Eleventh Grade Social
Chapter #2: Sharpay's Pre
Disclaimer: Congratulate me. I've just won the rights to HSM in a chook raffle! NOT.
A.N: I have succumbed. I have joined the Dark Side. (Their cookies are delicious, by the way.) I have written an AU HSM fic. Usually I'm rather reserved about these things. But now I've written one. Those are awesome cookies.
At the high school dance
Where you can find romance
Maybe, it might be love!
'We Go Together' – Grease
Gabi woke up at 9:00 on the Saturday of the social, feeling pleasantly refreshed. The night before, she'd gone to see The Dark Knight with Taylor for the umpteenth time. Now, she had a day of relaxation and self-pampering to look forward to. Homework and assignments, for once, could wait until tomorrow. Gabi took a quick shower, just long enough to shave her legs and underarms, and wash her hair. Then she ran a bath, and poured aromatherapy oils into it – she was going to smell like lavender and chocolate.
No matter that they were her two favourite scents in the entire world. Of course. And there was no way she wanted to smell nice for Troy. None whatsoever. At all. Don't listen to Taylor, all right? She'd be lying to you. Gabi just wanted to smell nice because she liked to smell nice. Duh.
Anyway. She clambered out of the bath only when the water turned cold. It was now 11:00. If this seems late to you, please remember that she had also had breakfast and talked to her mother before she started her beautifying routine. Since it was late June, it was perfectly all right to wander around the house in shorts and a t-shirt, only Gabi didn't own any button-up shirts – except school blouses – that had short sleeves. So she wore her denim miniskirt – ooh, if Troy could see her in that – shut up, Taylor – and a cream-coloured silk blouse with three-quarter sleeves that she usually wore when she went to see Sharpay act. Having forgotten to arrange an appointment for professional hair, nails and make-up, Gabi had to do it all herself. (Sharpay and Taylor would have killed her, had they known.) Gabi did her fingernails now, filing them all back to a uniform length, while admiring the patchwork elephants floating past her window.
No, not really. Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Actually she was singing along to the radio.
Once her nails were all the same length, Gabi pushed the cuticles back, painted over the tips in white, to define them, and then she went over the entire nail in pale, watery pink. Two coats of clear varnish sealed the deal, and she went on to do her toenails in practically the same way. She had to get rid of the red polish, first, but when that was done she clipped them all back – she didn't want to scratch herself with them, you see, as her shoes were fairly toe-confining – then went over them with the pale pink. Instead of two coats of clear varnish on top, the first coat was clear but sparkly, and the very top coat was clear. Making sure that nothing got mussed up was time- consuming – or rather, correcting the mussed-up nails was time consuming, so it was lunch-time when Gabi finished.
After lunch, she took off her skirt and blouse, and put on her dress instead. Gabi adored her dress. It was a snowy-white, with sky-blue spaghetti straps and lacy hem. It contrasted well with her café au lait skin, and the neckline wasn't drastic (like Sharpay's cotton-candy-pink confection), and nor was the backline (like Taylor's bright red flapper dress). It was just … nice. And Gabi felt really pretty in it, which was the whole point. Plus, she thought as she checked herself out in her bedroom mirror, the hem fell to mid-thigh, effectively showing off her bronzed legs. Sharpay would kill for a tan like Gabi's.
The next thing on Gabi's to-do list was her make-up. Gabi knew that her best features were her chocolate-y eyes, so she outlined them in subtle kohl, and, daringly, applied false eye-lashes. Luckily she managed not to look like Olive Oil from Popeye, which was a relief. Martha had tried them once, and for Martha the falsies had decided not to work, poor girl. On the other hand, they had fallen out within a week. Gabi blinked and winked at herself for a few minutes, enjoying the effect. – Would Troy melt, or what? – I said shut up, Taylor. – Foundation, concealer, and a hint of blush were applied next. Gabi enjoyed making her freckles vanish. Next came peach lipstick, which completed her make-up. Finally, and gingerly, Gabi attacked her hair with a curling wand, giving herself Shirley Temple ringlets. Well, she had to do something to counteract her daring (for Gabi, at least) hemline, didn't she?
