Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical

Silent Echoes

"Hey guys, you've called Ryan. I'm doing something more interesting right now so leave a message and I'll ring you later. Peace."

"Hey Ryan! It's been a week and we still haven't talked. You're probably busy with classes and getting to know the city and people and stuff. I just wanted to catch up… See what's going on… Give me a call! Bye!" Sharpay sighed as she hung up the phone and sat back in her chair at the kitchen table, her face immediately falling out of its forced cheeriness. She found that she was unable to fake sounding cheerful without fake appearing cheerful., despite Ryan being unable to see her face.

'It's understandable that Ryan would be too busy and distracted to answer his phone,' she told herself for what seemed to be the hundredth time, believing it less and less every time. Frustrated with Ryan for not answering his phone and angry at herself for needing that connection, Sharpay groaned loudly to release some of her pent up emotion and flopped her head into her crossed arms on top of the table, bumping her nose in the process.

"Ow," she whimpered sadly into the distressed wood of the table, scrunching her nose in pain.

"Morning pumpkin. Were you just on the phone with Ryan? How's he doing?" Mrs. Evans asked as she breezed through the kitchen, her red cashmere robe flying out behind her swiftly moving feet.

"How would I know?" Sharpay grumbled, her head still buried in her arms. "He doesn't answer my calls any more."

Mrs. Evans grabbed two extra-large coffee cups from the tall cupboard and poured some coffee into each. ":I'm sorry, honey. I'm sure it's nothing. His life is just very hectic at the moment. I don't think you should waste one second worrying about it." She replied, trying to sound consoling despite her own uncertainties as she placed one of the mugs on the table next to Sharpay's head.

Raising her head and feigning cheerfulness, just as she did for Ryan's message, and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right."' Unfortunately she could only make the cheer last for that statement as her face fell once more. With a sigh, she grabbed her steaming mug of coffee. "Did I make him mad? I think it might be possible."

Mrs. Evans snorted into her coffee eliciting a very direct glare from her daughter. Pretending to need more creamer, Mrs. Evans quickly turned away from Sharpays fiery eyes and hid behind the refrigerator door.

"Well, whatever it is, he's being a baby about it!" Sharpay finally declared, stomping to her feet with her usual determination and darting out of the room, pleased with her remarkable ability to push her own blame and guilt onto another.

"He sure is," Mrs. Evans mumbled, purely out of habit as she grabbed the newspaper and took a seat at the kitchen table, happy to be left in silence.

"Come on, Bolton! Get your ass moving. Five more laps around the court! Lets go! GO!"

Troy growled and tried to push his feet to move faster, though he was sure the only thing that had sped up was his heart rate which was already dangerously high.

"Jesus, boy, what is your problem? Do you even want to be on this team?" The coach screamed at him from his position in the center of the court, his eyes watching Troy's every step as he struggled to keep moving. The rest of the team had already finished their laps and were throwing free throws. They were all waiting for Troy to catch up; all grumbling about Troy's inadequacy.

"Bolton, I swear to God, if you don't get moving I'm going to make the entire team join you until you're done!"

That really got the grumblings going, as the team glared in his direction. Troy pushed himself to run faster, unable to breathe, sweat dripping into his eyes. Excruciating pain shot from his feet through his legs to every muscle in his body, all simultaneously begging – screaming – for him to stop. And now he got to hear muted threats from his teammates as he passed each and every one of them.

Counting his remaining laps on his fingers and chanting, "left, right, left, right…" in his head, Troy somehow managed to finish his run and was finally allowed to stop. Unable to get enough air into his lungs, Troy doubled over with shaking legs and fought to take in oxygen. Finally able to slow his panting enough to fill his lungs, Troy gulped down a huge breath of air, instantly going dizzy as his vision clouded. Shit, there's a new one.

Closing his eyes to let the feeling pass, Troy almost couldn't respond to his coaches perpetually angry bark. "BOLTON!"

"Yes, coach," Troy gasped out, putting all his weight back onto his wobbly legs and straightening his stance.

"Grab a ball and join your team. Practice isn't over!"

"Right, coach."

Dropping his head and ignoring his body's protests, Troy jogged over to the basketball caddy and grabbed the last remaining ball. All the while a continuous prayer floated back and forth through his brain: 'Please, let me survive this practice.'

"Well, well, well. Good afternoon, Sharpay," Tiara sneered, placing an extra emphasis on the last syllable of Sharpay's name.

"Tiara," Sharpay replied absent-mindedly, not even bothering to look in her direction. It was passing time when Sharpay had arrived at the school to drop off her hopeful attempt at a musical script. More nervous than any time she had been on stage, Sharpay's blood pumped hotly through her veins and her heart raced wildly as all external noise was muffled by the loud buzzing in her ears.

"What's that you've got there?" Tiara asked, refusing to be ignored despite the trouble she was having keeping up behind Sharpay's years of experience stomping around East High on three inch heals.

