Hola.

What the...?

It's been three months?

It's been three months!

Wow, I'm really sorry to people that actually have been reading this.

(Dear) Diary,

Hi.

My name's Gabriella Montez.

And I expect too much out of things then end up disappointed.

I've always been 'that kind of girl', but I don't think I can take the pain much longer.

I'm tired of being that girl.

Ergo, I'm tired of being Gabriella Montez.

So, hi.

I'm Gabriella Montez.

And the future is driving me insane.

Sincerely,

Gabriella

P.S. I've never had such a deep and philosophical thought process. Maybe some of Taylor is rubbing off-

"Here!" A box coated in neon pink wrapping came barreling into Gabriella's diary, knocking it to the plush carpet of the Evans' parlor. "Open mine first, you're going to adore it!" Gabriella looked beyond her furrowed brow to see Sharpay clasp her manicured hands in excitement. Her face glimmered with a new found tranquility, though the fiery red dress that squeezed her in all the right places held the attention of every boy in the room.

"Shar, I thought we were going to wait until-"

"Oh, nonsense, open it now. It's the best graduation gift you'll ever get, I promise!"

Adults that sipped delicate champagne from the Evans' best China and classmates that tagged along for the awesome graduation gift bags were curious as to what was in the damn box. Sharpay beckoned for them to come, and the senior boys knew that when Sharpay said come, you'd better come running.

So there Gabriella sat, stuffed in the corner of one of the Evans' expensive leather couches. Sharpay placed herself next to Gabriella and people looked on with anticipation. "Sharpay, I really hope this isn't something huge and extravagant..."

"Would I do things any other way?" Sharpay grinned her sly grin and nudged her best friend on. "Open it."

Gabriella cautiously peeled away strips of hot pink paper until she revealed a plain cardboard box. She yanked at its opening, and its contents made her stomach teeter in humiliation. "Shar-payyy..." she whined.

A true blue bra was folded neatly in the box. But it was more than the fact that Sharpay had gotten her a bra. It was the four garish gold letters stamped on each of the 34B cups that made Gabriella groan and caused pink rise to her cheeks. Most of the adults had ducked away in embarrassment, but a few people, mostly teenage guys hung around and lingered on the glimpse they had been given at what goes on under a girl's clothing.

"It's a custom-made UCLA bra-and-pantie set!" Sharpay squealed. "I got us all matching university undergarments... in fact, I'm wearing my NYU thong right now!"

Despite being totally and completely ashamed, Gabriella couldn't help but feel a bit envious of Sharpay for being so open and out-going. A bra branded with her future university. Hm. Not something one sees everyday. Just after one of the senior boys suggested that Sharpay show them her NYU underwear, Gabriella looked to her friend in sincerity. "Thanks," she said.

"Aw, I knew you'd like it!" Sharpay leaned a little closer to Gabriella's ear. "And just think of all the guys on campus that would love to be taking off that bra-and-pantie set."

"Shar!" Gabriella wailed. "My parents could hear you!" Her brown eyes darted in the direction of her mother placing a pitcher of iced tea on the refreshments table and her father readjusting the focus on his video camera.

"Whoops," Sharpay giggled. "We can't upset the 'rents, now can we?"

Mr. and Mrs. Montez being in the same room at once was a rare occurrence. Mr. Montez's hair was slicked back with excessive amounts of grease, his short frame stuffed into a suit a few sizes too small. Mrs. Montez's tan tights were running at the ankles and she wore an awkward floral skirt and a button-up that made no effort to conceal her stomach's bits and pieces.

"Well, excuse, us, Shar. Not all of our parents play golf in Tahiti and have pilate classes with Martha Stewart." Gabriella grumbled. Envy crept into her system again. While Sharpay's parents were busy being glamorous and in love, the Montez family was always set on edge. Mr. Montez was prepared to explode into an angry riff about Gabriella's future at any moment. Mrs. Montez would defend her daughter with distraught streams of Spanish.

If anything made Gabriella eager to move on with life, it was her parents, and she hated to admit that.

"Sorry," Sharpay's glossed lips barely parted as she apologized. She had never been good at apologies. Being humble was far below Sharpay Evans, and everyone knew it.

Taylor and Kelsi reappeared just as Mr. Evans launched into his 'I'm so proud my daughter graduated speech.' The four girls giggled, knowing the speech had, 'I'm so proud my daughter got out of high school without STDs or ruining my reputation' undertones.

"...so here's to Sharpay Evans, Gabriella Montez, Kelsi Neilsen, and Taylor McKessie. May all of their hard work multiply into one million dreams."

"Damn, Shar, your dad's laying it on thick," Taylor murmured as one hundred pairs of eyes turned to them.

