-eyes wide-

Uuuuuuum…wow! So many reviews asking what happens to Troy! … heh…heh –guuuulp-

Almost last chapter.

The definite end will be next one.

Maybe we can reach 200 reviews by then? PLZ?? (A)

Disclaimer: After almost one year (shitt!!) of writing "High School Musical", I will say once more ¬¬ … I DON'T OWN IT. Though HSM3 rocked my socks x3 – it was fo'shizz cool. The songs made me go "YAY!" – "AWESOME!" – or, sickeningly, "AWWW!". DAMN TROYELLA OVERLOAD –ded– And

ZE at the start. LOL. –hairflickhairflick–

The World Changes and Rearranges

November 2015 And Others...

November 25th 2015, 11.30AM

"Mommy, Mommy!"

Sharpay Evans looked up to see her daughter run into the kitchen, practically bouncing, a grin lighting up her whole cherubic face, her eyes alive with glee.

"What is it, baby?" Sharpay asked, a small smile on her face.

"It's snowing!" the youngster practically sang, "Snowing!"

Sharpay kept smiling, despite it becoming slightly forced, "Snowing?"

"Yeah! Uncle Ryan says it's the first time in seven years."

"Yeah, it is," Sharpay mused, "Actually, the first time in about seven years and five days."

"The first time since 2008? November 20th 2008 – wait…"

Sharpay grimaced as her daughter mentally made the connections, and then she was staring back up at her mother, face stricken.

"The last time it snowed was when…he—?" she whimpered. Sharpay swallowed thickly.

"Never mind that, honey," she cooed, "It's been a long time."

The young girl nodded, her youthful glee returning, "Wanna come see the snow?"

Sharpay shook her head, "No thanks, hon. I'm more of a…summer person, really."

The youngster pouted. Sharpay couldn't help but giggle.

"You are so much like your father!"

She sighed, shaking her head.

"Why don't you go see if Shaun and Zoë want to play?"

November 21st 2008, 1.46AM

Sharpay Evans staggered into her dark bedroom, breathing shallowly and desperately as her whole body shook with sobs.

Ryan and Gabriella had taken Chad, Taylor, Zoë and Shaun into their house to leave her alone for the time being.

Sharpay wanted to feel sorry for them – Ryan's face, pale, and drawn, his eyes blank; Gabriella and Taylor, tears coursing down their cheeks as they clutched the confused children ; Chad, his eyes moist as he clenched his hands into fists, barely containing his grief – but she couldn't. She could only feel her own pain, anguish, loss, rage and infinite grief.

He was gone.

He was gone, he was gone, he was gone, he was gone.

The doctor's words flew around her mind in a tangled mess of syllables.

We worked hard…

…nothing we could do…

…too much blood loss…

I'm so sorry…

She bit back another furious sob and fell onto her bed – their bed -, giving in to the sadness as the sobs came uncontrollably.

Against her own will, she found herself running through what had happened…

Chad burst in on her hugging Troy's still body to herself.

After that, it was a bit of a blank for her until she got to the hospital. A nurse insisted on checking her over, as apparently she'd been lying unresponsive in the snow for a prolonged time. Sharpay had fought desperately against her helpful hands, wanting to go in with Troy, and finally had been released, only to meet the doctor and her friends in the corridor, full of the bad news that she had desperately wanted to believe was a lie.

After arguing, pleading and ignoring for over an hour, she had finally realised they weren't lying to her and had ran into the waiting room in floods of tears, only to catapult straight into Lisa and Jack Bolton's arms.

They had almost instantly realised that their beloved son was dead, and had cried with her, before deciding they should head up instead of grieving in the hospital car park.

Sharpay had insisted on being on her own…which is how she wound up lying on her bed, in a darkened room, sobbing and pummelling a pillow in rage.

"How could he leave me?!" she shrieked, muffled by the soft cushion which still smelt faintly of her partner's cologne.

After this fit carried on for an uncertain amount of time, Sharpay finally ceased moving, exhaustion weighing down on her like lead as she settled her head on the pillow, tears still silently gliding down her pallid cheeks, her eyes sliding shut.

Her dreams were filled with times of the past.

The fun they had in high school, before everything changed and got more complicated. When Sharpay was with Zeke, silently loving Troy while he waltzed around with Gabriella.

