I like the beach.

A lot.

You can most definitely tell.

I also like toxic punch.

LISTEN TO WEEZER'S ISLAND IN THE SUN WHILE READING THIS!

June 8th

9:28 PM

The Evan's Livingroom

"C'mon, Troy. Just let go of her wrist." Ryan's words came slowly for an obviously tipsy Troy. The pulsating party slowed to watch the unfolding drama. "Did you hear me? Let. Go." Troy squinted and followed Ryan's mouth, but his distorted vision and manipulated inhibitions became too much for him to swallow. Sharpay struggled against Troy's tight grip once again.

"Make her dance with me." Troy slurred. His breath burned of an over-consumption of vodka and Kool-Aid. "Just one dance, Ice Queen." Sharpay scoffed and struggled again, gritting her teeth as Troy's grip violated her. "Come on, fag, make her dance with me."

Nobody called Ryan a fag.

Nobody.

And the rest of the evening had been crammed together in an unforgettable memory:

The sickening crack of Ryan's knuckles destroying Troy's nose. Troy's, bone-chilling cries of pain. The numerous shouts of, "Dude, I think you broke it!". The blood-stained carpet. The tiny party in the Evan's living room that had been transformed into an all-out brawl...

And most importantly, the look of horror and surprise that played out on Mr. and Mrs. Evan's faces after opening the front door...

June 20th

12:03 AM

Sharpay's Bedroom

Sharpay pulled her pink sheets tighter against her body. Though the New Mexico heat was unbearable at night, and though her windows were thrown open, letting in the light breeze of midnight, her blankets settled her anxiety somehow. Only twelve days after that disasterous night, she and Ryan were still on lock-down, courtesy of her parents.

And Troy Bolton.

She crossed her arms over her chest at the name. If it hadn't been for him, Sharpay's punishment wouldn't have been so heavy. If it wasn't for him, Sharpay would have been doing something more productive that summer than just lazing around, talking to Gabriella on the phone, and watching her TiVo'd episodes of American Idol. She tossed to her side on her bed, the oncoming breeze hitting her directly. As she was about to let her eyes flutter close and slip into sleep, the soft creak of her bedroom door opening yanked her up in bed.

"What are you doing?" She hissed to her brother. Sharpay heard the disturbing rustle of Ryan's backpack thrown over his shoulder and she noticed the alarming rate at which he was charging towards her bed. "No shoes on the comforter!" she whispered, a familiar fire igniting in her eyes. But all she got was a shoulder from Ryan as he leaned out of her window, a small smile creeping onto his face.

"Pack your bags."

"What?"

But once again, she was ignored. Ryan casually tossed his backpack out the window, and surprisingly, it didn't make a sound as it crashed to the ground. Sharpay scrambled out of bed and peered out her window, only to see a sight so surprising. And so relieving at the same time.

She flew out of bed, tossing shorts, tank tops, underwear, bathing suits... anything she could get her hands on, into an empty backpack, letting a feeling of freedom overtake her. Sharpay silently laughed and followed close behind Ryan as he shimmied down the trellis latched to the side of the house. "Ryan where are we going?" she whispered into the night. "Where are they taking us?"

"Sharpay? You're just going to have to wait and see."

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June 20th

12:06 AM

Troy's Convertible

Sharpay's surprised expression was still somewhat visible, even in the darkness of the night. Gabriella leaned against the closed doors of Troy's convertible, frantically waving to both Ryan and Sharpay as Troy tossed Ryan's bag into the back seat of the car. She pulled Sharpay into a hug and they both giggled. "We're going to have so much fun..."

But just over her shoulder, Sharpay spotted the sole definition of 'not fun'. She spotted Troy Bolton slamming his car door behind him, bringing his engine to life. "Gabriella, what is he..."

"Come on, before your parents catch you." Both girls scrambled into the car. Four seatbelts were fastened, four consciences were thrown out the car windows, and tons of excitement took the place of their worry. And even though Sharpay had no clue where they were taking her, even though the boy she hated was in the driver's seat, she was still able to disappear into the night with a smile on her face. (okay, start listening to Island in the Sun... NOW!)

