Wildest Dreams

"Evans! I'm not saying I'm gonna dance in the show...but if I did...what would you have me do?"

A slow grin spread across Ryan's face as he contemplated his own sudden change in fortune. After all, only a few hours before he'd been lamenting his sudden and rather rude removal from the talent show by his controlling and power-hungry sister. But now it seemed that not only would he be PERFORMING in the talent show, but he'd actually have the chance to DIRECT a group of his fellow East High students, giving him actual control over his performance, something his sister NEVER allowed.

And that group of fellow students had definitely shown a lot of dance potential on the baseball diamond today. Especially Chad. Despite the jock's continuous protestations, Ryan could tell that Chad definitely had the grace and physicality to be a GREAT dancer. And Ryan couldn't wait to start honing those skills and molding the jock into a star performer, someone he'd be proud to share a stage with.

On post-game autopilot, Ryan wandered off the baseball diamond toward the locker rooms, his mind lost in thoughts of the upcoming show. In addition to Chad's dancing skills, there was also Gabriella's singing talent to consider. Surely Kelsi could write a song that could showcase both Gabriella's voice AND Chad's dancing.

And, of course, Ryan would make sure that there was a substantial role for himself in the performance as well. While the idea of directing, of actually controlling what went on on-stage, was practically making him giddy, he still loved the spotlight. What was the point of having control if you didn't give yourself a chance to shine -- isn't that what Shar always did? And, all modesty aside, Ryan knew that he was talented, and he wanted to make this routine the best it could be.

And besides, he wanted to make sure that Shar saw that he wasn't helpless without her. In fact, he secretly hoped that maybe she would be hopeless without him. But considering the masterful scheme she'd been executing this summer to try to get Troy to like her, Ryan kind of doubted that Shar would even notice that her brother wasn't around.

But she was sure to notice when he took the stage with his fellow Wildcats at the talent show!

Ryan smiled at the thought. He couldn't even believe that he was already thinking of them that way -- his FELLOW Wildcats. Ryan had spent most of high school fearing and/or avoiding most of his fellow classmates, especially the jocks. Ryan's home was the theatre, and the less time he spent around his large, intimidating classmates, the less likely he was to get his ass kicked.

But now these same guys were asking him to join their group. More than join -- they were asking him to LEAD. And that was something that Ryan had never thought would happen, not even in his wildest dreams.

And for the first time in quite awhile, Ryan was actually starting to feel like part of a team. Sure, he and his sister had teamed up in the drama department for years, starring in show after show and co-leading the Drama Club together. But recently Ryan had been slowly catching on to the fact that he wasn't really Sharpay's PARTNER -- he was more like her very own human-sized singing/dancing accessory, something she was more than happy to leave at home if he didn't happen to match her latest outfit or scheme. And Ryan knew she'd be FURIOUS to find out that he'd be competing against her in the talent contest, and the thought filled his heart with a warm glow.

Ryan was still reveling in these joyous thoughts as he entered the locker room, but his good mood instantly faded as soon as he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He'd completely forgotten the fact that he had merely played the game in the clothes he'd been wearing, so he had nothing to change into. But more than that, the dirt covering the front of his white shirt stared back at him from his reflection, a crushing reminder of the end of the game.

They'd lost.

Or, more precisely, HE'D lost.

Despite pitching one of the best games of his life, which was quite a feat considering how long it'd been since he'd stood on a pitcher's mound, Ryan had been unable to tag Chad's final slide into home, the slide that won the game. That meant that the loss was entirely on Ryan's head. And that kind of loss was not something that sat well with either Evans twin.

For, while Ryan and Sharpay were obviously not identical twins, they still shared many traits in common, the most obvious of which was their competitive spirit. It was a well-known fact that the Evanses didn't like to lose.

Of course, Ryan had learned not to be competitive about things that he was hopelessly bad at. Like schoolwork, for instance. Or golf. If he knew he didn't have a chance of winning, he didn't bat an eye.

But Ryan KNEW he was good at baseball, and he knew that he should've won that game today. Which meant his competitive spirit was turned on in full force, ready to destroy whatever, or WHOMever, had kept him from winning.

Which in this case was Ryan himself.

Ryan immediately began to mentally chastise himself for the loss, going over every nanosecond of the entire game in his head and blaming himself for every minute move that might have had an effect on the final score. While there were many small mistakes to obsess over, it was the larger faults that Ryan's mind zoomed in on.

Clearly he'd been too cocky about his previous championship experience and had let his guard down, not playing to his full potential.

Clearly he'd been too busy concentrating on convincing Chad to dance in the show to give the needed concentration to his game.

Clearly...

Ryan shook his head, realizing that this was getting him nowhere. The game was over, and there was nothing he could do now to change that. What was it that his yoga instructor was always saying, about not worrying about the things that you can't change? So Ryan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and brought his hands down in front of his face, slowly breathing out as he tried to let the tension flow out of him.

