Last Time …

"Do you why I asked you two to stay behind?"

"No," lied both Sharpay and Troy.

"It's because I want the two of you to stay an extra hour. Should anything happen to Ms. Montez before the big show, that is not how I want the performance. Now Sharpay, I know you're not used to being an understudy, but I thought even you would know that understudies get all the work and half the glory of the leads. That's their job. As hard as it is, there are no small roles, only small actors! So, I want you and Mr. Bolton to work on it. Unfortunately, I have some errands to run before tomorrow. I trust you both, to stay here without supervision. Please, rehearse. I'll be back to lock up in an hour." And with that she was off.

Before Sharpay could even blink Troy turned to her and started saying, "….

Chapter 3

"Sharpay, you're sick, aren't you?" Troy was tired of her denying it, but for some reason, the diva wouldn't give in and just go home and be taken care of like everyone else. But that was what had attracted him to Sharpay. She was a total enigma. He could never figure her out. She kept him on his toes and they were only just getting to know each other. As much as he hated to admit it, being in a committed relationship and all, he wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to figure her out. Why she'd freak out for no apparent reason, why she always took everything a little to seriously, why she was so freaking hot?

But Sharpay wasn't quite ready to go home; she didn't want to be anywhere else but with Troy. She knew he was in a relationship, but she'd had a crush on Troy long before perfect Miss Gabriella showed up. In her mind, he had been hers. The reason he never been in a relationship was because he was too damn stupid to realize that the perfect girl had been right in front of him, as obnoxiously as she possibly could be all along. Even if it meant spending another hour feeling absolutely miserable, she wanted him to realize she was right there, and always had been. So she did what she had to. She denied it.

"Geez, Bolton!" Sharpay snapped into a character, just like always. This one was just a little pale, but felt fine and couldn't believe this guy was asking her how she felt. Again.

"I feel fine, for the millionth time. Let's just rehearse the damn play the way you and Gabriella do, even though, clearly, the way I did it would work so much better!" She paused after this exclamation, once again feeling dizzy, trying her best to cover it up, sure that Troy could see right through her. She was right.

"Really Sharpay? You feel fine?" Troy walked right up to her, looked her in the eyes, and put his hand on her sweat-covered forehead. Then he began to speak again, "Then why does your forehead feel like it's on fire? And are your eyes always so… moist?"

She glared at him, but it was too late. He knew the truth. And her angry stare wouldn't really make him want to spend more time with her, would it? She began to panic – she really was going to have to accept that he belonged with that high-pitched brat and she was going to wind up alone.

The thought made her dizzy, and weak. Or maybe that was the fever. Either way, both Troy and Sharpay were caught off guard as she began to fall and shed a tear at the same time. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, he caught her before she hit the stage and cradled her head in his lap.

"Sharpay!" Troy wanted to shout in a panic, but afraid of startling her it came out as more of a shouted whisper. He began to absentmindedly stroke her hair worried out of his mind, not having a clue as to what to do. He didn't really know what to do. While it had seemed like Darbus left hours ago, a quick glance at his watch told him it had only been about fifteen minutes ago. He was sure she would be incredibly disappointed if both of them left before she came back. He also wasn't entirely sure how to get Sharpay home – clearly she couldn't do it by herself. He could drive her home in his car, but he wasn't sure of the way and didn't even know the address. He could call Sharpay's mom, who could come and get her and then stay by himself and explain what had happened to Darbus. He didn't really like that option either. The theater was nice and all, but kind of creepy all alone. He could go and see whether the school nurse had left for the day. He knew at least one of the school's nurses had to stay after school for the after school activities. But then, he'd either have to leave Sharpay alone in the theater – an idea that he hated, as the nurses office was on the other side of school. He could run and get there fast, no problem, but the nurses were not exactly young and probably would take a bit longer to get back. He could of course try to carry her there, or have her lean on him and help her there, but there was a high probability that the nurse had already left, and the exhausting trip was one he wouldn't want to make unnecessarily. A voice in the back of his mind also pointed out that anyone staying after school might notice them and claim that he was cheating on Gabriella. Not that he'd care, but that rumor would spread like wildfire. He'd tell Gabriella the truth, and she would have to believe him when Sharpay was home sick the next few days. But he would never, ever cheat on Gabriella. So long as he was with her, his attraction to Sharpay alone caused him to feel guilt and remorse. Even if he never, ever did cheat, and she believed him, he couldn't stand for a rumor that associated him with cheaters. He wouldn't cheat on or off the court.

