A/N: Sooo sorry it took long to update! I'm preparing to go off to University at the end of this month and it's been hectic :P. Really, thanks very much for the reviews (the pitchfork imagery was certainly impressive OO LOL). I'll try and update again again in a couple-- or one--days since this chapter was sort of short.

Chapter Seven: The Good, The Bad, The Ugly.

Lunch outside was quickly decided to be a bad idea-- at least, by the current parties present. Those being Gabriella, Troy, Taylor, and Ryan (the last of which was currently struggling with a growing itch by merely sitting atop this plant called 'lawn'). Troy and Gabriella had been at battle with a particularly stubborn bee, and Taylor was quick to complain about the heat. Sharpay remained the only one present who thought that getting a little sun was a good idea. Though the fact that it was an unnaturally pleasant day, considering the time of year, was quickly melting hesitant hearts. Currently the group was situated on a nice piece of lawn in front of the school, all spread out on the grassy area.

"So," Sharpay started, flipping onto her stomach and playing with a strand of her hair. "I've been thinking-- East High, is getting dull and fast. We need to plan something."

Taylor wasn't exactly enjoying Sharpay's company, but they'd found a common ground. They would and could achieve anything they set their minds to-- now, finding the common ground in that was beyond anyone's current capabilities.

"What do you mean Sharpay?" Taylor offered mechanically (drawing a giggle from Gabriella who currently had a lounging Troy's head resting on her lap). Sharpay threw a slight glare before sitting up onto her bum, a wide smirk grew onto her lips.

"Simple. We plan what any self-respecting teenager plans-- a party."

At the last word Ryan immediately straightened up, his momentary battle with itchy grass set aside. "A party? But Sharpay-- the last time we threw a party only two people show--" Cue Sharpay's hand colliding against Ryan's mouth.

"That was different," she hissed in return, throwing a few threatening glares in Ryan's direction. "The point is," she continued, "we can throw one in honor of, um... the musical! And... and the game that's coming up! Yeah, like a celebratory type of soiree!" She looked at Gabriella with a sort of pleading little glint in her eye-- and Gabriella looked down at Troy before answering. So much looking.

"Erm..." she started, "Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun."

"Yeah, so does sifting through garbage-- until you smell it," Taylor muttered, inaudible to all by Troy who couldn't help but let a wide smile slip onto his face. Sharpay noticed and mistook this for his way of saying he agreed.

"And Troy agrees!" she exclaimed, quite content with her idea and already falling silent as she planned for the event to come. They all looked between each other, dreading just what exactly was brewing in that blonde head of hair. Nothing else was said on the matter, and they continued to chatter on about a few meaningless topics-- as is appropriate for a lunch day spent lounging on grass. The only momentary disruption came when Troy noticed a head of black hair-- who's obvious owner was Clara-- being dropped off in the front of the school, apparantly late. He waved in her direction, but she didn't seem to notice him. And no one had noticed this not-so-magnificent occurence between the two, none except for Gabriella.

It'd been a week since Sharpay's initial idea of throwing a party in honor of all the big events that were about to go down. The popularity of the idea itself was also aided by the fact that they'd all had to deal with things like SAT and ACT and LMNOP and all of them really needed a break from abbreviations and most letters of the alphabet. She'd gone an extensive advertising spree, making flyers and putting them up on every free surface she could. Clara Bryant, for one, was now staring at that very neon pink flyer as she sat on the sidewalk behind the auditorium-- her dad, this time, late in picking her up. She wasn't really interested in going, since the entire idea went against her entire philosophy of glaring and minimal social interaction. Of course, the neon was doing a great job of highlighting the fact that her social skills sucked and that maybe she should just try it out.

She was fighting that little voice in her head though, and hard.

As soon as she saw Troy come out through the exit, she gathered her things and got ready to leave. Now most days he didn't ask if she wanted a ride, it was just assumed. If she was still sitting there by the time he got out-- then he'd just take her home. She'd offer to pay for the gas money on numerous occasions, but he wouldn't really have any of that. Nonetheless, she was grateful (because who knows how many kidnappers she'd have fought off by now).

"Rehearsal went well?" It's how most of their conversations started. Ever since the paint fight, things had been a little weird-- like they couldn't decide whether they were friends or whether they were still just acquaintances. At least, on her part. She wasn't really into this getting new friends business. They had been right, in any case, Mary Ellen had been pissed (but Clara honorably took all the blame for it-- embellishing the story just a bit to include a wayward racoon that had somehow gotten inside and knocked over various cans of paint).

They arrived at his dark blue truck, and she opened the side door-- taking a seat in the passenger's side. "Alright I guess," he replied. "Darbus seems to think we need more work though-- I'm not the greatest er, actor."

"Oh," she replied, rummaging through her bag as she looked for her granola bar. She was hungry (and granola was good for you don't you know). "Well you and Gabriella are really fantastic together, so I don't know what she's talking about." She'd put two and two together enough to know that they were dating-- not just dating, but were more or less East High's It couple. They both fell silent then, after Troy muttered a bashful 'thanks' and the car ride progressed on.

See, her house was sort of out of the way and all. Unlike many of her peers that were just around the corner, you had to take this one road that seemed to stretch on for ages (Heat Stroke Avenue-- as she'd lovingly come to refer to it) before coming upon the small settlement of new homes, one of which was her own. And really, it embraced New Mexico at its finest. Long stretches of flat land, a few cactuses, brilliant sunsets. Today was one of those days when the day was starting to fall into night, and the sun was setting and the sky was exploding into a plethora of colors-- from purple to deep red to dark orange to everything in between-- that as they were driving down that Heat Stroke Avenue she couldn't help but let what she was thinking slip onto her lips.

