Gift for likespring
Author: roseclaw
Recipient: likespring
Title: Chad versus the Kissing Booth
Pairing(s): Chad/Ryan and Troy/Gabriella
Summary: For the record, Chad was against the whole thing from the beginning.
Rating: PG
Warning(s): This fic features asshole!Troy. I also think this is the tamest slash I have ever written.
Word Count: ~9,000 words
Disclaimer: All High School Musical characters herein are the property of Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: The kissing booth idea belongs to sparrowlove. I apologize on the boys’ behalf for not writing any smut for this story, but it wouldn’t have fit without making the story awkward. Thanks to my glorious beta! Also, I do not condone the use of any conjugation of “to get” in place of any conjugation of “to be.”
This is Taylor’s idea. She had gone to Troy about it, and he had agreed straight out, the traitor. They both went to the administration and somehow convinced them it was a good idea. I had no say in anything whatsoever. I had sulked, but as I stand on the stage of the auditorium, blinded by the stage lights but still feel everyone’s eyes on me, I feel mildly intimidated.
“Here we have number eight, Chad Danforth!” Taylor announces into her microphone. “He’s handsome and has the best hair of anyone on the basketball team. He also has an impressive GPA, which may come in handy if you need extra help with homework or studying for APs, which - don’t forget, people - are right around the corner.”
Of course, Taylor would drop that reminder. Maybe the administration put her up to it when she proposed this crazy idea of a fundraiser to them.
“I’ll give you twenty bucks!” a girl shouts. I can’t see her through the stage lights, but I’m fairly certain it’s Jessie. I dated her when we were freshmen. She’s on the cheer squad now and still smoking hot. Too bad there’s nothing in her head. I broke up with her, because she couldn’t keep up in a class discussion. I haven’t decided if that was snobby or not. It wouldn’t be so bad to be at her beck and call for the next week, though.
“Twenty-five!” Again, I can’t see who’s speaking, but that voice is male. I think it’s Alex, who’s on the baseball team with me. He’s also dumb as bricks.
“Thirty!” Jessie counters.
“Thirty-five!” It’s a new bidder, still female, and not Jessie. It might be Courtney. We dated in middle school. I don’t remember if it was in seventh or eighth grade. She’s pretty and smart. She broke up with me.
“Forty!” Alex shouts.
“Forty-five!” Courtney bids.
“Fifty!” Jessie declares.
“Fifty a day for the entire week!” It’s a new male voice. And it’s followed by stunned silence. Unfortunately, only one guy would have that kind of money to spend. He also has no reason to bid to being with. Doesn’t he have maids or something? Sure he’s a friend and all, but does he have to rent me out?
“Any higher bidders?” Taylor asks, her voice betraying her shock. Unsurprisingly, no one speaks up. “Okay. Sold to Ryan Evans for $350.”
---
“It’s only a week, man,” Troy says. “There’s no need to be upset about it. Maybe he’ll use you as a shield against his sister or something.”
“I’m not upset about being rented out to Ryan. I’m upset that I’ve been rented out!” There are some things that Troy will never understand about me. First and foremost is that I don’t believe in everything he believes. Especially if he thinks it’s a good idea. Last summer for example.
“He’s not going to jump you or anything. Taylor made sure those rules were made clear.”
“Did you even hear what I said?”
“Yeah, you don’t like being a Rent-A-Jock, but it’s a great fundraiser for the Student Council. I think you made more than the rest of the team combined.”
I scowl at him. Once again, Troy Bolton misses the point. Gabriella had purchased him, so he has nothing to worry about. It doesn’t matter that there’s a whole ‘nother world out there. I love the guy dearly, man. It’s just sometimes I wish he weren’t so self-centered.
It’s too much like a slavery auction for my liking, and it will probably always leave a bad taste in my mouth. Only instead of seven years of indentured service, it’s seven days. Again, something Troy will never understand.
“What do you think he’s going to make you do?” Troy asks.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’m not going to ask what Gabriella’s going to make you do.”
“She’s - ”
“I don’t want to know,” I interrupt hastily.
He smiles smugly.
And, thank God, here comes Taylor.
“Thank you so much, Chad!” she gushes. “You helped push the Student Council to over one thousand dollars! Prom tickets are going to be approximately twenty dollars each!” She gives me a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re welcome,” I wheeze.
“Oh, and remember that you have to meet with Ryan before your baseball game. Have your schedule ready so he knows when you’re free. If there are any problems, let me know, but I doubt there will be.”
“Yeah, thanks, Taylor.”
She smiles at me before bouncing off down the hallway. She and the SC win, and I lose. I want to find the nearest unyielding object and bang my head against it, but I don’t think Troy would appreciate it.
“I need to head to my locker before Open’s over. Go find your girlfriend and be disgustingly sweet or something.”
Troy beams.
I shake my head as I head to my locker where Ryan is waiting for me.
“Hey, man, way to be creepy.”
“I pushed the Student Council to over a thousand dollars. Your girlfriend is very happy with both you and me.”
“You know she’s not my girlfriend. Okay, so she kinda is, but she’s not.” It’s really complicated, and I don’t want to think about it now. Anyway, he should know all this already. “Why’d you do it?”
He shrugs.
“There has to be some reason, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it, and you wouldn’t be waiting for me here.”
He shrugs again. When he wants to be, he’s just as infuriating as his sister.
“Whatever. Meet me out on the diamond before the game. I’ll give you my schedule.”
He smiles. It’s that tiny smile that I’ve come to realize means I’m underestimating him but he’s too, well, shy to point it out. Well, at least I’ll have something to think about for the rest of the day. It’s not like I need to pay attention in class. Ha.
I shake my head and walk away.
Taylor is still smiling her pursed-lips smile that gives her dimples when she struts into our AP Lit class. I’ve never felt more like a piece of meat, and I used to think that being a piece of meat was a good thing, especially that time with Mary and Terri on the girls b-ball team in the girls’ locker room at West last year. But now I don’t like feeling like meat, mostly because meat never has a say in anything.
All I need to do is make it through the rest of the week, but I have a feeling that today is going to feel like a damn week.
Okay, so the Taylor thing. After the championship game last year, I was so hopped up on adrenaline that I would have jumped anything with breasts. Unfortunately for me at the time, Taylor’s not that kind of girl, no matter how smokin’ her body is. I admire that about her. That she’s not that kind of girl.
I think at the time - after I realized that Taylor wouldn’t let me try anything - I think I thought that if Troy could be in a serious relationship, so could I. Which was a stupid idea at the time. But I like Taylor. She’s an awesome girl. I just don’t think that she’s long term girlfriend material. Long term friend, totally, just not girlfriend.
We’ve been on exactly four and a half dates in the year and a handful of months we’ve been dating. Taylor probably knows the more precise amount of time.
Date One: After the championship game at the Bolton’s. She and I grabbed a plate of pizza and snuck out into the Bolton’s backyard. We talked about everything and ate pizza. I piled on the charm, and she proved immune.
Date Two: The movies with Troy and Gabriella. The movie was boring, and the girls talked to each other the entire time.
Date Three: The first “proper” date, even though I still don’t have a car. We went to dinner at some place that cost me a day’s pay. We talked. Afterwards, I kissed her on the cheek. That’s as far as she let me go. I put a hand on her thigh, but she slapped me away.
Date Three and a Half: We went to Cliff’s. I had a bad corn dog and ended up puking all over her new open-toed shoes. The only reason I realized they were open-toed was because I wiped the puke off them. She held my hair back while I puked some more - not on her shoes that time. She was really sweet about it, didn’t yell at me: she just cradled my head and held my hair away from my face with a soothing hand on my back. My mother did the same to me once when I had the stomach flu when I was 10.
Date Four: We went to a pool hall with Troy and Gabriella. It was teams: girls versus boys. The girls won, nattering on about the math of playing pool. They hugged each other excitedly, but they kinda ignored us.
Date number four was when I realized that I was treating Taylor like I treat my older sister. As disturbing and incestuous as it is, I’ve gone farther with my sister than with Taylor: my sister kisses me on the cheek whenever she comes home from college. Taylor hasn’t even kissed me yet. I’ve kinda backed off since then, and she apparently has no problem with that. We haven’t officially come out and made a public announcement about our kinda-sorta break-up, but we know, and right now that’s all that matters.
“Chad,” Taylor hisses at me.
“What?” I frown. I don’t think I’ve - okay, I totally did space out.
“You’re miles away. Class is over.”
“Sorry. I was remembering the time I puked all over your feet.”
She smiles wryly and smacks me lightly on the shoulder. “Good times. C’mon, lover boy, it’s time for lunch.”
---
I’m late out to the field and pulling up my red socks when Ryan enters the locker room. He must have wandered in after seeing that I hadn’t made it out to the diamond yet.
“Hey, I wrote down my schedule.” I riffle through my backpack until I find the paper I’m looking for and hand it to him.
“Uh, thanks.”
I give him a quick smile as I slip on my cleats. “You gonna stay and watch the game?”
“No. I need to do some things before I have you on a leash.”
“Hey, now. Nothing kinky.” I wink at him, and he flounders for what to say. “I’ll see you later. You have my cell number. Just make sure it’s not around midnight or something. I need my beauty sleep too.”
He turns a little pink around the edges.
“I’ll see you later, Evans.” I clap him on the shoulder, grab my mitt, and head out to the diamond.
---
Ryan’s waiting for me in the locker room when the game ends. I’m covered from head to toe in mud and lime and possibly a grass stain or two, and all I want is a shower. East won in the bottom of the tenth. 10 to 11. Thank God, because I couldn’t have gone two extra innings. The one was bad enough.
Alex wolf whistles at us. I flip him off, and he laughs. Josh shoves at his shoulder, and they head off to their own lockers.
Josh congratulates me on the game on his way out.
“Where’s my congrats?” Alex demands.
Josh laughs out, “Right here, man.” And slaps Alex on the ass.
Alex yelps and punches Josh before they’re out of sight around the lockers.
Ryan ignores them as he raises an eyebrow and plucks a blade of grass from my hair. “Looks like I missed an interesting game.” His tone is wry enough to remind me of Taylor when she’s trying to humor me.
“Yeah, man. You should have seen it. Alex hit a triple in the bottom of the tenth, then I batted him home.”
“That doesn’t explain the grass.”
“No, that had to do with the top of the fifth. North High had set up for a grand slam, but it was a fly to left. The sun was in my eyes, so I miscalculated the distance and had to dive for it. But I caught it!”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, dude. So what’s up?” I pour my school clothes out of my locker and into my bag. I’m going to change at home - after I shower.
“I was hoping that you could join me for - tonight.”
“Like right now?”
“I was hoping so, yes.”
Matt sneaks up on me and slaps my shoulder with a muttered, “Good game.” He then hurries out of the locker room before I can respond. I think that’s the most he’s ever said to me.
“Um… can I stop off at home to shower first? I kinda reek, and I have stains in my clothing I can’t identify.”
Ryan wrinkles his nose in distaste. When I was younger, I had a dog that made a face like that one time when he stuck his face into a jar of horseradish. “I suppose I could let you freshen up.”
“I’ll make sure to slip into something more comfortable while I’m at it.” I roll my eyes at him. “Anyway, one of the boys is giving me a lift. I’ll be at your house in an hour, okay?”
“An hour’s fine, but you don’t have a car.”
“I know. I can borrow my Dad’s.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“Okay. Uh, am I going to need to bring my books and stuff?”
“Um… sure.” Odd. He doesn’t want me for the brain thing, otherwise he would have said straight out for me to bring my books.
I force a smile and head out.
