author's note on bottom! enjoy the chapter!

WARNING: some major cussing in this chapter, but not much. also, chad does some pretty bad things .. i won't say no more. READ!

Chapter Ten – Fake Smiles and White Pills

"Well, Miss McKessie," said Doctor Herman, scratching the exterior of his chin, "it seems that you and the baby are doing just fine. You're about one month along, and the process is slow. But guess what, the baby has already formed half his body and—and legs!"

Taylor just sat there at the examination table, clutching her stomach, amazed. Her baby had legs. She—or he—was growing, forming like a real child. A baby. She'd only just realized it now.

She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "Um, wait, Dr. Herman, did you say his body? Is it a boy?" she asked, her voice growing louder.

Dr. Herman smiled and shook his head. "No, we don't know that yet, Taylor. We'll find that out perhaps when the baby's about three, four months along. I can't say now."

Taylor seemed disappointed—if she was actually going to have this baby, she wanted it to be a girl. A happy, fun-loving baby girl that she could love and raise and take care of all on her own. The previous night she'd made up a long list of girl names: Patricia, Christina, Monica, and Rachel were just a few names on the list. She was really leaning on Elizabeth, though.

Suddenly she had a thought. What if Chad didn't like those names? What if he wanted something else, like Camille or Danica? What if he disagreed? All these questions started popping up in her mind that she became frightened. She hadn't even told him yet!

Dr. Herman was looking at her curiously. "Taylor, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"What? Oh—yes, Dr. Herman, I'm fine," Taylor lied hastily. She was breathing hard, for some reason, and her stomach hurt. "It's just…you know, stress with the baby, and all."

The doctor rested a hand on her shoulder, and Taylor felt her posture stiffen. "You know, Miss McKessie, you do realize you are quite young," he said quietly.

This only made Taylor feel even worse. "Yes," she said in a meek voice, "I know."

"Your parents." Dr. Herman was speaking quite suddenly, his voice softening. "Do they know about this?" He looked down on his patient.

Taylor's eyes were brimming with tears. There was no denying it now. "No, Dr. Herman, they don't."

She half-expected him to call her parents up and tell them, but to her surprise, he didn't. Instead he just sighed, shook his head, and said calmly, "I understand how hard it is to be pregnant at your age, Miss McKessie. I have a niece who got pregnant at the age of 16." His voice was solemn.

Taylor looked at him, stunned. "Really?" she gaped. "Sixteen?"

"Yep. She was about ready to do an abortion too, but that wasn't right. So she had her baby, pulled through, and the child turned out beautiful. They named her Lucille, after her grandmother."

"Wow," said Taylor, impressed.

"Yeah." Dr. Herman smiled. "It's great, isn't it?"

They sat in silence for a while, and Taylor wondered what it felt like to be a mother. She knew it would come with a lot of responsibility and hard work. She planned to ask her own mother later.

After the checkup, she drove home in her old Mitsubishi, cranking up tunes from 107.3—the new Hits local community radio station. She didn't really feel like going home. It was only 6:37; the night was young. But where to go.

She decided to let her car take her wherever it did. She turned left and right and then left again, not even knowing where she was headed. She drove and drove and drove, until she was well out of the city and into the warm New Mexican desert, the empty road stretching out for miles in front of her.

Finally, Taylor stopped, cutting the engine short. She'd parked in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the low desert hills and tall cactus plants. The lights of the city were behind her, lighting up the sky. A coyote howled from somewhere. And suddenly Taylor didn't feel alone.

I'm never alone, she realized, bending down to pat her growing stomach. I'll always have Elizabeth with me. Satisfied, she smiled at that, turned the keys to the ignition, and began the long journey home.

---

That night, Zeke was busy with two English essays that he had no time to bake something for Sharpay, like he'd originally planned. Luckily his mom made them something, and even though she wasn't a great cook, Ryan and Sharpay seemed to love it. They sat at the dinner table with steaming plates of warm—and slightly over-cooked, Zeke noticed—fettuccini alfredo. They were doing Italian tonight.

Ryan licked his lips hungrily. "Seriously," he said, "this is way better than a four-star restaurant!"

Zeke's mother laughed nervously. She glanced over at Zeke. "Is it?" she asked him.