Once he'd returned to a state of calm, he opened his eyes...and was immediately greeted once again by the reflection of his dirty shirt.

But this time Ryan merely shrugged, able to see the shirt not for what it stood for but merely for what it was. And the shirt itself was filthy. Maybe Ryan couldn't do anything about the game now, but at least he could do something about his shirt.

He walked over to the sink, grabbing a few paper towels on the way. As he turned on the water to wet the towels, the water sprayed out of the faucet sideways, drenching the front of his white pants.

And it was at this exact moment that the Wildcat baseball team decided to charge into the locker room, still buzzing with their victory rush.

At the very sight of the jocks, Ryan suddenly felt like he was back in the halls of East High. He froze where he stood, hoping that he wouldn't be noticed and would simply fade into the linoleum tiles.

But no such luck.

"Hey Evans," Jason called out as he caught sight of Ryan's wet pants, "the urinals are that way."

Jason's teammates laughed and gave the clown high-fives as Ryan secretly longed for the trap door that he'd disappeared into so many times in musical productions.

'This is a nightmare,' Ryan thought, still too petrified to move. In fact, Ryan regularly HAD nightmares that were very similar, usually involving the East High basketball team in a locker room such as this, sticking his head in a toilet or doing other similarly humiliating teen pranks. And this was exactly why Ryan rarely ventured far from the drama department...or far from his sister. Much as he hated to admit it, Ryan liked the protection afforded him by the mere fact that most of the school feared his sister's wrath. Sharpay was fiercely loyal to her twin, except obviously when it came to performances, and she actively defend him against all such teen bullies.

Though he didn't exactly imagine she'd be coming to his rescue today.

Ryan now regretted not immediately heading home after the game. Just think -- he could now be safely home, sharing a hot chocolate with his mom as she commiserated with him over his loss.

But he wasn't home -- he was in a locker room, full of Wildcat jocks who were eager to make him the butt of their jokes.

And to make matters worse, Chad was now walking towards him.

"Dude," Chad said, clasping a friendly hand onto Ryan's shoulder, "what happened?"

For some reason, Chad's friendly clasp made Ryan both more relaxed AND more tense. He shrugged, barely able to get out, "The water...uh...sprayed."

"Well, DUH!" Chad joked, causing the Wildcats collecting their stuff from the nearby lockers to laugh. "I meant, what happened to you after the game. You just disappeared and completely missed the post-game handshakes."

Ryan suddenly remembered the post-game tradition from his days in Little League, where each team would gather in a line and file past the other team, shaking hands with each opponent in the spirit of good sportsmanship. It was a tradition that Ryan had thoroughly enjoyed when he'd been on a winning team -- it gave him a thrill to look each opponent in the eye and let them know that he had had an active part in making them lose. This ceremonial gloating was one of the best parts of winning, and it only fed Ryan's competitive spirit.

But it was no surprise that he had conveniently forgotten this tradition today, being on the losing team instead of the winning one. And Ryan wasn't sure he would've stayed for it even if he HAD remembered. The idea of looking each Wildcat in the eye, knowing that he'd lost to them, was something he didn't think he could stomach.

Unfortunately, Chad didn't see it that way.

"Hey guys," he called to his teammates, "Evans here missed the handshakes."

"That's not right." "It's tradition, man." "He deserves it."

Ryan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Were they being...friendly?

"Then let's do it, team!" Chad called out as he stepped in front of a dazed Ryan and shook his hand, the first in a line that was spontaneously forming. "Awesome game, man!" Chad's voice was earnest, with not a touch of sarcasm or gloating. "I mean it!"

"Yeah," Zeke said, stepping up to Ryan and eagerly shaking his hand. "That double play was amazing!"

"You should come out for the team next year," Jason said as he took Ryan's hand next. "We could use a pitcher like you."

Ryan just stood there in shock as the rest of the Wildcats filed by, each more complimentary than the last. Most of these guys had never said a word to him at school, but suddenly they were treating him like they'd been best buds forever.

But better than that, they were treating him like a winner, even though they had beaten him!

After the handshakes, the Wildcats started leaving the locker room in small groups, chatting eagerly about how hungry they were. Soon, only Chad remained, and he returned to Ryan's side, patting him on the back.

"Dude, we're all going for food at the concession stand." Chad flipped his wallet into the air meaningfully, and Ryan suddenly realized why all the Wildcats had come back to the locker room -- baseball pants were too tight to carry a wallet around in them! "You should come along."

Ryan smiled, once again feeling that sense of team and belonging he'd felt earlier. And he felt something else, too -- a slight thrill at the thought that he was being invited by Chad. But then he caught his reflection in the mirror, and his thoughts came screeching back to reality.

Gesturing at his dirty shirt and wet pants, Ryan said, "I can't go out like this." Disappointment was heavy in his voice as he added, "I should just go home."

