AN: Here is another dose of nostalgia for those of us who can't/won't/don't grow up. Enjoy and leave a review!

Gabriella dropped her luggage and wrapped her arms around Ryan. He hugged her tightly, lifting her slightly off of the ground before releasing. "Gabby!" he said, kissing her on the cheek. He grabbed her suitcase, and she picked up her carry on. "How was your flight?"

"Crying baby. I swear, that's the best birth control," she joked.

"Uh oh," Ryan said, "Is there something we need to talk about?" He put her bags into the trunk of his grey sedan. Gabriella just laughed in response and hopped into the car. Ryan knew that she was single and had not so much as had a date recently.

As they drove out of the airport, they exchanged pleasantries and Gabriella asked about Ryan's boyfriend, Mark. Last year, they had moved in together, and Gabriella was staying in their guest room for the trip. She reminded him that she didn't want to impose, but he insisted that she was more than welcome.

"So, do you need any help getting things set up for tomorrow?" She knew that Ryan was having a little too much fun planning the reunion, and probably had an entire binder dedicated to the event. He was also overly particular and would insist on being there to oversee everything.

"That would be just wonderful. You know, so many people volunteered to help last month, but then had sudden changes in plans," he said, shaking his head. Ryan began rattling off the things on his to do list. Apparently, making the welcome bags was on their plan of fun activities this evening.

"Is there going to be a big turn out?" Gabriella asked, feigning general curiousness.

"About one hundred twenty people out of our graduating class of three hundred thirty-six," he paused, waiting to answer the question that Gabriella was really asking, "Troy said he's coming."

Gabriella swallowed hard and nodded. "And Taylor?" Her voice sounded high to her own ears, but she hoped Ryan didn't notice.

Ryan smiled softly. He definitely noticed. "She's coming, too. Chad, Jason and Martha, Zeke and his family, Kelsi, and Sharpay, of course."

Gabriella asked about each person in turn, and Ryan rattled off the details he knew. It seemed like he had miraculously kept in touch with everyone. That, or he was the godfather of social media, which seemed a little more likely. For most people, a lot could be garnered from online profiles, but she was not part of that crowd. After her breakup with Troy, it was just too much to handle, and she deleted her online presence. It wasn't like she had time for friends anyway. As Ryan continued talking, her mind wandered, creating dozens of crazy scenarios of how her reunion with Troy would pan out.

Chad bounced his knee under the table, his nerves growing out of control. When he sent the message to Taylor, he didn't expect her respond. He definitely wasn't expecting her to suggest meeting for lunch once she arrived in Albuquerque. His thoughts were a jumble. What time is it? He was as anxious for her to arrive as students were when they waited for the final bell on the last day of school. Chad's knee hit the bottom of the table, jarring the silverware with a loud metallic clang. He wiped his sweaty palms on his knees and kept them there in an order to still his movements. The bell above the door sounded, and he looked up to see Taylor enter the diner. She glanced around the space quickly before finding him. Meeting his eyes, she smiled broadly, her cheeks round and high.

Even with his hands on his knees, the bouncing started again. Taylor was beautiful, as always. She wore her hair differently now. It circled around her head in tight black curls, framing her face. Her smile was wide, with nude lips and bright teeth. Excitement was clear in her dark eyes. Taylor was never one to be nervous.

When she got to the booth, she hesitated. Neither of them knew what to do. Chad wanted to wrap her in a hug, but it had been years. Maybe that would be too much. A handshake would be too formal. Taylor made the decision for him, just giving him a small awkward wave and hello before sliding into the opposite side of the booth.

"I haven't been here in years!" She spoke with a sense of wonder as she looked around the diner again. "I even checked online to make sure it still existed."

"Oh, you know this town. We never let anything go," Chad said without thinking. He moved to correct himself, "Well, I mean, except you."

"Except me," she repeated quietly. "I wasn't the only one though." Her tone changed quickly, changing the direction of the conversation. "We all scattered."

"True enough. Ryan and I are the only ones left in town," Chad said. The waitress came by, taking their drink orders. As Taylor looked over the menu, Chad searched for something to talk about. She used to be the person that he told everything to, and now he was about to talk about the weather.

Thankfully, she spoke first. "I like your hair short. You look very… grown up," she said, placing her menu to the side.

Chad rubbed his hair across the top of his head nervously, as if he needed to remember what his haircut was. "Thanks. That's the look I was going for." She chuckled, not knowing how serious he was. Since he got his job on the coaching staff, he had been keeping it shaved short, just the beginning of curls growing. Most of his players were going for the long hair and man buns, and it made him self conscious of his own.

"So, give me all the details, Coach," Taylor said. Chad smiled, and told her about his team. He loved playing for the Redhawks in college, and coaching was all that he had imagined. He was an assistant now, but he could move up when the position opened. He'd rather wait for the spot at U of A than go anywhere else. Taylor wasn't surprised by any of this. He always had clear goals. Hoops all the way. From the expressions on his face, coaching made him even happier than playing.

