i've had enough of your games ..
if you're not trembling, you better be.
- -
It had been a long weekend. Actually, it had been a really long weekend. Between losing consciousness at his first wild high school party and becoming friends with the Ice Princess, it surely was one to remember. Monday, needless to say, school had been a struggle. His head pounded, though not in the way it did when he was hung over. It simply pounded with a headache from over-thinking -- at least, that's what he thought. Tuesday hadn't been much better; when he thought about it he could barely remember a moment of any of his classes, that's how wholly boring it was. At long last it seemed, he was getting used to the silence that settled over him wherever he went.
He swiftly moved through the hallways -- inwardly rejoicing at the fact that he didn't hobble so much anymore (Weebles wobbled, Troys did not) -- and made it to his locker in record time. The sight that greeted him put an impossibly large smile on his face. He couldn't even hide the laughs that echoed through the hollow recesses of his throat.
He heard whispers all around him, fingers pointing in everywhichway, but it didn't bother him. This morning he knew the gossip wasn't about him. Snickers, stares, people shouting across the halls to show their friends -- it was such an amusing sight this particular Wednesday.
Troy ripped the neon-colored photocopied paper off of his locker and studied it, a smirk lighting his features. Charlie Duncan stormed his way down the hallway, and Troy could only clutch his stomach as a new wave of laughter ripped through him.
"What's the matter, Chuck? Upset someone found out your dirty little secret?" he found himself calling. For just a moment the entire school was back on his side again as they laughed and snicked along with his comments.
"Bolton," he growled dangerously, taking long strides to meet him. His face was pressed closely to Troy's, and if he wanted to he could have counted every frown-line on his face. "I know it was you."
"Me? Do this? Dude, in case you didn't know, I'm on crutches. Don't you think that would have been a little hard?"
Duncan simply tossed out a sarcastic grin, "If you don't back off, I'll make sure you really need those crutches, don't worry about that."
TWO DAYS EARLIER
"This whole Chad Michael Murray-style brooding really doesn't suit you," Sharpay said with the wave of a hand. She was lying languidly in Troy's own bed, flipping through an old magazine he had been reading to displace his boredom hours before. Three times he had asked her (politely, nonetheless, as he was still trying to figure out how to be friends with someone like her) to possibly lounge on the recliner instead, but she just ignored him. His parents weren't strict per se, but even they would have a comment to make about a girl looking so comfortable in their teenaged son's bed.
Noah's eyebrows drew together, "You think CMM? Personally, I see him as a tortured Ben McKenzie."
"Now that you mention it, yeah. If you squint and turn your head a bit like this--"
Troy had watched as both Sharpay and Noah tilted their heads to the sides and studied him carefully.
"Thanks for the support, but I'm really not in the mood to hear you compare me to wannabe-actors at the moment."
"Does Chad do the biting off of the head better than Ben?" Sharpay remarked off-handedly, seeming to not have heard a word Troy said.
"I'm still torn."
"This is ridiculous!" he shouted angrily, "I'm out of here."
"Oh, come on," she said with a laugh, tugging him back by the hem of his shirt. "We're friends now, right? This is what friends do. Besides, this is your house."
Troy blushed slightly, forgetting that little fact. Lately he had been wondering if rage was something a person was born with, or if it could be acquired over time. He didn't remember ever feeling as out of sorts as he had in the past couple of weeks, which just seemed to intensify the feeling.
"This lovefest has got me feeling very bubbly inside," Noah said, taking Sharpay's piercing glance off of him, "But the game starts in half an hour. I should get going."
"Wait, I'm not coming with you tonight?" Sharpay asked with a pout, flipping the magazine closed.
"I figured you'd want to keep our resident loner some company so he doesn't slit his wrists, or something."
"Oh. Well, Troy why don't you come too?"
Troy grimaced, but tried to hide it. There was nothing he wanted to do less than go watch his former teammates -- who he was convinced hated him -- run around and pretend to ignore him. In a worst case scenario they would lose, and his father would be completely broken up about it. In a best case scenario, however, they would win and Troy would be completely annoyed. It was a lose-lose situation either way he looked at it.
