fic: medium-sized american hearts
medium-sized american hearts
High School Musical, Chad/Ryan, post-HSM3 (PG)
1 360 words. Thanks and love, as always, to autoridade.
notes: I promise that this is the last HSM-related post I'll make in weeks.
Gabriella forwards an essay-long message from Chad. Ryan knows that this is probably all Taylor’s doing.
It doesn’t really say much; that, more than anything, makes him uncomfortable.
Gabriella makes them all promise to keep in touch after graduation; passes around lists with email addresses and marks colleges with pins on a map. Ryan’s is purple, because Gabriella doesn’t know about subtlety, and very, very far away from New Mexico.
That summer, they make a lot of promises they don’t keep.
He sees Kelsi at least four times a day, every day, and Gabriella sends updates on Troy’s adventures in theatre and basketball dutifully once a week. She signs every email with far too many x’s and equally many o’s, and Ryan has given up pointing that out.
Taylor always sends carbon copies of her replies to everyone, though Ryan never really understands why. He thought, briefly, about asking her to come down to the city over a weekend, but that way lies memories of other people, and Ryan has enough of those under his bed as it is.
He has not deleted a single photo from his phone in a year and a half.
Sharpay writes emails with terrible punctuation; Ryan saw this coming at eight, when their dad bought him his first computer. It’s amazing to me, he replies to one, that I’m the dyslexic one but still manage not to write like an eleven-year-old. (No smilies; this is a given.)
His sister calls twelve minutes later, yelling into his ear. Ryan is not surprised.
He tries so hard not to focus on the names she ticks off that he stumbles over his shoelaces when Sharpay mentions that Danforth and I keep bumping into each other and I swear to God, I never know what to say. Curses her under his breath.
It’s not that he doesn’t have an email address or a phone number or a home in the right part of Albuquerque; it’s just that some things are better left alone.
All the same, Ryan has to keep reminding himself that college is about moving on. (It’s not like Chad has called him, either.)
October is hellish in every way -
Ryan ignores the phone every time it rings.
Taylor comes to visit, eventually, but Ryan knows it’s probably mostly because she’d feel guilty otherwise. With Kelsi off in a practice room, they spend two quietly uncomfortable hours in a diner and he thinks that it makes sense, now, why they were never really friends.
Taylor drinks her coffee like she’s disappointed. ‘Um,’ she says, and looks out to the street, ‘Do you still talk to him?’ (No, Ryan realises, this is why they were never really friends.)
He shrugs and hopes it looks just a little bit nonchalant. ‘I -’
‘Yeah,’ she replies as though she knows exactly where this is going, ‘Me neither.’
He gets Taylor drunk on margaritas in his dorm because he doesn’t know what else to do. ‘I always thought about you two, you know,’ she says like it doesn’t matter and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling.
‘You knew?’ Ryan tries very hard not to sound surprised.
She nods slowly and wraps her fingers around his wrist. ‘I knew.’
He mixes her another drink. (This is probably a bad idea, considering.)
Ryan starts replying to Gabriella’s emails with more than two sentences. He sends blind copies to Sharpay and Taylor; if something should happen, he theorises, one of them will let the rest know.
Gabriella forwards an essay-long message from Chad. Ryan knows that this is probably all Taylor’s doing.
It doesn’t really say much; that, more than anything, makes him uncomfortable.
At some point in high school, everyone had a crush on Troy. Ryan would like to think that his tastes have improved, since.
He knows they probably haven’t.
He doesn’t quite drunk-dial Chad a week before Christmas. There’s a text message and he realises, later, that even drunk he spells correctly, and isn’t that ironic? Ryan thinks it’s in his thumbs; his muscle memory has always been impeccable.
He understands perfectly well that I miss you would be innocent to others, but none of those people has a name starting with C. Ryan wonders if he should tell Sharpay to ignore Chad more than usual on campus, but he knows his sister and she’d probably ask more questions than he is willing to answer.
Ryan doesn’t really want avoidance. (That’s a problem, he’s pretty sure.)
He’s about to board a flight to New Mexico when Sharpay calls, voice high and impatient. ‘Don’t even pretend that you’re not elated I’m calling you four times a day,’ she begins and Ryan can’t quite keep from rolling his eyes. ‘Please tell Danforth to talk to you about you. I cannot have him following me around like a puppy. It does nothing for my reputation.’
Ryan drops his boarding card. ‘He does what?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ she sighs and smacks her lips together loudly. ‘Ryan, promise me you’ll fix whatever weird long-distance sexual tension you’ve got going on, because he is clearly too stupid to figure it out.’
Ryan rubs his face. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Obliviousness is very unattractive,’ Sharpay says.
He swallows slowly. ‘You don’t say.’
His sister hangs up.
Gabriella throws a party and Ryan tries to fake a fever, because mistletoe and eggnog are not things that go well together with Chad. He’s really rather convincing, but Sharpay only glares at him and throws a pillow in his face. ‘You can’t lie to me, Ryan; you’re a performer.’
