Boy Disease 4
Chad never paid much attention to the music room, so he wasn't sure why he stopped and tilted his head toward the door. But when he did, he forgot about stopping at his locker after free period.
There was a song that he wasn't familiar with, but over the music was a voice he did know. Cautiously, he opened the door and stuck his head inside. Kelsi was at the piano, grinning and moving her head with the jazzy, upbeat song while Ryan stood beside her, singing and swiveling his hips with the music.
It took Chad a minute before he realized he needed to swallow to keep his mouth from drying.
Martha clapped when Kelsi and Ryan finished. "That song is so cool, Kels!"
"Yeah, Sharpay might even like it," Ryan smiled.
Kelsi beamed. "Thanks, guys. It's different, so I wasn't sure."
"No, it's good!" Martha insisted. "Makes you want to get up and dance."
Ryan nodded then quickly turned to Kelsi. "Play the middle section. With your solo that has all the triplets."
Kelsi giggled then brought her hands to the keys. Ryan left her side and motioned for Martha. He took her hands and they spun, then moved together with fast, smooth steps.
From the door, Chad watched, unable to blink. The way Ryan moved – all fluid and precise at the same time – and every move centered on those hips and the area around those hips, which Chad definitely shouldn't be staring at. At least, he thought he shouldn't, but watching Ryan made him not quite sure anymore.
Martha twirled, moving her arms with her head, and noticed Chad still hovering in the doorway. "Hey, Chad!"
Ryan spun in place and Chad had a feeling that if Ryan were a less graceful person, he might've stumbled.
"Hey." Chad finally stepped through the door. "I was…" he started to gesture toward the hallway, but felt awkward and stopped. "I heard your song," his eyes made brief contact Ryan's before he looked at Kelsi. "It sounded awesome."
"Thanks," she smiled and gathered her sheet music.
Chad smiled back, but his gaze quickly wandered toward Ryan who glanced down when he noticed Chad's eyes on him, his cheeks turning light pink. Chad grinned, feeling more than a little warm as he stared into blue eyes.
Picking up her books, Martha started for the door. "Hey," she said as she walked by Chad. "Are you… Did you and Taylor make up?"
Chad tore his eyes away to look at her. "What? Oh. Yeah, yeah. We're all good."
"Oh, good!" Martha said. "We've missed you at lunch. Adam says he can't be the only sane guy there. You know Troy and Zeke have a tendency to zone out when Gabriella and Sharpay are around."
Chad hummed and let his gaze drift back to Ryan. "Yeah, we'll see you there later."
"Great!" Martha met Kelsi and both called, "Bye, Ryan!"
Ryan waved and smiled politely.
Once the girls left, Chad glanced around the unfamiliar room, casually walking toward Ryan with his hands in his pants pockets. He gave the blond a head nod and a suave smile. "Hey."
Ryan laughed. "Hey."
Pleased, Chad felt anxious energy sparking in his arms and legs. "What was that dance you were doing with Martha?"
Ryan tipped his head. "Dance? Oh, nothing really. She wanted to know some formal steps. So, I showed her a few things."
Chad pressed his lips together, itching for… something. He didn't quite know, but there was definitely wanting involved. He met Ryan's eyes. "Show me?"
Ryan stared, then looked confused. "The partner moves? Or anything?"
Chad shrugged. "Whatever. Just show me something." He watched Ryan take a long breath and roll his lower lip into his mouth. Chad swallowed again.
Deciding on a dance, Ryan started to extend his hands toward Chad, but hesitated and dropped them back to his sides and looked like he was thinking up something different.
"Here," Chad offered his hands.
Ryan's soft blue eyes flicked across Chad's face before he placed his hands in Chad's palms. "Ok," he directed their hands out to the side. "Now, step toward me so you almost touch my right side with yours." When Chad did, Ryan smiled. "Now, step back. Then do it with your left side."
Chad followed his instructions, studying Ryan's eyes. "So, what is this?"
"Simple swing," Ryan answered, directing him to repeat the step faster.
Chad watched Ryan twist his body when he stepped forward and mimicked the swiveling hip motion Ryan seemed to like so much.
Ryan's eyes lit and he broke into a bright grin. "Ok," he said on a backwards step. "Now, turn and put your arm over your head. Like this," he demonstrated and moved Chad's hands with his.
"Then what?"
"Let go of the top hand," Ryan let go of the hand behind his head. "And step backward but slide along this hand." He moved and caught the hand he'd let go of with his opposite hand as he stepped away.
"Oh, that's cool!" Chad bounced on his toes. "Do it again." Laughing, Ryan moved to their starting position and repeated the motions. Chad gripped his hand when they finished. "Now what?"
Smirking, Ryan lifted their hands. "Spin."
Chad snickered and twirled, his heart rushing when he heard Ryan laugh.
