A/N: Well, here it is. I finally got here. This story didn't exactly work out how I planned. I planned about seven more chapters but I think it worked out for the better :D This epilogue was a LOT longer than I planned and I think I went a little overboard. I thought I'd broken the habit of fast forwarding into the future but I couldn't help myself.

So this epilogue is dedicated to xLeeRamdomx, MrsStCloudxToxBe and juli93. They all believe in me and they all help me whenever I get stuck. So, this is for you :)

Enjoy :)

Epilogue

At seventeen years old, life for Megan Bolton wasn't without worries. First and foremost, she was currently in her last year before she went out into the big, wide world to go to university. Because of her bond with her sister-in-law, Steph, Megan was hoping to study marine biology at Edinburgh University and follow in her footsteps. Of course, that particular university was renowned for being one of the most competitive in the country and she'd been thankful to receive a conditional acceptance from them. Obviously, this meant she was working exceptionally hard to make sure that she got the grades needed for them to accept her unconditionally on results day in the summer.

In addition to her concerns with exams and grades, she worried about her friends. Or, more specifically, she worried about her friends abandoning her. And who could blame her? All through secondary school, she'd been stabbed in the back by the same people for the same reasons. Now, she only had a few close friends, including her niece who was just two years younger than herself and more like a sister, and she was happy with that. But, she'd like a few more friends every now and then.

And, of course, being a teenage girl meant that she worried about boys. She wasn't obsessed like some of the girls at sixth form. They'd never been a priority for her. Instead of choosing a short skirt and a tight top, she was happy in jeans, converse shoes and one of her older brother's baggy shirts that she wore when she was at work. But, she couldn't help caring about what they thought of her.

Upon hearing someone talking to her, Megan took one of her earphones out and turned away from the computer she was working on in the library. "Huh?"

She looked up to see a tall guy, almost six feet, smiling down at her. "Is anyone sitting here?" he gestured to the computer next to hers.

She shook her head. "No, go ahead." She plugged her earphones back in and turned back to her computer where she was doing online research for a chemistry project.

Before she could fully get back into the swing of research, she noticed he'd held his hand out. Once again, she took her earphones out and stared at his hand.

"Sam," he introduced.

She shook his hand. "Megan. It's nice to actually meet you after seven years."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

She wasn't surprised at this response, although a little disappointed. She and Sam had been in at least one class together since they were eleven, in their first year of secondary school. When they'd first met, he'd been kind of short and chubby. But, over the years, she'd witnessed him change from boyish cute to a manly sexiness. With a tall, lean frame with pronounced muscles he flaunted mercilessly, dirty blonde hair which always looked perfectly windswept, and a smile which could make even a woman with a heart of ice swoon, he knew he looked good.

Of course, she was ashamed to think this way.

She rolled her eyes. "We've had classes together since we were eleven. We were always in science together, we had the same tutor for the last two years of secondary school and we had all the same classes last year and you sat next to me for the most part of the year in maths. I assumed, apparently wrongly, that you knew who I was."

Who was she kidding? Of course he didn't know who she was. Her idea of a Friday night is ordering a Chinese takeaway, playing board games with her family and then watch reruns of old sitcoms together. She wasn't exactly a party animal. And although her father would be pleased about that and she was quite happy living that way, it kind of made her, well, invisible.

On the other hand, he had a reputation for going out, getting drunk and flirting with the nearest thing with a vagina. She didn't know if he lived up to that reputation. She pretended not to care. But, deep down, way, way deep down, she knew that she did. And she cared because, in every other respect, he was perfect. He was good looking, he was intelligent, he loved science and he was funny. Well, he'd never told a joke to her, personally, but she'd overheard them and he was pretty funny. The only fly in the ointment was his obnoxious nature, know-it-all tendencies and his questionable reputation.

"Oh," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Meg."

"It's Megan," she muttered, turning back to her computer.

She watched out of the corner of her eye as Sam brought out some books from his bag. "You doing the chemistry project?"

She sighed as she flipped a few pages through her textbook. "I kind of have to if I want to get into the University of Edinburgh for marine biology."

"Huh," he muttered whilst staring at her.

Megan slammed her book shut and threw her hands up in exasperation. "What?" she snapped.

"You want to study fish?" Sam asked quietly.

"I guess so," she whispered.