---
My parents took this week long commitment better than I did. They think that it will be a good opportunity for when I’m out in the real world. I told them that I had a job last summer, but they say it’s different, like practice for having a job (school) and a wife (Ryan) to balance… Um. I’m not going to think about Ryan as a wife ever again. So, of course, the first thing that pops into my head is Ryan in drag. He looks disturbingly like his sister.
I’m going to feel unclean for weeks; although, I feel better after a shower - but only marginally.
The doorbell rings, and I race to be there before my parents can cause any damage to my soul.
I make it, and I’m almost out the door with Ryan and my bag before my father - my father - says, “Have fun with your wife.”
I want to die. Or have the ground swallow me up. Or have the four horsemen race down my street. I’d even settle for Michael Crawford.
“Bye!” I grit out to my parents and push Ryan outside.
“What was - ” Ryan starts to ask.
“Parents are never allowed to use metaphors,” I say hastily.
He gives me a confused look.
“They compared this whole Rent-A-Jock thing to “the real world” - if you can believe it. School is my job, and you’re my, uh, my wife.”
Ryan laughs lightly. “Can I call you ‘pookie’ then?”
“Oh, God, please don’t!”
“I can’t call you ‘pookie,’ but you can call me ‘God’?”
“Dude, not cool.”
“You could do worse. I mean, you could be married to my sister,” he says in that understated way of his.
“I’m going to need bleach for my brain.” I’m not going to mention Ryan in drag, because - that’s totally wrong on so many levels.
“I could put on a wig and a dress if that helps,” he adds thoughtfully.
I’m embarrassed by the choking sound I make.
“I’m joking. C’mon. Get in the car so we can do this.”
I do as he says, and we’re half way to his house before I ask, “What exactly are we doing?”
“We’re helping out my Mom.”
“Really, though, why did you put up 350 bucks for me?”
“My mother is running a charity carnival. I want you to help out.”
“Why couldn’t you just ask me to do it? Why pay for it?”
“It looks good on taxes.”
“I’m a tax write-off?!”
“I suppose.”
“That is not cool!”
“I had to make sure that you weren’t busy at that time.”
“So ask me. I gave you a schedule to work around. I could have done the carnival and been someone else’s Rent-A-Jock.” He needs to stop being Troy. It’s kinda scary, actually. They’re both so damn selfish. I guess it makes some sort of perverse sense that an Evans would be selfish.
“I wanted you to be my Rent-A-Jock.” He smiles at me coyly.
I release a frustrated sigh. “Next time, just ask, okay? I mean, what would you have done if I had a family thing this weekend in - I don’t know - visiting my sister in Santa Fe?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Whatever. Just ask. Don’t take. God, I feel like a piece of meat - or a whore. I hate Taylor for this.”
“Don’t hate your girlfriend,” he admonishes softly.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my friend who happens to be a girl.”
“I’m sorry. Did she dump you?”
“It was a mutual thing. Don’t be sorry. So what do you want me to do at the carnival?” I really don’t want to talk about Taylor.
“We had someone back out at the last minute. He - he was going to man the kissing booth.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.”
“Impressed?”
“Of the lengths you’d go for your mother.”
“Oh. Yeah. I would.”
I sigh. This was not what I had expected when he bid on me. I did expect some ulterior motive, though.
“I’ll have to think about it. I’d love to help out, but… why did the other person back out?”
“I threatened his masculinity.”
“With a dull spoon or by being you?”
“He thought I was going to pay for him to kiss me.”
“Were you?”
“He wasn’t my type.” He smirks at me.
“Oh? You have a type now? You didn’t earlier this year,” I tease.
“Yeah. I have a type.”
“That means that you have a crush.”
“No, that means that I have a type.”
“So what’s your type?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome.”
“You and every woman ever.” I roll my eyes at him. “Should he also be mysterious and have a good sense of humor as well?”
“Stop it. I’m already a walking cliché. Don’t make it worse.”
“I can make it worse?”
He playfully smacks my shoulder… much like what Taylor had done earlier.
“It’s the hats. You see, if they were straight…”
He smacks me again.
“Seriously, though: ‘tall, dark, and handsome’? That’s Zeke. You and your sister aren’t - you don’t share… or at the same time… do you?”
“We’re Evans. We don’t share. Even if Shar weren’t my sister, she’s still female, both of which are gross by the way. Eww! How could you even think that?”
I shrug. “I had to ask.”
“Why?”
“You’re really close.”
“She’s my friend. Aren’t you friends with your sister?”
“Yeah. And I’ve gone farther with her than with Taylor.”
“What?! No, you haven’t!”
“I totally have. My sister kisses me on the cheek whenever she sees me.”
“Taylor didn’t - ”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I interrupt. I really don’t want to talk about it. Everyone makes such a big deal about how Taylor didn’t put out. Like virginity is some horrible burden that needs to be released. Just because I don’t want mine doesn’t mean I should think less of those who want theirs.
“It was Javier,” he says quietly.
“So your type is European as well?”
“That’s not one of the qualities I look for, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s the accent, isn’t it?”
“Javier doesn’t have an accent.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Stop it, you.”
“How long do I have to think about it?”
“You have three minutes.”
“I have until I walk into your house,” I say in a deadpan.
“Yes.”
“Great.” I sigh. “I’ll do it.”
There’s a moment of stunned, awkward silence before he grins brightly. “Thank you!”
---
“Mom!” Ryan says proudly as he whips off his hat. “Chad has offered to take Tyler’s place in your carnival.”
Offered, my ass.
I steal his hat and place it on my own head. It has difficulty with my curls, and it ends up about an inch from my head.
“That’s wonderful, Ducky!” Mrs. Evans gushes. “Thank you, Chad.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.”
“Would you boys like some cookies?”
“No, thanks, Mom.” Ryan smiles sweetly. “We’re going to hang out in my room for a while.”
I frown at him. “I’ll take one anyway, Mrs. Evans.” I grab a cookie and follow Ryan to his room.
We settle into his room, and he steals his hat back. There’s an awkward silence. I assume the real reason he wanted me over was to talk about the carnival. I assume he expected it would take him the rest of the night to convince me, so now he seems at a loss for what to do. Ryan is socially awkward to begin with. Taylor called it socially retarded, which is a symptom of what her sister calls “boy disease.” Her sister and my sister are friends, and in high school, they devised some boy rules together. My sister drilled into me that I should never break those rules, but I’m still “socially retarded” according to Taylor. Anyway, Ryan is more awkward than retarded, meaning it’s up to me to make things less awkward.
“Tell me more about the carnival. Like, what’s it for?”
“It’s for leukemia awareness and research. One of my Mom’s friends is being treated, so it’s to help her pay and raise funds.”
“And your Mom’s planning all this by herself?”
“No, a bunch of other people are helping her, but she’s the head of the committee.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah. It’s being held at Lava Springs, so they save money, because they don’t need to rent a place. There’s going to be fair food and games and stuff.”
“And booths,” I add wryly.
“I’m sure you’ll be a hit.”
“Are you doing anything at the carnival?”
“I’m going to be working the dunk tank.”
“Really?! So I’d be able to dunk you?”
“Only if I’d be able to kiss you,” he says casually.
I try not to visibly flinch. It’s not that I wouldn’t mind kissing him… it’s just, he’s my friend. It would be like kissing Taylor… only gayer. I can’t really explain it. It’s awkward, I know that.
“We’ll see how tired my lips are by the end of the day. Speaking of which, how long is this thing?”
“It’s six hours long: from 11 until 5.”
“That’s not bad.”
“No, and it’s for a good cause.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“No.”
We lapse into silence. I break it. “Was there another reason you needed me to be here?”
“Yeah. I need someone to run lines with.”
“Lines?”
“I’m in a summer production of “Once Upon a Mattress.””
I’ve never heard of that play. “What’s it about?”
“It’s a musical parody of “The Princess and the Pea.””
“Okay,” I nod. “Why aren’t you running lines with your sister? Wouldn’t she be better at that stuff than me?”
“She, uh, she’s upset with me, because I have a role and she doesn’t.”
“She doesn’t and you do? Are you that awesome?”
“You’ve never seen me perform, have you?”
I shake my head. I never put much thought into attending one of his shows. I played in my games, and he played in his plays. That’s the way it was. He wasn’t in that play with Troy, and that was the only school play I’ve ever been to.
He smirks. “I’m that awesome.”
---
Hanging out with Ryan isn’t that bad. I mean, things could totally be worse. We go over lines and do homework, and it’s nice, and Troy hates it by Friday. I reminded him that the whole Rent-A-Jock thing was okayed by him, and that didn’t go over too well. So now we’re not on speaking terms, and I really wish he would take his head out of his ass. He’s spending all his time with Gabriella, like always, so that means that, even though I’m otherwise occupied, I should still hang out with him. He acted like this when I started dating Taylor.
While we’re not on speaking terms, we are on shouting terms.
“Can I just say, once again, that this is your idea,” I snarl. Thank God it’s finally Friday. I don’t think I could deal with this for much longer.
“You were supposed to - ” Troy growls back.
“Supposed to what!” I shout.
“Chad,” Taylor says firmly, stepping between me and Troy. “Let’s go.”
“Not until this fucker takes his head out of his ass and takes responsibility for his own goddamned actions!”
Taylor places a hand on my chest. “I said: let’s go.”
I look down at her hand splayed across my chest. It’s so tiny, contrasting against the bright yellow of my shirt.
“Fine,” I mutter. “He’s not worth it anyway.”
She leads me away from Troy, down the hall to the chem room.
“What was that about?” Taylor demands with her hands on her hips.
“I told him about what I’m doing this weekend, and he lost it.”
“Lost it how?”
“Just started freaking out about how I was spending all of my time with Ryan. Well, duh. I’m his Rent-A-Jock. Troy agreed to this whole thing. Why is he so damn - I really wish he would pull his head out of his ass.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” she asks gently.
“Ryan’s Mom is doing a charity carnival thing, and I’m running a booth.”
“Really now?” Her tone is incredulous, not inquisitive.
“Yeah.”
“And what, specifically, will you be doing?” Someday she is going to make a good lawyer.
“The kissing booth,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re going to help them raise a lot of money,” she says. Her smile is sad. Not her too. And how would she know if I’m a good kisser?
“What’s wrong?” I ask in trepidation.
She doesn’t look at me, just goes still.
“We never did that,” she says quietly.
“I know.” I nod, still not understanding the connection. She never let me. I wanted to.
“We… our relationship isn’t working.”
“What’s wrong with our relationship?” I frown. “We’re friends.”
“Right.”
“Anything else kinda ended when I threw up all over your feet.”
“That wasn’t exactly your most shining moment,” she says wryly, smiling slightly.
I smile back.
“I guess I just haven’t admitted it to myself yet.”
I scoop her into a hug.
“I’m going to come to the fair,” she says resolutely into my shoulder.
“It’s for a good cause: leukemia. But you know that you never had to pay me money for a kiss.”
She halfheartedly shoves at my shoulder as my phone goes off. I set a new ringtone for Ryan: “Works Hard for the Money.” I found it amusing. Apparently, Taylor does too, because she giggle-snorts into my shoulder.
She detaches herself from me as I answer. “What’s up?”
“Your friend is in a snit,” Ryan says dryly.
“It’s best to stay away from him.” I match his tone.
“He found me.”
“Tell him Gabriella’s looking for him.”
“She’s right next to me.”
“Oh. Then I got nothing.”
“That isn’t what I paid for,” he teases.
“Hey now! Troy was not part of the bargain.”
“Help me anyway.”
I sigh. “Where are you?”
