Uscire la sera (Nightlife)

"Spill bitch."

Gabriella's eyes looked up from her plate of spaghetti, staring at Sharpay in a perplexed manner. "I'm sorry, what?"

Sharpay sighed dramatically, her fork playing with the noodles. "What happened at the beach while I was gone?" She paused, adding an afterthought. "And don't you dare tell me nothing happened. I've known you for almost fourteen years, I can tell when something's up."

"Um," Gabriella bit her lip nervously. Had she really been that obvious?

Sharpay tapped her pink manicured nail against the table impatiently.

"I met a guy," Gabriella blurted out heedlessly.

Sharpay's glossy lips formed into a sly smile, "Oh?"

Gabriella beckoned yes, "He was cute."

Sharpay cocked an eyebrow, "Just cute?"

Gabriella sighed. "He was pretty hot," She confessed.

"Name?" Sharpay demanded instantly.

"Uh," Gabriella pondered on the thought before stumbling upon a realization. "I didn't catch his name."

"Are you kidding?" Sharpay hissed. She most likely would have screamed if the two were outdoors, but seeing as they were inside the kitchen, Sharpay decided to keep her voice down.

"..."

"Gabriella! What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" She defended herself, "I was just so distracted that I forgot to ask! Did I mention that he lives in New York? And he knows what school I go to," She added quickly.

"Did he at least get your number?"

Gabriella hesitated to answer, "No..."

Sharpay shook her head, her palm smacking her forehead as she kept her head downcast. "You disappoint me, Montez."

Gabriella felt a grin grace her features as her eyes scanned over the night time scene of Lido di Jesolo. The sky darkened half an hour ago, but the beautiful lights adorned the small town, keeping the scene lively. The sun set a little after nine o'clock, surprising Gabriella at how late the sun set in Italy. There was about half an hour more of sunshine in Italy than New York, which she did not mind at all. The view of the sunset against the sparkling blue sea was extraordinary and Gabriella couldn't resist taking a few pictures for her scrapbook, much to the annoyed protests of Sharpay, who was obviously used to this by now.

Although the town looked cute in the daytime, there was something about night time that set a more romantic scene as Gabriella observed couples with interlocked fingers pass by on the broadwalk, the few daring teenagers fooling around by the wharfs, and the occasional couples sharing spaghetti (Lady & the Tramp style) over a candlelit dinner by the nearby restaurants.

While Gabriella observed the nightlife scene, Sharpay only had one thought on her mind - entering the boutiques and stocking up on designer purses.

"Gucci!" shrieked Sharpay, roughly grabbing Gabriella by the forearm before shoving her into a nearby store that was packed with designer purses, clutches, and scarves. Gabriella rolled her eyes with a chuckle at how typical this was of Sharpay.

"Ooh! I haven't seen this in Saks yet," Sharpay exclaimed before grabbing a heavily over-priced designer handbag before rubbing the texture with the palm of her hand. Smiling dreamily, Sharpay grabbed the handbag off the shell and ventured further into the small shop in pursuit of more purses.

Gabriella leisurely looked through the store, taking note of the cute purses and a few bizarre ones. Glancing at the ridiculous price tags, it quickly became apparent that you could buy all of this in New York for a cheaper price. With that, she searched for a more unique-looking purse - ones that would be difficult to find in designer stores in New York.

Forty-six purses later, Sharpay Evans finally decided upon which two to buy, while Gabriella didn't find anything she particularly liked. Sharpay simply rolled her eyes at the brunette, claiming Gabriella had an awful taste in purses. Gabriella merely shrugged and stated that she had more than enough handbags than she needed. Given the fact that her mother ran her own design company, Gabriella received too many designed items from that company as gifts.

Slapping down 200 euros on the counter, Sharpay quickly paid for her purses.

"Where should we go next?" Gabriella asked, patiently waiting as the lady in the counter wrapped the purses into a bag and handed it to Sharpay, who quickly thanked her in English.

"Hm, how'd you like to taste a little of Italy?"