She continued quietly, just for Sam to say exactly the same thing at the same time. "But I prefer starfish."

Megan stared at him as if she wasn't quite seeing him. "What?"

He shrugged. "I like starfish. I like fish, too, don't get me wrong. I just prefer starfish."

"You're doing marine biology?" she asked slowly.

He nodded. "I'm going to Newcastle."

She swallowed. "Well, good luck with that."

Out of all the career choices, she never would've guessed he was heading for marine biologist. He had promise yet.

She began flipping through her notebooks and noticed Sam was following the movements of her hands. "What now?" she exclaimed.

He frowned. "What's wrong with your fingers?"

She inspected the tips of them. She'd always been a nail biter and her fingertips were hardened with calluses and stained with oil. "Oh, occupational hazard I guess. It's results from my job."

"What do you do?" Sam asked curiously.

"I help out at my parents' garage. It's not much but it helps keep my truck on the road." She shrugged.

Sam frowned. "Wait. So you fix cars?"

She nodded. "It's in the genes, I guess."

"I don't believe you," he said slowly.

She shrugged. "Well, my dad owned a garage pretty much as soon as he was out of uni. Then, my mum went for an interview, got the job and somewhere down the line, I came along."

"Oh, so your mum deals with the business department, right?" Sam asked with realisation.

Megan quirked an eyebrow. "Well, the business and finance department is sorted by my mum and my older brother but all of us fix the cars. It's a family thing, you know?"

Sam paused. "So...women fix cars?"

Megan sighed and shut all of her books before she started saving the work she'd completed on the computer. "Of course not," she said sarcastically. "Me and my mum sit in the corner sewing and cooking while my dad and brother fix cars. Because that's what women do, right?" She stood up and lifted her bag onto her shoulder, cradling her books in her arms. "I bet I could fix a car faster than you could say RAC. Anyway, I have to go. Nice to meet you, Sam. See tomorrow, first period for chemistry."

After meeting up with her friends for cups of coffee in the canteen, Megan began making her way towards the student car park. The beat up truck parked right down the bottom, near the entrance, had belonged to her dad. Everyone was surprised that it had lasted this long. She usually had to fix something on her at least once a week and oil changes were a regular occurrence. But, it got her from A to B.

Whilst keeping a hold of her books, she began digging through her bag for her keys. Of course, it was at that moment that she walked into someone, knocking her and her books to the floor. "Mierda," she muttered as she began picking up her books.

"What did you call me?"

Megan looked up and, lo and behold, saw Sam crouched down, her chemistry book in his hand. She briefly wondered why the universe hated her so much as she slowly reached over to take the book from him. "I said shit in Spanish."

They rose to their full heights and it was only then that she noticed that Sam was stood next to a Suzuki Swift that she assumed was his. The bonnet was propped open and smoke was billowing out. She coughed as she inhaled some. "Jeez, what the hell happened?"

He shrugged. "I turned the key and this happened. I was about to call breakdown when you bumped into me."

Megan eyed him for a moment. She dropped her bag to the floor and thrust her books into his arms so that she could pull a rag from her back pocket and tie her mass of brunette curls into a ponytail. She stepped forward and waved the smoke away so she could peer inside. After a brief moment, she stepped back and folded her arms. "You have to be kidding me. You can't have been hoping for this hunk of junk to start with that piece of crap that I'll jokingly call a fuel pump."

He frowned. "I didn't know."

She sighed. "Well, you have two choices. You can watch me walk away and fork out a small fortune on breakdown just for them to scrap this piece of metal. Or, you can come with me to my dad's garage see if he has a new fuel pump. If he does, I'll drive you back here, fix it in and you can be on your way and I may be nice enough to charge a discounted rate."

"What if your dad doesn't have one?" Sam asked impatiently.

She shrugged. "Then, he'll probably tow you back to the garage until he gets one. It's not going very far at the minute. Again, with a discounted rate, if you're lucky." She reached for her books and pulled her bag back onto her shoulder. "It's your choice."

After a moment's deliberation, Sam relented and soon, he was sat in the passenger seat of Megan's truck. "Is this thing safe?"

She shrugged. "When my mum first met my dad, she asked exactly the same thing. I always cling on to the fact that it hasn't killed anybody yet."

"Yet being the operative word," Sam grumbled as Megan pulled away, heading for town where her parents' garage was located.

