Chapter 20: Dinner

The ball swiveled on the rim, wobbling uncertainly.

Troy Bolton and Chad Danforth watched with a sort of fascination that was acquired after years of playing the sport. There was a certain thrill of anticipation that came with wondering whether or not it would fall through the hoop or simply fall through. As Coach Bolton had continually drilled into their minds, "Once it's out of your hands, it's out of your hands."

Jason Cross and Zeke Baylor watched as well, sending up a fervent prayer that the ball would drop out of its rotation and not into the net. Troy and Chad had enough victories under their belts to boast about. Underneath their competitive sides, they were still friends of the golden boy and hoped that scoring a shot would save him from sinking into depression.

Earlier that day, Chad had shared words with a fellow student that had pushed Troy into Ryan, the force sending both of them into a row of lockers, then had the unmitigated gall to proclaim, "The fags are getting it on!"

Standing beside the pair when the incident occurred, the curly haired athlete managed to slink ahead and obstruct the perpetrator's path, promising him a mouthful of fist or unwashed gym sock if he summoned up the lack of wit to pull a stunt like that again.

Needless to say, they hadn't any more encounters with the kid, a sophomore that was far too big for his grade and not very bright either. Apparently, gagging on a used, discolored sock reeking of all sorts of Pedi-associated odors didn't take his fancy.

It seemed at last that the ball had made its choice, and as Ryan Evans watched from the bleachers, it was in favor of Troy and Chad. The two athletes slapped each other celebratory high fives, letting out whoops and hollers of victory.

Jason and Zeke shared a look that was simultaneously crestfallen and congratulatory on behalf of the victory of their friends and teammates.

"We'll do better next time, man," the taller athlete assured his stockier companion.

"Yeah." Jason smiled cheerfully as Zeke gave him a pat on the chest.

From his vantage point, Ryan blinked, pretending he hadn't seen the flirtatious gesture. He had to remind himself that the world of athletics was full of intimate and flirty gestures between men that weren't meant to be interpreted as signals of homosexuality.

It was a foreign land to him. All his life he had been ridiculed for being a student of thespianism. At least in the theater, I can rely on my gaydar. Not that there were many gay drama students other than himself and Troy, of course, but at least in the hall of the performers, he had the upper hand.

"Ryan!" Troy called, breaking the blond out of his pondering. "Come down here with us!"

"Yeah!" Chad joined in. "It's no fun up there by yourself."

Unable to refuse the invitation, Ryan collected his messenger bag and daintily descended the bleachers. As he reached the last sep, Troy was there and took his hand, assisting him in weight distribution and balance control so gravity would not have the joy of bringing him down on his butt on the polished wood. "Thank you," he gasped breathlessly, shooting his love a look of gratitude.

"Don't mention it." The ends of Troy's mouth turned up into a contagious smile that his counterpart fully reciprocated.

The other three athletes smirked at the P.D.A.

"I never thought Troy would be dating the twin brother of my girl," Zeke said.

"Ryan is a cool guy," Jason put in.

"Yeah," Chad voiced his agreement. "And after that nasty break-up with Gabriella, Ryan's only been a good thing for Troy."

The other two nodded.

Hearing this support, Troy and Ryan exchanged looks of happiness.

"You ready to go, Ry?" The brunette asked.

"Yeah," the blond replied with a half-smile.

Turning to his friends, Troy relayed, "Ryan and I are headin' out."

"Alright! Later dude!" Chad waved a farewell, accompanied by murmurings from the other two athletes. "Just make sure you wait until you're in the car before you start giving head!"

Jason and Zeke sniggered and guffawed.

Troy blushed with obvious embarrassment, as did Ryan, and slinging an arm about the smaller boy's shoulder, he lead him out of the gym. Well down the hall, he leaned in and inquired with a hint of nervousness to his inflection, "Do I smell?"

"What?" Ryan's blue eyes widened at the thought of the beautiful boy having a foul odor.

"Like sweat?" Troy's tanned complexion reddened further.

Of course he would be embarrassed! Ryan's inner voice chided. He doesn't want to offend me. "No!" He assured the other boy. "I would have let you know. I wouldn't let you embarrass yourself by reeking of perspiration and not cluing you in."

This reassurance promptly perked the athlete up. "I knew I could count on you, Ry!" He grinned and Ryan beamed back, his heart mush in the aftermath of the boyish happiness his partner readily displayed.

"Anytime," he remarked quietly.

Troy looked mildly irked as his phone went off; playing a melody that struck a chord in Ryan's heart. "God damn stupid Gabriella," Troy mumbled as he felt his pockets for the cumbersome device. The song was "You Are The Music In Me" a song that Kelsi had written for the "It" couple to sing over summer vacation. Gabriella had had a fondness for fooling about with Troy's phone and programmed it with some very odd ring tones. He had been far too caught up with Ryan to bother himself with changing the tune but made a mental note to do so A.S.A.P. "I'm so sorry, Ryan," he blurted out, knowing how awkward the other male must feel. "This'll just…" He trailed off as his hand closed around the phone and at last extracted it from his rear pocket, an action that couldn't help but snag an interested glance from the blond. "Hello?" Troy inquired, suavely opening his phone and silencing the melody that only peaked his anger and frustrations toward his ex. "Oh, hey mom. What's that? No, we were just leaving-" His voice dropped. "You have to take him out?" He asked flatly.

Ryan tried not to stare as he wondered who or what the "he" in question was. Troy has no siblings or pets… What could they-?

"Alright mom." Troy snorted with laughter. "Good luck with that. I will. You too. Bye." He hung up, ending the call and then turned back to the puzzled theater king, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. "That was my mom," he began, warily testing the waters. Why can't Ryan and I have normal families? He pondered in silent exasperation. "We were going to have you over for dinner, but my mom was worried about my dad quote- "making an ass out of himself"-unquote, so they're going out for dinner. Do you still wanna head to my place? Mom started the jambalaya, but I can't cook to save my ass."

"I can cook," Ryan offered.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like a housewife or anything." In spite of his chivalrous words, Troy was already picturing his boyfriend bustling about in a frilly pink apron that was simply begging for removal and nothing underneath of it.

"My mom and I dappled in the culinary arts. I'm not a professional or anything, but I think I can handle jambalaya."

To say that Troy was pleased at Ryan's confidence would be one hell of an understatement. Smiling, his arm found its way around his lover's shoulder and he led both of them out of the building.

Both boys took a seat on the sofa in the den, carefully transporting their steaming bowl of turkey cabassi jambalaya. Although for the first moment in time immemorial, Ryan found himself with an appetite, he waited patiently for Troy to take the first bite. Loading his fork, the brunette blew on its contents to help lower the temperature.

"It isn't exceedingly spicy," Ryan put in, knowing how sensitive his own taste buds were.

Troy murmured in acknowledgement. Filling his mouth with the flavored meat and rice, he chewed slowly, pensively savoring the meal that Ryan had somehow perfected by lending a hand to its completion.

"How is it?" The blond inquired once the dip of his love's Adam's apple signaled that he had swallowed.

"It's fantastic!" Troy gushed, giving the petite performer a playful nudge, all the while mindful of his fragility. "You never told me you could cook like this."

Ryan blushed prettily. "It's nothing that special."

"You're too modest. I think Zeke has some competition if he wants to be "Top Chef" of East High."

With a grin, Ryan plunged his fork into his own bowl, ecstatic at Troy's praise and even more so that he really had made that tantalized his pallet. One thought lingered at the back of his mind with each bite between the two of them; if it wasn't for Troy.