He could not speak. Talking had never been much of a problem for him before. He liked to talk. He had been told he tended to talk too much, and at the worst times. Now though, he found he could not form the right words.

Those eyes. Those lovely, deep eyes. He could not say he recognized them. Her eyes and her mouth where the only part of her face not concealed by the white mask. Her identity was a complete mystery. But he could tell she was beautiful. She had too be. How could she be anything else with those eyes?

She stood before him, a smile slowly coming to her lips. He saw wonder and curiosity in her eyes. She must be wondering who he was, just as he was wondering about her.

The music changed. Slow and romantic, it was the type of song that usually had him running away in horror, but at the moment he felt there could not be another song that would best fit such a moment. The moment that he life changed forever.

He lifted his hand toward her. Without hesitation, she placed hers into it. They seemed to drift together, his arm going around her waist, her other hand gently touching his shoulder.

They moved, not caring how they looked, or that anyone at all was watching them.

He had been forced to take waltz lessons 3 years ago for a cousins wedding. He had endured them long enough to get through the reception, and never mentioned them to anyone. He thanked the lord for them now, as her led her across the floor. It felt only right that Cinderella and her Prince should dance like this. Swaying, spinning, the room nothing but a blur of color as they moved around the floor. He saw only her. Her eyes, her smile. Nothing else really mattered.

The song could have lasted forever. Unfortunately it ended all too soon, replaced by a pounding, rocking beat that did not fit the mood. He leaned toward her ear and said in a whisper, "Would you like to take a walk outside?"

She looked up into his eyes, and nodded. Still holding on to her hand, he led her through the throng of students toward the nearest exit. He saw several of his friends looking his way. They must have seen through his disguise, for they waved, trying to get his attention. He ignored them.

The cool night air was a pleasant contrast to the stuffiness of the cafeteria, caused by too many bodies in one room. He took a deep breath. He heard her do the same.

"Look at the stars."

It was the first time he had heard her speak. She sounded familiar, but he just could not place the voice. It was a wonder he could hear her at all with the way his heart was pounding in his ears.

He tipped his head back to see the sky. The night was clear, the moon was full and bright. A harvest moon he believed it was called. It was so large it nearly took up the whole of the sky.

"What about them?" he asked.

"I don't know. They look different somehow. It's like I'm seeing them for the first time, even though I see them almost every night. Oh, god, that sounds so stupid."

He laughed. "No, it doesn't. You're right. They seem...brighter somehow."

They walked toward the fountain in the front of the school. It was all so terribly romantic. If this had been a scene in a movie, he would have laughed at the absurdity of it

"Who are you?" he asked, unable to keep from asking. The curiosity was nearly killing him.

"Uh-uh." She shook her head, her golden curls swaying across her back. "Not yet. Not until the masks can come off."

"Do you usually follow the rules like that?"

Her laugh was music. Not a girlish, simpering little twitter that some girls used while trying to flirt. Her laugh sound open, real, happy. "Me? Not really. Hardly ever."

"So why tonight?"

They sat along the stone edge of the fountain, fingers still entwined. It was like they where made to fit together, her hand and his. Her finger nails where nicely manicured. One of those french ones, he thought. A shiny ring adorned the ring finger of her right hand. He thought it might be a real diamond, but he was not the greatest judge of jewelry. The only jewelry had was his class ring, and even that he thought was too large and chunky to wear.

"Tonight is different." She said.

"Yes. I guess it is."

He reached up to cup her mask covered cheek with his free hand, and pulled her face toward his. Their lips touched lightly. Just a touch, a taste, a curious test to see how her lips would feel against his. Just like her hand, her lips seemed to fit against his own. So he deepened the touch. His lips pulled against hers, drawing them in deeper and deeper, not daring to try to open them just yet. He did not want to go too far, did not want to scare her off.

He so feared that once his mask was off she would run away, so he wanted this moment to last as long as it could.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from her. Those eyes where shining at him, and she was smiling.

"I liked that." She said. "I wouldn't mind if you do it again."

"I will." He promised. He'd kiss her forever if he could. "If I guess who you are, would you tell me?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. But if I have to answer your questions, then you have to answer mine."

"Deal. Alright, what year are you in?"

"Senior."

Same as him. That narrowed down the field a little bit. He tried to think of all senior class girls who had blond hair and brown eyes. There where quite a few, although he could not think of any whose hair was such a bright, golden color. Too many of them where blonds from a bottle, and the color tended to look a little brassy. Her hair was so soft looking. Might it be a wig?

No, it was too real. Not that it really mattered. Her hair could be blond, brown, red, or even green. He wouldn't care as long as she had those eyes. Brown eyes, though where just as common as blond hair. More then half the girls in senior class had brown eyes.

"What about you?" She asked.

"Same. Do you play any sports?"

"God no. I'm completely inept at sports. Do you?"

"I'm on the basketball team."

"Well, I know you're not Troy Bolton."

"Hey, despite what everyone in this school thinks, Troy is not the only guy on the basketball team."

"I know, he's just the one that commands the most attention."

"Does he command yours?" he asked a little uncertainly. Others girls had gone out with him just for the chance at getting close to Troy. He didn't hold it against him. Troy was a good friend, and he didn't go looking for the attention, he just drew it in, like he was a flame and everyone around him where moths. But it hurt him that girls where not interested in him for himself.

"Honestly? He did."

Again, not information that was all that useful. He didn't have enough fingers to count all the girls in East High that would like to land Troy Bolton. He was happy that it appeared Troy was now permanently off the market.