Grinning, he spun Ryan and caught him, pressing their bodies together. He felt Ryan breathe, his chest moving and touching Chad's, and watched Ryan's grin fade, though it still glowed in his eyes. He held Ryan's gaze until the blue eyes dropped lower and Ryan's tongue slid out along his lips.
Chad clenched his fingers in Ryan's shirt.
Ryan jumped and broke away when the bell for class rang.
Chad stayed where he'd been, watching Ryan pick up his messenger bag. He stared at the blond boy, his heart pounding and his head spinning, too many thoughts going through his head that he was sure shouldn't be going through his head.
Sighing a long breath, Ryan smiled softly and inclined his head toward the door. "You coming?"
Chad swallowed and nodded quickly, following him to class.
Normally, Chad was bursting with extra energy before a basketball game. He couldn't wait to go out there and show everyone wicked Wildcat skills and prove just how awesome his team was. Except, even with as hard as he tried, the game was still the furthest thing from his mind.
He sat on the bench in the locker room, idly flicking the laces on his shoes. So, maybe he and Ryan had a weird kind of chemistry. Maybe Chad had thought about the way Ryan's tongue traced his lips or the way Ryan chewed on his lower lip or the perfect, inviting shape of Ryan's mouth.
Chad might've thought about Ryan and kissing and both of those at the same time, and maybe he hadn't really stopped thinking about it, but he didn't know what that meant.
Sure, he could come up with possible answers, including the fact that he still hadn't kissed Taylor and could be projecting his kissing wants onto everyone around him. But he had no idea what the right answer was. And his date with Taylor was tomorrow. What if he screwed up again? What if he upset her? What if she didn't forgive him?
Chad placed his elbows on his knees and rubbed the sides of his head. He so did not need this right now.
"Hey!" Troy's head appeared from around the lockers. "You ready?"
Sitting up, Chad nodded and tried repeating in his head, the game, the game, the game.
Troy sat next to him, straddling the bench and giving him that sad, concerned look he was so good at. "Dude, you okay?"
"Just." Chad sighed, "Nervous. A lot on my mind."
"Before a game?"
Chad shrugged.
Troy smiled, "You gotta get–"
"You finish that sentence and I'll have to... something."
Sighing, Troy rolled his eyes, still smiling. "So, then talk to me."
Chad ran a hand over his head, considered it, and then glanced around the locker room. "Okay," he said when he'd turned back to Troy. "I keep thinking about tomorrow and it freaks me out when I do."
"Why?"
"I'm taking Taylor out."
"Oh! You'll be fine. I know it's scary before you actually do it, but Taylor thinks you're super fly. It'll all work out."
Chad raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Wait, I thought you hadn't... please, for the love of all that is or was or might be holy, tell me you haven't done Gabriella."
"What?" Troy tipped his head. "Oh, no," he shook his head and made crossing out motions with his hands. "No, no. I meant I've worried before a first date that everything would go wrong and she'd end up hating me or thinking I'm a loser."
Chad nodded slightly, relieved that he hadn't fallen that far behind.
"But you know Taylor," Troy continued, reassuringly placing his hand on Chad's shoulder. "This isn't something brand new. You've been out tons of times with the gang and with me and Gabriella." Removing his hand, Troy gestured for emphasis. "You get along great. I don't think you've told me about one fight or anything. Well, except for right now. But still. She's totally crazy about you."
Sighing deeply, Chad slumped and wondered why Troy's words made him feel worse.
"You know she likes you. And you'll get past this and it'll make you even closer. You'll get to kiss her and be with her and you'll see how good you are together. And how perfect you are for each other."
Chad stared with furrowed eyebrows, worried that Troy was being serious. "Man, seriously. Quit with the after school special."
"Hey! I'm trying to help you out," Troy said with frown.
"I know, but," Chad stopped and let out a frustrated groan. "It doesn't help. It makes it worse. And maybe there's a reason this hasn't happened. You know? What if there's... like... something else?"
Looking at him with utter confusion, Troy asked, "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. I keep thinking there's something. And then this doesn't even feel right," Chad stared into Troy's eyes, trying to make him understand, but was met with the same baffled expression. Defeated, he sighed and looked down. "I don't know if it ever felt right. But I don't know why."
Troy sat quietly. "What else would there be?"
Chad shook his head, uneasy churning in the pit of his stomach. "I don't know."
Troy glanced at the clock and sighed as he stood, looking down sympathetically. "You're just psyching yourself out 'cause you're nervous. It'll be okay." He motioned toward the gym. "C'mon. Game time. We'll kick ass and you'll forget all about it."
Reluctantly, Chad twisted himself off the bench, following Troy and wishing that his best friend wasn't absolutely, one hundred percent wrong about everything.
