After the initial terror of hearing his mother scream as she hit the bottom of the stairs, continue shrieking on the ten minute ambulance ride to the hospital, and whimper her way through the x-ray, Troy was more than slightly grateful to see his father bounding into the ER.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hi, champ," he said, and quickly turned his attention to his wife. Troy managed to pry his mother's fingers off his hand and stood to let his father sit down.

"I'm going to…uh…go to the bathroom."

His father barely glanced at him. "Sure thing, sport."

Leaning over to peck his mother on the forehead—she smiled up at him, and he made a mental note that his mother on pain meds was the funniest shit ever—and made a hasty escape to the hallway.

It wasn't that hospitals bothered him. Basketball wasn't the gentlest of sports; he'd had his fair share of injuries. When he combined the concussions with the broken bones, he'd probably been in this ER about six or seven times during the course of his high school career. But he'd never really been in the hand-holding position before, and it was definitely freaky to see his mom in that much pain. He flexed his fingers, wincing—the woman had a hell of a grip.

He made his way down the hall, trying to remember the way to the cafeteria. If he knew this ER—and he did—they'd probably be there at least a few more hours, and had no desire to be there on an empty stomach. Not that hospital food was especially good, but they used to have those little pudding cups, which were kind of awesome—

Oh. Hey. Was that Chad?

Troy frowned, trying to recognize his best friend from the back of his head—difficult, considering that his usually unruly hair was pulled back into a damp ponytail—but the set of his shoulders was impossible to mistake. He raised his voice as much as he dared. "Hey. Chad?"

Chad turned, confusion darkening on his features, and then caught Troy's eyes. Instead of grinning or waving, he stuck his hands into his pockets, looking almost awkward. "Oh. Hey."

Troy walked a little faster to reach him. "What are you doing here? Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Everything's fine." He gestured to the door behind him; peering at the sign, Troy saw that it was a bathroom. "Just…y'know. Waiting."

"For the bathroom?"

"For who's in it." The sounds of copious vomiting were suddenly audible, and Chad winced. "Um. What are you doing here?"

Troy gestured behind him. "My mom fell down the stairs."

Chad's eyes widened. "Shit, man! Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. We're waiting on x-rays, but it looks like a broken leg and some bruises." He forced a smile. "Screamed bloody murder, though, seriously. Gave me a fucking heart attack."

Chad grimaced. "I'll bet." The toilet flushed from inside, and Chad tapped on the bathroom door. "You okay?" he called.

There was a groan, followed by "I hate you."

Troy frowned. "Who is that?"

"It's—"

The door opened and Ryan Evans stepped out. His hair, like Chad's, was damp, though hidden under a dark blue fedora, which seemed to make his skin look even paler than it probably was. "I'm never speaking to you again. This is the last time—"

Chad cleared his throat. "I just ran into Troy."

"What?" Ryan turned and Troy waved, suppressing a grin, and Ryan flushed. "Oh. Hi, Troy."

"Hey, Ryan." Troy looked back and forth between the two. "Uh…what brings you two here?"

Ryan opened his mouth, then snapped it closed and turned on his heel, walking back into the bathroom and closing the door. A moment later, Troy heard him throwing up again. He cringed. "Is he okay?"

Chad looked, to Troy's surprise, more sheepish than concerned. "I think he will be. We're pretty sure he's got a concussion, but you know how this place is. They won't see you unless you're screaming or unconscious."

"Give me another ten minutes, I can probably pass out," Ryan groaned from behind the bathroom door, and Chad winced.

"I told you I was sorry!"

Ryan's reply was more vomiting, and Chad bit his bottom lip. Troy raised his eyebrows. "Dude. What did you do?"

"I didn't—um." Chad cleared his throat. "We were. I was. We. Um." He tugged at the collar of his t-shirt, frowned, and immediately pulled his arms out of the sleeves.

Troy blinked. "What are you doing?"

"It's on inside out," Chad explained, tugging it around, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric. "Anyway. Um—we—"

The toilet flushed again and Troy heard the sink run briefly before Ryan emerged again, looking even paler than before. "This is awful."