One of the most vivid images was when she found out she was pregnant.

"NO!!" her younger self shrieked, throwing the stick to the ground, "No, no, no, no, no, fucking NO!"

Gabriella sat on the bed, staring more calmly at her own pregnancy test, which too had the little pink plus symbol.

Sharpay was now pacing the room, running her hands so violently through her hair she was almost ripping it out.

"Sharpay," Gabriella whispered, choked up, "It'll…it'll be okay. Keep calm."

"It'll be okay?? IT'LL BE OKAY?? Like fuck it will!" Sharpay screamed, before picking up a chair and with a grunt throwing it out of Gabriella's balcony door, smashing the glass. Gabriella jumped off her bed and staggered back, eyes wide.

"Sharpay, I know you're emotional, but please, keep calm," the smaller girl begged, squeezing her friend's arm. Sharpay sighed and leaned into Gabriella's embrace, sobbing.

The images kept fast forwarding, through Zoë's birth, through their return. Every moment between her and Troy up until Taylor disappeared, every happy moment they shared.

When she woke up, eyelashes clumpy from her tears, sunlight was streaming through the window, and the clock said it was almost ten in the morning. Sharpay sat up, eyes wide and blinking, looking around the room – it looked so…normal, like it always had. Somehow, she'd expected the house to mourn the loss with her.

Just thinking about what had happen made Sharpay want to fall back onto the bed and cry until she was so dehydrated she'd die and join her Troy. For the first time since she discovered she was pregnant at 17, she wanted to die. She would be so much better if she just ceased to exist.

She couldn't get Troy's face out of her mind – as much as she wanted to picture him in the better times, every time she closed her eyes, she saw him lying on the snow, his eyes dull blue and half-shut, mouth ajar with a trickle of blood at the cornor, his cheeks as pale as the snow beside them.

"I want you to look in my bedside drawer, 'kay? Two things are in there…they're rightfully yours…"

Sharpay sat up suddenly, as his voice echoed eerily around her head. She had only just remembered that he said that.

Shakily, she slid out of bed and onto her knees, kneeling in front of Troy's bedside cabinet. Her hand shaking violently, she reached towards the doorknob and pulled the cupboard door open.

Inside, there was only a small bag from Tiffany's. Sharpay's moist eyes widened of their own accord – Troy never brought things from Tiffany's.

Sticking out of the blue bag was an envelope, which Sharpay pulled out first. Her name was written in a familiar messy scrawl on it, and she slowly ripped it open, unsure about what would be in it.

There was a single piece of paper, folded up inside, the writing on it especially small and neat to fit it all on.

"Dear Sharpay…"

It sounded all so formal considering the love of her life had written it to her!

"…Hmm. Oh boy; this isn't good! You reading this letter – I hoped you never would if I tell the truth. I hoped I'd still be around to get rid of it. Ah well!..."

…still be around to get rid of it? What did he mean by that?

"…well…okay, I am writing this about five minutes before we leave to find this 'Uncle Willy' guy who took Zoë. Remember? I said I just wanted to go to the bathroom, you screamed "OUR DAUGHTER IS MISSING AND YOU WANT TO PEE???", Dylan burst out laughing and that vein that means you're angry popped out on your forehead lol."

Sharpay smiled for the first time in hours as she remembered, touching her forehead self-consciously.

"...well, while I was (ahem) taking a pee, it occurred to me that I am an athlete. We are GOOD at getting easily pissed off – I'm gonna wind up fighting this dickhead, aren't I? The one who kidnapped Zoë, Dylan and Taylor? Haha, I know I am. And he's gonna kill me, I bet! I wonder if anyone in Heaven (or any other place I may wind up) would take that bet … meh, hopefully you'll draw even with him. Kick him where it hurts, honey :)."

Sharpay giggled through her wobbling lip, tears once again burning her eyes. Troy knew he was going to die – how he had such incentive she didn't know – but he did. And he was okay with it; light-hearted, even.