"Sorry, I promised to help my parents do something tonight."
"Oh really?" Sharpay asked with somewhat of a maniacal glint in her eyes.
"Yeah, afraid so."
"And what would that be, exactly?"
Shit. Troy had never -- not by a long shot -- ever been a good liar. He didn't do it often, not having the need, so whenever he did his palms began to sweat and his brain ceased to function. "Uh, to clean out the garage!"
Had his leg not been in a cast that might have been a good excuse. Sharpay saw right through it. "Enough, Troy. You're coming with us, even if we have to drag you there. Got it?"
His teeth grinded together in annoyance. Sharpay had been the one spewing all that crap about friendship, yet she was still flinging orders left and right. Some friend she was, alright. She seemed just as classy and loyal as Chad and Jason, and the rest of the guys.
Noah looked back and forth between Troy and Sharpay before letting out a low whistle. "I'd listen to her, Troy. We've already demonstrated our mad lifting skills, and I don't think you want a repeat while you're conscious."
Noah, somehow, always seemed to make situations less tense, and he was thankful for that. But still, he didn't want to see any of the faces of his former friends. He could just picture their eyes, everyone's eyes, following him as he entered the gym, watching him closely as if waiting for him to spontaneously combust or something. Charlie Duncan, for sure, would be the worst. He'd probably throw in some meant-to-be-scathing comment and wink as he sunk the ball for a three-pointer.
Charlie Duncan. And that got him thinking. If Charlie and Gabriella were going out, or hanging out, or whatever the fuck they were calling it, then surely she'd be at the game? He knew he shouldn't have, but somewhere inside of him he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to straighten things out, ask her once and for all what was going on between them. Were they still dating, or had she moved on? But more importantly, where the hell was she when he was lying in a hospital bed?
"Alright, let's go," he found himself volunteering. His heart clenched in anticipation and his palms were sweating, but this time it wasn't from lying.
xxx
"Ladies and gentleman, tonight is the night we've been waiting for. Tonight pits the East High Wildcats versus bitter rivals, the West High Knights. It's still early into the season, but both teams stand the same in rankings, so this game is purely for bragging rights only."
The view behind the announcer's table was somewhat surreal, as if he was looking through someone else's eyes. Troy watched Noah grip his mike, and his face animatedly light up as he spoke to the crowd. He had to admit, he felt bad about ignoring the boy's presence for... well, forever. He should be as much a part of the team as the actual players themselves. Sharpay, he also had to admit (albeit, very grudgingly), was right in her observation that he walked with his head up his ass. So oblivious to anything outside of the out-of-bounds lines he never bothered getting to know anyone else.
He had helped start the "Breaking Free" trend, yet he had done nothing to further it along. How many times had he passed a smart kid in the hallway and never given him a second glance? How many times had he seen someone from the band and laughed under his breath as Chad made a joke? It was all too many times to count, that was for damn sure.
"And it's Duncan, with a very impressive slam dunk to add two more points to the Wildcats' side, bringing the score 10 to 9."
Duncan, Duncan, fucking Duncan. Upon arriving at the game (to the predictable stares and whispers), he had found what he was looking for. Second row from the top, all the way to the left was Gabriella Montez in all her glory. At the moment she had been telling what seemed to be an extremely interesting story, or piece of gossip, as Taylor and Kelsi sported huge grins and jumped in their seats while they made unattractive squealing noises.
In one of his more cynical moments -- though, weren't they all? -- he imagined she must have been telling them how dreamy Charlie had been as he innocently kissed her goodnight on her doorstep. Gag.
Troy looked over inconspicuously, noticing Gabriella's eyes were completely glued to the game unfolding on the floor. He had never seen her so interested in a sporting event before, as she had once confessed to him that she wasn't all too fond of them, but if her new boy toy was playing then it all made perfect sense.
"And at the end of the second quarter that brings us with the Knights in the lead with 27 points, and the Wildcats five down with 23."
Troy blinked confusedly, turning his head to the scoreboard to see if what Noah was saying was really true. It was already half-time? It was indeed, and he thought of himself as just a teeny bit pathetic that he had been staring at Gabriella for so long.