Chad's face softened, all the awkwardness leaving him, and he slid an arm under Ryan's, his hand closing on Ryan's elbow in a supportive grip. "You okay?"

Ryan nodded, taking off his hat to run shaking fingers through his hair, and Chad automatically took the hat from him. "I think so. Maybe." He swallowed gingerly. "I don't feel the overwhelming urge to throw up again, if that's what you mean."

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Chad tilted his head to peer into Ryan's eyes, frowning. "Your pupils are, like, huge. Or one of them is. You're definitely concussed, man."

Ryan nodded, and then winced. "Yeah. I think so."

"Want to sit down?"

"Um…yes. I think." He took a step forward and immediately swayed, and both Chad and Troy launched forward in an attempt to grab him. Chad got to him first, locking his arms around Ryan's waist and catching him before his knees could even buckle completely. Ryan shivered slightly. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You're okay." Chad's tone was soft and worried, and Troy raised his eyebrows. This was not a guy worrying about a friend. This was—

Oh. Oh, shit. Holy shit.

Troy stared at them.

Chad brushed Ryan's bangs off his face, curling his knuckles over Ryan's cheek. Ryan gave a faint smile.

Troy felt his jaw drop.

Chad glanced up. "Uh. Dude? You okay?"

Troy blinked several times. Nodded. Shook his head. Nodded again. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. You—dude. You're totally doing each other."

Chad's mouth dropped open. Ryan, who had always had somewhat impeccable timing, chose that moment to faint.

…

Ryan wasn't in school the next day. Chad was, though he looked somewhat exhausted—Troy suspected he'd been at the hospital with Ryan for quite awhile—and spent all of homeroom avoiding Sharpay's livid glare. The instant the bell rang, he bolted from the room, and Troy followed him, falling easily into step beside him.

The good thing about being a senior, he mused, was that the crowds in the hallways parted for you like you were Moses at the Red Sea. Troy was totally cool with that, especially in the cases where it made hounding his best friend easier.

"So," he said brightly. "When were you planning on telling me?"

Chad glanced at him. "Telling you what?"

"Don't play dumb, dude." Troy leaned against the lockers as Chad leaned down to work the combination on his. "About you and Ryan."

"Oh." Chad cleared his throat—he was doing that a lot lately, Troy noted. He hoped he wasn't coming down with anything, especially with playoffs coming up. "Uh…I was…getting around to it."

Troy raised his eyebrows. "How long has that been going on, anyway?"

Chad closed his locker and set off down the hall without answering.

Troy followed him quickly, scowling at a freshman who attempted to walk in front of him (the kid let out a high-pitched squeak and stumbled backward). "Come on. How long?"

Chad mumbled something Troy couldn't hear.

"What?"

"Since August." Chad said loudly, and immediately glanced around to be sure no one had heard him.

Troy gaped at him. "Since—what? Dude, that's, like…" he counted back. It took him a moment—math was Gabriella's thing, not his. "…five months! How could you have kept this a secret for five months?"

Chad snorted. "Yeah. Because that wouldn't be weird. 'Hey, Troy. Good to be back at school. You still dating Gabi? That's cool. By the way, I'm fucking Ryan Evans.'" He cocked an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have been even slightly weirded out?"

"I mean, maybe if you said it like that." Chad rolled his eyes and quickened his step, and Troy hurried to catch up with him. "But I wouldn't have freaked out, that's just kind of…crude. You could have told me you were dating."

"If we were dating, I would have told you."

Troy looked at him, incredulous. "Are you going to deny it? Seriously?"

"I'm not denying that we're sleeping together," Chad clarified as they headed into the stairwell. "I'm denying that we're dating. Because we're not. Dating."

Troy blinked, confused. "But you're—wait. What?"

"This is your floor," Chad pointed out, nudging him onto the landing.

Chad had sped off up another flight of stairs before Troy could even figure out what had just happened.