"Yeah, Mom," Zeke admitted truthfully, not wanting to say it tasted bad—which it didn't. He smiled at her and said again, "Yeah, it's great."

She beamed at that. "Of course, not as good as my son's cookies and crème brulees," she said, her voice swelling with pride and admiration. Zeke turned crimson and tried not to look at Sharpay, who was admittedly doing the same.

The four of them—Zeke's dad was still at work on a new reality cooking television show—ate their dinner happily, engaging in hearty, family-style conversations that involved school, movies, television shows, and some politics. And then, to Zeke's horror, his mother turned to Sharpay and asked, "So, Miss Evans, how is it with your house? Did the police find out the little prankster yet?"

Zeke was about to open his mouth in protest, tell Sharpay she didn't have to answer, but to his surprise, she opened her mouth and began to speak, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, putting down her glass of water, "Ryan and I got a call from Officer Delano last night, and…well, they have a main suspect on who may have started the fire."

Stunned, Zeke nearly choked on his fettuccini. "They do?" he asked.

Sharpay nodded. "Yeah…and they think it's…" She trailed off, glancing uneasily at her brother. Ryan sighed and shook his head, looking down at his half-empty plate.

"They think it was Troy Bolton," said the two siblings in unison.

Zeke dropped his fork on his plate with a clatter. He could not believe this.

"Troy?" he choked out.

Sharpay nodded, sighing, and then leaned back on her chair, folding her hands in her lap. She was bright red. "Yeah, um, I don't know…it's really stupid; why would Troy do that? But they really think it's him, they really believe…"

Again Ryan, who was twiddling with his fork, interrupted her. "See, we think he got framed," he explained to Zeke and his mom. "They found his jacket near the place where the fire started, with his school ID in it and everything. Also"—he shook his head sadly—"a lighter."

For a moment Zeke was confused. "Why would Troy keep a lighter in his pocket?" he asked.

"Hell, like I know."

Sharpay frowned. "How can you start a fire with a lighter?" she crooned angrily. "I mean, it'll only send out a tiny flame, wouldn't it?" Furious, she stamped her foot. She was finding it hard to believe that Troy Bolton could have set her house on fire.

Ryan merely shrugged and rested his elbows on the table. "I'm just glad Pepsi made it out okay," he said randomly. His sister scowled at him.

They continued their dinner in silence, thinking. Zeke knew it wasn't Troy—it couldn't be Troy. But still…he had just taken off during the party without warning. Maybe he'd burned the house and then fled. It was possible—but not Troy-like. What reason would he have? Zeke always thought his friend was fond of Ryan and Sharpay Evans; he'd done a musical with them.

Finally they went up to bed, minds still whirring. This time Sharpay didn't even say anything to Zeke as she slowly made her way up the stairs before retreating to her room. Zeke was disappointed. Sharpay could see the hurt in his eyes, and she desperately wanted to hug it all out, make the pain go away. She knew it was a bit much to tell him that it was possible that his friend Troy could end up in jail.

But no, she reasoned, it wasn't possible. Troy would never do such a thing.

---

Chad Danforth was shocked when he'd heard—from Jason, who heard from Jamie the cheerleader—about Gabriella's accident. His jaw dropped in astonishment. It was no wonder she hadn't been at their practices, cheering them on! So she'd been lying unconscious in the hospital all along.

He was livid. Why didn't Troy tell him? Why'd he have to go off and keep it a secret from everyone? And for weeks too! Chad thought he was Troy's "most loyal best friend". He was angry at Troy for keeping it in all this time.

"Ah, I don't know," Jason was saying as he told Chad the shocking news. "It just bugs me why Troy didn't tell anyone, not even us, his team. I mean, god, he didn't even tell you, right? Did he?"

Again Chad shook his head. "No, Jason," he said evenly. "He did not."

Jason sighed and shook his head. He stared down at the gym floor where they were having yet another basketball practice. "Poor Gabriella," he murmured into the air. He'd liked Gabriella for a while, and then gave up, knowing Troy was the perfect guy for her. Now he was just waiting for the Right Person. And frankly, he knew she could be anywhere.

The two boys were silent until Coach Bolton called the whole team forward, his face looking grim. The team silently obeyed and made their way slowly, unenthusiastically, over to the bleachers.

