A/N: Sorry for the delay, I have plenty of excuses that I won't bore you guys with.
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The Problem with Ryan
Chapter 18: She wanted to help.
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Gabriella was looking for Ryan.
Troy's hands were sweaty as he tried to grip the tray of food in the hot kitchen. Feeling that unsettling feeling churn into an uncomfortable nervous lump in his stomach, he took the tray as firmly as he could and went out of the sweltering kitchen to give the orders to one of his assigned tables.
Gabriella was looking for Ryan.
It was like a repeating mantra in his head. He didn't know what to make of it but he knew Gabriella actively seeking the blond was bad news. She told him that she wanted to help him no matter what. It didn't matter if Troy—the friend she supposedly wanted to help—didn't want her help.
Gabriella was looking for Ryan. Oh fuck. The tray slipped out his hands, he halted mid-step, catching it in time, the plates slid around the tray, clanking against one another. He felt awash with relief as he held the tray and saw that nothing was broken, disaster averted. He glanced at the head waiter, who looked back at him with narrowed eyes. Troy gave him an awkward smile before turning his head quickly and zipping off to his assigned table.
Plastering on a fake bright smile, he placed the dishes in front of each person at the table as he thought about how his ex-girlfriend was trying to ruin his life.
Troy knew Gabriella well. She would never hurt him intentionally. She had a kind heart. But he also knew that she was a girl and she had this stupid romantic notion that everything could be fixed by soul-searching conversations and heart-wrenching confessions.
Life just didn't work that way.
Normally it wouldn't bother him if Gabriella talked to Ryan. Why would it? Ryan was one of Gabriella's good friends. But Troy knew that Gabriella going out of her way to look for Ryan wasn't because she wanted to have a friendly chat. Not after the way Troy had been avoiding her, and not after she had been determined to make him happy after their break-up. She had this hero-complex and it was starting to annoy him.
"Have a good meal," he said automatically, and he didn't even hear the people at the table say their 'thank you's.'
He had this horrible feeling that something wasn't right. Glancing up, he looked over at the entrance of the restaurant. Spotting blond hair—Troy's heart started pounding and pounding against his chest, his throat was getting that scratchy feeling, and the tray in his hand was slipping—as he watched Ryan Evans walk right into the restaurant.
Ryan Evans and that same guy with the jet-black hair Troy remembered from before.
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Sometimes she felt like she was wasting her time planning. But those thoughts came very few and very far in-between.
She had big dreams just like anyone else who was talented and rich and beautiful. She understood how things worked out in life. She knew how to twist ways in her favor. It was what she did best. Other than singing, acting, and above all, shopping, of course.
Sharpay knew her strengths.
And although she didn't want to admit it, she knew her weaknesses too. Sometimes she had urges and wants that in the end she found she never actually wanted. It was habit, demanding what she wanted when she wanted it. Whether it was importing food from other states, flying over one pair of shoes first-class from Europe, or even getting her nails done in the middle of class—she will get it. No matter what.
So, obviously, getting Troy should have been no problem. But then there was Gabriella, and then—quelling her nausea, Sharpay's face contorted as she thought about their relationship: Troy and Gabriella. An item.
And let us get this clear, Sharpay could be disgusted, angry, upset, even rude (some of the time)—but never jealous. So, naturally, she had only tried to rectify the situation, even going as far as getting Troy a job at Lava Springs. But then her plans fell apart. Her schemes were not successful.
She wanted to blame Ryan. She did blame Ryan, initially. But she could never stay mad at her brother, and really, it wasn't his fault.
As much as it pained her to admit, her schemes were just not good enough. She didn't plan enough, organize enough, and strategize enough. Frankly, being with Troy had in fact let her slip, control wise. She let her guard down. Instead of insuring Troy was hers she had already started planning duets and bought matching outfits.
And when she was with Troy, she felt strange. Could she call it affection? She wasn't sure. It couldn't have been love.
But then, honestly, she didn't know what love was like. If love was like getting the right shade of pink stilettos to match her skirt, then she figured having Troy on her arm would be love. Wouldn't it? Obviously, she thought. Because Troy being her boyfriend would complete her all alluring image: Beauty and the perfect man. What was better than that?
And now, with Troy single, it should have been easy getting Troy to be hers. But for some reason, it wasn't, and it made Sharpay confused and furious and upset.