…

During free period, Troy went down to the nurse's office. It wasn't that he was feeling sick—he was actually feeling a lot better than he usually did. Gabriella credited the herbal teas she'd been bringing him in the morning. She was sweet like that.

Anyway.

He was at the nurse's office because the window of her door had one of those "LGBT SAFE SPACE" stickers on it (he didn't quite get the triangles, should he Google it?) and that seemed as good a place to start as any. He knocked on the door and poked his head in.

"If you're another freshman looking to get out of Bergus's chemistry test, you're out of luck," Ms. Ramirez said without looking up.

Troy cleared his throat. "Um. No."

Ms. Ramirez glanced up. "Oh, hello, Troy." Her dark eyes swept over him. "Young man, I know for a fact you haven't been injured in any of your last games, and you don't have gym for another two periods. What class are you trying to get out of?"

"I'm not!" He flashed his cheekbones at her. That melted most teachers.

She was, unfortunately, immune to it. He should've figured, after four years. "Then what can I do for you?"

Oh. Okay, this was awkward. "Um. Do you…" he dug his toe into the carpet. "Do you have any…y'know, pamphlets? About gay stuff?"

Her penciled-on eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"It's not for me!" he said hastily. "My friend…" She was already eyeing him like she didn't believe a word he was saying, and he sighed. "Anyway. Do you have any pamphlets or stuff about…y'know, coming out?"

"I do indeed." She got up from her desk and rummaged in a file cabinet for a few moments, coming up with a paperclipped bunch of pamphlets. "This should cover just about everything."

He skimmed through the titles. 'How Do I Know? Questioning Your Sexuality', 'Who to Tell: Coming Out to Friends and family', 'Safe Sex and You', 'The Pink Posse: GLBTQ Role Models'. "This is great, Ms. Ramirez. Thanks."

"Not at all." She smiled at him. "And you know I'm always here if you want to talk."

Mortified, he forced a smile. "Thanks, Ms. Ramirez. That means a lot."

She waved a cheerful goodbye as he stuffed the pamphlets into his bag.

Chad had better appreciate just how much Troy cared.

…

While Chad was changing after gym that day, Troy slid the pamphlets into his backpack.

It was as simple as that.

…

As they made their way out to the senior parking lot, Troy broached the subject again, trying a different tactic this time. "So," he said, looping an arm around Chad's shoulders. "Are you going to visit Ryan?"

Chad frowned at him. "What? Why would I be going to visit Ryan?"

Troy blinked. "Well…I thought, since he was out sick, or hurt, or whatever, and you two are a thing, that you'd—"

"Dude." Chad ducked out from under his arm, shooting him a look of pure exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you? We're not a 'thing'."

Troy sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

…

That night, he went online and searched 'coming out'. Google brought him to several helpful pages about family and support and good timing, and a few not-so-helpful pages that he actually stared at for a few minutes before shock set in and he started closing down windows, terrified that his father would come in and get the wrong idea.

Because while that interracial threesome was totally conclusive to his research, his dad probably wouldn't see it that way.

Troy could understand that.

Anyway. He took notes on all the helpful sites and contemplated sending some of them to Chad, but changed his mind. Instead, he called Ryan Evans.

The phone rang for quite awhile—which was okay, because Ryan had one of those fun ringback tunes, though Troy wasn't quite sure why his was set to 'If You Were Gay'. Finally, though, Ryan picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ryan. It's Troy."

"Um." Ryan's voice sounded confused, bordering on suspicion. "Hi?"

"How's your head?"

"Sore. The codeine's handy, though."

"Oh. That's good."

There was an awkward pause. Maybe he should have had Gabriella make this call. She was so much better than him at talking to Ryan. They bonded over—well, something. He wasn't sure what. Shoes, maybe? Gabriella had cute taste in shoes.

"Well," Ryan said after a moment, "it's been fabulous talking to you, and I've never been more grateful for unlimited minutes. Thanks for checking up on me, and—"

"I need you to help me get Chad to come out," Troy said in a rush.

Ryan was silent. Troy had a sudden mental image of the blond staring quizzically at his phone. "Um. What?"

