My fics...
Feb. 17th, 2008 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
author_abzSomething much easier though, would be to just link to my FF profile. I now have twenty stories. :D My stuff.
But here are my beautiful Troypay stuff. In order. Starting with what started it all... my reigning favorite one-shot!
Sharpay walks methodically through the doorway, a split second before the tardy bell sounds, and goes to fill the only seat left: the one on Troy’s right side. She is dressed fashionably in all black, a knee-length dress and pumps with a long black shawl wrapped around her. Her expression is fixed and her only response to Ms. Darbus’s remark about punctuality is a curt nod. Troy doesn’t take in any of these things after he notices Sharpay’s attire.
He stares at his pen-cap, heart churning. He feels awful, worse than he originally thought he was supposed to feel. Not only did he now remember what today was, but he had forgotten in the first place. Guilt and remorse are quickly eating a hole in the pit of his stomach, and very suddenly his heart falls straight through it. Three years, he thinks. He can’t breathe for a second. Three years. Well, maybe two and a half? Is that what it would be? Troy feels confined in his seat, uncomfortable. His eyes dart up to the clock, and then over to Sharpay.
She is sitting rigidly, barely touching the back of the seat, and her gaze is directly forward, although he knows her focus is far away from here. He glances up at the clock again, and he can feel Sharpay’s presence to his right. It’s all too familiar to him, and he can remember perfectly.
Troy feels uncomfortable in the plastic seat, and he wants to get up and walk around. He feels like everyone in the room knows exactly why he’s sitting there, waiting anxiously for the clock to strike eight fifteen. Glancing over at Sharpay he feels immediately worse, she’s sitting perfectly still, legs crossed, and she’s staring down the clock. He knows that she’s used to fancier places, with plush waiting rooms that you don’t really have to wait in.
Instead, she’s sitting in a free clinic waiting for a very rare appointment. He wants to say something to her, but he doesn’t know what. He barely knows how he feels, let alone how she does. All Troy wants to do is go back to school and shoot around during free period to forget about everything. He feels bad about this too, but he had thought on the bus ride through town that holding her hand could work to calm both their nerves, but she wouldn’t have it. She was locked up inside herself and he knew it.
Troy is staring at the clock as a voice calls out, “Ms. Evans?” Suddenly his hand is clasped around Sharpay’s as she stands up. He looks at her then, and sees fear in her eyes, and he gives her hand a squeeze as they walk back through the doors.
Troy feels himself look up at the clock again, and he notes it is now eight twenty. He can’t believe it’s been three years. So much has changed. He squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose, the pain in his chest building. Troy knows now; he knows how he feels and he can’t escape it, even though he’s trying to. His heart is breaking, but he can’t imagine how Sharpay feels, even now.
Troy needs to say something now, and although he doesn’t know exactly what he should, he’s going to try. He looks at her and says softly, “Sharpay,” and he isn’t really surprised his voice cracks. She turns to look across the aisle at him, and he sees her eyes are shining with unshed tears. Their eyes lock for a second and it’s the same look they shared at the clinic, but instead of uncertainty and fear, they both see sadness. He breaks their gaze and tells the floor, “I’m sorry,” his voice cracking again.
His eyes meet hers again and she nods, “It’s okay.” Her voice is steady, but very soft, “Thanks though,” and they both nod ever so slightly. Both know they are on the same page now, and it’s a comforting thought. Troy sinks his head onto his crossed arms lying on his desk, and tries to breathe as steadily as possible. He lets the pain and sadness wash over him, and his mind wanders of its own accord.
Troy is sitting, although he can’t remember when he did sit down on the overstuffed footstool at the bottom of Sharpay’s bed. His brain is numb, and he’s glad he isn’t being forced to hurry himself out before the Evans family returns. In an attempt to focus he trains his gaze on Sharpay, and she is staring out of her window, clearly lost in thought.
He hears himself ask, “What’re you thinking?”
She doesn’t move or say anything, so he doesn’t really know that she has heard him, and continues to watch her. After a minute of charged silence Sharpay shudders out a sigh, “I’m just… names.” Her voice is of a higher pitch than usual and without seeing them he knows her eyes shine with tears. “Why do there have to be so many God damn names out there?”
She isn’t even really talking to him, but he responds anyway, “I’ll help.” Her head whips toward him, and he can practically hear her adamant, ‘What?’, so he continues, bewildered at how clear his head is, “I’ll pick a boy’s name, you pick a girl’s.”
Sharpay appears grateful, her eyes softening, and she offers him a meek smile, “Okay.” He accepts her smile with a nod, continuing to stare at his shoes.
Troy’s eyes sting now and his arms aren’t deep enough to hide in, so he sits up and attempts to compose himself. Breathing in and out slowly he manages to quell the oncoming tears for now, but he looks up at the clock and his heart aches again. He turns his gaze toward Sharpay and he notices her white knuckles gripping the desk, and her determined stare straight ahead, mentally and physically willing herself not to cry.