Coach Bolton ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Okay," he said loudly, "I know you're all pretty mad at Troy for not telling anyone about…you know. In fact, he didn't even tell me until a few days after the little calamity. He calmly explained to me why he couldn't make some practices if he had another, more important commitment…Gabriella, his girlfriend, and her life. You all understand that, don't you?"

No one said anything, just stared blankly at the gym floor.

Coach sighed. "Well, whatever. We won't worry about that now. We gotta stay focused, people. The championships are just weeks away, and if we want to see another gleaming golden trophy in my office…ah." He shuddered delightfully, imagining his team holding the trophy and yelling with joy, just as they had done the previous year.

After Mr. Bolton's little pep talk, the team did more shooting and dribbling drills. Practice, as usual, seemed way different without Troy bossing them around. No yelling, no, "What team? Wildcats! What team? Wildcats! Wildcats—Get 'cha head in the game!" cheers. Chad just didn't have the heart. He was kind of pissed at Troy too.

When practice was over, everyone went home with a heavy heart, still chatting about the rumors they'd heard about Gabriella's accident. Chad, Jason, and Zeke drove to the nearest Mickey D's (who calls it McDonald's?) for BigMacs and fries. It felt somewhat emptier without Troy and Gabriella, who usually tagged along on these little hangouts.

Later, the boys were sitting at an empty table near the back of the restaurant, munching on burgers and drinks in a rather awkward silence. With Troy and Gabriella around, they were usually pretty loud, but today they had nothing to talk about.

Finally Jason broke the silence. "You know, I think he should've said something," he remarked thoughtfully, dipping a French fry into the tiny packet of sweet and sour sauce.

Zeke looked up. "Who, Troy?"

"Yeah."

"I think he's pretty fucked up for not telling us in the first place," Chad said bitterly.

There was another short pause, and then Jason glanced over at Chad, who was sitting at the very edge of his seat, fuming with anger. Wow, he thought, Chad must be really pissed. "Well it's not really his fault, you know. It's not easy telling people this kind of stuff—"

Chad glared at him. "What kind of stuff, Jason!" he cried. "What's so hard about not telling us, his best friends!"

A few people sitting at other tables shot him annoyed looks. "Quiet down, kid," someone said.

As usual, Chad ignored them by swearing out loud and then standing up suddenly, yanking his chair back in frustration. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled out of the restaurant, leaving his food on the table. Zeke and Jason stared after him in astonishment.

Finally Zeke said, "Chad's got anger issues."

"Yeah!" agreed Jason, taking a sip of Diet Coke. "Did you hear what he did to Taylor?"

"Taylor McKessie?"

Jason nodded eagerly. "Yeah. Taylor went up to me in fifth period and purposely asked how Chad was doing, then I asked why, and she told me everything…" He started to explain what had happened that day when the double doors swung open, letting in a gust of bright sunlight and air. Zeke looked up to see who had entered.

It was Ryan and Sharpay Evans.

Oh, God. His mind started to race, his heartbeat getting faster and faster at the sight of beautiful, blonde Sharpay. Jason looked at him. "Zeke…?" Then he saw Sharpay and grinned.

Luckily the pair didn't notice Zeke and Jason sitting alone at their table and arguing over burgers. Instead, they went up to the cashier and Ryan ordered. Sharpay was pouting, her face turning furiously red as she said something aloud to her brother. Zeke secretly thought she looked beautiful when she was mad.

"Dude, you gonna ask her out anytime soon?" Jason inquired, nudging him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, I…I will." Suddenly Zeke blurted, "She likes me."

"What?"

And Zeke just smiled. Meanwhile at the counter, Sharpay felt an odd twinge in her stomach; the familiar "Zeke's here" feeling. He had to be here; she could feel it in her heart. Out of the corner of her eye she scanned the restaurant as Ryan ordered a box of 10-piece chicken nuggets—and a Happy Meal for himself—and that's when she saw him, smiling. She knew that smile anywhere, and for some reason, it made her heart start beating faster and faster that it would burst with happiness.

Instead, she pretended to not notice him as she stood there, pouting, while inside she was breaking to pieces.