Gabi opened her wardrobe and looked at her shoe-rack. There were her open-toed heels, four inches high, pale blue and glittery. How lucky was she that she had managed to find a clutch to match? Which sent a reminder through her head like a fire alarm – she needed to pack said bag. Cell phone, check. Wallet, check. Lipstick, check. Breath-mints, check. She was all set.
In bare feet, but carrying her shoes and her clutch, Gabi went downstairs. Predictably, Isabella Montez, Gabi's mother, went crazy with the camera. Gabi was photographed in front of the piano, beside it, on the piano bench, in front of the fireplace, on the couch, in front of the hall table, on the threshold of the front door, coming down the front steps, getting into the car …
… and getting out of the car at Sharpay's house for the pre.
"Mami, I'm going to need at least some memory on that camera for at the actual dance, you know," Gabi giggled as they walked up the Evans's front steps.
Sharpay was standing in the ballroom, by the bar, in hot pink (how predictable). She looked stunning. The dress was strapless, with a ra-ra miniskirt, but –
"Are those real diamonds?" Gabi demanded, pointing at Sharpay's choker and stud earrings.
Sharpay grinned and nodded. "Ohmigod, your hair! Gabi, you look fantastic!"
Which was basically all that conversation consisted of, anytime someone new entered the room. Everyone already there had to admire her dress, shoes, make-up, hair, and bag, and she had to admire the dresses, etc, of everyone already there. Sharpay had invited quite a large number of people, so this process ended up taking nearly half an hour once nearly everyone had arrived.
Martha and Kelsi stood by the buffet, carefully eating Doritos – they didn't want to mess up their mouth-make-up. Gabi and Taylor continued their dissection of The Dark Knight, while Sharpay flitted around, talking to her study buddies and her drama friends in equal measure. Her parents scurried around taking photos. Sharpay had gone all out with this pre. The Top 20 blared from an expensive speaker system. There was even a bar-tender at the bar in the corner of the room. He was only serving Coke and other sodas, but still.
"Is it a bad thing that my heels are killing my feet already?" Kelsi muttered to Martha.
"Probably not," Martha told her, feeling quite smug. She was used to heels, being a dancer. Kelsi, Martha felt, ought to have been used to heels, because she was so tiny, but Kelsi wasn't a slave of fashion like … oh, let's say Sharpay. Kelsi's chocolate-brown empire-line cocktail dress wasn't haute couture, in fact it was she'd found it in an op-shop, but it suited her. Not that she'd found it in an op-shop, the cut of it flattered her. Martha, being no skinny little pixie, had had rather a job of it trying to find a dress. She'd ended up with a cream-coloured shift-dress that hid her thighs.
"Where's Ryan?" Taylor asked a passing Sharpay.
"One of his friends is also holding a pre," Sharpay answered. "I think it's the one with frizzy hair – Chad, I think his name is."
"Oh," said Taylor.
Gabi made a mental note to ask Sharpay on Monday if it bothered her that her brother would rather go to his friend's pre than hers. On the other hand, she thought, she couldn't blame him; in this room of girls Ryan Evans would have stuck out like a sore thumb.
Since the dance was scheduled to start at 7:30, people started to leave – carpool, as a matter of fact – at 7:00. Gabi, Taylor, Kelsi and Martha all, miraculously, ended up in Sharpay's mother's Merc, so, considering they never lost each other, there was no mad rush to find each other in the throng of their classmates.
Lava Springs Golf Course had a function centre, and that was where the social was being held. But first, everyone had to mingle on the terrace.
"They must be still setting up," Ryan told the girls as he dragged his friends over.
They arranged themselves in a circle, except the shape made was barely worthy of being called such. Taylor was standing on one side of Gabi, Troy on the other. Taylor elbowed her. "Say hi," she hissed.
A.N: OK, so not the actual dance just yet, but that would have made the chapter ridiculously long. Next chapter, the actual dance. Reviews are always appreciated.