Before he can think Troy finds himself saying, “Shar.” Her head whips around, and she is blinking rapidly. He tries to make his voice work past the lump in his throat. “Michael,” he manages to whisper. Sharpay stares at him for a second, and he repeats a little louder, “Michael.”
She doesn’t need for him to elaborate; her brow crinkles for a second, her eyes light up a little, and a tiny frown appears, “Michael?” He nods in response, “Michael,” she blinks quickly again, and he has to look away before a tear falls. The rest of the period passes in silence, everyone painfully aware of a growing tension – excluding the two actually experiencing it.
Troy bursts from the room and out to his locker a second after the bell rings, and mechanically opens his locker, shoving his things inside. He watches the class file slowly out from the corner of his eye, and he rests his forehead against the cool metal, exhaling. Chad and Gabby pass by him cautiously, going to their own lockers, but Troy can tell from Chad’s stance he’ll be confronted later. He closes his eyes and exhales again, tears gradually squeezing from his eyes.
He notices Sharpay standing awkwardly behind him, and swivels to face her. Her eyes are full of still unshed tears, and he barely registers this before her arms wrap tightly around him, and he feels her sob. Sharpay is sobbing uncontrollably into Troy’s chest, and he reciprocates, clutching at her tightly. He is crying on top of her head, and she continues to sob; neither knows for how long, but they sway slowly, drenched in tears together.
Fairly abruptly Sharpay’s shoulders are jerking without sound, and she pulls back a little bit, hiccoughing out a wet, “Gloria.”
Troy isn’t sure of what he’s heard as he lay on top of her head; his mind is soggy. “Gloria?”
“Gloria.” She hiccoughs again and nuzzles her face into his shirt.
“Gloria,” he repeats unconsciously, and Sharpay sways slightly with him as her breathing calms. Troy is more comfortable now than he has been in a while, and more at ease, but she shifts out of his arms. They both smile weakly at each other, and hurriedly wipe their eyes. Sharpay then leans up and kisses Troy’s cheek, and turns off into the now deserted hallway.
Her heels are clicking farther and farther away and he sees her wipe at her eyes again. He is still standing where she left him, and a small, sad smile is imprinted on his face. Gloria he thinks. Gloria. His baby.
Far off now he can still hear the click of heels. Gloria. Their baby.
My first drabble! Of course, inspired by a song AND video! :D
Why didn’t he see it? Why did no one else see it? She was at the end of her rope trying to get him to notice her again.
She could still feel his lips against hers. The heat between them, and the feeling of forever while lying in his arms. They had that click, and they both knew it.
So why was she watching him walk down the hallway with another girl? His group stopped across from her momentarily. He glanced up at her, and she smiled sadly back as they started to walk down the hall again.
But you’ll always be my golden boy…
Sharpay closed her locker and walked in the direction the crowd had just gone. She passed Troy again, and he watched her, a look in his eyes she hadn’t seen for a long time. Not hatred, not indifference – longing.
I don’t need you tell me I’m the one.
She didn’t feel like smiling still, but she didn’t want to cry.
The supposed 'sequel' to the above story. Okay, it actually is, but it doesn't have to be. It can stand all on its own!
She sighed in contentment; he buried his head into her neck, mumbling, “I miss you.” She leaned her head onto his, “Us.”
She simply turned a little more into him, nuzzling the fluffy chestnut hair, “Mmhmm.” Her understood question passed between them, ‘What happened?’
He gripped her tighter, sighing, “We were young. Stupid.”
She nodded in agreement, a slight smile tugging her lips, “Some more than others.” He actually chuckled at the blow, and turned her to face him completely.
Sharpay welcomed the fabric of his navy shirt against her cheek, beside his soft, kissable neck. She took the fabric between her fingers, remembering the texture. Slowly, softly she whispered, “I still love you.”
A little tiny vial of feeling had broken as she said it, and Troy could feel one break inside himself as well. He kissed the crown of her head, a tear welling out, “I know,” he rasped. “Me too.”
Sharpay wrapped her arms around his back and he cradled her head in his one arm. The two swayed slowly, afraid of what would happen if they let go. When they finally did, it was with their hands linked, ready to face the world.
Click.
A week later Sharpay lay in her bed, nestled close to his side. He lay, half asleep beside her, stroking her hair with a little hum. She smiled drowsily, never having felt so safe or cared for; wrapped up in his arms.
Forever.
Actual drabble! Right here:
Three tears made it all the way down her cheeks as his name was called, and he posed with their principal, corny smile included.
The tears fall freely down her face, she doesn’t even care about her make-up. She smiles through them, her eyes fixed on him. She reaches him and feels her heart may burst from his smile.
She breaks convention, hugging him, “I can’t believe it,” she whispers, “Nobody pinch me.”
Voila. For all of my A/N and disclaimers, and summaries and what-not... follow my profile to the FF version of my stories... Or go to the respective LJ communities. :D I love LJ cuts... don't you?
-Abz