"Chad's gay," Troy said, very patiently. Although Ryan should know this, since he and Chad had apparently been…together…for five months.

"I'm aware," Ryan said dryly. "What does that have to do with me? Other than the obvious, of course."

"Well…he should come out. Be who he is. Because we'll all still love him, and then you two can be an official couple, and—" Troy broke off, a brilliant idea dawning. "I know! You can go on a double date with me and Gabi! It can be like a trial run, and then we can get Kelsi and Jason, and Zeke and Sharpay, and, oh, hey, this could be awesome! I'll start calling people and—"

"Troy." Troy stopped talking. "I'm hanging up now."

Before Troy could ask why, there was a click in his ear, and he was left staring at the display on his cell phone, which cheerfully informed him that the call had been ended. Troy sighed.

And here he'd always thought Ryan was nicer than Sharpay.

…

Chad was furious the next day.

"What the hell, man?" he hissed as Troy slid into his desk in homeroom. "What were you thinking?"

Troy blinked, confused. "What'd I do?"

"Putting that stuff in my bag—"

Oh, that. "Listen," he said patiently. "You're never going to be happy if you keep yourself stuffed in the closet. You need to be proud of who you are, Chad. There's no reason for you to keep pretending to be—"

"Shut. Up," Chad said though gritted teeth.

Ryan and Sharpay swept into the classroom in all their glittery glory. Sharpay broke away from her brother to perch on the edge of Zeke's desk, but Ryan came over and dropped into his desk next to Chad. He glanced at him, and then at Troy, and sighed. "Oh, God. Here we go."

"I had nothing to do with this," Chad said quickly.

"Mm-hm." Ryan arched a slender eyebrow. "I don't suppose you've gotten around to telling him how that concussion occurred, have you?"

Chad's face went crimson. "Haven't gotten to it, no," he mumbled, apparently attempting to sink into his chair.

Troy raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Dude. Tell?"

Ryan opened his mouth, and Chad clapped a hasty hand over it. "It was nothing," he said hastily. "Nothing at all."

He glared daggers at Ryan, who laughed cheerfully and settled back in his seat, taking out his cell phone and opening a text message. Scowling, Chad sat back. Troy looked between them, figured out nothing was going anywhere, and took out his own phone to text Gabi.

A moment later, Chad's phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out, flipped it open, and the still-present flush on his cheeks darkened. "Ryan," he groaned, burying his face in his arms. Utterly innocent, Ryan shot him a sugar-sweet smile.

…

Troy drove Gabriella home after school, only half-listening to her as she chattered on in the passenger seat.

"And I was thinking, we should try out for the winter musical again. It was so much fun last year, and Kelsi says she's written a few songs with us in mind, and…Troy? Are you listening?"

"Hm?" He glanced at her. "Oh. Sorry, Gabi. What?"

She frowned. Pouted, really. She was really cute when she pouted. He resisted the urge to reach over and pinch her cheek. "Are you okay? You seem very…distant."

"I'm okay." He hesitated, chewing on his lower lip. "Actually…" he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. "Okay. Chad's gay."

Gabriella's eyes widened until he could see white all around the irises. Wow. He didn't know eyes could actually get that wide. "Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"He told you?"

"Well…no. I just kind of figured it out. And he hasn't denied it. Exactly. But…yeah."

"Oh." Gabriella nodded slowly, realization dawning over her features. "Wait! Is that—is that why he and Ryan have been so—"

"Exactly." Troy smacked the steering wheel vehemently. The horn went off and they both jumped, startled, looking around for the source of the noise before laughing awkwardly.

Gabriella fiddled with one of her bracelets. "So, are he and Ryan dating?"

"Well…" Troy shifted awkwardly. "Um. I think they are. Chad says they aren't. But they're definitely…together."

Gabi frowned. "What do you mean?"

"They're. Uh." He cleared his throat. "Y'know."

Gabriella cocked her head to the side.

"They. Um. You know." He coughed. Wow. Whoever thought he'd find himself tying to explain his best friend's gay friends-with-benefits arrangement to his girlfriend, who probably didn't even know what sex was, let alone how it worked between two guys. "They're…hooking up."

