a/n: Hey guys! I wanna thank everyone again for reviewing, it means so much to me.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Don't eat too much turkey!
Oh, and from now on the dividers --- will be for a short change in setting, like hours later or just a different place. But --- will divide longer periods of time, like days. I don't know if it'll be used in any other chapters but it definitely will be in this.
song credit: Date Rape - Sublime ;)-
You sit there idly, flipping through a magazine, with headlines of which 'celeb' couple has broken up most recently. Because, of course, there's absolutely nothing else in the world to report on. You knew this day would come, you think, as you skim an article of hair how-to's. It was only a matter of time.
"Sharpay! Say something!"
"What do you want me to say, Ryan?"
"I don't know. You always have an opinion, just tell me what it is!"
You stare into his bloodshot and weary eyes, and your heart starts to break.
"Have you been eating?"
"When I'm hungry."
"I'm guessing that's not very much."
"Not really."
"Been sleeping?"
"What do you think?" he shakes his head. "This isn't what I meant by say something, you know."
You sigh, wondering what the hell you're supposed to say in a situation like this.
"Ryan, you know I just want what's best for you. If you're happy with her than that's great."
He looks relieved, and is surely about to thank you when you continue. "But you fucked up big, bro."
"Don't you think I realize that?" he shouts.
"I don't really think you do! She has a boyfriend, Ryan! You can't just go around kissing someone with a boyfriend!"
He looks sheepishly to the ground. "They were never official or exclusive."
"That's a lame excuse, and you know it. That girl has had a stamp on her ever since she walked into East High. Do you really think the rest of the school is gonna see it the way you do?"
"You know what? That's for the great advice, sis. I've really gotta go."
You watch him walk away, trying desperately to keep his back straight and his gaze level. Trying and failing.
As he reaches the door his head turns ever so slightly. "You've changed," slips quietly from his lips.
Or maybe you just never knew me to begin with.
---
She said let's go
He said no way
Come on, babe, it's your lucky day...
"Shar!" a voice says, halting you in your steps, hands raised mid-air as they were previously drumming against your thighs in tune to your iPod. Briefly, your tongue wanders to one of your back molars as you wonder if you've gotten a cavity from the sugar-sweet tone of her voice.
"Oh, hey Gabby." And there's cavity number two.
"What are you doing at school this early?"
"Oh, you know, just uh, finishing some homework."
"That's cool, do you need any help?"
Yeah, about as much as I need a bullet through my head. "No thanks, that's really sweet though. What are you doing here anyways?"
"I thought I'd work in the lab a little this morning. I've been a little, um, overwhelmed lately."
"I see. Yeah, there's nothing that calms me down better than mixing potentially dangerous chemicals," you joke.
You briefly think if things were different, if you didn't hate her with every fibre of your being, you might actually feel bad for her. It can't be easy, you think, to just be kissed by someone you thought only had platonic feelings for you. And then there's just the teensytiny problem of having a "boyfriend." But alas, things aren't different. She's still the Scenestealer and you're still the Ice Princess. As much as things may change, they always stay the same. On some level, at least.
She laughs, that high pitched, light giggle, but something that surprises you is that look in her eyes. She's nervous, she's confused, and she's wondering if you know her secret. "Well my offer still stands about the homework, if you ever need any help you can always come to me."
"Thanks, I'm probably gonna head off the the auditorium though. I'll see you later."
"Yeah," she says quietly. "See you."
You begin to walk away, as fast as your new pumps will allow, but you're not quick enough. She calls your name and you cringe. What is it she could possibly want now?
"You know, don't you?"
"Know what?" you ask innocently.
"Come on Sharpay, you're a great actress but I know Ryan must've told you."
"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."
She stares into your eyes a minute, brown on brown, and even though your eyes are the same color at the moment they couldn't be any different. Yours hold a cold, nonchalant look as they always do, whereas hers resemble your brothers; dejected, wary, and surprisingly enough, bloodshot. It seems Ryan isn't the only one who's been losing sleep.
"Alright, I'm sorry." she says, and the sad look on her faces increases tenfold. She's disappointed in you, you realize. You shouldn't feel bad, you've made a vow to hate her until she gives up everything she's taken. But as she slowly walks away, perfect posture broken into a slouch, you're confused as a bout of sympathy takes you over.
---
"Dear Lord, Sharpay. Could you make anymore noise?" you're asked snidely as you walk into the house, throwing the door open carelessly.