As she expected, he volleyed the question back to her when he finished. She smiled and showed him her cell phone. A picture of her daughter, Adrie, was on the screen. It was the picture from the beginning of her summer soccer league. "She takes up most of my free time."

Chad smiled at the photo before returning his gaze to Taylor. "I heard through the grapevine that you were a mom. What's her name?"

"Adrie. She's four."

"They let four year olds play soccer? The ball is almost as big as she is!" He laughed heartily.

Taylor laughed. "Don't tell her that!" Taylor talked about Adrie easily, describing her bright personality and endless energy. She didn't mention Jordan, but Chad checked her bare ring finger. He could put two and two together.

When their food came, they changed topics, discussing her job as a corporate lawyer. Chad found her just as fascinating and driven as she had always been. He told her as much. Taylor blushed, pushing her hair back behind her ear. Over a shared slice of pie, the last of the awkwardness faded, and Chad found himself smiling more than he had in years.

Troy resisted the urge to knock and opened the door of his childhood home. He knew if he did, he would get the lecture from his mom about always being welcome, or if he stopped by more often, and so on. He announced his presence, and his mother called from the kitchen. He followed the sound of her voice to see her placing a casserole dish on the counter. Lucille quickly removed her oven mitt to give him a hug. As always, she held on a little too long.

"Good to see you, too," he said, chuckling. Lucille let him go and stepped back, leaving her hands on his shoulders.

"What's all this?" she asked, brushing a hand against the hair on his chin. He'd let it grow out just past being stubble, less than a week. He put his hand over hers and brought it down, stepping away.

Lucille shook her head and returned to her cooking. "Your dad is outside. Go say hi," she encouraged.

Troy did as she asked, making his way to the back porch. He found his father in a deck chair drinking a light beer. "Hey," he greeted.

"Cooler is over there," Jack said, pointing. He had always preferred his beer on ice rather than from the fridge. "How was your flight?"

"No problems," Troy answered. He twisted off the top of the bottle, taking a large gulp before sitting in the chair across from his dad. "How was the season?"

"Knocked out in the third round of playoffs. We can't seem to get any further than that the last few years," Jack answered. He was still coaching at East High. In three years, he would be able to retire, but Troy doubted that he would. Coaching was his passion, and he would do it for as long as he was able. With so many years in at the school, his teaching schedule was light and he spent most of his days in the gym.

"How's that big kid from last year? Finally get him to start using his size?" Troy asked. Basketball was a safe conversation, unless it was his basketball career. Or lack thereof.

"Some. He's a great post now, but most of that is since he's still got a good six inches on everyone we play. If he gets against someone his own size, he's gonna have to step it up," he answered.

"No one will match him like that until college. Those coaches can handle it."

"Basketball talk already?" Lucille interrupted, poking her head outside. She rolled her blue eyes that matched Troy's. She told them that dinner was ready, and there would be no talk of basketball at the table.

With basketball not an acceptable topic, the conversation stuck to the superficial. As with most family gatherings these days, a significant amount of time was spent giving life updates and current events. Jack was coaching a select basketball team for the summer. Lucille joined a new book club with some of her friends. Troy's latest project was wrapping up, and the next one started in a week.

After the meal, Troy cleared the table and followed his mother back to the kitchen. Falling into an old routine, she washed and he dried the dishes. With Jack in another room, Lucille started to play hardball.

"Anyone special lately?" she asked, trying to act as though this question hadn't been burning in her mind for hours.

"No," Troy answered shortly. His mother gave him a hard look, and he buckled, offering more. "I do go out, Mom. But, just coffee or drinks. No one special." He said the last word mockingly.

Lucille noticed his teasing, and faked splashing the soapy water at him. "You'll see Gabriella at the reunion tomorrow and Saturday."

He nodded. Troy pushed the towel across the plate, thinking. His mother was always meddling in his love life. He used to think that it was because he spent so much time with Sharpay that she thought something was going on between them. Now he was more inclined to think it was just a thing that moms did.

"Have you talked to her lately?" Lucille asked, prodding. Having finished the dishes, she dried her hands and leaned back against the counter.

"No. Not since," he paused and tapped his right knee absently, "about seven years ago."

Lucille pursed her lips and looked thoughtfully at her son. "Does that make you nervous?"

Troy sighed. "Mom, I really don't want to talk about this right now," he protested.

"Fine," she said, "But, you will tell me after?" She put a hand on Troy's shoulder. Her voice was kind, and her hand was lightly patting him. His mom had been his rock his entire life, but they had grown increasingly closer since the end of his basketball career. What used to be the thing that bonded him to his dad now strained that relationship, and pushed him closer to his mother. As he healed after his ACL surgery at the start of his junior year, his mom camped out with him, watching trashy television and crappy horror movies. When he forced Gabriella away, she was there, too, listening to his heartbreak.

Wanting to make his mother happy, he said, "I'll think about it."

AN: Thanks for reading! :)