"Yo, Troy," Sharpay snapped her fingers in front of his face.
"Huh? What?"
"I said, do you wanna come with me to get a bottle of water?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."
As always, the exit to the gym was crowded as spectators left their seats in the bleachers to stretch their legs, use the restrooms, and of course buy snacks. (What was a sports event without snacks?) Sharpay, being the ever-dramatic person she was, shrilly exclaimed "Wow, Troy, I can't believe these people are being so inconsiderate! You're on crutches!" Troy had to stifle a smirk as she winked at him once the crowd parted for them, guilt-stricken looks over their faces.
Making their way to the PTA-sponsored table, Troy threw down a few dollars and grabbed a Gatorade out of the ice-filled tub on the floor, waiting for Sharpay to hurry up and stop looking around like she was lost.
"A bottled water, please," she requested primly. It was quite laughable that she bothered putting on a show for the parents, as most already knew her back-story from their children, and it was only obvious the one serving her did as well.
The middle-aged woman shirked back slightly as she said "I'm sorry, we're all out of water."
"What do you mean you're out of water? How can you be out of water?" Sharpay exclaimed loudly, drawing all attention in the hallway to herself. As she walked in the opposite direction they came, she muttered a clear "Stupid idiots, can't even give me damn water" under her breath.
As he hobbled off behind her fast pace, he asked a confused "Where exactly are you going?"
"To the vending machine at the end of the hall. At least that always has water." She threw a quick glance over her shoulder, "You can stay here if you want, and I'll be right back."
Troy nodded along and paused against a white wall. Though his leg had been cramping from the position it was in during the game and initially felt good to get some blood circulating again, there was no way he could keep up with her on his crutches.
He had just leant his head back and closed his eyes as the clicking of heels on the linoleum had faded away when he heard familiar voices drift through the empty part of the school; where he was being too far from the gym for anyone to usually venture.
"You have to leave? Already?" Troy followed the sound, moving to the far end of the wall he was against and peeked around the corner. In the perpendicular hallway, Charlie was standing before Gabriella, pouty lips and all.
"I promised my mom I'd be home for dinner. I'm sorry."
"I guess somehow I'll get over it."
She smiled, "I'm sure you will."
"Are we still on for tomorrow night?"
"Yep. You'll be at my house at five, right?"
"Count on it."
Troy's hands curled to fists at his side as he watched Duncan hug Gabriella. Over her shoulder, a light lit his eyes as he noticed Troy's head peeping. Before he pulled out of the hug, he tossed Troy a wink and walked in the opposite direction towards the locker room.
His blood was beyond boiling at this point. It was one thing to go after Gabriella knowing she was his ex, but doing it just because of it? That was low. Even for fucking Charlie Duncan that was low.
She didn't even seem fazed at all. It was like she couldn't even remember that she had only had a boyfriend a couple weeks before. Maybe she didn't care. Once Charlie dearest came around on his white horse, nothing about Troy the Screwup mattered anymore. And even though he'd hurt before, the pain settling deep within his chest was one of the worst feelings he'd ever had, including tearing his ACL.
"Oh, hey Troy. Did you want a water, too?"
"What?" his head snapped up quickly to see Sharpay carrying two Poland Spring bottles. "Oh, no. I was, uh, just coming to see if you got them alright."
"Okay. Do you want to head back in, or are you gonna meet us later?"
He blinked slowly, trying to decide. But seeing Charlie again was probably the last thing he wanted at the moment. So he stuttered a quick "I'll catch up."
She shrugged, and called a merry "Tootles!" over her shoulder, barely skipping a beat. His heart clenched again with a brand new realization. No one wanted him. No one cared whether he stuck to himself or followed along.
He hadn't realized how long exactly he sat sulking in the hallway. He propped himself onto the radiators again, just as he had done days before, back leaning heavily onto the lockers. But, when he finally returned to the gym, it was just in time to see Charlie's very own parade. He could easily pinpoint Chad, Zeke, and Jason in the middle of the group, holding Duncan's legs and pumping their unoccupied arms victoriously. It was obvious they had won, and Troy couldn't fight the grimace that came to his face.
