Aw, the last one! Thanks for all the reviews, guys. Especially MONDERLING MOOFOOT, who wrote the most comprehensive, most detailed, most extensive review I have ever recieved, and kept me entertained throughout the whole thing. I love hearing "I loves." You, my friend, are insane, and it's awesome.

Okay. This is important. Kind of. Now that I'm basically done with all my projects except for one which I've got writer's block on, I am accepting challenges. Gimme something. Anything. Except Troyella. No Troyella for you. I may even do Tryan. Anyway, the more challenging they are, the more likely it shall be that I do it. I'm picking two. I realize this this whole little bold section was horribly written and very rambling, but NOW YOU KNOW how much work it takes for me to make my writing coherent. That's right. Five minutes of proofreading.

Disclaimer: If you don't know by now...

A beginning

They're lounging on her bed, sheets twisted around them. She rests her head against his chest, and he strokes her hair.

"You're going to UCLA?" he asks.

"And hanging out on street corners every weekend, smoking pot and waiting for my big break," she says dryly.

"And I'm going to UConn."

"And playing basketball and getting wasted every night."

"Yep. We are the future of America." They laugh. "What happened here?"

"What do you mean?"

"How did we get here?"

"Well, it was my parents' fifth anniversary. They married young. My mother was wearing a—"

"Okay, smartass. How did we go from Wildcat Superstar and IcePrincess to ordinary guy and funny, considerate girl?"

"How did we ever get such stupid nicknames?"

"Maybe I'll leave out considerate."

"Bolton, you ass."

"You know you want some." She slaps his stomach. "But I mean. Where do we go from here?"

"We go to college," Sharpay says, in a "you're turning into Ryan" voice.

"I mean...where do we go from..." He made a vague gesture.

"Circles. Pointing. The Finger. Giving up. Doing—oh, right, laying in bed after having hot sex. Well, it's not like we're official or anything."

"Well, what if we were official?" She stiffens.

"Do you want to be?"

"Do you?" She sits up suddenly, the sheets shifting around her.

"That doesn't answer the question," she says sharply. She notices his gaze. "Troy!"

"Sorry. I don't know. It would just...it would just be a lot easier if we could just say yeah, we're official, or no, how we acted school was how we always acted. I mean...nobody at school even knows about this."

"And look how well this is going! Honestly, I think keeping this a secret was the greatest idea I've come up with in a long time." He raises his eyebrows, as if to say You came up with it? To which she raises her eyebrows back, as if to say Yes, yes I did. But the quizzical look doesn't go away,and she sighs."Okay then." She reaches up and takes the hand resting in her hair. "We're official."

"What, just like that?" She lies back down beside him and scowls.

"I'm sorry, would you like to go through an awkward phase and a Walk of Shame and accidentally touching and embarrassingly compromising situations?"

"No, but...we're going to college in three months." She squeezes his hand.

"Then we better figure out how to make that work. Officially, of course."

And they lace their fingers in painful grips and stare at each other, contentedly in love although the confessions have never crossed their lips, wondering how they got here from the sandbox and sneaking kisses under tables, wondering what the Hell they're going to do now, waiting for something to happen.

Something always happens.

-end-

So, no, this does not have the same ending as "Chocolate Bars Chronicles," which you should read, by the way, it's a TSLoZaC fic. Yep, I'm a guilty pleasure Disney junkie.

No review quota, but you should do it, anyway.

Remember: Once in a lifetime opportunity, at least until I get another break and end up bored. Challenges!