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June 21st

9:56 AM

Troy's Convertible

South Padre Island, TX

Troy awkwardly pressed his knees together, to hopefully rid his urge to have to use the bathroom. He cursed himself for ever having that third cup of coffee at the BP and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, mindlessly progressing himself and his friends into the Texas sunrise. Ryan's head was tilted against the leather interior of his chair in the passenger's seat, Gabriella was curled into a tight ball in the backseat, and next to her, Sharpay's head rested in her arms, slumped over the car door.

His eyes lingered on Sharpay for a few extra seconds, examining her closely. Fluttering lashes, breezing blonde hair and all. Somewhere, lost in the sour attitude and over-dose of Chanel No. 15, was a girl that Troy really wanted to get to know better. Was that the reason why he had suggested inviting Ryan and Sharpay over Chad and Taylor? Because looking back, Troy had a negtive history with the Evans twins. Ryan wasn't so bad, but Sharpay...

Suddenly, Troy's foot slammed on the brakes, as he was a fraction of an inch of crashing into the car in front of them. He jerked forward in his seat, mercilessly dragging all of his friends out of various dreams and back into reality. Gabriella gave a tiny yawn. "What time is it?" the morning sun blazed, sending an exhausted feeling through all four of them.

Just in the corner of Troy's rearview mirror, Sharpay ran a hand through her tangling blonde hair, her mascara smudged, her sparkling brown eyes holding a profound tiredness. He watched her eyes gradually widen in surprise. "Oh, God. We're not in New Mexico anymore!"

"Sharpay, welcome to South Padre Island, Texas!" Gabriella threw her arms into the air without a care in the world, the sun kissing her forehead, the strong winds passing the open top combing through her hair. All Troy could do was laugh at her excitement, wonder why Sharpay didn't feel the same way, and take a sharp turn onto a smaller road.

"I'm dead meat." Sharpay whimpered, burying her face in her hands. Worry clouded her senses, only making her give up the opportunity to feel the sudden drop in temperature and taste the salt that threaded the atmosphere.

"We're all dead meat, Shar. So just live a little." Ryan assured her. "We'll worry about that... oh my gosh." Ryan gasped as the convertible slowed, no longer rolling over gravel, but on a smooth stretch of sand. Slowly, the thin blue line belted across the horizon grew into the roaring Atlantic Ocean. All Gabriella could do was cheer. Ryan was already ubuckling his seatbelt. Sharpay nervously wrung her hands. Troy added weight to the gas pedal in hopes of getting to the shore quickly.

It was the beginning of such a memorable summer day to some. A life-changing experience to others.

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June 21st

12:03 PM

South Padre Island Beach

It was odd for Sharpay, knowing that only 12 hours before, she was curled under her blankets, in a pit of despair, just waiting for summer to be over. Now she sat with her toes curled in the warm sand, Gabriella pouring endless gossip into her ear, the ocean just yards away. She noticed Troy Bolton being knocked around by waves, tossing a football around with her brother, and realized that he was partially to thank for this escape.

"...you know, drinking used to be a huge problem for Troy, Shar." Gabriella suddenly spilled.

Sharpay shrugged. Why should she care? She hated the guy... in a warm, you-make-me-feel-geeky kind of way. He may of brought her to this island in the sun, but at the same time, he was the reason she had to run away. The thought of East High's golden boy messing around with alcohol made her want to laugh, actually.

"What I mean is... it was a huge thing when we were dating. He was always drinking. There were plenty of times when I had to drag him home from parties to my place, and he'd be completely blasted. God, if his father had ever seen him the way I have..." A distant look took Gabriella's eyes. Sharpay stayed silent, mentally begging for more. "But he stopped drinking after almost failing his final exams, finally realizing what he was doing to himself."

Sharpay finally had the courage to speak. "Then how come he..."

"I really don't know why he drank at your party. It was so out of character for the new and improved Troy." Sharpay took a good look at Gabriella, a look of worry etched across her face. Troy Bolton's alcoholism had really taken a toll on her. But one last thing was tugging at the back of her mind...

"Gabriella? Why are you telling me all of this?"

She actually chuckled. "Isn't it obvious?"

Was it?

Sharpay looked to Ryan and Troy once more. She saw the way Troy's blue eyes squinted against the burning sun and the way he laughed openly when Ryan accidentally tripped.

"Why do you think he was so ansty do dance with you that night? Why do you think he practically begged me to convince Ryan to convince you to get away with us? Why do you..."

She understood, finally.

And it was about time.