"So, I think I'm just about ready to bail," a voice said softly in his ear. "Are you?"
He turned around and faced Sharpay, who stood with her arms crossed and a metallic bag perched on her left shoulder.
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"Okay, Chuckles, don't go getting all excited on me there. God forbid you show some emotion."
If only she knew.
"Let's just go, alright? This was a bad idea from the beginning."
"Well excuse me for trying to get you out of the house for once."
"Yeah," he mumbled grouchily. "Great job there. Every time you get me out of the house I end up having a jolly time."
"Oh save the sob story, Ben. Nobody forced you to come tonight, and no one shoved alcohol down your throat at Chelsey's party. That was all you, buddy, so let's not play the Blame Game."
Troy just grumbled again. It wasn't even worth putting up a fight anymore.
xxx
The next day he was determined for his stagnant optimistic side to peek out. His morning hadn't exactly been off to an enviable start, as the bright sun had woken him earlier than his alarm (with nearly forty-five minutes left to sleep), and the damn birds kept chirping their heads off, not allowing him to return to his nocturnal bliss. Then the hot water was on the fritz when he went to shower, as it often happened in only his bathroom (the plumbing in his parents' bathroom always worked just spiffily).
He had heard the phrase "a watched pot never boils" from his mother whenever he counted the minutes until he was able to go outside and play basketball with Chad or his dad, but it never felt as severe than waiting for the period bells to ring the entire morning. The extension of sympathy his teachers once gave him was coming to an end, and they didn't seem to at all enjoy the way his eyelids drooped during their lectures, or how when the were open they were always trained out the window or at the clock.
The fourth period bell rang at long last and, as usual, Troy was the first to leave the Criminal Law classroom, having packed his books nearly five minutes before the class would end. But really, what interest of his was it whether or not the "accused" was found guilty in a mock trial? If his leg had been feeling a bit better (and there weren't halls full of his classmates) he was quite in the mood to prance around and do a little jig, that's how happy he was to be freed for forty-five minutes.
And then, reality set back in and he once again realized he'd been far too optimistic by half. Charlie Duncan came marching down the hallway, waving and smiling to nearly everyone as he went. It had only taken days for the boy's popularity to equal that of Troy's own.
"Well, well, if it isn't my very own El Capitan. Tell me, how are things?"
"Just peachy, Duncan," Troy grumbled as he tried to pass him.
"Where are you off to in a hurry?"
"Someplace far from you."
"Ouch. You really know how to hit me where it hurts."
"Just get out of my way before I--"
"Before you what, Troy?"
He just blinked heavily, realizing there wasn't really all that much he could do. So he said nothing, moving around him in order to get to his locker. His stomach growled expectedly and he was secretly pleased when Sharpay and Noah turned up by his side, asking if he wanted to join them at the diner off-campus.
"That little smarmy ass," Sharpay said with an eye roll at Troy's recount of everything involving Charlie Duncan.
"Guess he's not as fantastic as everyone thinks he is," Noah added, with a purposeful sideways glance in Sharpay's direction.
The conversation halted there, as they all jumped out of Sharpay's silver 911 Carrera Cabriolet. Sliding into a squishy booth, Troy took a look around the place, remembering the last time he was there. It was the night after Twinkle Towne's opening, and he and his friends had ventured out to join the drama club in their annual celebration of another play well done.
Across from him in the booth, Sharpay sucked her strawberry milkshake thoughtfully. "I think you should get him back," she said out of nowhere.
"What?"
"Charlie. I think you should get some revenge on him for being such a jackass."
Noah swung his arm over her shoulders with a proud look on his face, "Now there's the Sharpay we all know and love-to-hate."
She, in turn, swatted him off playfully and said "I'm serious. Don't you think he deserves it?"
"Yes," he said quickly, not even hesitating to think about it.
"Well then. I'll help you if you want," she offered importantly. With a wink she added, "We all know how good at scheming I am."