"Sorry, I didn't realize you'd be home."
"Regardless, I just payed thousands in renovations and I will not pay to have the wall repaired because you storm into the house like a barbarian."
"I'm sorry."
"Well, how was school today?"
You're momentarily taken off guard, your mother has never cared to ask about school before. "It was okay, I had a big exam in French but I think-"
"That is not what I meant. I was talking about the theatre. Did you secure your position in the upcoming musical as we talked about?"
Of course, the musical. How could you have been so naive? "I actually don't think they'll be auditioning for the musical. Gabriella's got a lot of Science Club stuff and Troy would never audition without her."
"Oh, that reminds me! The Boltons will be coming over for Easter."
"What? But they haven't come over in years!"
"That is precisely why I invited them. Your father and I have not had the chance to get together with them for quite sometime as he's been traveling so much lately. We do not want the Boltons to think we are rude, do we?"
"No ma'am."
"Since we are having company, do dress appropriately. I do not want to see you in those loud garments you insist on wearing to school. A sweater set and skirt should do nicely."
"Yes mother, I'll go pick out my outfit now."
"Very well, and I would like to see it before Thursday."
"Okay," and once again you dash away before she can further comment or criticize. It wasn't as harsh today, you think. But then you see Ryan in his room, attempting to study math on his own. No wonder.
---
You stare at your reflection as you slip a pearl necklace on. Your hair is done in an elegant bun using half of your hair, while the lower half was straightened until your ends threatened to fall off. Pearls also hang from your ears, as well as your right wrist. You wear a sweater set that is a mother-approved lilac and a deeper purple pencil skirt falling slightly below your knees. All in all, you look pretty ridiculous.
You look like your great-grandma Alice, and the silver heels your mother insisted you wear are making your feet scream. Why on Earth you have to wear 3-inch heels inside your own home is a mystery to you. It sickens you that your mother cares so much about image. It's all about the image, gotta perfect the fucking image, while everything around it dies, you think bitterly.
You've known Jack and Marie Bolton your whole life, they've seen you at your worst. Hell, they've seen you naked. So why even bother trying to impress them? Friends shouldn't have to impress friends. But then again, something your mother seemed to have passed on to you was her inability to keep true friends, or act like one herself for that matter.
"Sharpay, darling, the Boltons are here!" Speak of the devil.
You look yourself over one last time, making sure there's absolutely nothing your mother can remark upon, before you're out the door.
"Oh my! Sharpay, hun, you've gotten so big!" comes the warm tone of Troy's mother as you walk down the stairs.
"Yes, dear. Teenagers have been known to get taller," Jack teases his wife. You know it's no shock to him how you've grown, you see him almost every day at school.
"Shush you!" she says back with a smile on her face. "Come over here Sharpay and give me a hug! I can't believe it's been so long!"
"Too long," you say as you wrap your arms around her, the woman who was more like a mother to you in your younger days.
"Hello, Mr. Bolton." you greet next, sticking out your hand for him to shake when he cracks an amused grin at you.
"Come on Ms. Evans, I thought we were past those formalities a long time ago."
You smile, it was surely something about those Boltons that made their smiles were so contagious. You give the man a hug as you reply, "Sorry, Jack."
"That's more like it."
"And what about me?" a voice asks from your right.
There's Troy Bolton, in all his glory. Blue eyes twinkling, hair wind swept, and hands stuck in the pockets of his flattering light blue sweater. At least he looks comfortable. Actually, the whole of the Bolton family have an air of comfort about them, only heightened by the way their outfits seem so thoughtlessly, yet carefully put together. You're not quite sure if that thought made sense, but you do know your family sticks out like a sore thumb with their head-to-toe designer clothing.
"Hey Troy."
"No hug for your best friend?"
"Best friend?" you ask, quirking an eyebrow.
He brings his head a little closer to yours, eyes darting left to right as if to make sure the coast is clear, and he stage whispers "Your secret best friend. Shh! Don't tell."
You roll your eyes as the adults all laugh at his childishness. The one thing you always admired about him was his ability to make light of any situation.
"So, Vivian, where's Ralph? Already started watching the big game?" Jack asks.
"No, I'm afraid his flight was a bit delayed. He should be home in an hour or so. Make yourself at home though, you know where the den is."
"Actually Viv, we're both going to help you prepare dinner. Jack and I have agreed he's been getting a little too into sports lately."
"You and Jack agreed what?" the man asks, panicked. "Jack remembers agreeing to no such thing."