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing," Sharpay mumbled with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Right," Tiara drawled disbelieving but still curious. Slowing her pace and breathing heavily from the overexertion of shuffling at Sharpay's pace, Tiara was sure to keep a steady eye focused on Sharpay's back. She was going to figure out what Sharpay was up to and she was going to find a way to make it all about her.

Hardly even noticing that Tiara was no longer with her, Sharpay smiled to herself as she turned the corner and took the last few steps toward Ms. Darbus's classroom. Stopping just outside the door, Sharpay looked down at her first act with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Talk about turning over a new leaf. In High School Sharpay never would have considered becoming a composer, but just look at her now.

Taking a deep breath, Sharpay finally opened the door she'd been standing in front of and stuck her head inside the darkened classroom. "Ms. D?" she asked to the empty space before her. Must be her off period. With a shrug, Sharpay straightened her shoulders and confidently stepped full into the room, her heals clicking in time to her steps as always. Stepping over to Ms. Darbus's cluttered desk, Sharpay laid her crisp, freshly printed copy of her musical on top of all the other papers that were thrown carelessly about and gazed at it's professional appearance. She'd even made a cover page.

As she gazed at her rough draft, Sharpay got lost in thought imagining her musical being performed on Broadway. She, of course, would play the lead, Ryan would have the part of the brother, and she couldn't help but to picture Troy as the romantic interest. Huh, seems she's not quite over that one just yet.

Scowling at this realization and reminding herself once more that she's in college now making a whole new beginning, Sharpay turned on her heal and stomped out of the room in a haze of mental distraction. In fact, she was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she didn't even notice the sequined skirt that fluttered behind a door as she stepped back into the hallway.

"Bolton!"

Troy heard his name waft slowly into his ears and to his brain as if it were being carried on the with from the top of a mountain, miles and miles away.

"Bolton!"

His name echoed in his head, sliding back and forth, up and down, repeating itself every time it hit his skull and changed directions, like the window's symbol on his computers screen saver.

"Bolton!"

He tried to respond, he knew that's what the voice wanted of him, but he couldn't seem to make his voice own sound. His neck muscles clenched as though they could make him answer by force but, still, nothing came out.

Finally, Troy jerked awake from the thunk of the whiteboard marker hitting his head, his neck muscles were painfully tensed, sending shooting pains down his spine.

"Bolton!" Troy's professor barked from the front of the classroom, his white beard remarkably pronounced in contrast to his bright red face.

"Yes, sir?" Troy replied, his voice slightly hoarse. He tried to ignore the subdued giggling and scoffing looks from all his classmates but the flush rising in his cheeks gave him away.

"Bolton, my time is not for your rest. If you can't stay awake in my class then I suggest you find a more suitable time to take it. But, for now, I do not tolerate this type of behavior from my students and I am going to have to ask you to leave."

Troy stared at his professor, eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry, you want me to-"

"-Leave. Yes Mr. Bolton. And I'd like to see you during my office hours later today."

"Oh," Troy was stunned. Wasn't this a little harsh? "Um, Ok." He quickly gathered up his belongings, avoiding the wide-eyed stares from the other students and the angry glare from his professor as he awkwardly shuffled out of his row and hurriedly left the oppressively silent room.

Collapsing into an empty bench just outside his classroom door, Troy rubbed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath of air. How could he have gotten into trouble already? Why had he let himself fall asleep? That was just stupid. Scrunching his eyes up tight, Troy took one more moment to chastise himself before opening his tired, red-rimmed eyes, blinking away the tears that had inexplicably formed.

Sharpay sighed, lost in thought as she picked at her uneaten peanut butter sandwich. She was sitting at a picnic table under a beautiful tree, the wind was blowing and the sound of happy chatter and laughter could be heard from the tables around her. But Sharpay wasn't enjoying any of it. Instead, she was eating lunch all by herself, not at all how she'd imagined her college life would be.

"Excuse me, are you Sharpay?"

Startled, Sharpay looked up distractedly for the source of the voice that had spoken so close to her. "What?" she asked, unconvinced that the gorgeous boy standing before her was even speaking to her.

"You're Sharpay, right?" he repeated unabashedly. His bright blue eyes boring deep into Sharpays. "We have Intro to Theatre together."

"Oh! Right!" Sharpay gave the boy a quick smile before looking down again and starting to pack up her belongings.

"Can I join you?"

Sharpay froze, her hand in midair, about to grab her pen which was blowing across the table from the force of the wind.

"Join me?" Sharpay was surprised by the dramatic increase in her heart rate, suddenly more alert to the blood pumping through her body, pounding in her ears and rising to her cheeks. Sharpay turned to the boy and considered him for a moment, the smile on her face more genuine than before.