Troy hadn't a clue what to do. When he realized he was still stroking Sharpay's golden locks, it suddenly occurred to him that he was not alone in this, and not once had it occurred to him to ask her what she thought. After all, she was the sick one; the one's who'd have to deal with being uncomfortable in his car, alone in the theater, or making the hard trip across school. She might even be able to come up with a different idea. Sharpay, though sick, could be one of the most creative, insightful people he knew.

"Sharpay? Are you still awake?"

"Yes Troy, I didn't quite pass out on you."

"The thing is, you're sick. Really sick. And I don't know what to do. I don't know how to take care of people, and I don't know how I'd get you home or to the nurse, if she's even still there." He paused after saying this, not knowing quite how to ask her to come up with a solution he could live with.

"How about we stay here?"

"Here? You're freezing, and the theater and gym are the two coldest places in this school. We probably shouldn't stay."

"Well, you don't want to get into trouble with Darbus do you?"

"Well no, but," Troy was cut off by Sharpay who exclaimed,

"No buts, Troy. I love the theater. I live for it. And I'm sure Darbus would understand. She wouldn't have a problem with us not doing what she asked seeing as how I'm sick and your performance during any rehearsal is generally not bad. But I've never, ever disappointed her as much as I did with my terrible performance today. So, if it's all the same to you, can you just sit here with me and lie when she comes back and say we went through rehearsal and we'll do much better at the next understudy run-through? I'll even practice with you later if lying to her makes you feel guilty. Please, don't ruin my chances of Darbus taking me seriously for the next show."

"So, let me get this straight. You're sick. And instead of wanting to go home, snuggle under the covers, get treated on hand and foot, you'd much rather be here, lying uncomfortably on the theater stage, waiting for another half hour at the very least, maybe even longer, just so that Darbus will think highly of your abilities and take you more seriously for a role in a high school production?" He almost laughed. Then he thought about it a bit more and couldn't help himself. He tried to stop himself, he knew she wouldn't like it, but he couldn't help himself and burst into laughter.

Sharpay was offended. She knew Troy was a guy and all, but couldn't he be a bit more sensitive? After all she was sick and acting meant so much to her. Even if it was a just a high school, amateur production, she wanted to be an actress and had to get her start somewhere. The more he laughed, the harder. It made her mad, so mad that she stumbled over her words and yelled,

"I hate flu!" If anything, Sharpay's slip of the tongue caused him to laugh even harder and her cheeks to burn bright red.

"You. (Chuckle) Hate. (Laugh) The flu?" Who (Ha-ha). Doesn't?" Troy then began gasping for air having laughed so hard he didn't even know what had been so funny in the first place. All he knew was that, as good as it felt at the time, laughing like that had caused a stitch in his side and his abs had never quite had a workout like that. Sharpay, on the other hand, was now offended, embarrassed, angry, and had a whole slew of other feelings swirling around inside of her. She loved him, but she couldn't stand him seeing her so … imperfect; so flawed. Now that Troy had stopped laughing, she would explain.

"Yes, Troy, that's exactly what I'm saying. When I was little, I always had this dream of being the star of every single production I ever auditioned for. I was perfect, flawless, amazing. Until you and every jock and geek in this school decided to try out, I had never once been rejected for the role I wanted. I know this sounds stupid to you, but it was my reality until your girlfriend beat me out on a role; to be honest a role she wasn't even very good at.