‘So are you,’ he replies and bites his tongue to keep from adding and we both know who the better actor is.
Sharpay doesn’t award him so much as a snarl. ‘Besides which,’ she says and measures her voice carefully, ‘You promised me to get Idiot Boy off my back.’
‘I did no such thing,’ he smiles. Turns his head to the wall and mumbles and that’s not his name under his breath.
He dresses up anyway, of course. (Makes very sure that he and Sharpay clash, however.)
Troy hugs him like he’s important and Ryan is surprised at how much he cares, still. (He maybe hasn’t moved on, then, at all.) Gabriella smiles, eyes bright and arm hooked with Taylor’s. Ryan fixes on a point on the wall behind them; Jason to the right, to the left - oh.
Taylor offers him a glass of eggnog. ‘Virgin,’ she murmurs and looks a little too pleased, ‘I know what you’re like drunk.’
Ryan shifts his gaze to his shoes.
It’s later (much, much later), when he has exhausted Martha’s interest and Kelsi’s patience that Ryan searches his sister’s eyes out. Idiot Boy, she mouths, and it’s the least subtle she’s ever been. He knows she’s right; Troy and Gabriella are not drunk enough - will never be drunk enough - not to notice avoidance, and people talk.
Ryan’s hand shakes a little as it taps a shoulder. Chad’s eyes are soft and unsure and this is not how it should have played out, dammit, but Ryan clears his throat anyway.
There is no hi, I’m really sorry about that thing where I said I missed you -
‘There is less mistletoe here than I thought there would be,’ Chad says and sounds almost certain.
Ryan smiles, barely. ‘Gabriella has shown surprising ornamental restraint, yeah.’ Clears his throat again, for effect; Ryan is an actor. ‘Sharpay claims that you stalk her.’
Chad chokes on his drink. ‘The campus isn’t that big.’
(Oh, but Ryan recognises a lie when he hears one.)
‘So,’ he says and glances at Taylor across the room, ‘Is college everything you expected? Playing ball and finding yourself or something?’
Chad stares at Ryan’s hands like he thinks Ryan doesn’t notice. ‘Or something,’ he mumbles.
‘You never called,’ Ryan blurts out and decides that this was a very bad idea the next second.
Chad looks down at his feet. ‘You didn’t, either.’
This is not the beginning of an end -
Eggnog knocked over and a bathroom door locked. Mouth to collarbone and arms wrapped around him and hands, hands, hands and Ryan quietly going crazy.
(Yes, he thinks. Like this.)
fin.
High School Musical, Chad/Ryan, post-HSM3 (PG)
1 360 words. Thanks and love, as always, to autoridade.
notes: I promise that this is the last HSM-related post I'll make in weeks.
Gabriella forwards an essay-long message from Chad. Ryan knows that this is probably all Taylor’s doing.
It doesn’t really say much; that, more than anything, makes him uncomfortable.
Gabriella makes them all promise to keep in touch after graduation; passes around lists with email addresses and marks colleges with pins on a map. Ryan’s is purple, because Gabriella doesn’t know about subtlety, and very, very far away from New Mexico.
That summer, they make a lot of promises they don’t keep.
He sees Kelsi at least four times a day, every day, and Gabriella sends updates on Troy’s adventures in theatre and basketball dutifully once a week. She signs every email with far too many x’s and equally many o’s, and Ryan has given up pointing that out.
Taylor always sends carbon copies of her replies to everyone, though Ryan never really understands why. He thought, briefly, about asking her to come down to the city over a weekend, but that way lies memories of other people, and Ryan has enough of those under his bed as it is.
He has not deleted a single photo from his phone in a year and a half.
Sharpay writes emails with terrible punctuation; Ryan saw this coming at eight, when their dad bought him his first computer. It’s amazing to me, he replies to one, that I’m the dyslexic one but still manage not to write like an eleven-year-old. (No smilies; this is a given.)
His sister calls twelve minutes later, yelling into his ear. Ryan is not surprised.
He tries so hard not to focus on the names she ticks off that he stumbles over his shoelaces when Sharpay mentions that Danforth and I keep bumping into each other and I swear to God, I never know what to say. Curses her under his breath.
It’s not that he doesn’t have an email address or a phone number or a home in the right part of Albuquerque; it’s just that some things are better left alone.
All the same, Ryan has to keep reminding himself that college is about moving on. (It’s not like Chad has called him, either.)
October is hellish in every way -
Ryan ignores the phone every time it rings.
Taylor comes to visit, eventually, but Ryan knows it’s probably mostly because she’d feel guilty otherwise. With Kelsi off in a practice room, they spend two quietly uncomfortable hours in a diner and he thinks that it makes sense, now, why they were never really friends.
Taylor drinks her coffee like she’s disappointed. ‘Um,’ she says, and looks out to the street, ‘Do you still talk to him?’ (No, Ryan realises, this is why they were never really friends.)
He shrugs and hopes it looks just a little bit nonchalant. ‘I -’
‘Yeah,’ she replies as though she knows exactly where this is going, ‘Me neither.’