“The theater.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” I tell him reluctantly and hang up.
“What was that about?” Taylor asks.
“I need to go play knight in shining armor. Care to join me?”
“Sure. Someone needs to keep you from killing Troy.”
---
“Troy, what the hell?” I demand.
He’s in the middle of a rant about who the hell knows what. Gabriella looks upset. Ryan looks bored.
Troy’s mouth snaps shut.
“What is going on, man? You’re acting really weird and upsetting a lot of people.”
“This - He - ” Troy pointed at Ryan and sputtered.
“C’mon, Ry,” Gabriella says, leading Ryan out of the auditorium.
Taylor joins them, leaving me with Troy, which may not be the best idea ever.
“Seriously, man, what’s going on?”
“He keeps flirting with Gabby and - ”
“Gabby’s not his type. Why would you - ”
“You’re his type,” he grinds out.
“So’s Zeke,” I bite back.
“And both of you are my friends - ”
“What do you have against Ryan?”
“I don’t have - ”
“Troy,” I growl.
“He’s just like his sister, Chad. He thinks he’s better than - ”
“No, he doesn’t, Troy. He’s a nice guy.”
“His sister - ”
“He’s not his sister. You don’t know him like I - ”
“Are you dating him?” he blurts out.
It makes a moment for my mind to catch up with what he’s implying. “What?! I’m his Rent-A-Jock, asshole. Why would you say that?”
“You’re working at that carnival with him - ”
“I am secure enough in my masculinity that I don’t have to worry about being seen with the guy.”
“He’s trying to seduce you like his sister tried to seduce me.”
“No, he’s not. And if he were, I can handle myself. We’re friends. Is that what bothers you? That you have to share me now?”
“No. I just want - I don’t know.”
“Then leave us alone. You agreed to this Rent-A-Jock thing. Don’t you dare blame me.”
“It’s not healthy to spend all your time with him,” he mumbles.
“I’m not. I was just with Taylor. So next time you think something’s a good idea in your head, don’t attack people - especially your friends.” Okay, so that makes no sense, but I’m too angry to care.
“Yeah man, whatever.”
I glare at him and head out.
---
Ryan, Taylor, and Gabriella are sitting on the front steps of the school. Gabriella’s mouth is running faster than the words are falling out. She sees me, and the words stop.
Okay.
“Chad, I’m so sorry about Troy. This is all my fault.” Gabriella sounds close to tears.
I bite back my reflex to say that it’s not her fault, that she shouldn’t blame herself. “Why do you think this is your fault?”
“I - ” She cuts herself off. “I’m so sorry!” she repeats.
“About what?”
“Troy’s been such a jerk this past week. I’m temped to ask Taylor for a refund.”
“Why has he been acting like that?” I ask cautiously. I have a good idea why, and I don’t like it.
“He’s - His parents are very open-minded, but he…”
“He’s homophobic?” I gape at her. The Troy I know gave everybody a chance. Everybody. Even Hannah Smith, who had headgear every year of middle school.
Gabriella looks down at her hands and nods.
I sigh. “That explains a lot.”
“I’m really sorry, Chad,” she says.
“Yeah, well, you should also be apologizing to Ryan, too,” I mutter and stalk off. I don’t have the mental stamina to deal with Troy’s shortcomings.
---
Ryan picks me up Saturday morning at 10 to head over to Lava Springs at my request. Okay, so I admit, most of it is because his car is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen: Mustang GT Convertible - rubber ducky yellow. Apparently, that’s a theme with him. I ultimately decided not to ask… after he attempted to glare a hole in my head and threatened to hire someone to eliminate all future generations of Danforths just for laughing. And not give me rides.
We don’t talk in the car, but he has no problem ordering me around once we get there. My booth is directly across the way from his booth, so I’m able to see him whenever he’s dunked. Which makes me laugh every time it happens, which is oh too infrequently. He makes an interesting, surprised face when he realizes that there’s nothing keeping him above the water. Sharpay looks equally as happy whenever he is dunked. She’s the one handing out the balls to throw at the target on the booth.
I, however, have a line of so many six-year-old girls that I have no idea what to do with them, other than what they’ve paid for. I’ve had them all as customers before - over the past three hours. Now, though, there is someone in line who is over three and a half feet tall. It’s throwing me off.
It’s Taylor. I smile at her. She said that she was going to be here, and here she is.
“Now I understand why Troy didn’t want you to come,” she teases me. “You have more female admirers than him.”
I wink at her. “Do you wish to pay for my services as well?”
“I thought you said I never had to pay.” She smiles at me coyly. More coltishly than seductively. She slips a fiver across the booth. “But it’s for a good cause.”
“Alright.” I shrug. “My lips are a bit sore. I’ve been going nonstop for the past few hours.”
“It’s not the quality I’m looking for.” She smiles so her dimples show, and then she looks down. “Yes, honey?”
“If you’re not going to kiss him, it’s my turn,” a girl says petulantly.
“Oh, I’m gonna kiss him, honey.” She leans across the booth and kisses me on the lips. It’s just a connection on lips like every other person I’ve kissed in the past few hours. I was expecting something more… I don’t know, connective. Like a spark or something. Fireworks? No, that’s too clichéd.
But there was nothing.
She kisses me again, and there’s still nothing there. She pulls away and looks at me sadly. “At least you’re making them happy.”
I frown. She looks like she’s about to cry. I can’t deal with that now - I need to do this thing for Ryan’s mother.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” she says.
I nod, and she heads over to the dunk tank line.
The girl who had hassled Taylor is a repeat customer. This time she has twenty dollars. Where do these kids get money like this? My parents gave me an allowance of five bucks a week until I was thirteen. Then nothing. Until I decided to get a job. Or begged my sister. I must owe her over a thousand dollars.
I sigh and kiss her again. I do feel unclean. This is dangerously close to pedophilia. At least I don’t take perverse pleasure in kissing the kids, but I do take pleasure in helping out.
---
Ryan races up to me as soon as the fair is officially over. His hair is dripping wet, his designer clothes are sticking to his body in random places, and I’ve never seen him look happier.
“I knew you’d be a hit!”
“Just part of the Danforth charm.”
“How much did you make?”
“Close to three g’s.” I smile back at him.
“Mom will be so happy with this!”
He bounds off to where his mother is talking to someone official-looking.
---
“I wasn’t able to dunk you, man,” I complain as he drives me to school on Monday morning.
“And I wasn’t able to kiss you,” he counters.
“Fair enough. You wouldn’t get your money’s worth, though. I think my lips are still numb. Those six-year-old girls wouldn’t let up.”
He mutters something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Oh crap. Please tell me that Troy was not right. “Ryan. I’ve got a question for you.”
He frowns. “Okay,” he says apprehensively.
“Have we - were we just flirting?”
He smiles softly.
“I mean… I really don’t want to admit that maybe Troy may have had a point, but I just thought that since Taylor pointed out that - I’m gonna shut up now.”
“Yes, Chad. We were. I thought you knew.”
“How could I know that?”
“Because I’m really flaming?”
“No, I mean I thought I was just teasing. I never thought that - ” I take a deep breath. “Does that mean that Troy was right?”
“No,” Ryan says tersely. “Troy will never be right. He believes that I would result to subterfuge. Plus, you’re not my type.”
“Ryan… Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome? I’m exactly your type.”
“Fine,” he mumbles. “You’re exactly my type.”
“Wow. Okay. Uh…” This is going to take some time to process. I bang my head back against the headrest of the car seat.
“Are you freaking out?”
“About you crushing or about Troy being kinda right?”
“Troy isn’t right,” he tells me. “He has a very narrow view of what is going on. The rest is based on assumptions.”
“Let me think about it,” I say. I feel completely blindsided by this. I also feel like I should give my sister a call.
Ryan smiles at me sadly.
---
“ - And we have the nominations in for senior prom king and queen! Your top four nominations for queen are Sharpay Evans, Jessie Lee, Gabriella Montez, and Lexi Woods. Congratulations, ladies. May the best girl win.
“Now for our gentlemen. The nominations for king are Troy Bolton, Chad Danforth, Ryan Evans, and Mark Weston. Congratulations, boys.
“Please vote during lunches. The SC will have a booth set up directly outside the cafeteria with ballots, and they will also be selling tickets. With all of the fundraisers this year, tickets will be twenty dollars each.”
Troy glares at me across the isle in homeroom. As if I had anything to do with my nomination. It’s an honor, I suppose. It’s just… I have more important things to worry about.
Zeke nudges my shoulder. “Congrats, man.” He says this to Ryan and Troy as well.
Two weeks and this stupid prom thing will be over… I kinda need a date, too. It wouldn’t do for the prom king not to have a prom queen date. That leaves me with Jessie, Lexi… or Ryan. He’s as much of a queen as those girls. That would shake things up. And probably lead him on, which would be cruel. And piss off Troy.
---
“Sis, we need to talk.” I managed to sneak away from prom date propositions and Troy during Open. No one is ever in practice room three then. Ryan laid his claim on it a while back, and I know for a fact that he’s making up a test he missed. I helped him study for it.
“Chad? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be in school?” She sounds concerned.
“I am in school. I have Open now.”
“Well, I have work now.” I hate it when she uses that haughty tone.
“Don’t hang up! I need your help!”
“You have thirty seconds to convince me this is worth risking my job,” she says flatly.
“I have a question about your rules for the boy disease thing.”
“Did you forget something and Taylor wants you to apologize? You should apologize.” And there’s that haughty tone again.
“What? No. It’s… uh. Taylor and I are just friends now. Remember the vomit incident? My question is about guys.”
“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” she asks skeptically.
“What do you think I’m asking you?” I challenge.
“Okay, this is worth risking my job. Tell me everything.”
“I just realized that I’ve been flirting with this guy for the past year. And now I can’t stop thinking about him. About - I don’t know. And Troy’s acting like a dick about it. And the three of us have been nominated for prom king. And - ”
“Chad, slow down. Congratulations on your nomination. Now, I need for you to focus for me and answer my questions honestly.”
“’Kay.”
“Do I know this boy?” she asks seriously.
“Yes. Uh, Ryan.”
“Ryan’s been nominated for prom king?”
“Why are you surprised about that?”
“I’m not. But from what you’ve told me, he doesn’t take competition lightly.”
“No,” I agree, “but his sister’s worse.”
“Is he dating anyone?” She’s grilling me now.
“No.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.”
“And prom dates?”
“No and no,” I list off unenthusiastically.
“Does he know that you just realized that you were flirting with him?”
“Yes. Uh. When he gave me a ride this morning.” That sounds dirty. “To school, not, uh. Right. ”
“And your response?”
“I, uh, told him I’d think about it,” I explain sheepishly.
“What have you been thinking about specifically?” she asks carefully.
“About Troy being a homophobic asshat. About - ”
“Are you sure he’s homophobic and not just hurt?” And this is what happens when your sister majors in psychology.
“What do you mean?”
“Why is he acting the way he is?”
“He doesn’t like Ryan ‘cause of his sister. She tried to seduce him last summer.”
“I remember. You called to complain to me every night.”
“Heh,” I say sheepishly. My sister has a way of doing that to me.
“So you need to talk to him about this. Just don’t hit him. It wouldn’t do to be expelled right before prom. So what else have you been thinking about?”
“He’s a good guy. All the girls call him sweet. I’m exactly his type. And Dad once called him my wife.”
“Dad did what?!” Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.
“It’s a long story involving an extended metaphor,” I attempt to explain. Awkwardly.
“Uh-huh,” she says incredulously. “How do you feel about him? Is he your type?”