"But," She continued, "I've recently come to the conclusion that Troy is not who I want."

Well, if that didn't make his hear rate soar through the roof. Of it would, if they weren't outside.

"So, if you don't play sports, what do you like to do?"

"I like to sing, and dance. I've never told anyone this before, but I like to draw too. I've never even shown anyone my pictures."

"Why?"

"Because, I guess it's not who I am. Or who I'm supposed to be. Or who everyone thinks I am."

"And here I thought this school was over all that 'status quo' stuff."

"Are you kidding? We'll never be over it till we're out of here. It's sad, isn't it? I never used to think so. I thought I should always be exactly what other people think I should be. But, this last summer...well, some things happened that got me thinking about it. The way I acted, stuff I did...it didn't make people like me very much. And I hurt some people. So, they hurt me back. I found I didn't like the feeling." She shook her head in wonder. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this. I don't even really know you, and yet..."

"Yet you feel like you've known me forever." He finished. "Yeah, I know. I feel the same way."

"So, any guesses as to who I am?"

He laughed, and stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. "Nope. Guess I'll just have to be surprised."

"I hope it's a good surprise. I hope...I hope you aren't disappointed."

"If anyone is going to be disappointed, I'm afraid its going to be you. This is just a costume, you know. I'm not really Prince Charming. I'm just...me."

"And I'm not really Cinderella. I'm as far from Cinderella as you can get."

"You could be an evil step-sister. It would be alright. I'd do my best to love the wickedness out of you."

HSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSMHSM

"I'd do my best to love the wickedness out of you."

Those words seemed to cut through to her heart. What would he think if he knew who she really was? How would he feel after he sees her face, knows who she is knows, knows all the truly awful things she had done?

She didn't want to loose this feeling. Like she belonged somewhere, belonged to someone. It was strange that the feeling should happen with a boy whose face she could not see.

She studied him as they walked back toward the school. Brown hair that was a little unruly. It hung over his mask and into his eyes. She wanted to brush it away, but only for the excuse to touch it, to run her hand through those dark strands that looked like silk. And his eyes...oh, those beautiful hazel eyes. How could any girl look into them and not get lost.?

Blue eyes had always been her favorite. Blue eyes like Troy's. But she had never found herself drowning in Troy's eyes the way she found herself in this boy's. They seemed to turn green after he had kissed her.

That kiss! She had never been kissed like that before. It was like he didn't want to scare her. She had wanted to grab him and completely ravish his mouth, but was afraid he would think she was too fast.

She knew that was one of the rumors that went around about her. She was fast, she was easy. The way she dressed and acted didn't do much to stop the rumors, even though she had only been out with 3 boys in all 4 years she had been at East High. She had found that past summer that her style of flirting was a little too much for some guys. What she had thought would attract only drove them away. When she knew she had lost her last chance with Troy, she thought her heart might break.

Troy was the farthest thing from her mind right now. The only thing that concerned her was the boy next to her.

So who was he?

Brown hair was way too common, although she could honestly say she had never seen those eyes before. And there where several guys with brown hair on the basketball team, including those who never left the bench during a game. He could be any of them, and she would never be able to guess, for she had never paid any of them much attention before. She had always believed that they where beneath her.

But he could be the water boy for all she cared right then. She liked the way his hand felt in hers. She liked the way his lips felt on hers. She liked the way her heart seemed to beat a thousand times per second.

If he wanted to love the wickedness out of her, she's let him.

She heard the sound of Mrs. Darbus talking over the loudspeaker as they came back into the cafeteria. They where about to announce the winners of the costume contest, the boy and girl who would be crowned King and Queen of the dance, after which everyone would remove their masks.

In the past she would hope and pray she would win the crown, and would throw a holy fit if her name was not announced. But not tonight. It wouldn't matter if she won, or not. She had already received a much better prize then a fake, plastic tiara.

"Everyone, quiet down." Mrs. Darbus was saying. "We have been watching everyone tonight, and we have our contest winners. Please welcome your King and Queen of the Masquerade Ball...Prince Charming and his Cinderella!"

She gasped, and his hand clutched her tighter. "That's us." He sounded shocked. Had he never been singled out in a such a way before?

"Yes. It is. We have to go up there."

"We do? In front of everyone?"

"That's the plan." She tugged on his hand and led him toward the temporary stage. It was her second time as Queen of a dance, having one the crown at her Junior High Homecoming. She wondered if this crown would mean she could not run for Homecoming or Prom this year.

The walked up to the stage to the applause of the student body. She let the principle place the tiara on her head. Mrs. Darbus crowned her Prince with a plastic gold crown. His hand never left hers.

"And now," continued Mrs. Darbus, "We ask that our King and Queen remove their masks."

She held her breath as she turned her face toward his, and let go of his hand to bring both of hers to touch her mask. It seemed he moved in slow motion as his fingers grasped the edge of his own mask, lifting it ever so slowly up.

She saw his eyes close, and hers flowed suit. When her mask was free from her face, she heard nothing but silence. There was not clapping, or cheering. It was silence that seemed...shocked.

She opened her eyes...and saw him. He was looking at her.

"Sharpay?"

He sounded...almost hurt, and she thought she might cry. Now that she knew who he was, she found she didn't care. It didn't matter. He was still...HIM. But it seemed he did care. She saw it all in those hazel eyes.

She felt the tears begin to fall down her cheeks as her heart shattered.

"Jason."