"I know that I don't have to be the star of every single show, but that's my identity in this school, the star of every production. I don't really know who I am without it. What am I, now that your girlfriend is star, too. I can't not be the star of the next show, Troy. It's who I am," Sharpay sighed before continuing,

"I know half and hour can be a really long time for someone who plays a game on the clock. Even over the course of a minute can enough happen to change the score and who wins. But half an hour really isn't that long. You and I, if you want, can just sit here and talk. I made it through a whole school day just to prove to Darbus that I am serious about this. Tomorrow, I'll stay in bed and sleep. But since I'm already here, I'd like to stay. I'll call my mom about ten minutes before Darbus comes, that way I won't have to drive home. Just stay here with me until then. Please?" she asked. Troy's heart broke on that last word. She had sounded so weak and tired when she finished her little monologue. He wouldn't have ever left her alone, but staying in the auditorium with a sick Sharpay wouldn't have been his first idea. In fact, it wasn't even in his first three. She was the sick one however, and while he didn't like her idea much more than any of his own, it was her choice and she had made it. He didn't want to let this opportunity go to waste however; he would use all of this time to figure out more about her.

"Okay, Sharpay. Since you're the sick one, and this is what you want, I'll stay right here with you. After Darbus locks up, you can wait in my car until your mom comes, okay?" Troy then took off his sweatshirt, rolled it up almost like a ball, gently lifted Sharpay's head, placed the balled up sweatshirt where his lap had been, then carefully lowered her head onto it. Sharpay looked up at him, and Troy could almost see the questions forming in her mind. Before she could start to ask he told her in a gentle voice,

"I'm going to the bathroom. It'll only take a couple of minutes. I promise I'll be right back." Sharpay just nodded in acceptance and started to drift off. It had been a particularly tiring day for her. She fell asleep before Troy had reached the theater doors.

Troy had decided that the only ways he was going to sit another twenty minutes with Sharpay Evans was if she were as comfortable as he could make her. Luckily for him, he had not one, but two extra sweatshirts in his locker (New Mexico nights could be particularly chilly and after a game, it was always better to have one or two in his locker, just in case). He stopped by locker and grabbed the sweatshirts thinking he could use them as blankets. Then, he headed towards the bathroom. He grabbed a couple of paper towels and held them under the cold, running tap water. He remembered his mom doing the same thing with actual towels, but he didn't have any with him, and these would work for at least a little right?

He then headed back for the theater. He was amazed to find that Sharpay had fallen asleep before he got back as he knew it couldn't have been more than five minutes. He checked his watch. It had only taken him two. Troy didn't want to wake her up, so he put his sweatshirts on top of her and used the cold paper towels to gently sponge her face and neck. As he started sponging, Sharpay began to wake. But whatever Troy was doing felt so good she let him continue and sighed contentedly. She didn't feel as uncomfortable as before. Her arms were not as cold, her head not as hot. She didn't know she could love a person as much as she loved Troy right then and there. It wasn't a lusting kind of love, either. It was the same type of affection she could feel for anyone. Why people always jumped to the lust conclusion Sharpay never knew. It's not like she wanted to do him right there. Though how he made her miserable sick self feel almost good was near magical. He always took her breath away with how thoughtful and considerate he could be. It was like he was far more mature than the other guys at school. She loved that about him.

He looked at her, amazed at the girl in front of him. Gabriella had had a little cold earlier that month. No fever, just a little coughing, a little sneezing, and a little misery. He remembered that Gabriella had burst into tears at the thought of going to school. He kinda missed the gist of her tearful monologue. He didn't ask, but he couldn't understand how exactly it was that she could study, watch TV, play games on her computer, and, somehow, was still too sick to go to school. If he were too sick for school, his eyes would not be able to look at a computer screen, and he would have slept all day. Sharpay, on the other hand, the girl you'd expect to want to stay home and be fussed over, the overly dramatic ice queen, had not only gone to school when she clearly shouldn't have, she made through the entire day and a rehearsal. That was quite a feat. It made him think she was insane, sure. And never mind thinking about all the people she might have infected. It was a good kind of insane. And just sitting here with her was awesome enough. But he wanted to know more about her, and knew she was awake, so he decided to do what he wanted to do before – get to know her better.