“I think he’s a good guy. I really value our crazy-weird friendship. He’s - he’s refreshing. I don’t think I have a type yet, though. I really like him. I just didn’t think it was like that.”
“Is it “like that”?” I’ve never thought about it like that either.
I take a deep breath. “I think so, yeah.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
“I don’t know. Society?”
“Since when have you cared what other people think of you?”
“I’ve always cared what people think of me.”
“Why? You do your own thing anyway.”
“Right, but - ”
She cuts me off firmly. “Isn’t that the same as not caring what people think?”
“I kinda hate you,” I say sourly.
“You called me if you recall. For help. I’m helping.” She’s using that haughty tone again.
“You’re not telling me things I want to hear,” I mutter.
“Don’t grumble at me. If you wanted to hear what you wanted to hear, you wouldn’t have called me.”
“What should I do?” I ask helplessly.
“Talk to Ryan, and talk to Troy. Separately.”
“And tell them what?”
“Tell Ryan that you have a big, gay crush on him, and tell Troy that you’re the same person you were a week ago, and the only thing that has changed is that you finally put a label to yourself.” There is no way that it’s really that simple.
“Do you think that will work?”
“Call me if it doesn’t. Rather, text “emergency” to me, and I’ll call you.”
“How do I start those conversations?”
“I’m sure you can think of a way. I need to get back to work.” She says that with an air of finality that better not mean she’s about to leave me hanging.
“Like what - Hey! Don’t you hang up on me! …Damn it.”
---
“Be my prom date,” I blurt out.
Taylor stares at me. Gabriella stares at me. Zeke stares at me. Troy misses his mouth by an inch and accidently stabs himself in the cheek with his fork. Sharpay looks as if she’s going to murder me.
Ryan doesn’t do any of those things. He shoves a fry into his mouth and says, “Sure” without looking up. His lips twitch slightly in amusement. Well, I did find an interesting way of letting him know I was done freaking out.
“Good.” I nod and go back to eating my lunch.
---
“What were you thinking?” Taylor demands, jabbing her forefinger into my chest. “Does this have to do with Troy?”
“No, this has to do with society. A prom king should go to the prom with the queen, right? And Ryan’s more queen material than any of the girls nominated.”
“Chad, what - ”
“Prom’s kinda stupid in the scheme of things. It’s a social - ”
“Since when have you cared about deliberately falling outside social norms?” She folds her arms across her chest. “If I recall, just last year you and Troy -”
“Taylor, I spoke with my sister about everything, and she said I should go for it.”
“Everything?” She raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“Uh. I finally realized that Ryan and I were always flirting with each other,” I tell her with a shrug.
“And that’s what led to this?”
“No, mostly it’s about rubbing things in Troy’s face and breaking convention.”
“What about Ryan’s feelings?”
“What about them?”
“Are you going to hurt him?”
“No!” I would never do that to a friend.
“And when you’re done with your publicity stunt? How do you think that’ll make him feel?”
“I was, uh, planning on certain after-prom activities,” I mumble. I had been doing a lot of thinking about this, and I’m positive that is what I want with Ryan. He’s - he’s everything I tried to find in Taylor. Without the breasts. I can live without the breasts. And my god, Ryan’s ass is so…
She blinks at me rapidly. “…What? You want to - Wow, Chad. This is really unexpected.”
“Really? I don’t think it is. I think I just put a label on everything, that’s all.”
“No, I don’t mean you and Ryan. I meant you and Ryan.”
“I have no idea what that means. The gay thing or the Ryan thing?”
“Not the Ryan thing,” she says with a shake of her head. “The openness and… out-ness that you’d be shoving down everyone’s throats.”
I shrug. “They can deal.”
“I’m worried about you, honey.”
I take a deep breath. “Taylor, I’ve always been this brash. It’s kinda my thing.”
“But this time you’re taking Ryan along for the ride,” she points out.
“He’s already out.”
She gives me an unimpressed look.
I rake a hand through my curls. “Can you help me out, Tay?”
“With what?” she asks stonily. “I’m not going to help you dig yourself into your own grave - or hurt Ryan.”
“You’re going to be tallying the prom nominations, right?”
She nods and narrows her eyes.
“Can you rig it for me and Ryan to win king and queen?”
She stares at me intently for a long moment. She sucks her lips between her teeth, creating dimples. She then takes a deep breath and says, “I would need to run it by Ryan first. But if he agrees, you have to agree right now that you’re going to deal with Sharpay when she realizes that she lost the position of prom queen to her brother.”
“Deal!” I say quickly, before she can change her mind. I’ll figure out how to deal with Sharpay when the time comes. “Or you could make me the queen and Ryan the king… You’re the best, Taylor!”
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek as Troy bursts into the chem lab… apparently looking for me.
“So it was a stunt,” he growls. “You pretend to be gay in front of the entire basketball team, then come in here to mack on your girlfriend.”
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes. “Yes, Troy,” I say in a deadpan. “I also do the same with my sister, so if you’re going to dole out the insults, you might as well include incestuous.”
“Look, I’m sorry, man, but you can’t just break away from the status quo by - ”
“Dating the nerdy new girl?” I snap back. “We’ve been through this before, Troy, except it was the other way around. It’s no different.”
“Are you saying that you were serious?”
I nod. “And that I love Taylor like my sister.”
Taylor raises a wry eyebrow at me.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her towards me.
“This is sudden,” she says.
“If it makes you happier, you’re a lot hotter than my biological sister.”
“Incest!” she cries out with a light laugh.
I laugh at her as Troy stalks out of the chem lab.
“You’re going to have to deal with him somehow,” she tells me, ducking out from under my arm.
“Maybe if the rest of the senior class can deal with it, he’ll come to terms with it.”
“It is kinda sudden, Chad. Really sudden. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“I just put labels on everything. Nothing else. You’re the best, Taylor.” I smile at her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I still have about five hours of being Ryan’s Rent-A-Jock.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Let’s see what his last requests are.”
She snorts and playfully slaps me on the shoulder. “Just don’t bring him down with you unless he’s willing.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a mock salute.
---
Ryan shows up at my house just after dinner. My parents still think I’m at his beck and call, so they let me leave with him.
The problem is that I haven’t spoken to him since lunch, and I’m willing to bet that Troy has.
We drive in silence into Petroglyph National Monument. We won’t be home for a while. I hope my parents aren’t expecting me… and I have time to do a quick review of my AP European History notes before the exam tomorrow. That’s kind of important.
“Taylor spoke to me this afternoon,” he says as he pulls off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
I nod but don’t look at him. I can already tell that he’s going to be really upset with me.
“Troy also… spoke to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. I don’t know what else to say.
“Taylor had more interesting things to say, anyway,” he says casually.
I smile a little. “So what do you think?”
He smiles at me lopsidedly. “I think you’re going to be the one to deal with my sister.”
I feel my smile widening to painful proportions, and I don’t care.
“But if you want me to put out, you’re going to have to be a lot more charming than you were with all those six-year-old girls. No Evans is easy, you know.”
“Taylor told you that part too, huh?”
He nods. “You will have to speak with Troy eventually.” And he just mentioned Troy and putting out in the same breath. I shiver uncomfortably.
“I know.”
“I want an orchid boutonniere with baby’s breath, and you have better be prompt. The limo won’t wait for you.”
I punch the air. “You’re awesome, man!”
“I expect you to pay for my ticket as well. You should be able to afford that, especially after I went through all the trouble of making them inexpensive. And you had better wear something respectable. Not that powder blue, pinstriped suit you picked up at Good Will.”
“But it was only ten bucks!” I protest.
“And I deserve a date who can invest more than ten dollars into his wardrobe. It’s not the sort of suit the prom queen would wear.” His lower lip twitches: a sure sign that he’s trying not to laugh.
“Queen?”
“That was the condition I gave Taylor.”
“You are such an asshole,” I tell him. I smack him lightly on the arm, but my hand stays there. It takes me a moment before I realize that I’m slowly dragging the tips of my fingers up and down Ryan’s arm.
He shivers noticeably, his mouth dropping open slightly with a soft sigh.
And God, I want to do all sorts of things to him. With him.
He looks me in the eyes, grabs my hand in his, and says, “Not here.” His eyes are darker than I remember them. And not here means somewhere else. I can handle somewhere else.
---
“You’d better know what you’re doing,” Taylor says as she greets me and Ryan at the front door to Lava Springs, where the Evans adults gave the East High SC a discount. Everything was set up outside just like it had been for the talent show the summer before.
I nod and thread an arm through Ryan’s. “Bring it.”
In the past two weeks, we have become very comfortable with each other, leading to tonight. Ryan has the master key to the staff break room. The one with all the comfy couches. And Troy has been increasing in hostility. It’s actually very annoying.
“You’re sitting with Troy at table twelve.”
“What’s a prom without some drama,” Ryan says sweetly.
“Speaking of which,” Taylor says, “king and queen announcements are at 10.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Just make up with Troy. It’s driving everyone crazy.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do it before you have to deal with Sharpay.”
“She already threatened bodily harm if I hurt Ryan. I think the rest of the night will be covered.”
Taylor raises her eyebrows skeptically.
“Right. So table twelve?”
“The one in the center, closest to the dance floor.”
“You’ll be joining us?” Ryan asks.
“Of course I will.”
Troy and Gabriella are already at the table.
“Hey guys!” I call.
Gabriella smiles at us and Troy scowls.
I try not to roll my eyes. “Hey, Troy. Can we talk someplace else? Just you and me.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then breezes passed me with a grunted “C’mon.”
I raise my eyebrows at Ryan, who nods and smiles sympathetically. I follow Troy. He leads me to the kitchens. How ironic.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I say, “but you hurt me, too.”
He stares at me blankly. “You didn’t hurt me,” he says eventually. “You…” He doesn’t continue.
“I what?”
“You were spending all your time with Evans. It gave me horrible flashbacks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you claiming PTSD from last summer?”
“I guess.”
“So you decided to make my life hell because of something Sharpay did?” I fight myself to keep from growling or raising my voice.
He has the decency to look ashamed. “I was right, though: he was trying to seduce you.”
“No, you were wrong: he waited for me to realize I actually felt something for him.”
Troy looks stricken. “Are you saying that - ”
“We’re here to do the same things you and Gabby are. Especially afterwards.”
“Ew! Too much information!”
“So you’re not homophobic?”
“No. Why would you think - Right. I just don’t trust the Evanses.”
“Well, I trust Ryan. And it’s going to be like this for a while. You can either be happy for us once you come to your senses - like I did with Gabby - or we can end our friendship over something so menial as my boyfriend.”
“You’re dating now?”
“Yup. Holding hands in public, going to the movies to neck, the works.”
It’s only slightly satisfying to see his face. It looks like he’s about to puke. “How serious are you?” he chokes out.
“Enough to come here together.”
“Oh.”
I look at him expectantly.
“Right. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t exactly sound sorry, but it’s a start.
I smile at him. “Good. Now I need to return to watch my date tear up the dance floor or he’ll never forgive me.”
Troy nods mutely.
---
“May I be the first to present your king and queen for the evening!” Taylor announces from the stage, pointing to the doorway where Ryan and I stand.
Ryan and I look at each other as we stand in the doorway. I collect Ryan’s hand in mine and nod.
“Our loyal subjects await,” I say with a grin. “Let’s shake things up.”
Ryan squeezes my hand and holds on as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and we make our entrance.
---
End.
Recipient: likespring
Title: Chad versus the Kissing Booth
Pairing(s): Chad/Ryan and Troy/Gabriella
Summary: For the record, Chad was against the whole thing from the beginning.