Troy mulled it over for a minute. Did he really want to get involved in some slew of prank wars? Everybody at school loved the new basketball player, so Duncan would undoubtedly know it was him. But still, he figured he'd give just about anything to see that look of horror on his face for just one second, and the consequences would be thoroughly worth it.
"Alright. What've you got in mind?"
But surprisingly, Sharpay said nothing. She looked to be deep in thought as she drummed her fingers against the table. Then again, maybe this lack of idea was a sign. His mother was always going on and on about signs and following your gut instincts.
"You have to exploit one of their fears."
Troy looked to Noah in shock. For awhile there he had almost forgot about his presence. He didn't look at either himself or Sharpay, instead focusing solely on the pepper shaker he was sliding back and forth across the table.
"Okay," Sharpay drawled, "but how exactly do we go about that?"
Meanwhile, Troy took a different approach. "Their? I thought we were only targeting Duncan?"
"Oh, right," Noah briefly looked at him for a moment before losing interest and listlessly staring at the spice. "I can't keep track of what evil-doing I'm a part of these days."
"Hmm," Sharpay said, a manic glint lighting her eyes, "Noah may be on to something there."
"What do you mean?" Troy questioned, a slight fear erupting somewhere within him at the plots she was capable of formulating.
"Well, aren't you pissed at Chad and all your other friends? This could be the perfect opportunity to get them all back."
He mulled the fact over in his head a few times, trying to ignore Sharpay's expectant look across him. Right now he was nearing that invisible line, and he knew if the boundary was crossed, it was the proverbial point of no return.
"You'll be at my house at five, right?"
"Count on it."
Finally allowing himself to meet Sharpay's eyes, he felt a lazy smile tug at his lips as he took in the raised eyebrows and challenging smirk. It was nearly a second later when he clearly affirmed the broadening of their revenge plan.
"Homophobes," Noah broke the silence, again, suddenly.
Both Sharpay and Troy turned to him with bewildered expressions that begged unspoken questions.
He started to laugh then, picking up the pepper shaker and tossing it back and forth. "The entire basketball team is homophobic."
"Are not," Troy defended without even realizing it.
"Oh yeah?" Noah challenged. His eyes seemed to light in mirth, "At Chelsey's party when I first came up to you, you definitely thought I was hitting on you."
"I did not!" he replied, fully aware that the way he crossed his arms over his chest had made him seem like nothing but an petulant child.
"I saw your face when I said I'd been waiting for you."
"Alright, alright, fine. Whatever, I'll admit that maybe we're not used to that kind of behavior. But what does that have to do with anything."
Sharpay cut in, seeming to understand where Noah had been taking his idea. "We just need to set up Charlie in a -- shall we say -- compromising position. Then we get it on film and put it out there for the whole school. They'll gay-bash him right off the team."
"Who're we gonna get to do it, though?" Troy questioned. He knew that one thing was for damn sure, he would not be getting close to Duncan in that way, even if it was guaranteed revenge.
Sharpay seemed to have sensed this, as she turned her pleading eyes over to Noah, blinking innocently.
"No way," Noah stuttered out, trying to shield his eyes from the puppy dog treatment, "do not look at me. I wouldn't do this even if you agreed to take me to Comic-Con for the next three years."
"What if I took you to TJ so we could bet on some cock fights? Or sail with you to Tahiti?"
His resolve seemed to weaken, but just a bit. "Sorry, Paypay. I'm all for this 'bringing down the man' thing, but I'm off the radar now, and would not like to be put back on it by everyone thinking I'm feening for some Charlie Duncan."
"Fair enough, fair enough. Alright, so we need someone who isn't afraid of what other people think. Someone who will look all those jocks in the eye and just laugh if they try to call him some stupid name. Someone who's so sure of themselves and their sexuality that this won't bother them. Someone like..."
xxx
"You three want my help? Oh, this oughta be good," a voice laughed, hands reaching up to pull off the sunglasses covering his eyes on the overcast day.
"Come on, Ryan. You're our only hope," Sharpay insisted.
"That's just pathetic."
"We know."
"And this is to help Troy?"
Troy nodded vehemently. The thought that his hope for revenge depended on Ryan Evans was thoroughly unsettling.