"So, you met a hot chick who also happens to go to Brearley?" questioned Chad as Troy nodded excitedly. "Nice going, man. Is that why you dragged me out to town? To stalk this girl?"

Troy frowned. "Well, when you put it that way, you make me sound like such a creeper, which isn't my intention at all. I prefer the term looking for rather than stalking-"

"Yeah," deadpanned Chad. "There's little difference between the two considering you barely know this girl and yet you seem to be going crazy about her, thinking you see her left and right when she's obviously not there."

"Shut up, Chad."

The two were walking down the streets of Lido di Jesolo, enjoying the cool night air and a break from the sweltering day heat. It was a little after 10 o'clock, so after dropping Bailee off at home, the two decided to take a stroll through the streets and get something to eat. While Troy was determined to look for the dark-haired beauty that he met on the beach that day, Chad sought after open bars since he was convinced that this small town in Italy would give them unlimited access to alcohol - it was Italy, after all.

"Hey, look! Is that her?"

Instantly, Troy swerved his head towards the direction Chad pointed at. "Where?"

Chad snickered in amusement as Troy fell for his trick, "See my point?"

Troy narrowed his eyes, smacking Chad on the forehead as Chad yelped.

"Screw you, man."

Chad chuckled, shaking his head at his friend's bizarre behavior that seemed to be caused by one girl who he barely even knew.

"Do you even know her name?"

Troy bit his lip nervously as he answered, "No."

"Are you serious?" Chad deadpanned, staring at Troy with incredulity. "Really, man. What exactly are you trying to accomplish here? You're not gonna miraculously find her on the streets at night time, especially not if you don't even have her name or phone number. Besides, how do you know she didn't leave yet or something? Maybe she was just here for a day or so and-"

"No!" Troy hissed, elbowing his friend as he knit his eyebrows. "Don't say that, you'll jinx it."

"Hey," Chad defended himself. "I'm just being realistic here. How bout you give up your search for one girl and just open your eyes to all the hot tourist chicks staying at these hotels," Chad wagged his eyebrows up and down, "Eh? How does that sound?"

Troy shrugged his shoulders with a longing sigh. "All I wanted was to catch her name at the very least. But then she disappeared before I got the chance to. Seriously, man, you didn't see this girl. She was insanely gorgeous and the fact that she lives in New York...it's just - it's so unfair that I didn't get her number or anything-"

"Maybe you'll run into her on the streets or if you must… stalk around her school, but not here. It makes no sense to look for her here when there's a slim chance she's even staying in this small town AND there are a bunch of other chicks around here to score. Now c'mon, they're playing a World Cup re-run at one of the bars over there," Chad winked as Troy rolled his eyes. Even back in New York, Chad was into the underage drinking scene, and seeing as they were in Italy, why not take advantage of it when they're in a country where there's no legal minimum age for consumption of alcoholic beverages.

Troy caved, deciding that this slight distraction may actually benefit him. If anything, he could always go back looking for her on the beach the next day.

Shooting Chad a small smile, Troy nodded in agreement and followed Chad in the direction of the nearest bar. Why not indulge himself in some Italian culture while he was making his visit.

"Okay. I'm surprised anyone's still watching the World Cup after Italy's loss-"

Chad's eyes bulged as his brown eyes glared down into Troy's own blue orbs with a threatening glance, "Shh! You do not speak of this in public. Are you crazy man? They're still not over that. Do you want some burly, overly muscled Italian soccer fanatic to fight you for saying that?"

Troy cracked a smile and nodded his head, "Fine, Chad. Whatever you say..."

With that, the two entered the nearest pub, instantly gravitating towards the bar chairs where many men sat and drunkenly ranted about the teams in the World Cup. Troy overheard bits and pieces of the conversation and understood the majority of the arguments while Chad cluelessly blinked, pretending to understand the conversation while nodding in agreement to whatever the largest man at the table said.

The bar was surrounded by red bricks as were most of the pizzerias and restaurants, giving the restaurant a welcoming warmth. In the center of the brick walls were paintings of sports cars, photographs of famous Italian stars who visited this pub in particular as well as their autographs. Chad licked his lips as he caught sight of a picture of the famous Italian supermodel Elena Santarelli.