Rating: PG
Warning(s): This fic features asshole!Troy. I also think this is the tamest slash I have ever written.
Word Count: ~9,000 words
Disclaimer: All High School Musical characters herein are the property of Disney. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: The kissing booth idea belongs to sparrowlove. I apologize on the boys’ behalf for not writing any smut for this story, but it wouldn’t have fit without making the story awkward. Thanks to my glorious beta! Also, I do not condone the use of any conjugation of “to get” in place of any conjugation of “to be.”
This is Taylor’s idea. She had gone to Troy about it, and he had agreed straight out, the traitor. They both went to the administration and somehow convinced them it was a good idea. I had no say in anything whatsoever. I had sulked, but as I stand on the stage of the auditorium, blinded by the stage lights but still feel everyone’s eyes on me, I feel mildly intimidated.
“Here we have number eight, Chad Danforth!” Taylor announces into her microphone. “He’s handsome and has the best hair of anyone on the basketball team. He also has an impressive GPA, which may come in handy if you need extra help with homework or studying for APs, which - don’t forget, people - are right around the corner.”
Of course, Taylor would drop that reminder. Maybe the administration put her up to it when she proposed this crazy idea of a fundraiser to them.
“I’ll give you twenty bucks!” a girl shouts. I can’t see her through the stage lights, but I’m fairly certain it’s Jessie. I dated her when we were freshmen. She’s on the cheer squad now and still smoking hot. Too bad there’s nothing in her head. I broke up with her, because she couldn’t keep up in a class discussion. I haven’t decided if that was snobby or not. It wouldn’t be so bad to be at her beck and call for the next week, though.
“Twenty-five!” Again, I can’t see who’s speaking, but that voice is male. I think it’s Alex, who’s on the baseball team with me. He’s also dumb as bricks.
“Thirty!” Jessie counters.
“Thirty-five!” It’s a new bidder, still female, and not Jessie. It might be Courtney. We dated in middle school. I don’t remember if it was in seventh or eighth grade. She’s pretty and smart. She broke up with me.
“Forty!” Alex shouts.
“Forty-five!” Courtney bids.
“Fifty!” Jessie declares.
“Fifty a day for the entire week!” It’s a new male voice. And it’s followed by stunned silence. Unfortunately, only one guy would have that kind of money to spend. He also has no reason to bid to being with. Doesn’t he have maids or something? Sure he’s a friend and all, but does he have to rent me out?
“Any higher bidders?” Taylor asks, her voice betraying her shock. Unsurprisingly, no one speaks up. “Okay. Sold to Ryan Evans for $350.”
---
“It’s only a week, man,” Troy says. “There’s no need to be upset about it. Maybe he’ll use you as a shield against his sister or something.”
“I’m not upset about being rented out to Ryan. I’m upset that I’ve been rented out!” There are some things that Troy will never understand about me. First and foremost is that I don’t believe in everything he believes. Especially if he thinks it’s a good idea. Last summer for example.
“He’s not going to jump you or anything. Taylor made sure those rules were made clear.”
“Did you even hear what I said?”
“Yeah, you don’t like being a Rent-A-Jock, but it’s a great fundraiser for the Student Council. I think you made more than the rest of the team combined.”
I scowl at him. Once again, Troy Bolton misses the point. Gabriella had purchased him, so he has nothing to worry about. It doesn’t matter that there’s a whole ‘nother world out there. I love the guy dearly, man. It’s just sometimes I wish he weren’t so self-centered.
It’s too much like a slavery auction for my liking, and it will probably always leave a bad taste in my mouth. Only instead of seven years of indentured service, it’s seven days. Again, something Troy will never understand.
“What do you think he’s going to make you do?” Troy asks.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I’m not going to ask what Gabriella’s going to make you do.”
“She’s - ”
“I don’t want to know,” I interrupt hastily.
He smiles smugly.
And, thank God, here comes Taylor.
“Thank you so much, Chad!” she gushes. “You helped push the Student Council to over one thousand dollars! Prom tickets are going to be approximately twenty dollars each!” She gives me a bone-crushing hug.
“You’re welcome,” I wheeze.
“Oh, and remember that you have to meet with Ryan before your baseball game. Have your schedule ready so he knows when you’re free. If there are any problems, let me know, but I doubt there will be.”
“Yeah, thanks, Taylor.”
She smiles at me before bouncing off down the hallway. She and the SC win, and I lose. I want to find the nearest unyielding object and bang my head against it, but I don’t think Troy would appreciate it.
“I need to head to my locker before Open’s over. Go find your girlfriend and be disgustingly sweet or something.”
Troy beams.
I shake my head as I head to my locker where Ryan is waiting for me.
“Hey, man, way to be creepy.”
“I pushed the Student Council to over a thousand dollars. Your girlfriend is very happy with both you and me.”
“You know she’s not my girlfriend. Okay, so she kinda is, but she’s not.” It’s really complicated, and I don’t want to think about it now. Anyway, he should know all this already. “Why’d you do it?”
He shrugs.
“There has to be some reason, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it, and you wouldn’t be waiting for me here.”
He shrugs again. When he wants to be, he’s just as infuriating as his sister.
“Whatever. Meet me out on the diamond before the game. I’ll give you my schedule.”
He smiles. It’s that tiny smile that I’ve come to realize means I’m underestimating him but he’s too, well, shy to point it out. Well, at least I’ll have something to think about for the rest of the day. It’s not like I need to pay attention in class. Ha.
I shake my head and walk away.
Taylor is still smiling her pursed-lips smile that gives her dimples when she struts into our AP Lit class. I’ve never felt more like a piece of meat, and I used to think that being a piece of meat was a good thing, especially that time with Mary and Terri on the girls b-ball team in the girls’ locker room at West last year. But now I don’t like feeling like meat, mostly because meat never has a say in anything.
All I need to do is make it through the rest of the week, but I have a feeling that today is going to feel like a damn week.
Okay, so the Taylor thing. After the championship game last year, I was so hopped up on adrenaline that I would have jumped anything with breasts. Unfortunately for me at the time, Taylor’s not that kind of girl, no matter how smokin’ her body is. I admire that about her. That she’s not that kind of girl.
I think at the time - after I realized that Taylor wouldn’t let me try anything - I think I thought that if Troy could be in a serious relationship, so could I. Which was a stupid idea at the time. But I like Taylor. She’s an awesome girl. I just don’t think that she’s long term girlfriend material. Long term friend, totally, just not girlfriend.
We’ve been on exactly four and a half dates in the year and a handful of months we’ve been dating. Taylor probably knows the more precise amount of time.
Date One: After the championship game at the Bolton’s. She and I grabbed a plate of pizza and snuck out into the Bolton’s backyard. We talked about everything and ate pizza. I piled on the charm, and she proved immune.
Date Two: The movies with Troy and Gabriella. The movie was boring, and the girls talked to each other the entire time.
Date Three: The first “proper” date, even though I still don’t have a car. We went to dinner at some place that cost me a day’s pay. We talked. Afterwards, I kissed her on the cheek. That’s as far as she let me go. I put a hand on her thigh, but she slapped me away.
Date Three and a Half: We went to Cliff’s. I had a bad corn dog and ended up puking all over her new open-toed shoes. The only reason I realized they were open-toed was because I wiped the puke off them. She held my hair back while I puked some more - not on her shoes that time. She was really sweet about it, didn’t yell at me: she just cradled my head and held my hair away from my face with a soothing hand on my back. My mother did the same to me once when I had the stomach flu when I was 10.
Date Four: We went to a pool hall with Troy and Gabriella. It was teams: girls versus boys. The girls won, nattering on about the math of playing pool. They hugged each other excitedly, but they kinda ignored us.
Date number four was when I realized that I was treating Taylor like I treat my older sister. As disturbing and incestuous as it is, I’ve gone farther with my sister than with Taylor: my sister kisses me on the cheek whenever she comes home from college. Taylor hasn’t even kissed me yet. I’ve kinda backed off since then, and she apparently has no problem with that. We haven’t officially come out and made a public announcement about our kinda-sorta break-up, but we know, and right now that’s all that matters.
“Chad,” Taylor hisses at me.
“What?” I frown. I don’t think I’ve - okay, I totally did space out.
“You’re miles away. Class is over.”
“Sorry. I was remembering the time I puked all over your feet.”
She smiles wryly and smacks me lightly on the shoulder. “Good times. C’mon, lover boy, it’s time for lunch.”
---
I’m late out to the field and pulling up my red socks when Ryan enters the locker room. He must have wandered in after seeing that I hadn’t made it out to the diamond yet.
“Hey, I wrote down my schedule.” I riffle through my backpack until I find the paper I’m looking for and hand it to him.
“Uh, thanks.”
I give him a quick smile as I slip on my cleats. “You gonna stay and watch the game?”
“No. I need to do some things before I have you on a leash.”
“Hey, now. Nothing kinky.” I wink at him, and he flounders for what to say. “I’ll see you later. You have my cell number. Just make sure it’s not around midnight or something. I need my beauty sleep too.”
He turns a little pink around the edges.
“I’ll see you later, Evans.” I clap him on the shoulder, grab my mitt, and head out to the diamond.
---
Ryan’s waiting for me in the locker room when the game ends. I’m covered from head to toe in mud and lime and possibly a grass stain or two, and all I want is a shower. East won in the bottom of the tenth. 10 to 11. Thank God, because I couldn’t have gone two extra innings. The one was bad enough.
Alex wolf whistles at us. I flip him off, and he laughs. Josh shoves at his shoulder, and they head off to their own lockers.
Josh congratulates me on the game on his way out.
“Where’s my congrats?” Alex demands.
Josh laughs out, “Right here, man.” And slaps Alex on the ass.
Alex yelps and punches Josh before they’re out of sight around the lockers.
Ryan ignores them as he raises an eyebrow and plucks a blade of grass from my hair. “Looks like I missed an interesting game.” His tone is wry enough to remind me of Taylor when she’s trying to humor me.
“Yeah, man. You should have seen it. Alex hit a triple in the bottom of the tenth, then I batted him home.”
“That doesn’t explain the grass.”
“No, that had to do with the top of the fifth. North High had set up for a grand slam, but it was a fly to left. The sun was in my eyes, so I miscalculated the distance and had to dive for it. But I caught it!”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks, dude. So what’s up?” I pour my school clothes out of my locker and into my bag. I’m going to change at home - after I shower.
“I was hoping that you could join me for - tonight.”
“Like right now?”
“I was hoping so, yes.”
Matt sneaks up on me and slaps my shoulder with a muttered, “Good game.” He then hurries out of the locker room before I can respond. I think that’s the most he’s ever said to me.
“Um… can I stop off at home to shower first? I kinda reek, and I have stains in my clothing I can’t identify.”
Ryan wrinkles his nose in distaste. When I was younger, I had a dog that made a face like that one time when he stuck his face into a jar of horseradish. “I suppose I could let you freshen up.”
“I’ll make sure to slip into something more comfortable while I’m at it.” I roll my eyes at him. “Anyway, one of the boys is giving me a lift. I’ll be at your house in an hour, okay?”
“An hour’s fine, but you don’t have a car.”
“I know. I can borrow my Dad’s.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“Okay. Uh, am I going to need to bring my books and stuff?”
“Um… sure.” Odd. He doesn’t want me for the brain thing, otherwise he would have said straight out for me to bring my books.
I force a smile and head out.
---
My parents took this week long commitment better than I did. They think that it will be a good opportunity for when I’m out in the real world. I told them that I had a job last summer, but they say it’s different, like practice for having a job (school) and a wife (Ryan) to balance… Um. I’m not going to think about Ryan as a wife ever again. So, of course, the first thing that pops into my head is Ryan in drag. He looks disturbingly like his sister.