"Why exactly would I want to do that?" he questioned, raising his eyes with a smirk playing on his lips that looked nearly identical to the one Sharpay often had, "it's not like you've ever really done anything for me."
"I'll do whatever you want," Troy bargained quickly.
"Please Ryan," Sharpay begged, seeing that the conversation was going nowhere.
Noah then gave the blond a significant look that Troy wondered if he should have understood, "We're trying to get back at Charlie."
"Charlie? Charlie Duncan?" he asked, now interested. "Well that's a horse of a different color!"
"So you'll help?" Troy asked happily.
"Sure, why not. I could always use an opportunity to fine-tune my acting skills."
"Good!" Sharpay grinned, reaching down to her brother's level in his lounge chair to him. "All you have to do is hit on him."
"That's it? Oh, come on. Give me a challenge."
"So you don't mind everyone at school thinking you're gay?" Troy asked.
"Troy," Ryan said slowly, "everyone already thinks I am. It's not like it'll hurt my reputation at all."
"What about Gemma?" Sharpay teased, "Will she mind?"
"I'm sure she'll find the whole thing hilarious."
"Who's Gemma?" Troy interrupted, not liking being left out of the loop.
"Oh, that's just his girlfriend. She's over there," Sharpay pointed across the vast expanse of green to a redhead yelling loudly at a balding man before pouring what appeared to be a smoothie on his head.
"She seems... nice."
Ryan smiled fondly, looking off dreamily, "She's a spitfire. Fits the redhead cliche perfectly. And not to mention she's wild in bed. You guys think you're the Wildcats? Pssh, you've never been in bed with her."
Troy stood there a bit uncomfortable as Noah let out a loud peal of laughter and Sharpay shrieked loudly, "Ryan! That is so not something a sister wants to hear about her brother!"
Ryan didn't even pretend to look apologetic with a sarcastic "Oops" dripping from his mouth. Minutes later there was a loud clanking and when the four teens turned their heads, Gemma had thrown down the stack of plates she'd been taking towards the kitchens of Lava Springs Country Club. Ryan then explained that his girlfriend hated her job there, and only kept it to piss off her rich, aristocratic parents who had set her up so she'd never have to work a day in her life. Naturally, it horrified them to think that their privileged daughter took a job serving their colleagues and clients.
After waiting for him to go explain why he'd be leaving, laughter then began to echo throughout the club. Her personality completely changed, Gemma doubled over with a hand to her heart and laughed as Ryan told her of Troy's revenge. He was back in a few minutes, lip gloss smears all over his face and neck, and Sharpay trying not to look vaguely ill.
It didn't take long to get back to the Evans' home, all of them piling into the living room and watching with eager eyes as Sharpay looked up Duncan in the phonebook.
"Hi," she said with a vicious smile, "May I please speak with Charlie? This is Sharpay."
She then put the phone on speaker and brought a finger to her lips to indicate (particularly to Noah, who seemed to be struggling to hold back his laughter) silence.
"Sharpay?" a voice then cut the silence, disbelief spread all through it.
"Hey Charlie, what's up?"
He laughed a bit, "Not much. Is there a reason you're calling, or you just wanted to check up on your favorite basketball player?"
Troy tried his hardest not to gag.
Sharpay giggled, doing her role perfectly. "Oh, ha, ha. I just wanted to see if you were busy."
"And why's that?"
"Well, if you really want to know, I thought it might be fun if we hung out."
"You did?"
"You don't?"
"No, no, of course I do. I'll just have to cancel some plans I'd already made," his smile was evident in his tone. "When and where?"
"My house, A.S.A.P."
"I'll be there."
"Can't wait."
Sharpay then hung up, looking very proud of herself. Troy had to admit, she had every right to be, her performance was brilliant. His nerves raced, he couldn't believe he was really going through with this. It felt good to know he was about to do something so cruel to someone who deserved it.
"Well, he didn't put up much of a fight, did he?" Noah remarked casually.
