Hollerr.

I hooked a diamond chandelier earring into my earlobe with nervous hands. As the sun fell beneath the horizon and brought forth an orange sky outside of my window, anticipation swiftly crept through my system.

Pre-party jitters.

I rolled my eyes at myself, at how ridiculous and superficial I was being. Only two weeks before, I had thought the entire idea of a semi-formal was beyond stupid. However, now I found myself dusting my cheeks with bronzer. Fidgeting with the blonde waves I had set in my hair. Shellacking my lips with rosy gloss.

I blinked once at myself in the mirror as a new girl emerged from beneath the mascara. I almost saw a girl who lived life like a second grader. Who simply didn't care what others thought and chose to be carefree. But then I blinked again. Saw a teenage girl who had been dumped by her date and had been forced to work toward one special night with the Queen of Bitches...

A light knock came at my bedroom door and my mother invited herself into my room. "Sharrr..." she sang, her show business smile coming to her young-but-old face. A hot pink dress carrier was hooked to her wrist. "It's here," she said.

My mother had insisted on choosing a dress for me without any of my consent. She claimed she wanted me to be completely surprised with what she had selected. I turned away from the mirror in time to watch her unzip the carrier and gently pull the dress out by its hanger.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think my mother had some sort of fashion sense. A warmth and excitement tickled each of my nerves as she displayed the dress on my bed. I gasped and my long-lashed eyes widened. "Mother," I breathed. "It's... gorgeous."

The sparkling emerald green dress had a strapless form-fitting torso dotted with a flawless rhinestone finish. The bodice simply swam into a flouncy petticoated skirt that I predicted would fall around my knees. I was hesitant that the dress would accentuate the cleavage that didn't need accentuating, but aside from that minor setback, I was quickly tearing off my shorts and t-shirt.

The fabric of the dress felt deliciously right as I shimmied into it, zipped it up, looked at myself in the mirror. I felt like the final puzzle piece. Like the stars had finally aligned. I felt charged with a new found confidence.

"Look at you, muffin," my mother gasped at my reflection. "You are a vision in emerald."

I sucked in a breath and swiftly let it out. I blinked once at myself as a new girl fully emerged, fully shined. Despite how ruined things had been for me, I was given one chance to be a different person, if only for four hours. The beautiful dress I wore ensured that.

I turned away from the mirror, grinning like a complete maniac. "Bridgett Oliver and I have a few things to get in order before the dance starts," I explained. "I'm ready."

And for once, the words meant something outside of myself.

--

Bridgett Oliver was expecting me at 8 o'clock.

Unfortunately, my mother insisted that a movie star like myself should arrive fashionably late. It was 8:30 when my mother dropped Ryan and me in front of the school. Cars in the parking lot were sparse and most likely belonged to chaperons and teachers. Golden Christmas lights were strung from every available ledge, edge, corner, and cranny. An elegant French piece of music seemed to lazily hang in the night air.

Ryan took my arm and we took on the entrance together. We made a fabulous pair- Ryan in his emerald silk shirt and black pants. Me in the dress.The main hallway was dim and a few students strolled in front of us to the gym. The journey was silent but I could feel my hands trembling with pre-party jitters again.

As we came closer to the wide open gymnasium doors, the French piece melted away into a song with a grimy, underground beat. From where we stood, ecstatic, fun, gyrating faces became clear. Ryan brought us to a halt a few meters away. He turned to me, sincerity pooling in his eyes.

"Shar," he said. "Jason or no Jason, you look amazing tonight and any guy that would turn you down is a complete idiot."

That warmth returned to all of my nerve endings. After Jason had informed me that he no longer wanted to go to the semi with me, we had gradually grown further and further apart. But Ryan's small encouraging speech had eliminated any form of sadness I had had prior to that very moment.

"Thanks, Ry," I smiled. We took a few more confident steps to the doors of the gymnasium. My brother and I were equally taken aback by the transformation of the gym.

The backdrop of the evening was a looming, glittering Eiffel tower. Violet and green strobe lights snatched at every single one of my classmates. A never-ending buffet-table held French and party cuisine alike. There was an unexplainable air to the entire room. As much as I hated to, I had to hand it to Bridgett Oliver for pulling such a masterpiece together without a lot of my help...

"There you are!"

Speak of the devil.