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June 22nd

7:59 PM

South Padre Island Beach

Sharpay scratched at her irritated blonde hair, cursing the grainy, sandy, humid atmosphere. Occasionally, sand would fly out of her blonde locks, which were now wildly wavy and damp. Her pink lips felt tender from all of the salt water, and sand clung to her skin in a deathtrap. Eight hours on the beach in a completely different state was enough for her, when were they going to head home?

There were so many stars, though. She looked up from the worn leather interior of the backseat of Troy's convertible to see millions of stars that winked back. There were never this many in Albequerque. She sighed, tuning into Ryan's snoring in he passenger's seat and Gabriella's occasional whimper next to her.

Troy had disappeared hours ago, and everyone else had given up hope looking for him, knowing that he would be back sooner or later. But Sharpay found that she hadn't been able to sleep. She sat up and not-so-gracefully ambled over the side of the convertible. She walked. Aimlessly, helplessy, and with no control. The only aspect of the world that made sense in that night was the waves that rolled past her ankles, the mysteriously sweet smell of smoke just a few yards up the beach...

...Smoke?

Sharpay walked a little faster, billowimg smoke giving way to a growing bonfire, and crouching by its warmth was Troy Bolton himself. She wished to stand back unnoticed and examine the lost look in his eyes that danced against flame, but she had already caught her attention. She scrambled for an excuse as to why she had followed him. "How did you..." she inched nearer.

Troy Bolton stood upright, like he was no longer lost. He yanked his silver flask out of the elastic of his board shorts, opened it, and tipped the opening over the flame. For a few seconds, the fire grew out of control. It seemed to reach the sky, but was suddenly tamed again, as if the ocean had calmed it. Troy laughed at the way Sharpay squealed.

"How is that funny?"

"Are you cold?" Troy eyed the way Sharpay hugged herself and rubbed her skin soothingly. She scowled, but came closer to the fire.

"No."

"Really?" he seemed to smirk, and Sharpay scoffed.

"So this is what you do?" Sharpay questioned. "You play basketball, play with fire, and play beer pong?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Sharpay was surprised at his response. Her statement was meant to be an insult, but she really had summed him up in a sentence. "And it's all your fault." he said, before tipping his head back and finishing his toxic punch.

"My fault?" Sharpay accidentally raised her voice. "How is your big ego, pyromania, and alcoholism my fault?"

He simply shrugged, casually stumbling around the bonfire and into her personal space. "You tell me." he cocked his head to the side, and she could distinctly smell his breath. Vodka. Kool-Aid. Again. "You're the one who is so difficult to impress. I play basketball so well in a desperate attempt for you to compliment me. I play with fire because I know orange is your favorite color. And I drank... drink so much because I need saving. I need you to save me, Sharpay Evans."

Her face was contorted into a look of confusion and pain. "Why are you telling me all of this?" she was glad she knew now, but this was all too much information to take in at once. She was seeing a new side to the Troy Bolton she had known all of her life.

"Isn't it obvious?" he chuckled.

Was it? Was it really?

But before she could comprehend anymore of what was going on, his sandy hands had found the sides of her gentle face and brought her forward in a life-altering kiss. His lips bruised hers and he drank her in like he would toxic punch. And the stars. The stars that were glued to the night filled her for some reason, even though she tasted vodka and no Kool-Aid. She kissed him back heatedly, and knew that she too, would become an alcoholic if this continued.

She firmly pushed away from him, but she couldn't catch her breath. She probably never would again.

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June 23rd

9:58 AM

Sharpay's Driveway

Her lips no longer felt so irritated from the saltwater, but from that kiss she had recieved 13 hours before. Sharpay was gently shaken awake by Gabriella, and she opened her eyes to a familiar house and a familiar woman at her front door.

Her mother.

God, was she dead meat.

She saw Ryan clap Troy on the shoulder and whisper and thanks. Troy glanced back in his rearview mirror for a split second. She looked away and expertly crawled over the door of his convertible, but just as she glided past the wheel, he reached out and grabbed her wrist in a way that took her back to June 8th at 9:28 PM. But he wasn't hammered, she wasn't angry, and somehow, the beach had followed them home. "Remember the island in the sun." he whispered.

And she did. And the rest of their summer lock-down seemed worth it.

Goddddddddddddddd, my fingers hurt.

I miss you people.

Review!