It is not like she can just pack up and leave again like she did six years ago."

My head is throbbing. Exhausted from the whole day's event, I can barely stand up. And Sharpay's jabs aren't helping my headache one bit. Giving Ryan a helpless glance, I direct Sharpay towards the living room. She immediately makes herself comfortable in my sofa while I take a seat at one of the love seats.

"Do you want anything to drink Sharpay?" I ask her politely, holding at least some decorum in this now tense environment.

"I'm not here to chit chat Gabriella. In fact, I don't even care about you right now. All I want to know is one thing. Just one. Why?"

To say that her words hurt are an understatement. I know my abrupt departure from Albuquerque is going to hurt several people. I knew the consequences of my actions but to actually experience the anger and hatred face to face is a little hard to take. Especially since I never expected this. But I should have known this was coming. Sooner or later, someone was bound to discover that I still had contact with one of them.

Taking a glance at Tyler's room, I detect no movement whatsoever. Might as well finish this confrontation with Sharpay now before my baby wakes up.

"You left with no note. Nothing… oh wait, how stupid of me. You did leave a note. 'I'm sorry. Gabriella'. You couldn't even tell us personally that you were leaving. We come to your house only to see boxes everywhere. No sign of you or your mother. Just a bunch of movers who looked at us like we were stupid idiots when they told us that you already left. Two years, Gabriella, we've known each other for two years, I at least deserved an explanation, a goodbye and a hug even. Not a three word note. I – we deserved more than that."

By the time she ended her rant, she was up and about, pacing back and front in my living room and waving her arms around angrily.

Looking at the fireplace mantle that held so much of Tyler's pictures, I utter, "I was pregnant," I looked at Sharpay and confidently repeat, "I was pregnant."

She stumbles back, as if the impact of my words literally pushed her back. For the first few minutes, no one says anything. Ryan, standing behind the sofa, is looking uncomfortable. Sharpay, still shocked, just sits there. And I, well, I am still nursing that headache of mine. Just as I was about to head to the bathroom to get some aspirin, Sharpay jumps up and looks at Ryan, "You, you got her pregnant?"

"What!" Both Ryan and I exclaim "No." I guess I understand where she got that idea from but to think that she thought I cheated on Troy back then is ridiculous - and it stings like hell.

Sharpay stands up again and this time, I see her take a second good look at my loft. I see her observe her surroundings a little more closely and a particular picture frame must have caught her attention. Walking to it, she picks up a picture of Tyler – three years old at the time – wearing a basketball jersey that was two sizes too big for his tiny frame and holding onto a basketball stuffed toy.

Still holding on the picture frame, she looks back at me and whisper, "Troy. You were pregnant with Troy's baby and you left. You were pregnant and you left. You were pregnant." I see she was still in shock over that particular revelation.

"Why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell Troy?"

"I had my reasons Sharpay."

"What kind of reasons? You and Troy were perfect for each other. He wouldn't have left you because you were pregnant. He would have stayed."

"You don't know the whole story Sharpay."

"Why don't you enlighten me then."

I am so not ready to think about the past again. It is bad enough that Sharpay is here and confronting me but to actually revisit that particular event is something I don't think I'll ever be ready to tell.

Ryan must have sensed my inner struggle because before I knew it, he was able to herald Sharpay out of the door – she was protesting and struggling of course – and with a repentant "I'm really sorry, Gabs" from Ryan and a loud "I'll be back" from Sharpay, the Evans twins were gone.

Lying down on the couch, I close my eyes and hoped that when I wake up, the last thirty minutes was just a figment of my very cruel imagination.

Slipping into the stage between waking and sleeping, I awoke up from my slumber only to find my baby sitting on top of me, patting my cheeks ever so gently. Whenever Tyler wakes up before me, he has this habit of patting my cheeks with his little chubby fingers until I finally wake up. Any other rambunctious toddler would just scream and jump on top of their parents but not my Tyler.

Tyler Alexander Montez is born on March 17, 2008. He is the perfect mixture of Troy and I with his lucent blue eyes that is in great contrast with his black mop of a hair. He's very outgoing but reserved at times. And I'm happy to say that he takes after his mother in the intelligence department. Smart and cute, my boy is going to break hearts someday.

"Mama," pat, "Mama," another pat.

I keep my eyes closed while trying to keep myself from breaking out into a smile.

"Mama, no lie. Wakey, wakey." He pokes my cheeks this time and slowly catches on to my ploy. He starts bouncing and singing "Mama, mama" over and over again.

I slowly take a peek and my brilliant baby boy catches that tiny movement.

"Mama, Ty knows your up. I see the eyes." By this time, I fully open my eyes and starts laughing.

"No fair", he pouts and folds his arms over his chest – trying to imitate a serious Ryan – and failing miserably.

"Awww, did I hurt my poor baby? What can I do to make it better huh? Chocolate chip pancake or maybe some strawberry waffles? What do you say, you forgive mommy?"

Tyler grins his cheesy but very adorable little smile and furiously nods his head. "Tyler hungry," he exclaims.

"Well, down you go, buster. Mommy needs to go the kitchen."

He runs ahead of me, heading to the kitchen, giggling all the way.

"Tyler, be careful. You don't want to slip and fall do you?" I call out.

"Na uh Mama." I hear his footsteps slow down and several chairs move in the kitchen.

As Tyler and I begin to work on breakfast, I almost forget about the incident yesterday until I manage to catch a glimpse of Ryan's gift to Tyler lying on the kichen island countertop. Memories of yesterday start coming back and I wince. I guess its time to face the music. Six years is a long time to keep all this to myself and knowing Sharpay, she would have already told the rest of the gang about Tyler. I was so not looking forward to that encounter with Troy. Was I even ready? Was he even ready?

I was jolted out of my reverie when Tyler starts violently mixing the pancake mix. Before I can even manage to prevent any mishaps, the bowl he was holding onto flips over, and my son is now covered with powdered pancake mix all over.

I laugh out loud while Tyler just stands atop one of the chairs glaring at me. He is about to say something but upon opening his mouth, white powder blows all over and I double in laughter once again.

I guess I can just deal with Troy and Sharpay when they come. Right now, a little boy is glowering at me and it is high time for breakfast to be served in this household.

Comments? Reviews are always lovely.