"Sharpay?" Troy began.

"Yes, Troy."

"I just wanted to know why you take these high school productions so seriously."

"What? There's no other way to treat them!"

"Look, I know how you feel. I love basketball the same way. That's why I don't just limit it to high school. On the weekends my dad and I play on a league at the community center. I volunteer coach a younger team. I just don't understand why you like the high school ones so much. They're not really that great. And you have real talent, Sharpay. Look, if you're really interested in acting and drama, the community center puts on great productions – everyone gets involved and you'd be surprised at the number of people who come – definitely more people than at high school shows. My mom, she teaches at the community college,* and I know that they put on some great productions, too. Also, highschoolers are allowed to take some classes before graduating, Drama 101 is one of them. All I'm saying is, someone like you shouldn't confine yourself to these small – scale productions. You should maybe put a little less effort into these shows by Darbus and open your eyes to all the acting challenges and experiences around you."

Sharpay thought about what Troy had said. She hadn't really given much thought to why she never tried acting elsewhere. She wasn't really sure about whether she was insecure in her acting and singing and didn't want put herself out there just yet. Or maybe it was because no one had ever complimented her on her acting skills alone. This was actually the first time she could remember someone telling her that she, Sharpay, on her own, had a lot of talent. Thinking back, everyone else she had ever met complimented her brother and herself as a set. 'You guys are so talented!' 'You'll take Broadway by storm, you two!' In years of acting experience she'd never branched out and tried anything new, or solo. She'd always acted with her brother by her side in high school shows because they were, well, safe. She'd always get the part, always act with him, she never had to put herself out there, she'd never, ever have to admit failure.

Until Troy had suggested she branch out a bit, she never realized that what she, someone who claimed to be serious about acting, had failed to actually try acting. She stuck with safe projects with her trusting sidekick. But Troy was right. If she wanted to be an actress, she'd have to put herself out there at some point.

"You're right, Troy." She finally said.

"Last thing I expected to hear from you, Sharpay, but thanks."

"No, really. You're right. I've always stuck to high school shows because they were safe. I'd always get the lead. I resented you and Gabriella from taking that from my brother and I, but you're right. I call myself a serious actress, I should probably start acting like one." Troy smiled at her. He had almost felt guilty about taking the Evan's twins "rightful" leads with Gabriella. He had wanted to tell Sharpay all of this for a long time, but never had the chance. Now that they were patiently waiting for Darbus, what better time to tell her. He looked down at his watch and was shocked. Those twenty last minutes were almost up.

"Sharpay, Darbus is gonna be here any minute. I'm gonna throw these paper towels out, you can wear my sweatshirts – all three if you'd like, or just shove the ones you don't want in my school bag so I can take them home and wash them. If you're up to it, we can perform the end of Act 1, make it look like we really were rehearsing all this time when she comes in. What do you think?"

"I think I'm gonna wear all three sweatshirts, call my mom and let her know I don't feel good, then we can perform the end of Act 1 as flawlessly as possible. Troy nodded and went towards the back of the room where there were two large trashcans to throw out the paper towels. Troy's sweatshirts were miraculously three different sizes and Sharpay put the smallest sweatshirt on first. It fit her perfectly, which was weird since Troy was not the same size as her. Troy had started walking back towards the stage and saw what she saw – it really did fit her well. He smiled at her and said,

"Keep that one."

"What?" Sharpays voice had several tones of disbelief.

"You look great in that. It's a little tight for me, so just keep it." Sharpay smiled. God, Troy really was too sweet. She then put on the next smallest sweatshirt – a pullover hoodie. The last, and largest was a zippered hoodie. Sharpay wasn't a big fan, but if she got too hot – and right now it didn't feel like she could, she could unzip it easily and see if that helped before bothering with the other two. Sharpay then called her mom, told her mom she wasn't feeling well, and could she maybe pick Sharpay up? She ended the call just as Troy joined her on stage again. Upon seeing that Sharpay would be fine for at least the next few minutes, he began to start his lines. After all, Darbus could walk in any second.

