A/N: I finally broke my writer's block! I had to read some Mac/PC, which was bizarre, but I did it! Happy day! ((claps hands like a retard))
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Plz don't sue me!
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"Chad?" Jennifer asked. Chad sighed. Six year olds were a little too inquisitive for his taste.
"Yeah?"
"What are you staring at?"
"I'm dramatically gazing into the distance as I ponder life's burning questions."
"What are those?"
"I don't know. Who am I? Does God exist? What happened to those Kris Kross kids? Does Jenny exist, and if so, what's her area code so I can call? Did Jim Morrison commit suicide? How can Matthew Gray Gubler be so incredibly amazing? What exactly is the appeal of Lynyrd Skynyrd?"
Jennifer looked puzzled. Chad sighed again. It was a bummer when people didn't get his references.
"It doesn't matter, sippin' on Jenn and juice."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Jennifer stood around for a while before getting bored and leaving. Chad hadn't told her what he was really thinking about. Or, rather, who.
Wow, you're predictable.
Shut up, I'm trying to pine here!
Can you really pine when you're with the person?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Yes. Time for you to be quiet now.
Whatever.
Chad often wondered if he was schizophrenic or something, what with the voice in his head. He'd never talk to a shrink about it, though. He could just imagine it.
"Now, what's the problem?"
"I hear voices in my head."
"What do they say?"
"Mostly comments dripping with dry wit. If something could drip with dryness, I mean."
"…"
Chad decided to stop thinking about his possible severe mental illness and return to Ryan.
Ryan.
His blue eyes. His crooked grin. His extensive collection of rakish hats. Chad couldn't help but love everything about him.
Wait, love?
Teenage confusion for the win!
God, do you ever shut up?
Um, no. Sucks to be you!
Chad sighed.
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"What's wrong?" Chad asked, pulling away from Ryan.
"What do you mean?" Ryan replied, breathing heavily, against the "Reading is Fun! Or Else" poster on the wall.
"You seem a little zealous. Not that it's unenjoyable or anything."
Ryan gave a modest laugh.
"It's nothing."
"Come on." Chad asked, starting to kiss Ryan again, "Tell me."
"I think Sharpay knows."
Chad stopped.
"Seriously?"
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"She's dropping subtle hints. Like, 'I know you're making out with Chad in empty classrooms whenever you can and I'm going to tell everyone unless you pay me'."
"Sharpay was always the master of the understated."
"Indeed."
"So what are we gonna do?"
"Pay her, I guess." Ryan said with a shrug.
"How much is she asking for?"
"I don't know yet. She's gonna get back to me."
"Okay."
Ryan gave a solemn nod.
A moment of silence passed.
"So, where were we?" Ryan chirped. Chad grinned.
"Right here." Chad said, planting a kiss on Ryan's lips.
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"Hey guys," Zeke said, "How much would you pay me to watch the 'Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?' video on repeat for a half hour?"
The Wildcats' pensive faces were rather hilarious.
"Three bucks," Jason said. The rest gave various grunts of agreement.
"Okay. Let's go find a computer."
The team bounded away from the table.
"You coming, Chad?" Troy asked.
"No. Boy George's dance is, uh, creepy."
Troy gave a serious nod before leaving.
Chad rolled his eyes. The Wildcats had interesting ideas of measuring fortitude.
"Hey, Chad,"
Chad turned. There Ryan stood.
"What's up?"
"Nothing, really,"
"Has Sharpay gotten back to you?"
Ryan sat.
"Yeah. She asked for $150. I tried to tell her that was too much, but she wouldn't budge. She's given me a day to get the money."
"So, we're pretty much fucked?"
"Pretty much,"
Chad sighed.