Ryan just put sat with his ever-present smirk on his face, rubbing his hands together as the first phase of the plan was complete.
xxx
From his right shoulder-blade to his left foot, every inch of Troy's body was aching. He was twisted at odd angles, trying hard to not be seen and accommodate his hurt knee all at once. He glanced down at the clock on his cell phone, waiting for the signal to be tossed. Just a few more seconds...
"I'm really thirsty," Sharpay's voice came from inside her room, "do you want anything?"
"No thanks," Charlie replied airily. Troy nearly harrumphed in indignation; he didn't even offer to get it instead, some guest he was. Better yet, some man he was. Gabriella sure did pick a good one, flashed bitterly through his head.
He then heard her light footsteps walk towards the door, and instead of hearing it shut, it was left open just the right amount of space to seem casual. In her absence, Duncan took to looking around the room curiously. He crossed over to the dresser, picking up knickknacks and turning them over for closer inspection. He picked up a framed picture of her, Noah, Ryan, and Gemma, and let out a scoff. Then, he did something that made Troy's stomach lurch.
Turning slightly, he headed closer and closer to the very closet Troy was perched in. Through the slits in the wood, he could see the dark sweatpants moving closer and closer. He quietly inhaled a gasp of air, trying to think of a clever cover story, as the heard a hand come into contact with the knob and certainly about to pull it open. Suddenly--
"Charlie? Hey, what are you doing here?"
Troy let out the breath he was holding, almost laughing at the jump the other room's occupant made as Ryan appeared at the door.
"Oh, Sharpay invited me over."
"Really? That's cool. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you outside of school before."
He was expecting some snide remark like "Yeah, such a shame," to leave Duncan's mouth, and was surprised when he agreed with an amicable "I know. We should set something up one day."
"Actually, now that you mention it, I'm trying to write a play myself and was wondering if you'd consider acting opposite me?"
"Oh, I'm no actor," he said quickly, leaning up against Sharpay's bureau with his arms crossed. Ryan, however, looked perfectly calm and collected, but there was a certain mirth in his grin.
"That's alright, I would ask Sharpay, but she's just so busy trying to work with Kelsi on the school's production. Oh, would you look at that!" Ryan exclaimed with what Troy knew was false surprise, "I just so happen to have what I've got so far in my pocket! We could do a little test run now, if you'd like. I'd really appreciate it. It will be nice to, you know, act opposite someone who isn't my sister."
Duncan fumbled for a moment, seeming to try and find a way to let him down, but Ryan had turned the puppy dog pout and earnest eyes on him and his resistance seemed to weaken. "Sure, I mean, Sharpay seems to be taking awhile to get a drink anyway."
"Great! Why don't you sit down," Ryan motioned towards Sharpay's four-post bed, "make yourself comfortable."
The two sat on the plush violet comforter, Ryan handing over a copy of his script -- which really only took about fifteen minutes to type up. Duncan scanned it, eyes flitting left to right, up and down, and vice-versa.
"Ryan," he said suddenly, uncomfortably. "This is a play about two gay guys."
Ryan just widened his eyes innocently, "And? Oh, sorry, does that make you uncomfortable? It doesn't, uh, hit a little close to home, does it?"
"No! I'm not gay or anything."
"Then what's the problem?"
Troy could see it from his place five feet away, there was a challenge on the blond's face and if there was one similarity between himself and Charlie Duncan, it was that both would never turn down a challenge.
"There's no problem."
Ryan toyed with the cobalt blue military hat on his head, then moved to clap his hands together, "Excellent! You can be Xavier and I'll be Phillipe."
"Okay, uh, um..." Troy snickered silently as pages went fluttering, obviously trying to find a scene that lacked certain touchy-feely aspects. Of course, there were no such scenes like that.
"Just start from the top."
"Oh, Phillipe--" he said rather woodenly.
"No, no, no!" Ryan reprimanded. "Look, it's just you and me in here. Nobody's going to think anything of it. Just get into character; pretend you're talking to a girl if you have to. I mean, if Troy Bolton can star in some measly musical, I think you can do this."
That seemed to weaken his resolve. Setting his face determinedly, Charlie looked Ryan dead in the eyes as he prepared to finish his line. Ryan flicked a finger inconspicuously against his leg, and Troy took it as his cue, pressing the red button on the camera.