"Come on, it'll be good for you. I promise you'll get to watch after halftime."
"Fine," he sighs. "This is the thanks I get for staying up late with you to watch that movie about a notebook? Sharpay, I swear, I'm so underappreciated!"
You laugh, seeing a grown man being so dramatic. You admire how alike he is to his son.
"Oh yes Jack, no one understands you," Marie mocks. "You kids behave!" Are the last words that ring out in the open entryway, before the three adults disappear into the kitchen.
"Well Bolton, I'll be seeing you."
"What? Where are you going?"
"Up to my room. There's no way I'm spending my day watching a bunch of overpaid athletes feel each other up trying to get a ball."
"Well I'm not watching it alone! Where's Ryan?"
"Good question." It's incredibly likely though, that he's hiding out. You know, after kissing Troy's girlfriend and all.
"Come on, Sharpay!"
"Nope. You'll only really be watching half of it yourself. But if I know your dad, he'll sneak in to watch it while our mothers are reading a cookbook."
"Fine," he relented. "You're probably right, anyways."
"I always am."
He raises an eyebrow as a smile comes to his lips. You give him a quick wink as you turn around to walk up the stairs. The first thing you're going to do is take these damned shoes off.
---
You give a screech as the door bangs open, scaring you from the episode of The O.C. you had TiVo-ed.
"Troy! What the hell do you think you're doing, besides giving me a heart attack?"
"I got bored. And that," he says while jumping onto the side of your king sized bed and stealing the remote from your hand. "Is when I remembered you have a plasma in your room."
"I already told you I'm not watching sports!"
"Well it seems you are."
"I was watching something before you rudely interrupted."
"He didn't do it, they all work it out in the end."
"What? How do you know? You watch The O.C.?"
"No, but they always work it out in the end, don't they?"
You growl and mutter a few choice words under your breath and you wonder how exactly you've ended up with Troy Bolton lounging carelessly on your bed, hands tucked behind his head as he stares intently at a bunch of sweaty men on TV. The only thing that made the thought of this stupid holiday bearable was that Troy would be occupied for at least two hours before he came to bug you.
You're once again startled as he begins to shout, "Go, go, go, go, go! Ohhhhhhh!"
"What just happened?"
"Damn, we almost scored! We're losing now!"
"Oh no!" you say dramatically. "Say it ain't so!"
"I know! Can you belie- Wait a minute, you're mocking me, aren't you?"
"Just a little."
"Well that's not nice."
"Ooh, my sincerest apologies to the most respectable Mr. Bolton."
"That's more like it!"
"Newsflash Troy, just because East High worships you doesn't mean I will."
"You used to. Remember 'tootles'?"
"Lapse in judgement. I had no idea what I was thinking. In fact, I blame temporary insanity."
"Ouch, way to hurt a man's ego."
"Trust me, you need to be taken down a notch. Or two. Or three. Or-"
"Alright, alright. I get it. You think I'm some pompous moron who takes for granted the school worships me 'cause I can make a few free throws."
"Are you denying it?"
"No, I guess not. It just sounds really harsh when you say it out loud."
"Yeah well, I call 'em as I see 'em."
"You know, I've always liked that about you."
"What?"
"That you tell the truth; straight up, no exceptions, no cover-ups, no apologies. You say what you mean and you're not afraid what someone will think about it."
"Don't tell me you admire me? Especially not for that."
"Why not?"
"Because it's stupid, Troy. Yeah, I'm blunt, but look where it's gotten me."
"Alone in your room with the hottest guy in school," he says cheekily, waggling his eyebrows.
"Who has a girlfriend."
"Since when has Sharpay Evans ever been scared of Gabriella Montez?"
"Scared? Pssh, never. I'm just stating the facts."
"Knock, knock," comes a voice from outside the door. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Daddy!" you screech, jumping up from the bed and running towards his open arms.
"How are you, Blondie?"
You laugh at the nickname, he's been calling you that since you were two. "I would've been better if you weren't gone so long this time! I missed you!"
"I know. I really am sorry, but one thing led to another and this deal took longer than we thought it would."
"Promise me you'll call more next time!"
"I promise. Oh, hello there Troy," he says for the first time noticing the brunette boy.
"Hey Mr. Evans."
"Troy," he says warningly. "I've seen you in the bathtub, I think it's quite alright to call me Ralph."