After a fairly long silence, she pulled up in the car park behind the workshop. "Don't worry, you lived." She grabbed her bag and books and hopped down. Once Sam was down, she locked it as an afterthought, not convinced for one second that anybody would bother stealing it if she didn't.

"I'm only doing this to save money," Sam exclaimed.

"Sure you are," Megan muttered as she entered the workshop. She tossed her bag and books onto the table and looked around. "Dad? Are you here?"

Troy Bolton strolled out of the back office, his face immediately breaking out into a smile when he saw his daughter. Although he was still handsome, the last eighteen years had taken its toll. His skin was darker, with more wrinkles, his hair greyer. But he was still himself. "Hey, Cupcake."

Megan blushed and glanced at Sam who chuckled to himself. "Dad, I told you not to call me that. But that's not important." She suddenly realised that Sam was standing there, looking kind of awkward. "Oh. Dad, this is Sam. Sam, this is my dad." She walked to the back of the workshop where a big rack of shelves stood. She started rummaging through them, searching for a fuel pump while listening to Troy semi-interrogate Sam.

She walked back over to them and hopped up to sit up on the table. "Dad, do you know if we have a fuel pump? I couldn't check the top shelves."

Troy wandered over to the drawers and started looking through them. "I honestly don't know. Do you know if Andy ordered some in?"

Megan shook her head. "I don't know. I know you asked him to. Did Mama order any?"

"Did Mama order any what?" Gabriella asked as she appeared on a creeper from under the Renault that was in the workshop. She waved a hand in Troy's direction. "Honey!" she called.

Troy hurried over and pulled her to her feet. "You okay?" he asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She nodded. "I'm fine." She approached Megan and Sam. "Hola, mi hija." After that sentence, the conversation degenerated into Spanish and Sam looked around helplessly at Troy who was leaning against the bonnet of the Renault.

"You get used to it," he answered the unspoken question. "I've been married to Gabriella for nineteen years and the most I can say in Spanish is hola and when I do say it, she yells at me because I don't pronounce it right." He shrugged. "Like I said: you get used to it."

Gabriella turned to Sam and held her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Sam. I'm Gabriella." She faltered and looked at her grease-covered hand. "On second thoughts, let's take a rain check on that handshake."

"So she was telling the truth?" Sam asked slowly.

"Who was?" Gabriella frowned.

"Megan said both of you fix cars," he said. "I didn't...I mean...I just..."

"Word of advice," Troy piped up, "shut up before you get your other foot in your mouth."

Before Sam could reply, Andy pulled up in his car and got out, approaching all of them. The last nineteen years had given him a wife, three children, a reliable job and the occasional wrinkle and grey hair. Sure, his life hadn't turned out like he'd imagined it would when he was sixteen. He'd never imagined that he'd marry his best friend. But he concluded that life had a funny way of working out for the better. And, he supposed, he was much happier with the life he had than with the life he'd wanted at sixteen.

"Hey, Squirt," he exclaimed as he sat next to Megan, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Megan elbowed her older brother. "I told you never to call me that," she hissed. Despite the large age gap between them, they were unbelievably close. Andy was teasing and annoying for her but she also knew that he'd take a bullet for her. Regardless of Andy having his own family, he somehow always found time so that they could do things together, just the two of them. Bottom line? They both knew that nothing could force them apart.

Andy laughed. "Hey, now. If I didn't bug you on a daily basis, you'd think there was something wrong with me."

Megan thought that over for a moment. "I'm not even going to escape you when I'm in Edinburgh, am I?"

Andy chuckled to himself but the laugh trailed off as he noticed Sam's presence. "Who's your friend, Meg? A boyfriend?"

"He's just a friend," she whispered. "Andy, this is Sam. Sam, this is by brother, Andy."

Andy reached forward to shake Sam's hand. "Just so you know...I put the last guy that hurt Megan in the hospital. I spent a year in jail."

Megan rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. I do on a daily basis. He can't even swat a fly." She stuck her tongue out at Andy. "Moving on, did you order any fuel pumps in? Sam needs one for his car."

"Sure. Top drawer on the right," he replied.

Megan frowned. "Two things. Number one: how the hell am I going to reach that? Number two: I've told you before, fuel pumps go in the fourth drawer from the top on the left hand side. It took me a week to get those drawers in order and you constantly mess it up."