Somewhere in my mystified mind, Bridgett Oliver had appeared, storming toward my brother and me in beautiful fury. She continued her rant. "You're thirty minutes late! I told you to be here at 8 o'clock so you could help greet people and hand out raffle tickets, but no! You decide to be an entire half hour late to the most important night of my-" Bridgett Oliver's fierce eyes cut to my dress then back to my face, fire in her features. "What. Are. You. Wearing?" she snarled.

I gave her a perplexed look before glancing down at myself. I cast my eyes to her dress and choked on my heart. Bridgett Oliver gave ravishing a new definition in her emerald green dress. It had a tight strapless bodice with a rhinestone finish. Her skirt had a familiar petticoat flounce to it. My mouth went dry and I had the sudden urge to refresh my lip gloss and vomit on Bridgett Oliver's shoes all at the same time.

"I think it's time for me to go," Ryan mumbled before dashing into the gymnasium.

My mouth tried to concoct some sort of a response. "B-Bridgett Oliver, I... I am so..."

"Save it," she snapped. She flashed a look of pain before conforming to her fixed look of haughtiness. "I look better in this dress anyways." She stuck out her chest a bit to draw attention to the heart shape the dress made. I knew better than to argue with her.

Just then, Chad Danforth and eleven other basketball players sauntered down the hallway to the gym. They wore a rainbow of ties and smelled like a variety of different hair gels. "Evening, ladies," Chad grinned. "I'm loving the twin thing you've got going on." His friends laughed and Bridgett Oliver crossed her arms over her rhinestone chest with a huff. "Especially you, Sharpay," he grinned again and gave a smooth wink to the slight cleavage that nudged out of my dress. I crossed my arms over my chest as well. In a self-conscious way.

"Is Troy here?" Bridgett Oliver sighed and delicately brushed her side bangs away from her eyes. She wore her chestnut hair in a French chignon and her golden skin glowed with an evil tone.

"He's waiting out back for you," Chad hissed before leading his cohorts into the party. "Do me a favor and save me a dance, alright, Sharpay?" I merely rolled my eyes. Chad Danforth was not as suave as he thought he was.

I looked back to Bridgett Oliver to see her smoothing out the skirt of her dress and fussing over her hair. "Stay here," she said firmly. "Make sure everyone gets a raffle ticket and make sure you don't leave."

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Like it's any of your business."

"But we have a job to do!"

"I've already done my job," Bridgett Oliver barked as she took off down a dark hallway to the back doors of the school. "Now, my job is to have fun."

The music in the gym pulsed the smell of fun wafted out to the main doors where I was forced to stay, where I no longer felt like a movie star.

--

The time ticked closer to 9 o'clock and I sat on the hallway floor with my heels kicked off. The number of students that were arriving had trickled into nothing. I yawned in the dim hallway, but my soul still bounced with an ounce of eagerness to finally enter the dance.

I had watched Bridgett Oliver tug Troy Bolton into the gym. He looked like his usual messy casually cute self in black jeans and a striped dress shirt. There was a way he glanced at me. There was an anxiety in his expressions that gave me the sense that Troy Bolton was most definitely hiding things...

The sound of sneakers squeaking against tile caught my attention and I looked up the main hallway to see a familiar dark head angled towards the ground. It didn't take long for me to realize it was Jason, and it didn't take long for me to scramble off of the floor and it didn't take long for Jason to spot me. "Sharpay!" he called after me desperately.

My feet rocketed me right into the gymnasium, where I easily got lost in the throngs of people- students, teachers, and chaperones. There was plenty of darkness and plenty of inappropriate dancing that helped me easily blend in.

My mind pulsed one thought after another. Why Jason hadn't spoken a word to me since the day he dumped me. Why he suddenly seemed ready to apologize. Why I was running away...

The strobe lights fizzled into a soft lavender color and swung rhythmically on the ceiling. The thumping song that had been playing melted away and a soothing slow song emerged. I found myself amidst one million couples, linking together and carelessly dancing. I felt a violent tug at my waist and swung around to yell at the meat head who had violated me, but I went stumbling into familiar arms.

I slighted my chin to see Jason Cross. He held me by the shoulders and I shrugged to be free of his grasp. His hands burned. It was a touch I had been longing for, but I suddenly found myself unprepared. I wanted to turn around and get lost again, but my feet wouldn't budge. "Let me apologize," Jason said simply.

I swallowed and he continued.

"I know tonight was really important to you. And I know dropping you like that was unexpected and really...mean," he said. A bitter smile came to his face and he gingerly touched his jaw. "But when Troy punched me like that, I... I felt something."

I spat words before remembering I was supposed to be upset with Jason. "Are you trying to tell me that you're gay?"