You see Troy smile at the friendly man. Your father has this way of making everyone around him feel at ease. "Sorry man, old habits I guess."
"Oh yes, I remember how you used to be scared of me. Your mother would call up Vivian and apologize that she had to cancel your little play-date with Sharpay and Ryan because you were scared to come over."
Troy rubs his neck, "Yeah, ha ha. That was me, young and stupid."
"So unlike the way you are now, right?" you ask sarcastically. Troy doesn't seem to notice the tone in your voice.You see his face darken as he looks at you, ready to fire back. But the smile on your face disarms him.
"Relax, I was joking."
"Oh!" your father says interestedly. "You're watching the game! How are we faring?"
"Up by seven, one minute left 'till halftime."
"Good. I suppose I'll go rescue you're father from the women now. Feel free to join us Troy, I imagine Sharpay isn't enjoying the game very much."
"Are you kidding? Sharpay doesn't know the difference between a quarterback and Nickelback."
"Hey!" you reply indignantly. "Sharpay is also standing right here, you know!"
Your father laughs and musses the hair you spent so much time on, "I'll see you later, Blondie." You watch him walk out of the room until you can no longer see his salt-and-pepper hair, a smile on your face. Your father's finally home, and things seem a little brighter all of a sudden.
---
"Can you please pass the mashed potatoes, Ryan?" Marie asks your brother who's silently sitting and staring at his food, his fork twirling a piece of asparagus.
"Ryan?"
"Ryan!" you shout, breaking him out of his reverie.
"Huh?"
"Can you please pass the potatoes?" she asks again, voice still as warm and kind as ever. That's the most obvious difference between her and your mother. They both add a 'dear' or a 'honey' or even a 'darling' when speaking, but Marie actually means it when she says it.
"Oh, sure, sorry," Ryan mumbles. Passing the dish and returning to his previous activities. His eyes won't leave his plate, but it certainly doesn't help that Troy is sitting across from him.
"Hey Ryan, where we you all morning, man? I needed someone to watch the game with, your sister kept changing it to that loser soap opera."
"The O.C. is not a soap opera!" you defend. Partially because it's your favorite show, and partially to get the subject away from Ryan who was staring like a deer in headlights.
"Let's see- the actors suck, there's been rape, drugs, sex, cheating, death, murder, an illegitimate child, and it's set in Newport Beach. Sure sounds like a soap to me."
"Just curious Troy, how do you know so much about that show if you hate it so much?"
"Well, I, um. You see, the thing is..." he sighs defeatedly. "Guilty pleasure."
"Ha! Yes! Victory! I finally have something to hold against the golden boy!"
The adults look on amused as you pump your arms and a dark blush tints Troys cheeks.
"Aw, don't be embarrassed my ickle Troy-kins. I won't tell anyone...yet."
"I've decided I don't like you very much Sharpay."
---
"Why has Ryan been acting so weird?"
"He's always been weird."
"But it's just, he hasn't said anything all night. He looks really bad too, like he lost weight."
"He's just had some things on his mind, that's all. It's nothing to be worried about, I'm sure."
"If you say so."
"Well, I do."
"You know Sharpay, you've been uncharacteristically nice today."
"Ooh, big word. Good job."
"I'm serious."
"What, was that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Well, actually I don't know. It's just- you seem a lot happier today then you're at school. It was only a few days ago you kicked me out of your house."
"You deserved it, you were being an asshole."
"I still don't understand what I did."
"It's nothing. I'm still surprised that you're still surprised I can be nice. We did used to be friends, or have you forgotten?"
"No, I haven't. I mean, I couldn't even if I wanted to. Every time I see your parents all they talk about is how me and you used to run around naked when we were three."
"It's not our faults they put us in itchy, not to mention matching, overalls. I looked like a boy."
Troy laughs, the mental picture obviously becoming too much for him. "God, do you remember those ugly things? I can never remember where Ryan was during all of this streaking."
"Probably with my mom. He was really shy when he was little, practically attached to my mom's hip."
"Good times."
"Yeah," you agree wistfully. They were some of the best times, certainly better than the current times.
"Wow, I can't believe you have this!" Troy says, picking up that glittery gold frame you know all so well. "Do you remember when we decorated these frames? My mom bought us this little crafts kit and you were decorating the frame for your mom for Mother's Day but you liked it so much you kept it for yourself."
You laugh, slightly nervously. "Yeah, I remember I dumped the pink glitter on you because you said I was being too sloppy." Please don't ask about the picture.