I’m going to feel unclean for weeks; although, I feel better after a shower - but only marginally.
The doorbell rings, and I race to be there before my parents can cause any damage to my soul.
I make it, and I’m almost out the door with Ryan and my bag before my father - my father - says, “Have fun with your wife.”
I want to die. Or have the ground swallow me up. Or have the four horsemen race down my street. I’d even settle for Michael Crawford.
“Bye!” I grit out to my parents and push Ryan outside.
“What was - ” Ryan starts to ask.
“Parents are never allowed to use metaphors,” I say hastily.
He gives me a confused look.
“They compared this whole Rent-A-Jock thing to “the real world” - if you can believe it. School is my job, and you’re my, uh, my wife.”
Ryan laughs lightly. “Can I call you ‘pookie’ then?”
“Oh, God, please don’t!”
“I can’t call you ‘pookie,’ but you can call me ‘God’?”
“Dude, not cool.”
“You could do worse. I mean, you could be married to my sister,” he says in that understated way of his.
“I’m going to need bleach for my brain.” I’m not going to mention Ryan in drag, because - that’s totally wrong on so many levels.
“I could put on a wig and a dress if that helps,” he adds thoughtfully.
I’m embarrassed by the choking sound I make.
“I’m joking. C’mon. Get in the car so we can do this.”
I do as he says, and we’re half way to his house before I ask, “What exactly are we doing?”
“We’re helping out my Mom.”
“Really, though, why did you put up 350 bucks for me?”
“My mother is running a charity carnival. I want you to help out.”
“Why couldn’t you just ask me to do it? Why pay for it?”
“It looks good on taxes.”
“I’m a tax write-off?!”
“I suppose.”
“That is not cool!”
“I had to make sure that you weren’t busy at that time.”
“So ask me. I gave you a schedule to work around. I could have done the carnival and been someone else’s Rent-A-Jock.” He needs to stop being Troy. It’s kinda scary, actually. They’re both so damn selfish. I guess it makes some sort of perverse sense that an Evans would be selfish.
“I wanted you to be my Rent-A-Jock.” He smiles at me coyly.
I release a frustrated sigh. “Next time, just ask, okay? I mean, what would you have done if I had a family thing this weekend in - I don’t know - visiting my sister in Santa Fe?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Whatever. Just ask. Don’t take. God, I feel like a piece of meat - or a whore. I hate Taylor for this.”
“Don’t hate your girlfriend,” he admonishes softly.
“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my friend who happens to be a girl.”
“I’m sorry. Did she dump you?”
“It was a mutual thing. Don’t be sorry. So what do you want me to do at the carnival?” I really don’t want to talk about Taylor.
“We had someone back out at the last minute. He - he was going to man the kissing booth.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“I don’t know whether to be horrified or impressed.”
“Impressed?”
“Of the lengths you’d go for your mother.”
“Oh. Yeah. I would.”
I sigh. This was not what I had expected when he bid on me. I did expect some ulterior motive, though.
“I’ll have to think about it. I’d love to help out, but… why did the other person back out?”
“I threatened his masculinity.”
“With a dull spoon or by being you?”
“He thought I was going to pay for him to kiss me.”
“Were you?”
“He wasn’t my type.” He smirks at me.
“Oh? You have a type now? You didn’t earlier this year,” I tease.
“Yeah. I have a type.”
“That means that you have a crush.”
“No, that means that I have a type.”
“So what’s your type?”
“Tall, dark, and handsome.”
“You and every woman ever.” I roll my eyes at him. “Should he also be mysterious and have a good sense of humor as well?”
“Stop it. I’m already a walking cliché. Don’t make it worse.”
“I can make it worse?”
He playfully smacks my shoulder… much like what Taylor had done earlier.
“It’s the hats. You see, if they were straight…”
He smacks me again.
“Seriously, though: ‘tall, dark, and handsome’? That’s Zeke. You and your sister aren’t - you don’t share… or at the same time… do you?”
“We’re Evans. We don’t share. Even if Shar weren’t my sister, she’s still female, both of which are gross by the way. Eww! How could you even think that?”
I shrug. “I had to ask.”
“Why?”
“You’re really close.”
“She’s my friend. Aren’t you friends with your sister?”
“Yeah. And I’ve gone farther with her than with Taylor.”
“What?! No, you haven’t!”
“I totally have. My sister kisses me on the cheek whenever she sees me.”
“Taylor didn’t - ”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I interrupt. I really don’t want to talk about it. Everyone makes such a big deal about how Taylor didn’t put out. Like virginity is some horrible burden that needs to be released. Just because I don’t want mine doesn’t mean I should think less of those who want theirs.
“It was Javier,” he says quietly.
“So your type is European as well?”
“That’s not one of the qualities I look for, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“It’s the accent, isn’t it?”
“Javier doesn’t have an accent.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Stop it, you.”
“How long do I have to think about it?”
“You have three minutes.”
“I have until I walk into your house,” I say in a deadpan.
“Yes.”
“Great.” I sigh. “I’ll do it.”
There’s a moment of stunned, awkward silence before he grins brightly. “Thank you!”
---
“Mom!” Ryan says proudly as he whips off his hat. “Chad has offered to take Tyler’s place in your carnival.”
Offered, my ass.
I steal his hat and place it on my own head. It has difficulty with my curls, and it ends up about an inch from my head.
“That’s wonderful, Ducky!” Mrs. Evans gushes. “Thank you, Chad.”
“It’s no problem, ma’am.”
“Would you boys like some cookies?”
“No, thanks, Mom.” Ryan smiles sweetly. “We’re going to hang out in my room for a while.”
I frown at him. “I’ll take one anyway, Mrs. Evans.” I grab a cookie and follow Ryan to his room.
We settle into his room, and he steals his hat back. There’s an awkward silence. I assume the real reason he wanted me over was to talk about the carnival. I assume he expected it would take him the rest of the night to convince me, so now he seems at a loss for what to do. Ryan is socially awkward to begin with. Taylor called it socially retarded, which is a symptom of what her sister calls “boy disease.” Her sister and my sister are friends, and in high school, they devised some boy rules together. My sister drilled into me that I should never break those rules, but I’m still “socially retarded” according to Taylor. Anyway, Ryan is more awkward than retarded, meaning it’s up to me to make things less awkward.
“Tell me more about the carnival. Like, what’s it for?”
“It’s for leukemia awareness and research. One of my Mom’s friends is being treated, so it’s to help her pay and raise funds.”
“And your Mom’s planning all this by herself?”
“No, a bunch of other people are helping her, but she’s the head of the committee.”
“Good for her.”
“Yeah. It’s being held at Lava Springs, so they save money, because they don’t need to rent a place. There’s going to be fair food and games and stuff.”
“And booths,” I add wryly.
“I’m sure you’ll be a hit.”
“Are you doing anything at the carnival?”
“I’m going to be working the dunk tank.”
“Really?! So I’d be able to dunk you?”
“Only if I’d be able to kiss you,” he says casually.
I try not to visibly flinch. It’s not that I wouldn’t mind kissing him… it’s just, he’s my friend. It would be like kissing Taylor… only gayer. I can’t really explain it. It’s awkward, I know that.
“We’ll see how tired my lips are by the end of the day. Speaking of which, how long is this thing?”
“It’s six hours long: from 11 until 5.”
“That’s not bad.”
“No, and it’s for a good cause.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“No.”
We lapse into silence. I break it. “Was there another reason you needed me to be here?”
“Yeah. I need someone to run lines with.”
“Lines?”
“I’m in a summer production of “Once Upon a Mattress.””
I’ve never heard of that play. “What’s it about?”
“It’s a musical parody of “The Princess and the Pea.””
“Okay,” I nod. “Why aren’t you running lines with your sister? Wouldn’t she be better at that stuff than me?”
“She, uh, she’s upset with me, because I have a role and she doesn’t.”
“She doesn’t and you do? Are you that awesome?”
“You’ve never seen me perform, have you?”
I shake my head. I never put much thought into attending one of his shows. I played in my games, and he played in his plays. That’s the way it was. He wasn’t in that play with Troy, and that was the only school play I’ve ever been to.
He smirks. “I’m that awesome.”
---
Hanging out with Ryan isn’t that bad. I mean, things could totally be worse. We go over lines and do homework, and it’s nice, and Troy hates it by Friday. I reminded him that the whole Rent-A-Jock thing was okayed by him, and that didn’t go over too well. So now we’re not on speaking terms, and I really wish he would take his head out of his ass. He’s spending all his time with Gabriella, like always, so that means that, even though I’m otherwise occupied, I should still hang out with him. He acted like this when I started dating Taylor.
While we’re not on speaking terms, we are on shouting terms.
“Can I just say, once again, that this is your idea,” I snarl. Thank God it’s finally Friday. I don’t think I could deal with this for much longer.
“You were supposed to - ” Troy growls back.
“Supposed to what!” I shout.
“Chad,” Taylor says firmly, stepping between me and Troy. “Let’s go.”
“Not until this fucker takes his head out of his ass and takes responsibility for his own goddamned actions!”
Taylor places a hand on my chest. “I said: let’s go.”
I look down at her hand splayed across my chest. It’s so tiny, contrasting against the bright yellow of my shirt.
“Fine,” I mutter. “He’s not worth it anyway.”
She leads me away from Troy, down the hall to the chem room.
“What was that about?” Taylor demands with her hands on her hips.
“I told him about what I’m doing this weekend, and he lost it.”
“Lost it how?”
“Just started freaking out about how I was spending all of my time with Ryan. Well, duh. I’m his Rent-A-Jock. Troy agreed to this whole thing. Why is he so damn - I really wish he would pull his head out of his ass.”
“What are you doing this weekend?” she asks gently.
“Ryan’s Mom is doing a charity carnival thing, and I’m running a booth.”
“Really now?” Her tone is incredulous, not inquisitive.
“Yeah.”
“And what, specifically, will you be doing?” Someday she is going to make a good lawyer.
“The kissing booth,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re going to help them raise a lot of money,” she says. Her smile is sad. Not her too. And how would she know if I’m a good kisser?
“What’s wrong?” I ask in trepidation.
She doesn’t look at me, just goes still.
“We never did that,” she says quietly.
“I know.” I nod, still not understanding the connection. She never let me. I wanted to.
“We… our relationship isn’t working.”
“What’s wrong with our relationship?” I frown. “We’re friends.”
“Right.”
“Anything else kinda ended when I threw up all over your feet.”
“That wasn’t exactly your most shining moment,” she says wryly, smiling slightly.
I smile back.
“I guess I just haven’t admitted it to myself yet.”
I scoop her into a hug.
“I’m going to come to the fair,” she says resolutely into my shoulder.
“It’s for a good cause: leukemia. But you know that you never had to pay me money for a kiss.”
She halfheartedly shoves at my shoulder as my phone goes off. I set a new ringtone for Ryan: “Works Hard for the Money.” I found it amusing. Apparently, Taylor does too, because she giggle-snorts into my shoulder.
She detaches herself from me as I answer. “What’s up?”
“Your friend is in a snit,” Ryan says dryly.
“It’s best to stay away from him.” I match his tone.
“He found me.”
“Tell him Gabriella’s looking for him.”
“She’s right next to me.”
“Oh. Then I got nothing.”
“That isn’t what I paid for,” he teases.
“Hey now! Troy was not part of the bargain.”
“Help me anyway.”
I sigh. “Where are you?”
“The theater.”