"Cosa vorresti da bere (Would you like anything to drink)?" The bartender asked upon noticing Troy and Chad settled in their stools. Chad looked utterly confused, but Troy easily understood the bartender's words. Although he understood Italian, it was hard for him to actually formulate a response back and required much thought.

After some hesitation, Troy finally opened his mouth and answered, "Avete la carta dei vini (Do you have the list of wines)?"

Chad's mouth dropped open in shock. As of now, he was unaware that his best friend spoke Italian. The bartender handed Troy the wine menu as Troy smiled and thanked the man, "Grazie."

The bartender nodded in acknowledgment and left to serve drinks to some newcomers.

Staring into the menu, Troy saw a wine in particular that caught his attention, recalling his grandfather recommending it as a good dinner wine. Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to order it for him and Chad.

"Una bottiglia diFontodi Chianti Classico 2001 per favore," Troy ordered once the bartender returned. The bartender left again to search for the bottle

"Dude, since when do you speak Italian?"

Troy blinked, "My parents speak and talk in Italian. Naturally, I would have to understand the language to understand them. I always answer them in English though, so I feel awkward actually talking in Italian."

"Dude, why? I mean, you sound like you don't have an accent or anything. Man, I wish I spoke Italian," Chad sighed, his elbow propped up on the table as he rested his chin upon his hand, "Then I could easily impress an Italian girl. It's a romance language after all."

Troy chuckled, shaking his head, "I don't think it would really make much of a difference, Chad."

Chad's eyes widened as he rebutted. "Are you kidding? Of course it would! I bet you anything it would work."

"Bet?" Troy playfully smirked. "You're on. Let's do this."

"Wait," Chad paused. "I said it work if I spoke Italian, which I don't."

"I know," Troy remarked slyly before reaching into his bag and pulling out a piece of paper and pen. "That's why I'll tell you what to say."

"Whoa-oh, hold on there!" Chad protested. "I don't know how to pronounce Italian."

Troy cocked his brow, "It's not that hard. It's not like French where certain letters are silent."

Chad stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. "But I'm gonna sound like an idiot."

Troy grinned, "Exactly."

Chad narrowed his eyes, "You suck. I'm better off impressing the girl with my impeccable English."

Troy snorted, "Yeah, sure."

"Although," Chad paused and added an afterthought, "This could work if the girl doesn't speak Italian-"

"Yes, but wasn't your goal to impress an Italian girl?"

"After Taylor dumped my ass, I think any girl would do for now."

Troy burst into laughter at Chad's bluntness but simply nodded in agreement.

"So, are you up for the challenge?"

Chad shrugged carelessly, "Why the hell not."

Troy grinned and pressed the tip of his pen hard onto the surface of the paper, jotting down the pickup lines he wanted Chad to try out.

After a few minutes, Chad grabbed the paper away from him and read the words scrawled onto it.

Ho perso il mio numero di telefono, potrebbe prestarmi il suo? (I lost my phone number, can I have yours?)

Hai da fare per I prossimi cent'anni? (What are you doing for the next hundred years?)

Vorrei fare l'amore voi. (I want to make love to you)

"Dude, wouldn't it seem obvious if I'm reading it right from the paper?"

"Nah, not if you copy it down onto your phone or something and pretend to be texting-"

Chad instantly reached into his pocket to pick up his phone, "All right, sure."

Once Chad copied down the words onto his phone, he stood up and searched the crowd for possible girls to work his magic on.

Troy smirked, patting his friend's back. "Good luck, ole chap!"

"Thanks man," Chad answered, oblivious to Troy's ploy.

With that, he walked amongst the crowd like a predator in search of his prey. Scanning the girls in the club, he finally spotted one that looked somewhat approachable.

He slipped past the drunken crowd as slick as a snake and reached out to touch a brunette's shoulder before whispering the shortest phrase he remembered into her ear, "Vorrei fare l'amore voi."

AN: Love triangle? Haha.