"…Look, I am only writing this in an attempt to make it easier for you! I know this may sound sliiiightly self obsessive, but I like to think you WOULD mourn me if I died or something. Anyway, I really don't want you to sit around thinking 'Troy's dead, my life is OVER.'. Please, move on, Shar. Despite everything that has happened, everything that we've been through, we've always stuck through it and made it to the other side. I love you like I have never loved anyone else – you're the first thing I think about, the last thing I think about, the mother of my children and the woman I did wrong by by not marrying you as soon as possible. Everytime we were out and someone asks 'How long have you been married?' and you say 'Oh, we're not.', it nearly killed me. I should've married you after Shaun was born, or when Ryan and Gabby got married, or as soon as you returned to me; cos I've been in love with you since I was 17 years old, Sharpay Evans – I was just too much of a thickheaded dumbass teenage boy to realize it.

In the bag, you'll find something I've been meaning to give you – I should've given it to you earlier, but whatever. As long as you get it; and I want you to know I'll always be with you, Shar. I love you – and always will – more than words can say. I love you and our kids so much, I can't even think of words to describe it; it's so big I can't comprehend it!"

Sharpay traced the words gently, feeling tears he'd clearly wept as he wrote his heart on the paper; he'd been so prepared to die for his family's honor that he'd done all this before.

"…And…I guess that's all I can say, Sharpay. I love you, so much. And I'm sorry if you are reading this; truly, I am. So so sorry that I've left you. Tell Zoë and Shaun that their daddy adores them, and always will.

I love you, Sharpay Evans.

Your Troy xxx"

Sharpay swallowed thickly, her vision so clouded with tears that she could barely see the paper as she let it float to the floor. Hand trembling, she took up the bag and opened it, pulling out a tiny, velvet black box.

Her heart literally skipped two beats when she saw it. A tiny black box, like she'd always dreamed of, sitting in the palm of her shaking hand.

She gently lifted the lift.

The first thing that caught her attention was the gold swirly calligraphy on the white satin inside the lid, reading For the Love of my Life.

The next thing was, nestled in the box and gleaming away at her, a ring.

A sparkling diamond blinked up at her, nestled bang in the middle of a gold band, tiny little rubies and crystals beside it going the rest of the way around the main body of the ring. Sharpay inhaled sharply, hand clapping to her mouth as she stared at the engagement ring.

He was going to propose.

Finally, Sharpay couldn't contain her tears any longer; they flooded down her cheeks in torrents as the box fell to the floor and her hands came up to her face.

TroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroyTroy…

His name whirled around her head, his face smiling, and her heart nearly burst with her love for him.

She didn't want to live! She couldn't live while he wasn't here.

She leapt to her feet, suddenly full of energy, and ran to the bathroom, nearly stumbling over the toilet. She groped around the bathroom for a moment, before finally finding her desire; Troy's razor.

It kinda made sense – her own life stopped short by her own hand, but with his blade.

She poised it over her wrist, ready to end herself, climb up that long dark tunnel into the light and be with him again – she needed him.

Tears continued to drip down her face as she stared at her hands, one shaking and the other firmly gripping the lethal object.

And she just stopped.

As much as she didn't want to live, something inside her screamed not to do it. Her whole body tensed up; she needed to be alive for something.

There's always something worth living for, Sharpay.

The little voice in her mind sounded remarkably like Troy; in fact, maybe it was his voice.

But it was right. She did have something.

She had two beautiful children – her last connections to Troy.

Her friends – they would support her.

And Troy. He had wanted her to move on; live her life.

The razor clunked to the bathroom floor as Sharpay dazedly made her way out to the main room, swaying as she knelt down and picked up the ring, which had bounced out of its box and was sparkling on the carpet. She inspected it casually; it was beautiful. Just the sort of thing Troy would pick out. Giving a small, trembling smile, she slipped it onto her ring finger.

It fit perfectly.

January 4th 2009, 9.30PM

"How could this happen?" Chad Danforth bellowed, pacing around the Bolton's living room.

Since Troy's death, the Danforth's had been staying with Sharpay – obviously due to the fact that their home had been burnt down. The house was in the process of being rebuilt, but Chad was showing a certain reluctance to staying away from Sharpay's family; he wanted to be as close to the last bit of the late Troy Bolton as possible.

The fire in the fireplace was burning readily; although the weather began to get slightly better in January, it was colder than usual. Chad's wife Taylor sat curled up on the sofa, tears streaking down her face as her harsh gaze directed straight at Chad.