"Oh. Oh." She gasped. "Oh."

Troy felt his ears heat up. "Yeah."

She frowned. "So they're doing…that, but they're not dating?" She seemed torn between amazement and horror. "How?"

"That's—uh—not important." See, this was why they didn't spend a lot of time talking about this kind of thing. They weren't really a…talkie couple. They were more of a…stare lovingly into each other's eyes for long periods of time couple.

Gabriella had really pretty eyes.

Well, normally. Right now they were still kind of comically wide.

"Anyway," he said, changing the subject. "Chad's gay, and he's really paranoid and in denial about it. So, I think we need to do something to show him that we're there for him. And that we support him. And all that stuff."

Gabriella nodded. Very, very slowly. Troy shifted uncomfortably. Gabi looked thoughtful for a moment, and then brightened. "I have an idea!"

She had that smile. The smile.

Troy grinned. This was going to be good.

…

Mrs. Danforth waved him upstairs when Troy bounded into Chad's kitchen the next afternoon. She called "but I think he's with—" after him, but he didn't hear her.

In retrospect, he would later reflect, he should really think before he crashed his way into people's bedrooms. Or he should at least knock.

Because knocking kind of reduced the chance of walking in on his best friend getting a blowjob from a dude. Which was kind of what just happened.

"What the—" Chad pushed Ryan's head back, scampering back on his bed to stuff himself back into his boxers and jeans, eyes wide and horrified. "Troy, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"Do you not knock?" Ryan asked, arching an eyebrow. He looked, Troy thought with some amazement, remarkably dignified for someone who'd just had his mouth around another guy's—

Whoa. Stopping that train of thought, like, now.

Ryan scooted to the edge of the bed and crossed one leg over the other, eyeing Troy with what looked like veiled amusement. "So, is there something we can do for you? Because we were a bit busy. If you know what I mean."

"Uh—" Troy choked on his own tongue—funny how that happened sometimes—and swallowed hard. Oh. Hey. Swallowing was another word he should probably not think about right now. "I'm just here to, uh, invite you guys to a party."

Chad seemed to have recovered from his mortification enough to find his voice. "A party?" He buttoned his jeans and sat down next to Ryan. "For what? When?"

Troy shrugged. "Y'know. Just—a party. For fun. On Friday. At eight. At Taylor's." He said most of this in one breath. He cleared his throat. "So…yeah. You in?"

"Uh…" Chad glanced at Ryan. Ryan tilted his head to one side, pursed his lips, and shrugged. Chad turned back to Troy. "Yeah, man. We're in. Eight at Taylor's?"

"Eight at Taylor's," Troy confirmed.

No one spoke. Troy rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Chad's upper lip twitched very slightly. Ryan licked his bottom lip. Chad swallowed visibly.

"Well," Troy said, a bit louder than necessary. "I'll be going now."

He bolted, and was halfway out the kitchen door before he doubled back, stuck his head in the kitchen door, yelped "bye, Mrs. D!" and raced out again.

…

"Okay, guys," Troy announced, climbing up onto the fireplace in Taylor's living room and raising his voice. "Listen up!"

The room quieted. Even Sharpay, who was mid-rant about something involving sparkles, snapped her mouth shut.

Troy cleared his throat. "Okay. Good." He put his hands on his hips, full-on team captain pep talk mode. "Now, as you know, this is Chad's coming out surprise party. We need to show him that we all love him and care about him no matter what. That means no gay jokes, no sex jokes, nothing—just happy faces and smiles and very very nonsexual hugs. Okay? We're all in this together, we have to show him that we're there for him. Got it?"

"Got it," the room chorused back.

For some reason, Troy felt like there should be a music cue here.

Jason, who had been keeping watch by the window, spun around. "They're here!"

They all scrambled to hide while Taylor went to answer the door. Everything went very, very, eerily silent.

"Hey," Chad's voice said, confused. "What gives? I thought there was a party?"