But her smile immediately melted away when an unexpected image of Troy forced its way into her minds eye and an unusual sense of guilt smothered the butterflies beginning to form in her stomach.

"Actually, I was just leaving," she said coldly. Grabbing her pen from where it had rolled to the other side of the table and picking up her book-bag, Sharpay stood and walked away without another glance in the boy's direction.

Not accustomed to being rejected, the boy continued to stand by the table as he watched Sharpay scamper away, a boiling sense of determination building inside of him.

"I wouldn't worry about it, dude," a curly haired boy said from behind him. "She's like that."

Smiling, the boy turned to face his new teammate. "Oh, I'm not worried, Chad. I can break her."

Sharpay walked across the lush green lawn as quickly as she could in her sinking heals and ducked into the nearest building. The hallway was empty, the voices of all the lecturing professors echoing throughout their rooms and mixing together in the hall.

Sharpay's heals clacked swiftly against the beige tiles and reverberated off the walls, resounding in her ears. Her steps came faster as she found her destination, located at the end of the long hallway next to the wide staircase that led to the upper floors. She burst through the closed bathroom door and ran into the nearest stall, slamming the door shut. Finally, she felt safe, like nothing bad could get to her.

What had just happened to her? That wasn't Sharpay back there. Sharpay would have smiled at the boy and giggled and batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as she gave coy answers to every one of his not so probing questions. But she did none of that.

Collapsing onto the toilet seat and dropping her head into her hands, Sharpay sighed dejectedly as she tried to identify this clouded emotion that seemed to have taken over her mind. It's something she'd never before encountered and she was surprised by just how much harder normal life seemed to be with it. All day she found herself walking with her shoulders drooped and her head hung low, her eyes unwilling to rise off the floor. Every facial expression drained her emotionally and her whole body seemed to ache from the physical effort of living.

Taking in a deep breath and blinking away the tears that had unexpectedly sprung to her eyes, Sharpay sat up straight, pushed her shoulders back and resolved to survive this day. And she was going to do it with a smile, no matter how faint it appeared.

Troy looked around the dining hall at all the happy chattering students. They all seemed so carefree and generally pleased to be there. The sight of it caused something to tighten uncomfortably in his stomach leaving him with a sour sense of isolation. Looking down at his plate, Troy scowled at his food: an oily hamburger topped with melting, oozing swiss cheese and greasy, soggy fries swimming in watery, slightly discolored ketchup. Just as easily as his hunger had come, it quickly went away, instead turning his stomach over and causing Troy to search out the bathrooms. Just in case. Taking a sip of his ice water, Troy concentrated hard on settling his stomach before taking his entire tray to the industrial sized garbage can and dumping every untouched morsel.

His stomach churned again as a girl with a steaming bowl of chili walked by. With nothing else to do and an intense desire to escape all this nauseating dorm food, Troy quickly ducked out of the dining hall and onto the sunny promenade. Seeking out his favorite tree and settling himself beneath its branches, Troy leaned back and immediately felt more relaxed. He finally felt at ease for the first time that day. This was his safe spot, where nothing bad could get to him.

Closing his eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of grass and dirt, Troy pictured Gabriella and wondered what she was doing. Probably studying, wearing those stylish new glasses she had bought over the summer hoping they'd make her look more collegiate. Troy could picture her in the library with stacks of large, yellowing, dust covered books all surrounding her, her nose buried in one of them as she feverishly took notes. Troy smiled, oddly comforted by the familiar image he'd conjured and hoping it was close.

"Gabby, wake up! Wake up!"

Gabriella groaned in annoyance at the hand that was shaking her and rolled over. "Why? What time is it?"

"It's nearly five."

"In the morning?! Why are you waking me so early?"

"No, Gabby, it's five in the evening. Don't you have a night class to get to?"

Gabriella laughed, though immediately regretted it as the noise brought her attention to her growing headache. With another moan, she rolled back over and sat up. Suddenly dizzy, she paused to allow her head to clear before even attempting to stand. Unfortunately, her head never cleared as her stomach rolled over and threatened bringing all of its contents up with it. Clamping her hand over her mouth, Gabriella moaned for a third time as she sprinted from her bed to the toilet in the bathroom.

"At least it's getting good use, huh?" Gabriella's roommate said with a hint of irony in her voice as she poured out a glass of Vernors and waited for Gabriella to re-emerge.

Uh oh, I think Gabby was out late last night…

I feel really bad for Sharpay in this chapter, she has to deal with a lot of emotions that she doesn't understand. And as the pitching staff on my favorite troubled baseball team has taught me, it is much easier dealing with an evil you know than an evil you don't.

Anyway, there are a lot of underlying emotions in this chapter and I wanted it more focused on that aspect of the story. So, I'm sorry there isn't a whole lot of action. But it is setting up some of the action that is to come.

As always, please tell me your thoughts. I need to hear from you!