He gets Taylor drunk on margaritas in his dorm because he doesn’t know what else to do. ‘I always thought about you two, you know,’ she says like it doesn’t matter and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling.
‘You knew?’ Ryan tries very hard not to sound surprised.
She nods slowly and wraps her fingers around his wrist. ‘I knew.’
He mixes her another drink. (This is probably a bad idea, considering.)
Ryan starts replying to Gabriella’s emails with more than two sentences. He sends blind copies to Sharpay and Taylor; if something should happen, he theorises, one of them will let the rest know.
Gabriella forwards an essay-long message from Chad. Ryan knows that this is probably all Taylor’s doing.
It doesn’t really say much; that, more than anything, makes him uncomfortable.
At some point in high school, everyone had a crush on Troy. Ryan would like to think that his tastes have improved, since.
He knows they probably haven’t.
He doesn’t quite drunk-dial Chad a week before Christmas. There’s a text message and he realises, later, that even drunk he spells correctly, and isn’t that ironic? Ryan thinks it’s in his thumbs; his muscle memory has always been impeccable.
He understands perfectly well that I miss you would be innocent to others, but none of those people has a name starting with C. Ryan wonders if he should tell Sharpay to ignore Chad more than usual on campus, but he knows his sister and she’d probably ask more questions than he is willing to answer.
Ryan doesn’t really want avoidance. (That’s a problem, he’s pretty sure.)
He’s about to board a flight to New Mexico when Sharpay calls, voice high and impatient. ‘Don’t even pretend that you’re not elated I’m calling you four times a day,’ she begins and Ryan can’t quite keep from rolling his eyes. ‘Please tell Danforth to talk to you about you. I cannot have him following me around like a puppy. It does nothing for my reputation.’
Ryan drops his boarding card. ‘He does what?’
‘Don’t ask me,’ she sighs and smacks her lips together loudly. ‘Ryan, promise me you’ll fix whatever weird long-distance sexual tension you’ve got going on, because he is clearly too stupid to figure it out.’
Ryan rubs his face. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Obliviousness is very unattractive,’ Sharpay says.
He swallows slowly. ‘You don’t say.’
His sister hangs up.
Gabriella throws a party and Ryan tries to fake a fever, because mistletoe and eggnog are not things that go well together with Chad. He’s really rather convincing, but Sharpay only glares at him and throws a pillow in his face. ‘You can’t lie to me, Ryan; you’re a performer.’
‘So are you,’ he replies and bites his tongue to keep from adding and we both know who the better actor is.
Sharpay doesn’t award him so much as a snarl. ‘Besides which,’ she says and measures her voice carefully, ‘You promised me to get Idiot Boy off my back.’
‘I did no such thing,’ he smiles. Turns his head to the wall and mumbles and that’s not his name under his breath.
He dresses up anyway, of course. (Makes very sure that he and Sharpay clash, however.)
Troy hugs him like he’s important and Ryan is surprised at how much he cares, still. (He maybe hasn’t moved on, then, at all.) Gabriella smiles, eyes bright and arm hooked with Taylor’s. Ryan fixes on a point on the wall behind them; Jason to the right, to the left - oh.
Taylor offers him a glass of eggnog. ‘Virgin,’ she murmurs and looks a little too pleased, ‘I know what you’re like drunk.’
Ryan shifts his gaze to his shoes.
It’s later (much, much later), when he has exhausted Martha’s interest and Kelsi’s patience that Ryan searches his sister’s eyes out. Idiot Boy, she mouths, and it’s the least subtle she’s ever been. He knows she’s right; Troy and Gabriella are not drunk enough - will never be drunk enough - not to notice avoidance, and people talk.
Ryan’s hand shakes a little as it taps a shoulder. Chad’s eyes are soft and unsure and this is not how it should have played out, dammit, but Ryan clears his throat anyway.
There is no hi, I’m really sorry about that thing where I said I missed you -
‘There is less mistletoe here than I thought there would be,’ Chad says and sounds almost certain.
Ryan smiles, barely. ‘Gabriella has shown surprising ornamental restraint, yeah.’ Clears his throat again, for effect; Ryan is an actor. ‘Sharpay claims that you stalk her.’
Chad chokes on his drink. ‘The campus isn’t that big.’
(Oh, but Ryan recognises a lie when he hears one.)
‘So,’ he says and glances at Taylor across the room, ‘Is college everything you expected? Playing ball and finding yourself or something?’
Chad stares at Ryan’s hands like he thinks Ryan doesn’t notice. ‘Or something,’ he mumbles.
‘You never called,’ Ryan blurts out and decides that this was a very bad idea the next second.
Chad looks down at his feet. ‘You didn’t, either.’
This is not the beginning of an end -
Eggnog knocked over and a bathroom door locked. Mouth to collarbone and arms wrapped around him and hands, hands, hands and Ryan quietly going crazy.
(Yes, he thinks. Like this.)
fin.