"Maybe this was some hugely elaborate hoax," Ryan's voice said dryly. "Although I don't actually think Troy is capable of—"

They leapt out from behind the furniture. "SURPRISE!"

It was almost worth everything to see Ryan's eyes widen in shock as he jumped back, grabbing Chad's arm in surprise, and Chad's jaw dropping open as he grappled for Ryan's hand, then dropped it.

"Dude." He said. He blinked, looked around, and blinked again. "Dude. What is this party for?"

"We're surprising you!" Jason said gleefully.

Chad's mouth opened and closed. "With…what?"

Jason frowned, confused. He looked at Zeke, who grinned cheerfully. "You're gay!"

"I'm—" Chad looked somewhat taken aback. And then realization dawned, and his eyes narrowed. "Troy!"

Troy hopped over the couch, beaming. "No need to thank me!"

"Thank you?" Chad gaped at him. "Why would I be thanking you? You just—outed me! To everyone! I didn't even out myself yet!"

"Well, yeah." Troy rolled his eyes. "And if you had your way, you never would. So I did it for you. And everyone's totally cool with it!"

"We threw you a party," Gabriella said helpfully. "There's cake!"

Chad stared at her. Stared at Troy. Stared at Gabriella again. He looked too dazed to be angry.

Troy considered that a good thing.

After a very long, very uncomfortable moment (during which Ryan examined his nails, Gabriella began chewing on the end of one of her braids, and Sharpay may or may not have groped Zeke through his jeans), Chad nodded very slowly. "Okay."

Troy raised his eyebrows. "Okay?"

"Yeah." And was it just him, or was there a certain…relief in the way that Chad's shoulders relaxed. "Yeah. Okay."

And then he turned on his heel, grabbed Ryan around the waist, and pulled him into the steamiest, most intense kiss Troy had ever seen outside of a porn movie.

Somewhere behind him, he thought he heard someone say, "that is so hot". That sounded a lot like Gabriella. But there was no way it was Gabriella. Because…no. Gabriella's mind did not work like that.

Chad detangled his lips from Ryan's. Ryan stumbled slightly against him, blinking up at him.

"Um," he said, through decidedly swollen lips. He looked, Troy thought, positively fucked. It was a good look for him.

Oh, look. Another train of thought that was going right out the window. Yup, there it went. Oookay.

"Date me," Chad said.

Troy blinked, taken aback, and then realized that Chad was, in fact, talking to Ryan, and not him. This came as an intense relief.

"Um," Ryan said. "Yeah. Okay."

Chad nodded. He looked smug. "Cool."

And that, Troy realized, was that.

…

That night, after he dropped Gabriella off at home, Troy checked his email before he went to bed, and was more than slightly surprised to see an email from Chad.

Re: That thing you were wondering about

Hey, man,

Thanks for going through all the trouble to out me to everyone we've ever met in the world. Appreciate it. I'm not mad, really. A little annoyed, but not mad.

But, there is a way to get back at you. And that's to give you just a little more information than you'll know what to do with. Well, you'll know what to do with it, but you'll feel maaaaad awkward about it. ;)

So. About Ryan's concussion.

To make a very long (if you know what I mean) story short, we were having sex in his shower. And that's legit sex, by the way. None of that handjob shit. And things got a little intense. And he hit his head against the wall. And we probably should have addressed that at the time, rather than ten minutes later when he passed out, but hey. Endorphins. What can you do?

So, now you know. Do with that information what you will.

Thanks for the party, dude.

Still on for hoops tomorrow?

-Chad.

P.S. Ryan totally swallows.

Troy minimized the window.

Paused.

Opened it.

Re-read the last sentence. Completely against his will and without his brain's permission, his right hand inched toward the button on his jeans.

His phone buzzed. He jerked his hand back and flipped it open.

From: Chad D
Get your hand off your cock and stop thinking about my boyfriend sucking you off. I'll KNOW, dude. You can't lie for shit.
3

Troy groaned.

He was getting the feeling that things were going to start getting very, very uncomfortable.

He wasn't really used to that.