Sharpay Evans kneeled by the fire, the flames illuminating her blonde locks and content face – since losing Troy, she had been surprisingly mellow; she knew that Troy would still be with her. On her ring finger, a familiar diamond ring she had been 'given' gleamed, a gold band she'd brought herself along with it, showing that she was technically married. Her hands were wrapped protectively around her stomach as she gazed into the fire, humming a soft tune to herself.

"What're we going to do?" Chad exclaimed, turning on his wife, "Taylor! Taylor, help me!"

Taylor glared back, "Why? You got yourself into this mess, Charles!"

Chad winced away from his full name, before turning to glare at Sharpay.

"This is your fault! Why couldn't you have noticed EARLIER? When we had a chance to do something?!"

Sharpay remained silent.

The thing that she, Chad and Taylor were…discussing (loudly) was the shocking news they had received that morning.

Sharpay was pregnant.

Gabriella had guessed it. Over the last couple of months, she had noticed Sharpay getting bigger, and all the other symptoms, and the morning before, had brought over a home pregnancy test and insisted she used it. Sharpay had refused and this morning, Gabriella and Ryan had brought over Taylor's father, Robert McKessie to Sharpay's house. Robert was a doctor, and after Taylor thought she'd miscarried Angel, he'd come and discovered she was infact still pregnant. To Sharpay's primary annoyance and then shock, he'd diagnosed that she was pregnant. The moment he'd said this, Chad had blown into such a rage that Robert couldn't even announce properly how far along she was, he'd left in such a hurry.

Of course, Chad immediately leapt to action, screaming, yelling and tantruming; he was after all the father.

November 26th 2015, 12.30PM

Sharpay tiptoed quietly into the dark room and turned on the small lamp, smiling warmly at the sight.

Her eleven-year-old daughter, Zoë, lay in her bed, snoozing contently; Sharpay was unsure whether Zoë knew her little sister had crawled in with her during the night. Sure enough, the six year old was wrapped in her big sister's arms, mumbling audibly in her sleep.

Sharpay glanced at the time again and rolled her eyes; they'd had plenty enough sleep.

"Zoë," she breathed, leaning down and giving the older girl a shake. Zoë fidgeted a moment before letting her eyes slide open, big walnut orbs meeting identical one.

"Mooooooooooom…" she moaned, attempting to roll over but almost crushing her sister in the action, waking her with a start.

"Zoë!"

"JEEZ!! When the hell did you get in here?

"Last night! I had a bad dream,"

"What was that?" Zoë yawned, lying back and pulling her sister into a hug. The younger girl cuddled contently into her sister, clearly not noticing her mother standing over, watching lovingly.

"'twas Daddy," the six-year-old mumbled, "He came back and didn't want me,"

Zoë visibly stiffened, her eyes meeting her mother's. Her sister frowned and rolled over, eyes widening when she saw Sharpay.

"Mommy! I—"

"It's okay, sweetie," Sharpay smiled softly, scooping her daughter up, "I wish he would come back for you too…"

"And for you?"

Sharpay paused, stroking her baby's wild hair, "Maybe."

Zoë gave a dramatic eye roll and rolled out of bed, her chestnut hair falling stylishly around her shoulders, "Yeah yeah, what's for breakfast?"

Sharpay gave a laugh, "Ooh, yeah, Miss Teenager! Well, your hair looks nice today,"

Zoë ruffled her own hair, grinning cheekily, "Yep. Just wanna look rough 'n' ready!"

With that, she took off down the hall, hearing her mother give a shriek of indifference.

"WHERE did you pick up that term??!!"

Zoë laughed, ignoring her as she pelted into her brother's room.

Seven-year-old Shaun was already up and dressed in his soccer uniform, his blonde hair flopping into his blue eyes. Zoë paused, eyeing him jealously for a moment – how she wished she had his colouring – before smiling suddenly, straightening up.

"What?" Shaun asked suspiciously, picking up soccer ball from the floor, "You usually glare at me like that for longer,"
Zoë's grin widened.

"I usually am jealous of lots of people – then I remember I have boobs and that makes it all so much better!" she exclaimed, relishing in his face contorting in disgust.

But, it was true. Despite being only eleven, Zoë had developed quickly, and many people mistook her for thirteen or fourteen. Unfortunately, she had inherited Sharpay's height and was short, while Shaun had also taken his father's basketball-figure, and was nearly as tall as her despite being four years younger…which did not amuse Zoë.