Just as Sharpay started a near flawless delivery, the door opened. Knowing that the show must always go on, Sharpay continued her lines, doing an amazing job. Darbus watched, clearly pleased Sharpay could do so well after only an hour of hard work. She didn't know was that it was really an hour of rest that had helped.

As Troy was about to start his next line, Darbus interrupted, her large, near musical voice reached the stage saying,

"All right, that's enough for today. Sharpay, that was excellent. I expect this level at the next rehearsal, all right. Now I think I've kept you from your homework long enough. Don't forget that you need a C average or higher to be in this show, and I won't be the reason for a failure. So go home and I'll see you tomorrow. Oh, and Sharpay, send your brother my regards, I hope he's feeling better." With that, rehearsal was finally over. Sharpay couldn't wait to go home, lie in her big warm bed, and be taken care of for a change. Then the day after, she could look into the thing Troy had mentioned. A drama class at the community college sounded like a good start. Then, maybe she could teach what she learned to a bunch of little kids at the community center as a volunteer. Troy was right – there were far too many things she could be doing with her talent besides starring in the school show. Sharpay couldn't believe how helpful and friendly Troy had been all afternoon. She knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with. She turned to face him as they left the theater. Thinking she wasn't gonna make it out okay without help, he turned to ask if she needed help.

"Troy?" Sharpay managed to get out tentatively before he could ask.

"Yes, Sharpay?" He asked.

"Thanks for everything today. Really. You didn't have to sponge off my face, you didn't have to lend or give me a sweatshirt, you didn't even have to care all day. But you did when no one else even noticed I was sick. My mom didn't even notice this morning. And you seemed to genuinely care about my acting and me. It's more than I can say for anyone else here. I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to deal with, in case you haven't noticed, I have near no friends because of it. So what I mean to say is thanks. I really appreciate it."

Troy smiled at her. Sharpay seemed so different. So much smarter, not nearly as mean, and a lot sweeter than everyone else at school seemed to think.

"Hey, it's no problem really. Just do me a favor, next time you feel this bad, just stay home, okay? No reason to infect the entire school with whatever major bug you got. Now listen, I'm going to walk you out to the lot and wait until your mom comes. I don't want to see you till you're fever free, got it?"

He smiled at her again. He didn't know what he was going to do about Gabriella, they both knew their relationship was over, but he didn't want it to end. It was safe. He understood Sharpay acting in high school shows because high school shows were to Gabriella as community center shows were to Sharpay. Sharpay could be biting your head off on minute, your best friend the next. She was a challenge, an enigma of the best kind. He was working up the nerve, and maybe he'd get there eventually, but right now he was safe with Gabriella. And staying there.

THE END

* I have no idea what Mrs. Bolton does. I don't think it was mentioned, so I made that up. It fits. Also, high school students probably have to take college level English and Math before they can take a class like Drama. Though Sharpay is probably smart enough to pass a placement test and skip them.

Author's Note:

I know, I haven't updated this story in over a year! Actually it's a bit more than that, hasn't it. I'm so sorry. This chapter was written today – one long consolation prize for sticking to it so long. I apologize, really I do. Even more so if you feel all the pieces didn't quite fit – I hate rereading my work and don't have someone to do it for me. I didn't really know where to end it, but I while writing, this just felt like the end. Troy persuaded Sharpay to do what he's afraid to – try something new. He longs for her but wont go after it because while he isn't happiest with Gabriella, she's not exactly going to dump him then change her mind in five seconds flat. Sharpay's the kind of girl who would. She'd keep him on his toes, and I don't know any teenage boy who really wants to work at a relationship.

I haven't seen high school musical in a very long time, I probably should have found and watched it again or something. I don't really feel like writing it, so please don't ask for a sequel. Feel free however, to be inspired by this piece and write your own sequel, companion, etc.

Till next time iwritefiction.