Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I owned Sharpay. She's a fantastic (excuse me, fabulous) character. I would even settle for being a Sharpette.

Sharpay Evans

New Years Day 2006

3:46 p.m.

"Again!" I pirouetted in front of Ryan and leaned back. He just barely caught me this time.

"Shar, I'm exhausted. We've been at this for so long. Alistair's not even here today," he whined. Alistair is our current rehearsal pianist.

"Ryan, how many times have we been over this?? Practice makes perfect! There can be no mistakes in theater—"

He cut me off by dropping me to the floor.

"Hey!" I rubbed my elbow where it had crashed into the dance mat. Owww.

"I mean it. I'm done for now. I need a break." He reached for his water bottle and took a long swig, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

I was flabbergasted. Ryan never ended the practices. He always kept going until I said it was perfect. What had gotten into him lately?

Chad Danforth, that's what. Or who. And he hadn't exactly gotten into him.

He'd almost gotten into me instead.

I am determined to repress the memory of last night. I can't believe I did what I did. And it wasn't even that good. I pretended he was Troy the whole time. Now Troy would be amazing at that stuff. But Chad? Chad was too drunk, and too eager, and…ew, I just need to pretend he doesn't exist. I didn't tell Ryan much, but I felt like I had to tell him that it happened. It was only fair. We tell each other everything, and this is important. But I really, really wish I could just block it all out. And to add insult to injury, Chad actually had the chutzpah to call me today. Trust me, it was the last time I will speak to that…that creature. I have to see him at school, of course, but we agreed to act as if nothing happened. But I know it did. I have to live with it. And what it did to my brother.

I shuddered, trying to rid myself of these horrible thoughts. Ryan made a disgusted face and turned away from me. We can get some pretty strong twin telepathy going, but he doesn't know all my thoughts. He's just really good at reading me.

"Ry, I know you're pissed about what happened. I'm sorry." Ryan is the only person I ever apologize to. He knows I mean it. He's just being difficult. But I cannot afford to have his pathetic little rebellion on my hands. Not this close to the spring musical auditions.

I tried again, when my last attempt evoked no response. "I really didn't mean for it to happen. I was drunk, and he was there, and he's kind of a good kis—"

Ryan turned and scowled at me. Oops.

"I mean, um…oh, come on. You know I didn't do it to hurt you!" I stamped my foot.

He closed the distance between us and gave me a tight hug, rubbing his hands up and down my back soothingly. "I know you didn't. I'm just upset at myself, mostly."

"Liar," I teased, ruffling his hair.

"Okay, so I'm angry at you, but I just wish I had the guts to make a move."

I pulled away from our hug and leveled with him. "You know I want you to be happy, Bunny. But he's straight. You have to get over this crush."

He sighed. "I know he is. It's just, sometimes he sends off this vibe that makes me think he might be interested. Like, last night…"

"Please," I scoffed. "I have better gaydar than you do. He's straight."

Ryan just nodded, though I could tell I didn't have him convinced. But we had to drop it. He was going to think what he wanted, and I couldn't stop him.

I patted his shoulder. "At least you have me," I cooed, and he smiled. "Who's my puppy? Who's a good puppy dog?" I patted his head and he rolled his eyes.

"Again?" he asked.

I held back my sigh of relief. I know one of these days Ryan's going to break away from me and actually get his own life. But until that day comes, (like, way, way off in the future when he actually comes out at school, maybe), he's under my complete control. After all, every princess needs a court jester to do her bidding.

"Yes, let's get this right. We need to make sure to impress Darbus this year. If we don't get every lead from now until the end of senior year, we can kiss Julliard goodbye."

"What's this? Miss Evans is actually having doubts?" he teased.

I poked him in the ribs. "Never. We own the drama department. Thank God that snotty Heather Zara graduated last year. We haven't had even the slightest competition since."

"I know. It's fabulous!" he grinned widely at me, and I knew our relationship was back in balance. He wasn't mad anymore. He knows I don't have a single ounce of feeling for that nasty basketball-loving what's-his-face. Ryan can put him back in his daydreams where he belongs. (Ew, did I just say it was okay for my brother to crush on Danforth? I take that back. Ryan is so out of that boy's league it's not even funny.)

"I'm going to try adding another move in the beginning," I told him as we got into position to begin the number over. "On Kelsi's intro, we should stick our hands out from behind the curtain and snap our fingers to the beat." I demonstrated my brilliant idea.

"Genius! Twinkle Towne won't know what hit it," Ryan beamed. "Now let me just add a jazz square at 'This feeling's like no other'…"

I gave him a sharp look. "Poodle, no jazz squares." I patted his head again. "Mmkay?"

He pouted at me, as if he thought I might actually give in. "Come on, Shar. Everybody loves a good jazz square."