"You want to watch out, Sam. She suffers from OCD," he said seriously.

"No, I don't," she protested. Then she faltered. "But, if I hypothetically did, it would be because of Mama."

Gabriella, who had moved over to Troy she that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders, gasped. "Mi hija! I don't have OCD."

She shrugged. "You line the cereals in alphabetical order," she muttered. She turned to Andy. "Go and get a fuel pump, please?"

Andy sighed and went over to get a fuel pump for her. "Well, because I'm so nice and all," he replied. He walked back over and tossed the fuel pump to her.

She caught it easily and quirked an eyebrow. "You? Nice? You must be mistaken."

"Of course. I'm confusing myself for your other brother," he muttered sarcastically.

Sam smiled in amusement at Megan. "Don't ask," she muttered. "What can I say? You can't pick your family. And I got stuck with that idiot over there."

Sam chuckled. "Ah, no worries. I have two older sisters and a younger brother. A day doesn't go by without someone trying to kill someone else."

"At least I know you're human," Megan commented. She sighed at his confused look. "Please. Dad's an older brother, Mama's a middle child and Andy. Well, he escaped me for the first twenty years of his life. I've been here ever since."

Sam looked between Megan and Andy. "There's twenty years between you guys?"

"Twenty one to be more precise," Megan explained. "Anyway, I'd best get this to your car. I'll check it over at Sixth Form but from the glance I took of it, you'd best bring it down as soon as possible and one of us will fix it back up for you."

"There's more damage to it?" Sam asked.

She shrugged. "Your oil pan looked as if it was disintegrating before my very eyes. Where did you get the car?"

Sam frowned. "Private dealer. I paid about nine hundred quid."

Megan laughed out loud. "Whoever it was ripped you off. I wouldn't pay a tenner for that heap of junk." She paused. "But, now that you know me, it may last a lot longer than it would have."

Sam nodded slowly. "I always wanted a mechanic as a friend."

"Friend?" Megan asked as she hopped down from the table. She looked as if she was about to protest but then faltered. "Answer me this honestly: Ever been so drunk you've woken up next to a girl and you have no idea who she is or how she got there?"

Sam shook his head. "Never. I've never even set foot in a nightclub."

Megan nodded slowly in approval. "Well. As you like starfish, too, and drink responsibly, we'll see. No promises, though."

Sam quirked the corners of his mouth up into a smile. "Good enough for me."

She headed out towards her truck. "I don't suppose you like old sitcoms, do you?"

"Are you kidding? Me and my family love Terry and June. Do you?" he asked curiously.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I do. My favourite is Man About The House. They don't make sitcoms like that anymore."

"Huh. A girl who is good with cars, is interested in starfish and knows good comedy? Who knew we've had the same classes for seven years?" he asked.

Megan stopped and turned to him. "Me. I knew, Einstein. Just get in the truck and don't talk."

Gabriella settled herself in Troy's arms and looked over as her daughter reversed out of the parking space. Through the windshield, Gabriella saw Megan talking wildly, no doubt explaining why Sam was pissing her off. "They kind of remind me of us," she murmured.

Troy chuckled and nodded, watching Megan drive away back towards Sixth Form. "You're right. They'll be together before they leave for uni. I know they will."

Gabriella smiled. "She'll be the world's first marine biologist slash mechanic."

"And he'll follow her. I can tell. Even if he can't," he commented.

"Dad. Stop. She's my sister. She's not dating anybody. She's going to marry a starfish," Andy exclaimed.

Troy chuckled. "Oh, she'll be fine. I know it."

Gabriella leaned in and kissed her husband, vaguely aware of her adopted son muttering something along the lines of 'I may be thirty eight but that's still too disgusting'. Gabriella and Troy were quickly approaching retirement age but it didn't discourage them. They were still crazy about each other. It made Andy and Megan cringe with how in love they were. But, they didn't care. And Troy and Gabriella knew that deep down, their children preferred that to their parents fighting.

She pulled back and Troy brushed a lock of Gabriella's grey-flecked hair behind her ear. "We didn't do bad bringing Megan up, did we?" she murmured.

Troy chuckled. "Personally? I think we did a pretty great to get this far. Who'd have thought it would happen?"

She smiled. "I think everybody knew but us."