"I know this is wrong, but it feels so right."
"It isn't right! Listen, I need you to stop following me around like this. My family's getting suspicious, people are starting to talk."
"So let them talk! I know how I feel about you, isn't that enough?"
"It can't be. This has to end."
"I don't want to lose you!"
"We can still be friends."
"But I don't want to be just your friend. I can't live with you so close to me, knowing I can't hold you. It will be torture."
"Then I guess this is goodbye. If you can't have part of me, you get none of me."
"Please, don't go," Xavier said desperately. He was surprisingly convincing.
"Look, I know what you and all your other little boyfriends are up to when you think no one's looking. I'm ending it now."
Troy grinned stupidly, pressing the red button once more and replacing the camcorder with a digital camera. Ryan then lunged forward, pressing his lips quickly to Duncan's.
He then cracked the closet door open a bit, snapped a picture, and shut the doors again before the boy realized what had been happening.
Throwing Ryan away from him he angrily shouted "What the hell was that?"
"It's in the script," was the only solace offered.
"I think I should wait for Sharpay downstairs."
"No need," Sharpay then came into the conversation, leaning against the doorframe. "Ryan, dad just called me. He said he's on his way to pick us up to see Aunt Mildred right now."
"Fantastic," Ryan mumbled sourly. "I'll wait for you outside."
"Well," Duncan said after the door closed, "this has been fun. Definitely worth me cancelling plans over."
"Sorry you couldn't stay longer. It's just, Aunt Mildred gets these delusions sometimes, pictures her husband still alive, and starts wandering through the streets. She's a menace."
"I guess I'll see you in school then."
"If you're not flanked by cronies, then yeah, sure."
She winked at him before opening the door and letting him pass through. Perhaps if he had been a little more observant he would have noticed Sharpay's Sidekick sitting on her desk, straight in view, or the fact that the home phone next to it had never rung either. Or maybe he would have noticed that Mr. Evans had walked down the hall almost immediately after Sharpay had taken him into her room, whistling some old tune and shuffling through documents.
"Did you get your money shot?" she asked, throwing open the closet doors.
Troy smiled wide, "Oh yeah."
Walking down the stairs, Troy spotted Noah seated at the kitchen island with a static-filled monitor in front of him. Hearing their impending footsteps he turned and, upon seeing them, burst into hysterics.
"Where's Ryan?" he asked once he could breathe again, "I really should commend him on his performance."
"Did someone say my name?" Ryan said, coming out of the shadows and jumping over the last three steps, with what seemed like a permanent grin etched onto his face.
"Personally," Sharpay said, "I wouldn't trust those lips within a mile of me. I do hope you'll wash up before you go pick up Gemmy dearest."
"Already done. But, now that you've mentioned it, I really should get going. I'll see you guys tomorrow at school, for a very interesting day."
And with a wink he was out the door.
"Yeah, and I'd love to hang out with you losers all night, but I've gotta go practice my lines otherwise Kelsi will be pissed tomorrow."
"Too bad Charlie left. He seems to be really good at that."
"Yes, it really is a shame. 'Night Noah, 'night Troy."
Then the two of them were the only ones left in the kitchen, Noah sitting in a high stool and Troy standing somewhat uncomfortably.
"You could come over for awhile if you want," Troy offered. "It's still pretty early."
"Thanks, but it'd be good to take some me-time... work on the novel. Tonight would make a good chapter."
Troy laughed, "Yeah, it would."
"I wouldn't pass up a ride home though."
xxx
Just as Charlie began walking away, the two TV screens -- which were usually reserved for the morning announcements and random messages throughout the day -- came to life and began playing a very familiar scene about two boys, named Phillipe and Xavier, sitting on a purple duvet cover. Laughter echoed through the hallway and dozens of fingers pointed at the boy running towards the gym.
"We do good work," Sharpay said in Troy's ear, suddenly behind him.
He turned towards her and smiled, "That we do."
Brownie points to whoever can guess what movie inspired certain aspects of the revenge plan!
chapter title/lyrics credit: a wolf in sheep's clothing - this providence