It was a strange feeling, wanting something so much—that burning in your chest sparked by determination to—to win.
She just wanted to win.
That satisfaction of finally getting what she wanted was overwhelming at times.
And then she had this lovely image of warm summer winds, a yacht, and her and Troy looking out into the ocean. She just wanted to be happy. And if she was happy then her brother needed to be happy. Because there was no way he was being a third wheel. And she secretly hoped he would find someone that he loved, because she really did care about her brother.
So, as life had a way of doing, things changed, stuff had to be shifted around. Schemes originally hatched needed to be re-hatched again and again.
She decided that maybe making her brother happy first would make her happy in some strange alternating way. She had no clue about Karma. All she thought was why not get Plan B rolling while Plan A was still in progress? If she was having trouble in the Troy department, it could be paused as she dealt with getting Ryan a boyfriend. Then when summer rolled around, hopefully, everything will be resolved. She will have her man while Ryan will have his and then they could all ride into the sunset together, preferably, on a yacht.
It made perfect sense to her.
So, she made a call to a guy that maybe Ryan didn't quite like (but will get to like later on, she hoped). And she didn't show up to pick her brother up as she was supposed to. She knew Ryan would be angry with her but sacrifices needed to be made (and he'll thank her later).
As she leaned back on her large bed, covered with a fluffy shimmering pink comforter, her fuzzy slippers kicked off at the edge, she smiled.
She was determined to make her brother happy.
She knew her plans would work out in the end.
At the sound of cheery ring tone, she looked unsurprised, because really, as a schemer she expected the phone to ring. She watched as her cell phone screen lit up in bright pink. She felt a strange guilt crawl its way into her chest before she squashed it with a deep breath. Opening her cell phone with an effortless flip, she said:
"Hello."
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The cold cut through Ryan's jacket, hitting his chest through the fibers of his sweater and sliding against his skin as Michael gazed at him. It was an odd feeling because he felt the heat of his anger burning in his chest.
I can't believe she did this.
But he had to let go of his anger, reluctantly accepting that it wasn't her he should be blaming. He could only blame himself. She didn't know about Michael's ways. She didn't know Michael was planning on using him for some twisted plan with Mr. Banes, Michael's father.
Ryan knew if he had just told his sister as soon as he found out, his sister would have hurt the other boy in ways Ryan was afraid to imagine.
At the car window, he saw Michael looking at him, silently watching him. Ryan didn't know what to make of his expression.
Involuntarily, Ryan felt his eyes narrowing, his fists clenching, and his lips tightening. He forced himself to keep calm. Unlike his sister, Ryan was better at controlling his temper. He was better at pushing his feelings down, down, until it remained simmering just underneath his thoughts. Until his anger was nothing but a low hum in his ears and he could put less effort into ignoring it.
"Hey," Michael said, "I heard you needed a ride." The car door opened and he was stepping out.
"I wonder who gave you that little piece of information," Ryan muttered to himself.
"Come on," Michael said. Whether he heard Ryan or not, Ryan wasn't sure, he just smiled at the blond, putting his hand out invitingly.
There was silence for a long moment. A long moment where Ryan stood stiffly, his face expressionless, and his eyes averted from Michael's gaze.
"It's getting cold," Michael said, seemingly undeterred by Ryan's cold attitude. He just kept smiling, and kept talking as if nothing was wrong.
It drove Ryan crazy.
"And your school," Michael added, glancing at the empty dark parking lot, "It kinda gives me the creeps."
You're sorta creepy. Ryan thought. He knew it would've been a childish response, but he still had a small smirk as he thought it.
Instead, he said, "You don't have to do that." Polite. His voice sounded completely detached compared to how he really felt. He had this instinct to hurt the other boy, but it wasn't in his nature to be so vengeful. Honestly, he just wanted Michael out of his life. Ryan wanted to forget he knew him. But that was hard to do when Michael was the son of his father's business partner and their moms played golf together regularly.
Ryan knew he had to maintain appearances. You couldn't be rude to people in your social circle, no matter how much you despise them.
"I want to," Michael said. His green eyes glinted in the darkening light. Ryan looked up and saw dark clouds covering the entire sky, everything around him had long shadows and the street lights still hadn't turned on.
