Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from High School Musical. There, I said it. Oh, but I do own Lori, Henry, Miles, and Patricia Simmons. But anyone can use them, if you want. I don't mind.
AN: Yay! Okay, after three chapters, they finally meet again in this one. Enjoy (hopefully)! Oh, and I finally saw HSM3... armed with the excuse that I was taking my 11-year-old little sister to see it, should I meet anyone I know at the theater. I know, I should probably be "breaking free" and not be embarrassed... but whatever. Real life isn't a Disney movie. My thoughts: it was okay, but kind of overly-Troyellafied. I mean, they should have maybe put in a little more of the other couples *cough Ryelsi cough*. But at least they had some. So I'm good.
...
Kelsi made her way to a dark corner of the club, hoping to get away from the sweaty mass of bodies dancing to the music. It was much less crowded in the back, so she looked for an empty table for a seat.
"Um, excuse me," she said timidly, tapping a blond guy sitting in a booth on the shoulder. He had his head in his hands as if nursing a headache. She wondered if he was drunk. "Sorry, I was wondering if you mind if I share a table with you. There're a lot less people here, you know?"
The guy shrugged. "Sure, I have space." She smiled gratefully.
"Thanks," she said. She settled in an arm's-length away from him and took out the song she had been working on. It reminded her of when she and Ryan Evans had written "Everyday," the summer before senior year. The song was her pride and joy, and Gabriella Montez and Troy Bolton's voices were perfectly matched, for the music and for each other. She started humming the tune in her head.
"What?" the guy said, jerking his head up. "What were you just singing?"
"Oh, um," she stammered, blushing. She hadn't realized she was humming aloud. "Just a song my friend and I, um, composed a couple years ago." If only he were more than a friend, she thought to herself.
"Everyday," he breathed. "Everyday / of our lives / wanna find you there / wanna hold on tight."
"You know it?" she asked, shocked. She lifted her eyes and found she was staring straight into his surprisingly familiar icy blue ones. His hand slowly reached out and she froze, not knowing what to expect. He finally touched her face gently, almost disbelievingly, like she was a mirage and might disappear. She flinched at the jolt of electricity when his hand made contact with her skin. Was she the only one who noticed?
"Kels?" the blond guy asked in amazement. "Kelsi Nielsen?"
"Ryan!" she exclaimed, but he put a finger to her lips and motioned for her to quiet down. "Is that you? I didn't know you were in New York." She paused, studying the face of the guy she'd liked practically forever, but hadn't seen in person for the last two years. "Funny, I wouldn't have exactly pegged you the type to go clubbing," she said, hoping to lighten the mood with a little humor.
"Well, Sharpay emailed me saying that this was one of the must-go places to see and be seen." He smiled wryly.
"Not many people are going to see you if you're sitting in the back," she joked. She wasn't usually what many people would call funny, but sometimes she said things that surprised even her. She wondered why Ryan Evans, especially now that he was an A-list movie star, would be talking to her. She wasn't Sharpay, with a dramatic attitude and diva-like confidence. She wasn't Taylor McKessie, ready to fire back a witty remark or snappy comeback at any given time. She especially wasn't Gabriella Montez, the Spanish beauty who managed to win the musical callbacks, the Scholastic Decathlon, and East High's golden boy all in one day. She was just Kelsi, with plain gray eyes and brown hair and nothing special to boast about.
"Guess not," Ryan said. "So, what are you doing here?"
"I'm accompanying my roommate and her boyfriend," she said, gesturing to the dance floor. "And I don't really have anything better to do. Except, you know, working on my song."
"Oh, hey, speaking of songs," Ryan said. "I actually, um, came here to ask you if you'd help me write one. My agent thinks that I might be able to break into the music business too." Her smile dimmed a notch, and Ryan immediately knew he'd said the wrong thing. He sounded like someone who was using her to get something he wanted, not a friend. Ugh, he was really bad at this romance stuff. He hoped that by this time Kelsi hadn't figured out that he was capable of writing good songs, but hers a) were undeniably better, and b) gave him an excuse to talk to her.
"I suppose," Kelsi said, forcing a smile back on her face. "To help a friend, right? Oh, before I forget, I want to introduce you to my roommate. She's a huge fan. I'll be right back." She disappeared into the darkness and he sighed.
…
Ryan took out his phone and pressed 1 on his speed dial. "Hey, Shar," he said.
"Hi!" she answered, full of energy. He wondered how anyone could be full of energy at eleven at night, but then remembered the time difference. It was only seven back in L.A. "What's that music in the background? Where are you?"
"I'm at L'Eau, you know, that nightclub you wanted me to go to?" he said. "I kinda need some advice."
"Aww," she cooed into the phone. "Does my Ry-Ry need his big sister's advice?" Ryan rolled his eyes but smiled. Much as he didn't want to admit it, he missed Sharpay.
"Look, she's here," he whispered urgently.
"Who? Nicole? I heard she was in New York these few days. If Paris's with her, can you tell her that everything I said about her at Brad and Angie's baby shower last month was totally untrue? She's probably too dense to stay angry at me anyways," Sharpay said, "but I don't need one more spoiled-rotten heiress on my case." Ryan could picture her waving her hand in the air dismissively, and he bit his tongue in an effort to restrain from reminding his sister that a few years ago, she was a spoiled-rotten heiress too.
"No, no," he hissed, glancing around nervously. She would be back with her friend any minute now. "Not Paris or Nicole. You know. Kelsi."
"Oh. Oh. Okay, then. I'll be there by morning tomorrow, 'kay? Ugh… doesn't American Airlines have any more first-class seats left? Maybe I'll go United."
"Shar. What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I'm coming! To help you with your, um, romance problem. No one better to help than me, right, Ry?"
"Wait a second—you're okay with it? That I like Kelsi, I mean?" he asked, surprised.
"Better Kelsi than, say, Little Miss Perfect Princess Montez," Sharpay reasoned. Even though she had stopped openly loathing Gabriella Montez, they weren't exactly friends by graduation. "I'll be there tomorrow. Pick me up at ten in the morning, East Coast time, okay?"
He groaned inwardly, but managed a weak "Thanks, see you soon," and hung up, praying for a miracle.
…
AN: Haha, I've always imagined Sharpay name-dropping (no offense intended if you like Nicole Richie and/or Paris Hilton). Even if she doesn't do it on purpose. Anyways, sorry for the short chapter. I've had a bunch of tests and such... screw high school. I promise I'll make the next chapter longer(ish). And with more Ryan/Kelsi interaction.