But, Shaun's sport of choice was soccer, while Zoë enjoyed basketball. In fact, Zoë managed to enjoy most sports, while being a huge girly-girl. Sharpay often chuckled that she and Troy would've had the perfect daughter if… and that's how the sentence ended; with that "if…".

Zoë sighed as her eyes drifted to the family photo on Shaun's wall. Their mother was holding a pink, squishy new-born baby with a tuft of blonde hair sticking out from a blue cap, her own face red and sweaty. Troy stood beside her, grinning like a madman, leant down so his chin was resting on his partner's shoulder as he smiled at the photographer (inevitably Uncle Ryan). Zoë sat in her mother's lap, staring in awe at her new baby brother. She had loved him then, and she still loved him now. She and Shaun were the weirdest brother and sister in Albuquerque – they adored each other.

Zoë retreated back to her room once her mother was gone and threw on her jeans, Converse All-Star trainers and her dad's old basketball jersey, before heading outside, climbing over the fence into next door's garden.

The garden next door was a change; while the Bolton's garden was slightly straggly and overgrown, with an old swing set at the bottom and an algae-ridden pond, the Evans's garden was cleanly cut, and neat. A peanut-shape swimming pool took up most of the space, with a shiny new swing set off in the cornor and a barbeque against the fence. Zoë landed with a small thumpon the melting snow and set off across the lawn, climbing onto the porch and rapping twice on the glass window. She shivered against the slight chill – she wasn't used to cold! She lived in friggin' New Mexico!

A moment later, a familiar woman with curly brown hair and brown eyes appeared, grinning as she slid open the door.

"Aha, she rises!" Gabriella Evans grinned, hoisting the baby on her hip.

Gabriella and Ryan moved into the house next to Sharpay shortly after Gabriella lost the baby she was pregnant with – a baby boy. It seemed the stress of her whole pregnancy had got to her. Unfortunately, she'd also had tremendous damage to her womb and couldn't bear anymore children.

Then, just a year ago, Ryan had got involved in his colleague's case – his friend, Ricky had represented an old lady (known only as Penny P.) who was suing her son-in-law for custody of her granddaughter – she claimed her son-in-law, Ryder Thomas, had abused both his daughter and late wife physically.

Then, Penny died of cancer, but not before proof of Ryder's abuse on his daughter was found in the form of bruises around her neck. Gabby and Ryan went with Ricky to visit the child in hospital – and they fell in love with her instantly. The 18-month-old had curly black hair and big green eyes flecked with brown around the pupil, and despite all she had been through, she gave a huge smile to each visitor, showing two rows of pearly teeth. Her skin was almost the same colour as Taylor's, but darker, and the couple had wasted no time in adopting her. They had renamed her Maria Elizabeth Mary Evans. Gabriella had meant for her to be called Maria, but the funny arrangement of her names had made Dylan call her "Meme" which was changed to "Mimi", thus earning her a completely unrelated nickname.

Mimi grinned down from her adoptive mother's arms as Zoë followed them in.

Dylan sat with his father watching the television. His brown curls had grown straighter with age and flopped sexily in his blue eyes, his skin a light mocha colour.

If, Zoë thought, if we weren't related, I'd think he was quite gorgeous.

But, Dylan was her cousin and her best friend. He, like her, did a lot of sports, but, as both his parents were not very tall, he was about an inch shorter than Zoë and he hated it.

"It's not FAIR!" he would moan, "I'm older than you!"

"Yeeeeah…by a couple of hours!" Gabby would retort, only adding to Zoë's smugness.

"I'm still OLDER!"

Zoë chuckled and threw herself down beside her cousin, grabbing a slice of toast from his plate.

"Gimme that back. And, mornin', by the way."

Zoë chuckled and took a bite of the toast, smiling at his cross expression.

"You're gonna pay for that, Bolton," he muttered darkly, although he had a humorous glint in his periwinkle eyes.

"Am I…Evans?"

"Yes you are…Bolton."

"Well, Evans…"

"Enough!" Ryan exclaimed, covering his ears, "Zoë, Dyl, stop!"

The two eleven-year-olds grinned sheepishly and turned back to the news.