"I can walk," Ryan responded. He shivered a little as the wind picked up but he held his ground. He had his cell phone in his bag. He felt the outline of it on the front flap of his messenger bag. He planned on calling his sister as soon as he distanced himself from the other boy.
"Walk?" Michael had an incredulous look on his face. Then he laughed, "Funny Ryan, I like your sense of humor." But by the time he had finished his sentence Ryan was already half way down the block.
Ryan was walking briskly, until he felt a tug on his arm and he was spun around. Forgetting politeness for a second, Ryan said, "What?" His voice was cutting and a little impatient, but Ryan drew the line at people pulling on him. He felt uncomfortable with Michael gazing down at him, his dark hair framing his pale face, cheeks a pink hue, and his breath coming out in puffs of white in the cold air.
"Wait a minute," Michael panted. Then he sucked in a breath, "Jeez," he said to himself, still out of breath. He looked down when Ryan tugged his arm away from him. Then he looked at Ryan, who was gazing uncertainly back at him, "I never had to run for anything before," Michael said.
The soft way Michael was looking at him, it unnerved Ryan. He didn't want Michael to look at him like that. It made Ryan's anger fade a few degrees more than it should. It made Ryan really confused.
"You okay?" Michael said, staring at him with a curious expression.
"Dandy." Ryan said dully, without really thinking. Michael looked at him in surprise. And Ryan bereted himself, he was showing too much of his feelings. He had to tone down his sarcasm.
"Come on," Michael said with the same frustratingly bright smile on his face, "It's getting cold, and it'll be easy for me just to drop you home, don't worry."
Ryan knew it would be easy. He wasn't stupid. And he also knew he couldn't stand outside his school with Michael staring him down while it got darker and darker and colder and colder…
Ryan hesitated, and then he sighed quietly, relenting. "Okay," he said.
Michael's eyes brightened. They walked to his car together.
Getting into the convertible, Ryan sunk into the leather seat at the passenger side. It was warm and comfortable, and he felt all his muscles relax over the soft leather.
Then the light was turned on and the brightness inside the car hurt Ryan's eyes. Maybe the brightness was for the best. Ryan thought it would keep him alert and acutely aware of Michael's presence.
Like the fact that Michael's arm had swung around the back of Ryan's seat as he backed his car out of the parking lot entrance. Ryan unconsciously sunk further in his seat, away from Michael's touch.
Ryan felt restless. Remaining quiet, he glanced outside and saw himself in the side mirror, red nosed and grouchy looking.
"So, how was school?" Michael's voice cut through the heavy silence so suddenly that Ryan jerked slightly in his seat.
"It was okay, I guess," he said, gaze still on the running street out the window.
"I was a little surprised you sister called me," Michael said, glancing at Ryan briefly.
"She's full of surprises," Ryan muttered into the glass. He could see Michael's reflection on the window, his pale fingers tapping on the steering wheel, and the flash of his teeth as he laughed at Ryan's less than appreciating remark about his sister.
"Yeah, I actually have a surprise for you," Michael said.
Ryan swallowed thickly, "Surprise? What sort of surprise?" He said, watching Michael's reflection closely. Michael's lips curved into a smile while his eyes remained on the road ahead of him.
"You'll see," was Michael's only answer.
"I'll see," Ryan said slowly. Ryan turned in his seat to look directly at the other male. His blue eyes were boring into Michael, urging him to fucking explain because this was not what Ryan had planned for his Friday evening.
Michael glanced back at Ryan briefly before doing a double-take at Ryan's stare, and then he chuckled, "Relax, Ryan, it'll be fun, promise."
"I'd rather you take me home, as in directly," Ryan said, "Right now," he added, as if adding it on to a list of requirements.
"Come on, it's Friday," Michael said as a way of explanation. To Ryan, an explanation of nothing.
I know what fucking day of the week it is. Thank you.
Ryan remained quiet. Staring outside the window, he pressed his head against the cold glass and willed some more patience. Inhaling deeply, he quietly let out a breath, and then he turned around to face the other boy again.
"Michael, I really want to just go home, okay?" Ryan said sincerely, pushing his urge to lash out. He felt so tied up. He felt knots along his shoulders and back. He didn't want to play these social games his sister was so good at. He hated being fake and hiding his true emotions. Yet, he also knew that if made Michael upset, who knew what he may do in anger or what he may pass on to his father. Ryan didn't know how it may affect his father's relations with Mr. Banes and how that in turn might affect his business.