"Oh yeah! It took me weeks to get it all out of my hair. Believe it or not, sometimes I still find pink glitter stuck in my carpet."
"You're lying! Do you ever vacuum?" Please don't ask about the picture.
"Sharpay, look at me. I'm a guy, do you really think I do?"
"That's true." Please don't ask about the picture.
"So when was this picture taken?" Fuck.
"Not too long after we made the frames. It was a family picnic."
"You look so happy," he says noticing the smile that almost consumes your entire face.
"I was."
"Was it, raining?"
"Yeah."
He looks at you with a smile and suddenly he squints his eyes in a calculating way. This is exactly what you didn't want to happen. He's beginning to figure things out.
"But of course that rain was nothing like the monsoon of '99."
"No kidding. Now that was an experience. I was sick for two weeks after we tried to swim in my driveway. Not to mention, put in time out."
"Me too. My mom chewed me out for ruining my dress, it was a gift."
"Oops."
"Oh yeah."
"Hey Sharpay?"
"Yeah?"
"What ever happened to us?"
"What do you mean?"
"We used to be best friends and then, I don't even know how, we were more like enemies."
"I don't know. I guess it's complicated, but do you honestly think if our parents weren't friends, we would be? When we were little it was one thing, as far as I was concerned our classmates were a sad lot. Even then, we rarely saw each other, and in Middle School I guess we started making our cliques. You got more involved in basketball, I got more involved in acting, and we were done. I suppose we weren't really meant to be friends once we grew up and figured out who we really were. It was easier back then, all we cared about was having fun, not if you were a jock and I was a drama queen."
"Like Kindergarten," he says quietly.
"Um, sure."
"But we're friends now, aren't we?"
"On some level I guess. But there's a difference between friends and friendly."
---
"Thank goodness the Boltons have left. Now I can ask you what exactly you were thinking when you decided to do your hair that way."
"I thought it looked nice."
"Sharpay, if you would like to do your hair like that for school, I cannot stop you, though I would want to. Today was a holiday and holidays require us to look nice. It seems everyone had succeeded in that simple task, except you."
"I'm sorry." I'm sorry damnit, I'm always fucking sorry.
"I will have to call Alexander to come do your hair next time, there is no way I can let my child walk around looking like that. One would have thought you had birds keeping residence in there."
"Why does it matter? I've known the Boltons since I was two! I really don't think they care what my hair looks like."
"Oh you naive little girl. You do not need to be on a stage to act. Masking unpleasantness is something even most common people can do. I just do not know what to do with you anymore. You are a constant mess and furthermore, it is as if you do not care! I cannot have you running around so recklessly! There are certain ways a girl is supposed to act, and certain things a girl is supposed to do. I can say with complete honesty that you are not doing any of these things. I am going to have to see an improvement in you soon, understood?"
"Yes."
"Good."
And just when you think things can't get any worse, in walks Troy.
"Uh sorry. Was I interrupting anything?"
"Oh no, Troy, don't be ridiculous. What is it that you needed?"
"I, uh, I left my cell on Sharpay's nighttable."
"Well help yourself, dear. I will be seeing you soon, I hope. I am off to bed now though, goodnight kids."
She's off in a moment, silk robe billowing behind her. Troy crosses the room slowly to the white piece of furniture. He picks up the phone, and as he heads back to the door he stares at you. A piercing stare and with an overwhelming sense of dread you realize he's heard everything.
"Goodnight, Troy," you say calmly.
He just keeps staring until he reaches the door, hesitating under the frame. He battles himself for only a moment longer before whispering a "'Night."
And then he's gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. This could prove to be quite dangerous...
a/n: I apologize for the insane amount of dialogue in here, next chapter will be full of what's going on in Sharpay's head. I'm thinking they'll definitely balance each other out. So that was, I think, my longest chapter so far but it was pretty jam-packed. You've met Sharpay's dad, seen what the Boltons are like when not obsessing over basketball, watched in shock & horror as Sharpay had slightly sympathetic feelings for the "Scenestealer," learned about Troy & Sharpay's past (albeit, a little cliched), oh and not to mention RYAN KISSED GABRIELLA! dun dun dunnnn.. damn, not even I saw that one coming
So what happens next? Will Gabriella tell Troy? Will Sharpay tell Troy? Did Troy really overhear Sharpay and her mom? Will Ryan ever get any sleep? Hopefully I'll come up with those answers sometime soon. Don't forget to review:D