They got their food and left; Sharpay trying desperately not to look back at Zeke. But she stole a glance anyway. Zeke was grinning, chatting it up with Jason, another basketball drone from the team. His face was blushing red, and Sharpay admitted to herself that she liked it.

Chad, in the meantime, was outside sulking. He'd realized he not only was pissed at Troy, but at the world too. He was pissed at himself for leaving Taylor when he knew he still loved her. He was pissed at his family for being so protective and pushy with him. He was pissed at the drunk driver who'd hit Gabriella that stormy night. He was pissed at Coach Bolton for making the team practice harder than ever this year. He was pissed at…well, everything.

A gangly-looking guy wearing extremely tattered jeans came along, swinging his keys in his pocket. The guy took one look at Chad and said, "Hey kid, you want some…?"

For a moment Chad just looked at him. The guy trotted over to him, limping, like he'd been hurt in a major accident. He smiled, showing yellow teeth, and pulled a small bag of white pills from his pocket. He thrust them into Chad's hands, which were shaking.

"You look terrible," he said with a grin. "Take it. It's yours."

"Uh." Chad just stared at the bag, wondering what the pills tasted like.

"Just take it, kid. You look like you need something in ya." The guy stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away on the empty sidewalk. Chad stared after him, and then peeked down at the bag once more, wondering.

What the hell, he thought; ripping it open and thrusting a few white pills in his hand. It won't hurt to try one. He popped them into his mouth.

Suddenly he heard the doors open, and to his surprise, out came Ryan and Sharpay, holding McDonalds bags and arguing like normal people. For some weird reason, Sharpay had a big smile on her face and for once in her life didn't look so much like the Ice Queen. Ryan, well, still looked like Ryan, in a red shirt from Journey's and matching hat. They fast-walked down the parking lot and were about to get into Ryan's rental car—he'd finally saved enough money to get one, which meant no more rides from Zeke.

And then Chad called out, "Sharpay! Ryan!"

They spun around, wondering who yelled their names. Chad went waddling over to them, a big loopy smile on his face.

"Hey," he said, waving.

"Um…hi," said Sharpay, staring at him with malevolent eyes. "Do we know you?"

Chad laughed, for once. He felt silly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm Chad Danforth. From the basketball team, y'know?" He grinned. Sharpay kept glaring at him.

Finally Ryan broke the silence, saying loudly, "Oh, I remember you! You're Troy's friend, right?"

"Troy? HAHA. Who cares about Troy?" babbled Chad, who was practically yelling at them. "Troy Bolton's a dickhead. HAHA, dickhead. Get it? Ha ha ha. Hey Sharpay, I think you're pretty. You know that? Yeah, I think you're beautiful. You wanna go out sometime, babe?"

Sharpay's face grew red, and then she suddenly struck him hard on the face. Chad just stood there, gaping at her while she screamed, "Are you drunk! Are you taking drugs, asshole!" She was so furious, there were tears rolling down the sides of her face. Ryan, being the protective brother, shielded her in some sort of man-hug. Chad just stood glaring at them. He seemed to snap out of his craziness.

Instead, he simply walked away while Sharpay lay in her brother's arms, sobbing. His face was throbbing red, yet he didn't feel any pain at all. Man, did that Sharpay know how to slap.

He kept walking, alone, down the sidewalk and out of the McDonalds parking lot. He felt bad for what he did to Sharpay and Ryan. Now he knew they would never talk to him again. Whatever, it wasn't like he cared.

He stopped and stuffed his hand in the pocket of his jeans. He felt the white pills inside—their rounded, oval-shaped surfaces and interesting taste. He wanted more. But he knew he would have to wait.

"Chad!"

Hearing his name, Chad suddenly jerked his head backward and began running. He ran back in the direction of the McDonalds restaurant, his feet pounding on the sidewalk, when he bumped head-on to a person walking by.

Ow, thought Chad painfully, moaning and gripping his forehead. He looked up, and the person he'd knocked into scowled at him. It was a woman, probably a few years older than him, with light brown hair and eyes that sparkled. Her face was pale and her arms and legs were as stick-skinny. She looked like a walking, talking, living pole. She was so small and so incredibly thin.

For a moment Chad just stared at her as if she was an exhibit at the museum. The girl stared back before finally spitting out, "Maybe you should watch where you're going, punk."