"We're here," Michael said brightly.
Soon the car was rolling to a stop. Ryan realized immediately where they were. He could tell by the green and black marble lining of the walls, the dark glass showing nothing but the shapes of people and the bright chandelier lights inside the interior.
It was the restaurant Ryan and Michael had their first date in.
Ryan had hoped it had been a first and only ordeal but as he watched Michael pulling into a spot in the restaurant's parking lot he figured it wasn't going to be one anymore.
"Michael," Ryan began but Michael interrupted.
"Before you say anything," Michael smiled slyly as if he knew what the other was going to say, "I just wanted to mention that this is just a date, a couple of hours for me to woo you," Ryan almost jumped when he felt Michael's fingers graze over his hand lying in between the driver's and passenger's seat. Michael chuckled, "Jumpy much," he teased.
"Much," Ryan muttered to himself. He looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed. He didn't know why but something didn't feel right about being near the dark-haired boy, glinting green eyes, and too ready smile. But Ryan said, "Okay," pushing his feelings down again, like he was so used too. He figured if all he had to do was go along with this 'date' and then he was free, then fine. He could handle that.
Because Ryan knew once he got home he was telling his sister everything about Michael.
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"Sharpay?"
When Sharpay answered her phone she expected Ryan's voice sprinting through the line, peeved, upset, or maybe even angry. She planned for his begging her to take him home, she planned for his complaints.
She did not, however, expect Gabriella's more high pitched voice to filter through the line.
Maybe that'll teach her not to pick up her cell without checking the screen to see who was actually calling her.
"Sharpay?" Sharpay heard Gabriella's worried voice echo. "Sharpay? Are you there?"
"What do you want?" Sharpay said, after her momentary lapse in sense—she almost showed how caught off guard she was.
"I-I just wanted—you see I tried—" Gabriella was stuttering.
"Just spit it out, Montez, I don't have all day," Sharpay drawled, heaving a sigh just to make sure the other girl knew just how much she was bothering her.
"Ryan isn't answering his phone," Gabriella stated, full of force. Sharpay smirked. If only people knew the seemingly innocent-sweet voiced Gabriella could be so commanding, maybe they wouldn't talk so much about Sharpay being so 'unjustly' rude to the other girl.
"So?" Sharpay said, "I don't care if he's avoiding your calls."
She heard Gabriella let out a breath, probably in frustration, maybe even in aggravation before she said, "But I called him three times, and he would tell me not to call him or—or something," she sounded really worried. Sharpay glanced at the clock and noticed how late it was, it almost ten at night. She quickly sat up on her bed, listening more intently to Gabriella. "I just feel like there's something wrong," Gabriella finished.
"Well," Sharpay said after a moment, "I'm sure it's because he's on a date." All the while she felt a string of worry winding up in her belly, watching the minute morph into the next on her digital clock. She hated to even think it but Gabriella was right. Ryan always answered his cell phone. Especially if the person calling was one of his close friends, even though Sharpay didn't want to admit Gabriella was.
"A date?" Gabriella sounded surprised.
Or not a close friend.
Sharpay reveled in privileged information. "Oh? He didn't tell you?" She sounded deceivingly innocent. "Ryan has a boyfriend," she revealed sweetly.
"A boyfriend?" Gabriella repeated, "But I thought," Sharpay listened closely but Gabriella didn't continue. Met with nothing but the drone of background noise and Gabriella's soft breaths, Sharpay frowned.
"Thought what?" Sharpay prompted.
"Nothing," Gabriella said, quick and forgotten, before she continued, "Just tell Ryan I called when he comes back."
"No promises," Sharpay replied. Without waiting for Gabriella's response she hung up on the other girl.
She had more important things to think about.
Looking at her cell phone, Sharpay felt nervous as the worry in the back of her mind, prickling her stomach, threatened to overwhelm her. The grip on her phone tightened before she quickly flipped it open to call her brother.
As each ring passed, slowly, much to Sharpay's irritation, she ignored the worry seizing her throat and causing her to breathe carefully.
Then she waited.
And, oh, was she mad as hell when all she got was his voicemail.
x x x TBC x x x
A/N: I hope you guys liked this chapter! The chapters after this are the parts I've been waiting to write since I thought up this story. Finally.