Sharpay stood in her own garden, having watched her eldest daughter scrabble over the fence to Ryan and Gabriella's yard. Smiling slightly at the thought of how much Zoë was like Troy (if also a lot like her too), she turned to the pond and wrinkled her nose. The surface of the pond was scummy and green with algae; she had to find someone to fix that.

"Ugh…uh, oof!"

A strange chorus of noise behind Sharpay made her turn and her mouth fall open. Her younger daughter, dressed in a coat, jeans and boots, was hanging onto the top of the fence, her little legs kicking as she struggled to pull herself up.

"Tiffany!" Sharpay shrieked. Tiffany, surprised, lost her grip and landed on a pile of snow in a cloud of white. Sharpay immediately ran over, seeing her little face pucker up and her eyes begin watering.

"Oh, Tiff," she sighed, kneeling down and wrapping her arms around the small girl, "You're still too little, baby."

Tiffany sniffled, "S'not fair. Why can't I get over it? Zoë can, and Dyl, and Angel too. Why—?"

"When you get older, you will," Sharpay assured her, before leaning closer and touching her nose to Tiffany's, smiling, "Or you might have Uncle Ryan's lack of balance..."

"No!" Tiffany cried in horror. Sharpay giggled at her daughter's face and pulled her up.

"Come on, princess. Let's clean you up."

Tiffany nodded and took her mother's hand. Sharpay led her back to the house, trying not to dwell on the fact that all her children were so much like Troy.

January 4th 2009, 9.35PM

Both Sharpay and Taylor were surprised when Chad suddenly broke off mid-tirade. He was still voicing his feelings about Sharpay's pregnancy and had been for a while, but now he stood in the middle of the room, shoulders sagging and a look of utter defeat on his face.

"Chad…?" Taylor whispered fearfully; whenever Chad became serious and quiet, something was always wrong.

"What's wrong, Chad?"

Chad gave her an 'ask-a-stupid-question' look before sighing, "I just…I wish Troy was here."

At the sound of her late boyfriend's name, Sharpay jerked, her eyes snapping up to the man before her. There was no way she could keep blissfully ignoring the conversation now, not now that she was reminded of him.

If Chad had noticed Sharpay's reaction, he pretended not to as he continued, "I mean, if he were here, he'd tell me that everything would be alright and I'd figure it out…or at the very least he'd punch me for knocking up his girl, and make me feel a little better. But…he's not."

Sharpay had to swallow a lump in her throat; he was right. If he wasn't your enemy, Troy was your friend, and nothing in between. He always had a way of cheering you up. And the fact that the happiest member of the gang was…was dead…it just seemed like irony or cruelty.

Taylor, however, did not join in the melancholy mood. She climbed to her feet and gave Chad a death-glare.

"You…stupid…bastard!" she snarled, punctuating each word with a slap on the arm, "Of all the insensitive things to say!"

"OW! Taylor!"

"As if it wasn't bad enough you got her pregnant!" Taylor cried, "You have to blame her and then bring up her dead boyfriend?! Good God!"

Before Chad could open his mouth and retort, Sharpay cleared her throat.

"You know…" she began, eyes flicking from Chad to Taylor, "Considering this conversation's about me, I'm not getting much of a say."

Chad and Taylor lowered their heads guiltily, before sitting back down.

"Sorry, Shar," Taylor mumbled, "So…what do you want?"

Sharpay frowned at her bemusedly.

"She means," Chad broke in, "Do you want to…um, go through with this, er, thing?"

"Yes," Sharpay exclaimed, horrified, "I'm not gonna…kill my child!"

"Oh, yeah, of course," Chad stammered, "I just meant, ah…!"

"I don't want to talk about what I'm going to do," Sharpay told him, "That's my decision. But I need to tell you something first."

She straightened up a little, and shifted until she was comfortable, resting one hand on her abdomen.

"Weeeelll…" she began, "Chad, when did we, er, sleep together?"

"I don't know…" he replied, "November? Early-ish."

"Yeah," Sharpay agreed, "Like, the tenth? I can remember it was around then. After my fight with…"

She trailed off and Chad and Taylor nodded in understanding, letting her gather herself.