“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” I tell him reluctantly and hang up.
“What was that about?” Taylor asks.
“I need to go play knight in shining armor. Care to join me?”
“Sure. Someone needs to keep you from killing Troy.”
---
“Troy, what the hell?” I demand.
He’s in the middle of a rant about who the hell knows what. Gabriella looks upset. Ryan looks bored.
Troy’s mouth snaps shut.
“What is going on, man? You’re acting really weird and upsetting a lot of people.”
“This - He - ” Troy pointed at Ryan and sputtered.
“C’mon, Ry,” Gabriella says, leading Ryan out of the auditorium.
Taylor joins them, leaving me with Troy, which may not be the best idea ever.
“Seriously, man, what’s going on?”
“He keeps flirting with Gabby and - ”
“Gabby’s not his type. Why would you - ”
“You’re his type,” he grinds out.
“So’s Zeke,” I bite back.
“And both of you are my friends - ”
“What do you have against Ryan?”
“I don’t have - ”
“Troy,” I growl.
“He’s just like his sister, Chad. He thinks he’s better than - ”
“No, he doesn’t, Troy. He’s a nice guy.”
“His sister - ”
“He’s not his sister. You don’t know him like I - ”
“Are you dating him?” he blurts out.
It makes a moment for my mind to catch up with what he’s implying. “What?! I’m his Rent-A-Jock, asshole. Why would you say that?”
“You’re working at that carnival with him - ”
“I am secure enough in my masculinity that I don’t have to worry about being seen with the guy.”
“He’s trying to seduce you like his sister tried to seduce me.”
“No, he’s not. And if he were, I can handle myself. We’re friends. Is that what bothers you? That you have to share me now?”
“No. I just want - I don’t know.”
“Then leave us alone. You agreed to this Rent-A-Jock thing. Don’t you dare blame me.”
“It’s not healthy to spend all your time with him,” he mumbles.
“I’m not. I was just with Taylor. So next time you think something’s a good idea in your head, don’t attack people - especially your friends.” Okay, so that makes no sense, but I’m too angry to care.
“Yeah man, whatever.”
I glare at him and head out.
---
Ryan, Taylor, and Gabriella are sitting on the front steps of the school. Gabriella’s mouth is running faster than the words are falling out. She sees me, and the words stop.
Okay.
“Chad, I’m so sorry about Troy. This is all my fault.” Gabriella sounds close to tears.
I bite back my reflex to say that it’s not her fault, that she shouldn’t blame herself. “Why do you think this is your fault?”
“I - ” She cuts herself off. “I’m so sorry!” she repeats.
“About what?”
“Troy’s been such a jerk this past week. I’m temped to ask Taylor for a refund.”
“Why has he been acting like that?” I ask cautiously. I have a good idea why, and I don’t like it.
“He’s - His parents are very open-minded, but he…”
“He’s homophobic?” I gape at her. The Troy I know gave everybody a chance. Everybody. Even Hannah Smith, who had headgear every year of middle school.
Gabriella looks down at her hands and nods.
I sigh. “That explains a lot.”
“I’m really sorry, Chad,” she says.
“Yeah, well, you should also be apologizing to Ryan, too,” I mutter and stalk off. I don’t have the mental stamina to deal with Troy’s shortcomings.
---
Ryan picks me up Saturday morning at 10 to head over to Lava Springs at my request. Okay, so I admit, most of it is because his car is one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen: Mustang GT Convertible - rubber ducky yellow. Apparently, that’s a theme with him. I ultimately decided not to ask… after he attempted to glare a hole in my head and threatened to hire someone to eliminate all future generations of Danforths just for laughing. And not give me rides.
We don’t talk in the car, but he has no problem ordering me around once we get there. My booth is directly across the way from his booth, so I’m able to see him whenever he’s dunked. Which makes me laugh every time it happens, which is oh too infrequently. He makes an interesting, surprised face when he realizes that there’s nothing keeping him above the water. Sharpay looks equally as happy whenever he is dunked. She’s the one handing out the balls to throw at the target on the booth.
I, however, have a line of so many six-year-old girls that I have no idea what to do with them, other than what they’ve paid for. I’ve had them all as customers before - over the past three hours. Now, though, there is someone in line who is over three and a half feet tall. It’s throwing me off.
It’s Taylor. I smile at her. She said that she was going to be here, and here she is.
“Now I understand why Troy didn’t want you to come,” she teases me. “You have more female admirers than him.”
I wink at her. “Do you wish to pay for my services as well?”
“I thought you said I never had to pay.” She smiles at me coyly. More coltishly than seductively. She slips a fiver across the booth. “But it’s for a good cause.”
“Alright.” I shrug. “My lips are a bit sore. I’ve been going nonstop for the past few hours.”
“It’s not the quality I’m looking for.” She smiles so her dimples show, and then she looks down. “Yes, honey?”
“If you’re not going to kiss him, it’s my turn,” a girl says petulantly.
“Oh, I’m gonna kiss him, honey.” She leans across the booth and kisses me on the lips. It’s just a connection on lips like every other person I’ve kissed in the past few hours. I was expecting something more… I don’t know, connective. Like a spark or something. Fireworks? No, that’s too clichéd.
But there was nothing.
She kisses me again, and there’s still nothing there. She pulls away and looks at me sadly. “At least you’re making them happy.”
I frown. She looks like she’s about to cry. I can’t deal with that now - I need to do this thing for Ryan’s mother.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” she says.
I nod, and she heads over to the dunk tank line.
The girl who had hassled Taylor is a repeat customer. This time she has twenty dollars. Where do these kids get money like this? My parents gave me an allowance of five bucks a week until I was thirteen. Then nothing. Until I decided to get a job. Or begged my sister. I must owe her over a thousand dollars.
I sigh and kiss her again. I do feel unclean. This is dangerously close to pedophilia. At least I don’t take perverse pleasure in kissing the kids, but I do take pleasure in helping out.
---
Ryan races up to me as soon as the fair is officially over. His hair is dripping wet, his designer clothes are sticking to his body in random places, and I’ve never seen him look happier.
“I knew you’d be a hit!”
“Just part of the Danforth charm.”
“How much did you make?”
“Close to three g’s.” I smile back at him.
“Mom will be so happy with this!”
He bounds off to where his mother is talking to someone official-looking.
---
“I wasn’t able to dunk you, man,” I complain as he drives me to school on Monday morning.
“And I wasn’t able to kiss you,” he counters.
“Fair enough. You wouldn’t get your money’s worth, though. I think my lips are still numb. Those six-year-old girls wouldn’t let up.”
He mutters something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Oh crap. Please tell me that Troy was not right. “Ryan. I’ve got a question for you.”
He frowns. “Okay,” he says apprehensively.
“Have we - were we just flirting?”
He smiles softly.
“I mean… I really don’t want to admit that maybe Troy may have had a point, but I just thought that since Taylor pointed out that - I’m gonna shut up now.”
“Yes, Chad. We were. I thought you knew.”
“How could I know that?”
“Because I’m really flaming?”
“No, I mean I thought I was just teasing. I never thought that - ” I take a deep breath. “Does that mean that Troy was right?”
“No,” Ryan says tersely. “Troy will never be right. He believes that I would result to subterfuge. Plus, you’re not my type.”
“Ryan… Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome? I’m exactly your type.”
“Fine,” he mumbles. “You’re exactly my type.”
“Wow. Okay. Uh…” This is going to take some time to process. I bang my head back against the headrest of the car seat.
“Are you freaking out?”
“About you crushing or about Troy being kinda right?”
“Troy isn’t right,” he tells me. “He has a very narrow view of what is going on. The rest is based on assumptions.”
“Let me think about it,” I say. I feel completely blindsided by this. I also feel like I should give my sister a call.
Ryan smiles at me sadly.
---
“ - And we have the nominations in for senior prom king and queen! Your top four nominations for queen are Sharpay Evans, Jessie Lee, Gabriella Montez, and Lexi Woods. Congratulations, ladies. May the best girl win.
“Now for our gentlemen. The nominations for king are Troy Bolton, Chad Danforth, Ryan Evans, and Mark Weston. Congratulations, boys.
“Please vote during lunches. The SC will have a booth set up directly outside the cafeteria with ballots, and they will also be selling tickets. With all of the fundraisers this year, tickets will be twenty dollars each.”
Troy glares at me across the isle in homeroom. As if I had anything to do with my nomination. It’s an honor, I suppose. It’s just… I have more important things to worry about.
Zeke nudges my shoulder. “Congrats, man.” He says this to Ryan and Troy as well.
Two weeks and this stupid prom thing will be over… I kinda need a date, too. It wouldn’t do for the prom king not to have a prom queen date. That leaves me with Jessie, Lexi… or Ryan. He’s as much of a queen as those girls. That would shake things up. And probably lead him on, which would be cruel. And piss off Troy.
---
“Sis, we need to talk.” I managed to sneak away from prom date propositions and Troy during Open. No one is ever in practice room three then. Ryan laid his claim on it a while back, and I know for a fact that he’s making up a test he missed. I helped him study for it.
“Chad? What’s wrong? Shouldn’t you be in school?” She sounds concerned.
“I am in school. I have Open now.”
“Well, I have work now.” I hate it when she uses that haughty tone.
“Don’t hang up! I need your help!”
“You have thirty seconds to convince me this is worth risking my job,” she says flatly.
“I have a question about your rules for the boy disease thing.”
“Did you forget something and Taylor wants you to apologize? You should apologize.” And there’s that haughty tone again.
“What? No. It’s… uh. Taylor and I are just friends now. Remember the vomit incident? My question is about guys.”
“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” she asks skeptically.
“What do you think I’m asking you?” I challenge.
“Okay, this is worth risking my job. Tell me everything.”
“I just realized that I’ve been flirting with this guy for the past year. And now I can’t stop thinking about him. About - I don’t know. And Troy’s acting like a dick about it. And the three of us have been nominated for prom king. And - ”
“Chad, slow down. Congratulations on your nomination. Now, I need for you to focus for me and answer my questions honestly.”
“’Kay.”
“Do I know this boy?” she asks seriously.
“Yes. Uh, Ryan.”
“Ryan’s been nominated for prom king?”
“Why are you surprised about that?”
“I’m not. But from what you’ve told me, he doesn’t take competition lightly.”
“No,” I agree, “but his sister’s worse.”
“Is he dating anyone?” She’s grilling me now.
“No.”
“Are you dating anyone?”
“No.”
“And prom dates?”
“No and no,” I list off unenthusiastically.
“Does he know that you just realized that you were flirting with him?”
“Yes. Uh. When he gave me a ride this morning.” That sounds dirty. “To school, not, uh. Right. ”
“And your response?”
“I, uh, told him I’d think about it,” I explain sheepishly.
“What have you been thinking about specifically?” she asks carefully.
“About Troy being a homophobic asshat. About - ”
“Are you sure he’s homophobic and not just hurt?” And this is what happens when your sister majors in psychology.
“What do you mean?”
“Why is he acting the way he is?”
“He doesn’t like Ryan ‘cause of his sister. She tried to seduce him last summer.”
“I remember. You called to complain to me every night.”
“Heh,” I say sheepishly. My sister has a way of doing that to me.
“So you need to talk to him about this. Just don’t hit him. It wouldn’t do to be expelled right before prom. So what else have you been thinking about?”
“He’s a good guy. All the girls call him sweet. I’m exactly his type. And Dad once called him my wife.”
“Dad did what?!” Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned that.
“It’s a long story involving an extended metaphor,” I attempt to explain. Awkwardly.
“Uh-huh,” she says incredulously. “How do you feel about him? Is he your type?”