"Shut up, Tay," Sharpay shot back. They were suddenly surrounded by friends and family. Hugs, kisses, words of congratulations are tossed around in families. Sharpay was pulled to her feet by her father, Kelsi was whisked away by Jason, who was supposed to be at his own graduation party. And as Mr. and Mrs. Montez emerged from the crowd and took their daughter's hands, Gabriella went cold. Was Mr. Montez going to lecture her about not screwing up again? Was Mrs. Montez going to cause a scene?

"You did it, my little galleta." Rough hands took her soft cheeks. Gabriella looked into his matching hazelnut eyes and actually found her father. For once, her big teddy bear of a father smiled right back at her. When was the last time she had seen that?

She couldn't remember, and she tried to tell herself that it didn't matter.

Because right then, she sat next to a neon pink box with university undergarments in it. She had a little champagne and frosted cake in her system. She was having a great time with her friends. Her parents were acting kind of normal. She had just fucking graduated.

And okay, yeah, graduation hadn't been what she had thought it was going to be, but it was those moments that made bittersweet into pure granulated sugar.

--

(Dear) Diary,

A list of all that I, Gabreilla Montez have done to keep myself occupied until the stroke of midnight:

1. Color-coordinated my jeans

2. Written two drafts to my novel (Brief summary: A brooding teenager experiences the woes of her graduation ceremony and decides to work at Dairy Queen for the rest of her life.)

3. Marked the dates I expect to get my period on my calendar for the next three years

4. Listened to my mother sing in the shower whilst she prepared for bed

5. Pondered where to hide my UCLA bra so my father never finds it

6. Waited. Waited. Waited.

I wish waiting was an easy task for me. As I wait, my mind always wanders to the questions with impossible answers: Where the fuck am I going to be ten years from now? Where the fuck am I going to be my sophomore year of college? Will life continue to be a giant graduation party, where the cake is good, the champagne is extra bubbly, and my parents act normal? Will I still be in touch with Shar, Kels, and Tay? Will I finally have a boyfriend? Will I be into drugs?

I wish Kelsi would save me from myself already.

Sincerely,

Gabriella.

P. S. Speak of the devil.

A collective knocking penetrated the glass door that spilled out into Gabriella's balcony. She swiftly pulled her nose out of her journal and rolled out of bed to pull open the French doors. "What was with your weird phone call? Where are we going?" Gabriella asked.

"Don't ask questions," Kelsi hissed. She craned her neck to the full moon. "Luna has spoken. It's past twelve. Grab a sweatshirt."

Together, they shimmed down the trellis attached to the side of the Montez home, tip-toed to Kelsi's ancient convertible, and slipped away into the night, with the exception of the throaty cough of the engine.

"You're not going to try to break into the science museum again, are you? I've told you before, I'm not all that interested in learning all of the constellations-"

"No, Gabriella, we're going back to school."

"Wha?" Gabriella asked, though an excitement tickled the bottom of her stomach. She wouldn't object to going back to high school. The sharp night air rearranged their hair and they cruised down empty roads as Kelsi continued to explain.

"Sharpay told me not to ruin the surprise, but she insisted that when we show up, we shouldn't say anything. She wants dead silence until she says otherwise."

Typical Sharpay. Just do what she says, no matter how out-of-the-ordinary or over-the-top it may be. The fact that Sharpay Evans knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to demand it was another trait Gabriella envied. As they swung behind East High School, Gabriella and Kelsi fell silent.

Sharpay and Taylor were crouched beside the dumpsters, that lined the back wall and lead to a series of stairs, clad in pajamas pants and tank tops. They emerged from hiding at the sight of their friends, giddy, secretive grins on their coveted, beautiful faces.

"Guys, what are we-"

"Shh!" Sharpay hushed her friend as the four of them slipped past the trashcans and began a mostly quiet descent up the stairs. "Wait until we get inside, Gabriella," she forced.

"Inside?! How on earth are we going to-"

"Gabri-ella!"

"Sorry."

A lonely grey door waited at the top of the stairs, a silver handle ready for its turning. Sharpay placed a perfectly manicured hand on the knob before turning to her curious friends. "Welcome to paradise, ladies," she sighed. "Welcome to exactly what we need before the rest of our lives begin. Before high school ends. Before we're separated. Before... whatever, I'm going to open on the count of three-"

"Shar, what if an alarm goes off?!"

"Gabriella? Do us a huge favor and shut up." Sharpay turned the knob with eagerness, let the door swing open, and four teenage girls were taken in by the paradise that thrived on the other side.

Just thought I would let you know that galleta is cookie in Spanish.

Review, dammit.