"Well maybe you shouldn't walk in other people's way."

"Get a life, asshole," replied the girl simply. She looked like she was enjoying this. "And what happened to your face? It's all red."

Chad chose to ignore this, stuffed his hands in his pockets and said bitterly, "Get a therapist, you anorexic freak." Whoops. He hadn't meant to say that.

The girl stared at him, eyes wide. Then, to his horror, they started filling with hurtful tears.

"No, wait, I didn't mean to—"

She looked up, her whole body shaking violently, like she was about to faint. "Do I…do I really look anorexic to you?" she whispered, her voice cracking slightly.

Chad didn't want to say anything more, afraid he might hurt the girl's feelings, but he knew she was expecting an answer. So he sighed, rubbed the back of his head and said quietly, "Well, I assumed you were. Look at the size of you." He motioned to a nearby shop window, where their faces and bodies were shown in reflection, staring eerily back at them.

The girl put a hand to her pale face and stared unwillingly at her reflection in the window. She was skinny, way too skinny. Skinnier than she had intended.

Realizing this, she sank to her knees and started to cry.

Chad bent down to comfort her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Shh, shh, it's okay. I didn't mean to offend you," he said soothingly. "Maybe you should…I don't know, see a therapist. They can help you get over your um…your…"

"My eating disorder," finished the girl for him, standing up and wiping her tears quickly.

"Yeah." He forcefully stuck out a hand. "Um. I'm Chad."

The girl smiled tearfully, sadly. "Karyanne," she replied in a quiet voice, taking Chad's hand and shaking it. "And how old are you, Chad?"

"Seventeen."

Karyanne nodded. "Ah. I'm 22. Pretty old, huh?" She laughed weakly. Chad managed a smile.

They sat down on a bench that was supposedly one of the local bus stops. Karyanne sighed ruefully. "My parents already had this serious talk with me," she explained quietly, "about my eating problem. Because my goody-two-shoes perfect little sister told them. I've only stopped eating because…god, I've never told this to anyone before, and here I am, ranting on and on to a complete stranger." She smiled.

Chad laughed nervously. "No, it's okay. Tell me," he said.

"Well, I'm getting married, you see," continued Karyanne with a sigh. "To my hopelessly romantic, perfect, wonderful boyfriend Steve. God, how I love him. The wedding is in like a month, and everything's been so stressful. My parents are being such freaks. My mom follows me around everywhere. My sister's been supportive, but ratting my problem out to my parents wasn't helpful. Anyway, I've found like, this perfect wedding dress. It's only about 1000 dollars, but I can afford it. Problem is, they only have it in one size—extra-small." She gulped, pausing for dramatic effect. "And I'm like, a freaking large."

The rest of the story, Chad already knew. "Let me guess—you're trying to lose weight in order to fit in that dress, right?" he asked.

"Precisely." Karyanne couldn't help but smile. "Well, what else am I supposed to do! God, it's the perfect dress. And if they ordered another one for me in a different size, it would cost like 500 dollars more." She sighed remorsefully. "But now I know that I've…god, look at me. I'm like a walking stick. I'm like way too skinny now; I'd probably slip through the dress. I just keep thinking that it's not enough, you know? Like I need to keep losing weight or else I won't fit in the dress."

Chad nodded, understanding. "Yeah. It's hard when you want to be just perfect for the thing you love and want most, and you keep trying and trying until…well, you realize you'd been doing it all wrong. That you let go for no reason." He didn't even know what he was saying. The words just poured out of his mouth. But, oddly, he understood them.

For a moment Karyanne just looked at him, surprised. "Wow. You are smart," she finally said.

"Hah." Chad laughed, a real laugh that he hadn't experienced for ages. "Not exactly. If I were smart, I wouldn't have done what I did weeks ago."

"And what was that?"

"I hurt the one person I love most," Chad admitted quietly, "without even knowing it."

---

author's note: well there ya have it ! i know this chapter wasn't much, i'm sorry. i only got ONE review since the last chapter. i think that's sort of disappointing .. it makes me feel like people don't read or even enjoy the story.but i stillwant to continue because i'm that nice. so please? review? for me? make me want to update. xD