“I think he’s a good guy. I really value our crazy-weird friendship. He’s - he’s refreshing. I don’t think I have a type yet, though. I really like him. I just didn’t think it was like that.”
“Is it “like that”?” I’ve never thought about it like that either.
I take a deep breath. “I think so, yeah.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
“I don’t know. Society?”
“Since when have you cared what other people think of you?”
“I’ve always cared what people think of me.”
“Why? You do your own thing anyway.”
“Right, but - ”
She cuts me off firmly. “Isn’t that the same as not caring what people think?”
“I kinda hate you,” I say sourly.
“You called me if you recall. For help. I’m helping.” She’s using that haughty tone again.
“You’re not telling me things I want to hear,” I mutter.
“Don’t grumble at me. If you wanted to hear what you wanted to hear, you wouldn’t have called me.”
“What should I do?” I ask helplessly.
“Talk to Ryan, and talk to Troy. Separately.”
“And tell them what?”
“Tell Ryan that you have a big, gay crush on him, and tell Troy that you’re the same person you were a week ago, and the only thing that has changed is that you finally put a label to yourself.” There is no way that it’s really that simple.
“Do you think that will work?”
“Call me if it doesn’t. Rather, text “emergency” to me, and I’ll call you.”
“How do I start those conversations?”
“I’m sure you can think of a way. I need to get back to work.” She says that with an air of finality that better not mean she’s about to leave me hanging.
“Like what - Hey! Don’t you hang up on me! …Damn it.”
---
“Be my prom date,” I blurt out.
Taylor stares at me. Gabriella stares at me. Zeke stares at me. Troy misses his mouth by an inch and accidently stabs himself in the cheek with his fork. Sharpay looks as if she’s going to murder me.
Ryan doesn’t do any of those things. He shoves a fry into his mouth and says, “Sure” without looking up. His lips twitch slightly in amusement. Well, I did find an interesting way of letting him know I was done freaking out.
“Good.” I nod and go back to eating my lunch.
---
“What were you thinking?” Taylor demands, jabbing her forefinger into my chest. “Does this have to do with Troy?”
“No, this has to do with society. A prom king should go to the prom with the queen, right? And Ryan’s more queen material than any of the girls nominated.”
“Chad, what - ”
“Prom’s kinda stupid in the scheme of things. It’s a social - ”
“Since when have you cared about deliberately falling outside social norms?” She folds her arms across her chest. “If I recall, just last year you and Troy -”
“Taylor, I spoke with my sister about everything, and she said I should go for it.”
“Everything?” She raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“Uh. I finally realized that Ryan and I were always flirting with each other,” I tell her with a shrug.
“And that’s what led to this?”
“No, mostly it’s about rubbing things in Troy’s face and breaking convention.”
“What about Ryan’s feelings?”
“What about them?”
“Are you going to hurt him?”
“No!” I would never do that to a friend.
“And when you’re done with your publicity stunt? How do you think that’ll make him feel?”
“I was, uh, planning on certain after-prom activities,” I mumble. I had been doing a lot of thinking about this, and I’m positive that is what I want with Ryan. He’s - he’s everything I tried to find in Taylor. Without the breasts. I can live without the breasts. And my god, Ryan’s ass is so…
She blinks at me rapidly. “…What? You want to - Wow, Chad. This is really unexpected.”
“Really? I don’t think it is. I think I just put a label on everything, that’s all.”
“No, I don’t mean you and Ryan. I meant you and Ryan.”
“I have no idea what that means. The gay thing or the Ryan thing?”
“Not the Ryan thing,” she says with a shake of her head. “The openness and… out-ness that you’d be shoving down everyone’s throats.”
I shrug. “They can deal.”
“I’m worried about you, honey.”
I take a deep breath. “Taylor, I’ve always been this brash. It’s kinda my thing.”
“But this time you’re taking Ryan along for the ride,” she points out.
“He’s already out.”
She gives me an unimpressed look.
I rake a hand through my curls. “Can you help me out, Tay?”
“With what?” she asks stonily. “I’m not going to help you dig yourself into your own grave - or hurt Ryan.”
“You’re going to be tallying the prom nominations, right?”
She nods and narrows her eyes.
“Can you rig it for me and Ryan to win king and queen?”
She stares at me intently for a long moment. She sucks her lips between her teeth, creating dimples. She then takes a deep breath and says, “I would need to run it by Ryan first. But if he agrees, you have to agree right now that you’re going to deal with Sharpay when she realizes that she lost the position of prom queen to her brother.”
“Deal!” I say quickly, before she can change her mind. I’ll figure out how to deal with Sharpay when the time comes. “Or you could make me the queen and Ryan the king… You’re the best, Taylor!”
I give her a quick kiss on the cheek as Troy bursts into the chem lab… apparently looking for me.
“So it was a stunt,” he growls. “You pretend to be gay in front of the entire basketball team, then come in here to mack on your girlfriend.”
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes. “Yes, Troy,” I say in a deadpan. “I also do the same with my sister, so if you’re going to dole out the insults, you might as well include incestuous.”
“Look, I’m sorry, man, but you can’t just break away from the status quo by - ”
“Dating the nerdy new girl?” I snap back. “We’ve been through this before, Troy, except it was the other way around. It’s no different.”
“Are you saying that you were serious?”
I nod. “And that I love Taylor like my sister.”
Taylor raises a wry eyebrow at me.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her towards me.
“This is sudden,” she says.
“If it makes you happier, you’re a lot hotter than my biological sister.”
“Incest!” she cries out with a light laugh.
I laugh at her as Troy stalks out of the chem lab.
“You’re going to have to deal with him somehow,” she tells me, ducking out from under my arm.
“Maybe if the rest of the senior class can deal with it, he’ll come to terms with it.”
“It is kinda sudden, Chad. Really sudden. But I’ll see what I can do.”
“I just put labels on everything. Nothing else. You’re the best, Taylor.” I smile at her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I still have about five hours of being Ryan’s Rent-A-Jock.” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Let’s see what his last requests are.”
She snorts and playfully slaps me on the shoulder. “Just don’t bring him down with you unless he’s willing.”
“Yes, ma’am.” I give her a mock salute.
---
Ryan shows up at my house just after dinner. My parents still think I’m at his beck and call, so they let me leave with him.
The problem is that I haven’t spoken to him since lunch, and I’m willing to bet that Troy has.
We drive in silence into Petroglyph National Monument. We won’t be home for a while. I hope my parents aren’t expecting me… and I have time to do a quick review of my AP European History notes before the exam tomorrow. That’s kind of important.
“Taylor spoke to me this afternoon,” he says as he pulls off to the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
I nod but don’t look at him. I can already tell that he’s going to be really upset with me.
“Troy also… spoke to me.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. I don’t know what else to say.
“Taylor had more interesting things to say, anyway,” he says casually.
I smile a little. “So what do you think?”
He smiles at me lopsidedly. “I think you’re going to be the one to deal with my sister.”
I feel my smile widening to painful proportions, and I don’t care.
“But if you want me to put out, you’re going to have to be a lot more charming than you were with all those six-year-old girls. No Evans is easy, you know.”
“Taylor told you that part too, huh?”
He nods. “You will have to speak with Troy eventually.” And he just mentioned Troy and putting out in the same breath. I shiver uncomfortably.
“I know.”
“I want an orchid boutonniere with baby’s breath, and you have better be prompt. The limo won’t wait for you.”
I punch the air. “You’re awesome, man!”
“I expect you to pay for my ticket as well. You should be able to afford that, especially after I went through all the trouble of making them inexpensive. And you had better wear something respectable. Not that powder blue, pinstriped suit you picked up at Good Will.”
“But it was only ten bucks!” I protest.
“And I deserve a date who can invest more than ten dollars into his wardrobe. It’s not the sort of suit the prom queen would wear.” His lower lip twitches: a sure sign that he’s trying not to laugh.
“Queen?”
“That was the condition I gave Taylor.”
“You are such an asshole,” I tell him. I smack him lightly on the arm, but my hand stays there. It takes me a moment before I realize that I’m slowly dragging the tips of my fingers up and down Ryan’s arm.
He shivers noticeably, his mouth dropping open slightly with a soft sigh.
And God, I want to do all sorts of things to him. With him.
He looks me in the eyes, grabs my hand in his, and says, “Not here.” His eyes are darker than I remember them. And not here means somewhere else. I can handle somewhere else.
---
“You’d better know what you’re doing,” Taylor says as she greets me and Ryan at the front door to Lava Springs, where the Evans adults gave the East High SC a discount. Everything was set up outside just like it had been for the talent show the summer before.
I nod and thread an arm through Ryan’s. “Bring it.”
In the past two weeks, we have become very comfortable with each other, leading to tonight. Ryan has the master key to the staff break room. The one with all the comfy couches. And Troy has been increasing in hostility. It’s actually very annoying.
“You’re sitting with Troy at table twelve.”
“What’s a prom without some drama,” Ryan says sweetly.
“Speaking of which,” Taylor says, “king and queen announcements are at 10.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Just make up with Troy. It’s driving everyone crazy.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do it before you have to deal with Sharpay.”
“She already threatened bodily harm if I hurt Ryan. I think the rest of the night will be covered.”
Taylor raises her eyebrows skeptically.
“Right. So table twelve?”
“The one in the center, closest to the dance floor.”
“You’ll be joining us?” Ryan asks.
“Of course I will.”
Troy and Gabriella are already at the table.
“Hey guys!” I call.
Gabriella smiles at us and Troy scowls.
I try not to roll my eyes. “Hey, Troy. Can we talk someplace else? Just you and me.”
He narrows his eyes at me, then breezes passed me with a grunted “C’mon.”
I raise my eyebrows at Ryan, who nods and smiles sympathetically. I follow Troy. He leads me to the kitchens. How ironic.
“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” I say, “but you hurt me, too.”
He stares at me blankly. “You didn’t hurt me,” he says eventually. “You…” He doesn’t continue.
“I what?”
“You were spending all your time with Evans. It gave me horrible flashbacks.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Are you claiming PTSD from last summer?”
“I guess.”
“So you decided to make my life hell because of something Sharpay did?” I fight myself to keep from growling or raising my voice.
He has the decency to look ashamed. “I was right, though: he was trying to seduce you.”
“No, you were wrong: he waited for me to realize I actually felt something for him.”
Troy looks stricken. “Are you saying that - ”
“We’re here to do the same things you and Gabby are. Especially afterwards.”
“Ew! Too much information!”
“So you’re not homophobic?”
“No. Why would you think - Right. I just don’t trust the Evanses.”
“Well, I trust Ryan. And it’s going to be like this for a while. You can either be happy for us once you come to your senses - like I did with Gabby - or we can end our friendship over something so menial as my boyfriend.”
“You’re dating now?”
“Yup. Holding hands in public, going to the movies to neck, the works.”
It’s only slightly satisfying to see his face. It looks like he’s about to puke. “How serious are you?” he chokes out.
“Enough to come here together.”
“Oh.”
I look at him expectantly.
“Right. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t exactly sound sorry, but it’s a start.
I smile at him. “Good. Now I need to return to watch my date tear up the dance floor or he’ll never forgive me.”
Troy nods mutely.
---
“May I be the first to present your king and queen for the evening!” Taylor announces from the stage, pointing to the doorway where Ryan and I stand.
Ryan and I look at each other as we stand in the doorway. I collect Ryan’s hand in mine and nod.
“Our loyal subjects await,” I say with a grin. “Let’s shake things up.”
Ryan squeezes my hand and holds on as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and we make our entrance.
---
End.