"What?! No! I didn't feel like that, I..." his eyes found mine and we exchanged a knowing thought. We both smiled. As Jason Cross' hands rested comfortably at my waist and as my arms circled his shoulders and as we swayed slightly to music, an unspoken settlement kissed both of us on the foreheads and left us to enjoy each other.

I rested the side of my face against his chest and his heartbeat explained it all: We were best as friends. Despite the accumulating feelings I had had for Jason Cross, our friendship would surpass it all...

Jason leaned down to whisper something into my ear. "When Troy punched me, he knocked some sense into me," Jason explained. "I felt...I felt like I was standing in the way."

"Standing in the way of what?"

He gave a chuckle. "Uh, Shar, it's kind of obvious."

"Huh?"

"I felt like I was standing in the way of you two. I dunno, I think I was trying to protect myself as well. It would hurt too much to bring you to the dance, knowing that I wasn't the guy you actually wanted to be with."

I pulled myself away from Jason Cross and looked directly into his eyes. I attempted to gather effective words, words that would get my entire point across. "There is nothing going on between Troy Bolton and me. I got over him a long time ago. After I met you." Truth tugged at my conscience. Jason Cross was wrong. Jason Cross was also right in ways I feared to comprehend. Troy Bolton had become an inevitable subject to me. I feared stepping back into the void where all I was worth was heartache.

Jason gave another mysterious smile. "Don't try to convince me," he said. His grip on me loosened and he took me by the shoulders again to gently guide me in a circle.

There behind me, stood a frazzled Troy Bolton. I didn't know what to make of what swam in his eyes- anger? Regret? Remorse? The music in my ears panned out into nothing as he stepped closer to me.

"Troy? Troy! Where are you going?" Bridgett Oliver suddenly elbowed her way through crowds, falling in place two feet behind Troy. She waited for an answer. Her look of discomfort flushed a tickle into my intestines. But Troy ignored her, kept his eyes trained on me. I was seven years old again, tripping on the dazzle of Troy Bolton's blue eyes.

Suddenly, he spoke to me. "Do you like him?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

He gave a short shy and took one more step towards me. "Do you like him?"

"You mean Jason?"

Troy didn't nod or say anything, but there was a pleading look creased on his face.

My mouth opened and closed in an attempt to form words. But how was I supposed to answer a question like that? What brought along the entire ordeal anyway? For as long as I could remember, Troy Bolton spent his time avoiding me. All of a sudden, he was trying to strike up personal, sensitive conversation with me?

"Well? Do you?"

"I..."

The last time I had held hands with Troy Bolton was the day I had met him, seven years ago. He suddenly reached out for my clammy hand. He grasped my fingers with a ferocity I didn't know too well.

"Troy!" Bridgett Oliver tried again unsuccessfully. I glanced at her over Troy's shoulder to see her hard expression deteriorating into a genuine look of pain. Part of me wanted this to stop for her sake. But another part, the ancient part, didn't.

I wished I had the ability to move, but I was simply frozen, my eyes dizzying around his face. He was touching me and he was coming closer and I still hadn't answered his unanswerable question. "Do I like him? I... I..."

Troy Bolton's eyes fluttered shut.

Troy Bolton's eyes fluttered shut like he didn't care what I had to say anymore. Boldly, one of his hands cupped the side of my face and our noses brushed together. My body sprung alive with electricity and my conscience rewinded seven years into history.

A girl a boy a door.

Was this truly happening? The glorified kiss? The precious kiss I had buffed with excellence and waited and waited for was happening. I expected an irritating buzzing to go off in my ears and to jolt awake in my bed in a cold sweat, but no. No, I was closing my eyes as well and I was jumping off the bridge and diving into the light at the end of the tunnel...

Troy Bolton's lips only nudged mine before I ripped my face away from his. The mere soft touch of his lips sparked a realization for me that pounded into my lungs. I suddenly felt like I was drowning in the reality. Too much. Too soon. Bridgett Oliver's cries came pouring back into my ears. The slow music had transitioned into 'SexyBack'.

I looked to Troy with wide eyes. "I can't believe this," I whimpered more to myself than him. My eyes shifted from side to side to see several onlooking gossiping eyes. I ripped my hands out of Troy Bolton's.

And I found myself running.

OMG (Becky look at her butt...)

Hah, okay, yeah. That was climactic.

REVIEW! I mean, don't you want to know what has bitten Troy in the ass? Tomorrow's the last day of school and a review from you would be the perfect 'Happy Last Day of School' present, y'know.