"Well, that would make me three or four months along, yeah?" Sharpay asked. The pair opposite her nodded again, "Well, guys, when Robert was examining me, he told me I was pregnant just before he told you. And, according to my symptoms and the size of, well, the bump," she giggled a little before continuing, "I'm a little over five months pregnant."

There was a moment of stunned silence as the revelation sunk into Chad and Taylor.

"You mean…" Taylor gasped in realization, "The baby is…Troy's?"

Sharpay smiled sadly and nodded. Chad blinked, still in shock, before the 'Chad Danforth' twinkle returned to his eyes and he announced, "It's a New Year's miracle!"

"Chad?" Sharpay said, with her first proper smile since before Troy's death.

"Yeah?"

"You're an idiot."

November 26th 2015, 12.40PM

"Tiffany Lisa Bolton!" Sharpay cried, giggling crazily, "How did you manage to get snow in your clothes?"

Tiffany scowled, "Wasn't my fault!"

"Honey, you fell off a fence you're too small to climb..."

"UGH! I know!" she cried, clearly sick of hearing it, "You must think I'm such a...a...a Clarissa!"

Sharpay looked solemnly at her and placed her hand on her shoulder, "Tiffany...no-one deserves the title of a Clarissa."

The children of all the gang had often been relayed the story of Clarissa Robinson – she was Chad's favourite horror story and the children's worst monster-under-the-bed.

The fact that she'd dated (at least, 'dated' was the child-friendly way of putting it) other men while with Ryan, become all Fatal Attraction-y when he left her for Gabriella (the authorities had even found proof that she was the one who hit Sharpay with a car while finding evidence against her in the case of her murdered husband), lied to Ryan about a baby, made Ryan leave Gabriella and get engaged to her, was stupid enough to claim to have miscarried and then let Ryan catch her partying, and then used the murder trial to worm her way back into the gang's life and ruin the Evans's relationship was enough to give the younger kids nightmares.

Luckily, she was a threat none of them would ever have to encounter again; days before the final trial, and only a week before Tiffany's birth, Clarissa was hit by a bus in Los Angeles and died instantly.

(A.N. I don't remember who suggested a bus but whoever it was...ROCK ON DUDE!)

The news was even enough to pull Gabriella out of her lengthy depression after losing the baby – she hated to think ill of the dead but God, was she glad that blonde Barbie beyotch was gone!

"I do," Tiffany grumbled, wriggling off her heavy coat. Her brown hair sprung lively out of the hood – she had inherited the natural curliness of her maternal grandmother's hair, although her colouring was all her fathers. Her eyes were ultramarine and a perfect walnut shape, with a cute button nose and a splattering of freckles.

Sharpay smiled lovingly at her as she skipped into the kitchen, climbing onto the counter (which was thankfully less high than the gate) and wave across the street.

Across the road lived the Danforths; Chad, Taylor, Angel, Bella and Cheyenne.

Angel, now nine years old, was on the snow covered lawn on her knees, patting them repeatedly as she called encouragement to the youngest Danforths. Bella and Cheyenne were thirteen months old and just beginning to walk; Bella stood uncertainly between her big sister and the safety net that was her mother on the other side, while Cheyenne sat comfortably on Taylor's lap, gurgling. Chad was hovering around Bella, terrified that she was going to fall.

Bella was a complete daddy's girl, and Chad was totally wrapped around her little finger.

Angel looked up briefly and waved back to Tiff, before going back to Bella just as she rushed some wobbly steps and fell into her big sister's arms.

Sharpay also watched, her face alight with a grin, as she felt her mind wonder. How different they all were without Troy Bolton. The Danforths and Evanses were officially what she would call "the perfect American families".

"You are too!" Taylor and Gabriella both would insist, laughing as they had a cup of coffee and discussed family life. It'd been so long that they rarely discussed Troy, and sometimes he would slip her friends' minds. But Sharpay knew they would never forget. So she'd twist her ring fondly and shake her head.

"No." She'd say determinedly, "The perfect American family is mom, dad and kids. Where's my children's' daddy, huh?"

And they'd falter, the light fading briefly from their eyes.

"You miss him, don't you?" one of them would say. Sharpay would nod, smiling ever so slightly.

"Yes; of course I do, yes! With all my heart."

Last chapter will be up soon!! Its a bit of an uneventful epilogue but yeah xD Today or tomorrow...

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