"Beautiful." She whispered to herself, but it didn't go unnoticed by Troy. Suddenly she realized the car was slowing down, and they were pulling off the black pavement and onto the dusty stretch of land. As clouds of it billowed on the sides of the car she looked at Troy with a questioning (and quite frankly, worried) expression. "Er-- what are we doing?" she asked, as the truck bumped around over rocks and dips in the land.

He merely smirked as he continue to maneuver the vehicle. "Stopping, obviously."

Rolling her eyes, the vehicle finally came to a stop, the trunk now facing the setting sun. "But why are we stopping?"

"To see the sunset, obviously."

She glared in his direction. "If you use the word obviously one more time, I will stick a fingernail into your eye," she managed to call after him, as he stepped out of the car and walked towards the back. He stopped taking her insults and threats seriously a month ago, and it was really starting to irritate her. She had no choice but to step out of the car herself, and join him where he was sitting on the truck-- climbing over the ledge and finding herself a nice spot on the metal surface.

"Bolton, you're crazy. You know that?"

Instead of answering, he just grinned away the comment and fixed his attention on the sky before them. The two once again sat in silence, although not of the uncomfortable sort. He didn't know what had possessed him to stop the car, but she seemed so interested in it-- and he couldn't resist the view of the sun setting here. In truth, he was just looking for a break. Everything seemed to be closing in on him, and his Dad was doing a brilliant job of reminding him that he had a game coming up against Hillside-- and Damien, for that matter. The ever impending decision that he had to soon pick a college where he'd spend the next four years of his life was also upon him. The fact that he had to do really well in the musical-- yes, that too was on his shoulders. And more importantly, him and Gabriella's six month anniversary was coming up fast-- and he knew that then, if at any time, was when he finally had to use the big L-word.

So you can see that stopping just for the sake of seeing a sunset was a welcomed experience.

Before they knew it, the sun had dipped under the horizon and a brilliant set of stars hung above them both-- like diamonds fixated in a blanket of night. "Somehow, the stars seem to shine brighter in New Mexico," Clara commented off-handedly, breaking the silence.

He chuckled, laying himself out on the bed of the truck. "Does it make you miss home?" he asked, referring to wherever Clara had first come from-- none of which he was very sure of.

"Oh, no, as long as you have stars you never miss home," she replied, pausing for only a fraction of a second. "I mean, they're the same everywhere you know? When I was younger, I'd er-- well I'd make up my own constellations. For moments I really wanted to remember, I'd give them stupid names too like... Fountain Majoris. (For this one time I fell into a fountain when I was 9.) So now I can look at them from anywhere, find my constellations, and feel at home." Her eyes slid back onto Troy, and suddenly she felt a whole lot more embarassed than she'd started out. The point hadn't ever been to find the exact constellation (because that would have been almost impossible), the point was to feel like you could find it. "Er-- pretty lame, huh?" She ended, trying to cover up her enthusiasm.

He propped himself up on his elbows. "No-- not lame at all. I could just never manage it," he joked. Again, the mood was back to normal.

Despite the fact that it was him that had chosen to stop here, he couldn't feel a little-- a little odd. In the pit of his stomach, an unfamiliar feeling was starting to nibble at him. Guilt. He'd been feeling guilty ever since he'd told Clara about Damien (well, in a manner of speaking), and had promised that he'd tell Gabriella about him the very next day but when it suddenly came to facing her-- he just couldn't. Now he was starting to feel like that again, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Nevertheless, the night was perfect and he wouldn't let whatever strange thing had come over him ruin it.

From his position, his eyes were level with her sneakers-- an entity in itself that was starting to fascinate him. They were pretty disgusting really. Ripped and torn and written all over. Stained and broken and he was pretty sure you could see a piece of her sock. He gave a short laugh as he listed off all the things that were wrong with them in his head before gesturing to her feet. "Bryant, you need new sneakers. If you don't mind me saying, these are beyond repair."

She seemed horrified at the notion, and swept a hand up against her heart dramatically before bending down and petting her feet. Tilting her face upwards at him she rolled her eyes, her little display over. "Never, my sneakers are offended you would suggest something like that," she replied with a little smile on her face. "If you have to know anything about me Bolton, is that my sneakers are my soulmates. They have been with me through bruises and broken arms and puberty and-- well, everything. My parents hate them, for the most part. But every time I go get new sneakers (after the other ones fall apart) I get the same kind. They just don't get our relationship," she paused, biting her lip in thought. "sometimes they're the only thing that make sense." At the last comment, her expressioned darkened a bit and she straightened back up to a normal sitting position.

He took a long hard look at her, and realizing that everything she'd just said was serious-- he nodded his head slowly. "I understand the feeling..." he trailed off, awkwardly. Unlike her, it would seem he couldn't make any situation seem less uncomfortable. "I mean-- I know what you mean. But sometimes it's alright for things not to make sense, because sometimes that's when things come together the most-- when they do make sense." The statement was the most honest he could muster, because in truth-- the year that Gabriella arrived at East High, nothing had ever made less sense. Yet at the end of it, he knew more about himself, and his life was finally what he'd wanted. Well, right? At least he thought it was. He disliked the doubt that seemed to be creeping into his life lately.

That said, he hopped out of the car and she followed after him. It was time to go home, and though neither of them were aware of it-- home really wasn't such a distant notion after all.

A/N:-/ (-protects Troy from pitchforks-) Up next... zee party.