"Nonsense!" Chad said. "You deserve some victory chow. C'mon," he said, reaching for the bottom of Ryan's shirt, "we'll clean you right up."

And suddenly Chad was taking off Ryan's dirty shirt. Ryan was so in shock that he didn't resist -- but he didn't do much to speed the process either. The feel of Chad's hands as they grazed his chest made Ryan's breath catch, so he didn't even bother to pick up his hat, which had been knocked to the floor.

But Chad didn't seem to notice Ryan's stunned reaction. "We can wash this up for you and be on our way," he said, heading for the sink.

Ryan didn't come out of his stupor until it was too late. "That one...!" he began, but Chad was already discovering for himself the plumbing irregularities.

"...Sprays," Ryan finished after-the-fact as Chad jumped back, the front of his own white baseball pants now drenched.

But Chad merely laughed at the turn of events. "Oh well -- I got shorts I can change into," he said, moving to the next sink over and starting to wash Ryan's shirt.

"Do you...maybe...," Ryan asked uncomfortably, staring down at his own wet pants, "...have a pair I could change into?"

"Sorry, Dude," Chad said, shaking his head. "But you can probably dry 'em under the hand dryer," he suggested.

Ryan slowly made his way over to the dryer on the wall and pushed the button. But after a moment standing under the hot blowing air, he jumped back. "Ow!"

"Dude, take your pants off before you do some real damage!"

Ryan did as he was told, kicking off his shoes and stripping off his wet pants so he was left standing there in his undershirt and boxers.

Alone in the locker room with Chad...

Ryan quickly shook the next thoughts from his mind and held his wet pants up to the dryer, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

Over at the sink, Chad was scrubbing away at Ryan's shirt, trying to get the foamy soap from the hand dispenser to remove the dirt stains and failing utterly. "Won't...come...out," Chad grumbled with the effort.

Ryan couldn't help but smile at the irony of the boy's statement. After all, Ryan knew that any fantasies that he had about what he and Chad could be doing together in the locker room right now were merely that -- fantasies. As Chad had just stated, he wasn't about to "come out" of the closet and spontaneously start kissing Ryan on the linoleum floor. Ryan didn't think Chad "swung" that way, but even if he did, Ryan wouldn't have blamed him for keeping it a secret.

After all, even Ryan hadn't "officially" come out of the closet to his own sister yet, let alone his fellow students at East High. Only his mother knew his real reasons for all the posters of Ashton Kushner and Orlando Bloom on his bedroom walls, though he figured his sister had probably put two and two together by now. Of course, most people automatically assumed which way he "swung" merely because he was in Drama Club; unfortunately for Ryan, he was the only thespian in the club who actually DID swing that way.

And, unfortunately, Chad was a "guy's guy". Ryan figured he'd never be interested in an over-moussed show-dog such as himself, no matter how hard he wished it.

Though stranger things had happened.

Like Chad Danforth washing out Ryan Evans's shirt in the Lava Springs locker room sink!

Chad turned off the faucet and wrung out Ryan's shirt. Holding it up for Ryan to see the ground-in dirt still visible across the front, he said, "Sorry, Dude -- it's the best I could do."

Ryan shrugged. He could always buy a new one tomorrow.

"How are your pants coming along?" Chad asked, walking over to the dryers. Along the way he casually scooped up Ryan's hat, which had fallen to the floor when he'd removed Ryan's shirt. But instead of tossing the hat back to its owner, he merely placed it on his head. "How do I look?" he joked, grinning at his silly reflection in the mirror.

'You look hot,' Ryan wanted to say. But instead he teased, "You look like you wet yourself," hoping that his comment would explain why he hadn't actually been looking at Chad's "new" hat.

Chad laughed, looking down at his wet pants. "Yeah, I didn't want to change into my shorts till I was done with your shirt," he said, now casually kicking off his wet pants and tossing them over to the bench next to his other clothes. "I didn't trust myself not to get THEM wet, too, y'know?" he explained, smacking the button on the hand dryer to make it start blowing.

But Ryan was barely listening -- it seemed as if his own wet pants drying under the hand dryer were suddenly intensely interesting.

Ryan tried to slow his heartbeat, relying on fear to cool himself down. He couldn't believe that Chad had been so casual about stripping down to his underwear with him standing right there. And now Chad was standing right next to him, dressed only in his white tank top and undies, drying Ryan's shirt under the hairdryer. What if someone comes in and sees the two of us standing here in our underwear? Ryan worried. What would they think?!

They would think that this is a locker room, Ryan realized. Guys are SUPPOSED to stand around in a locker room in various states of undress.

And Ryan suddenly made himself promise that he would go into the East High locker rooms a lot more next year.

Ryan snuck another glance over at Chad, standing there in his underwear, casually drying Ryan's shirt under the hot dryer. But suddenly his own dryer automatically shut off, and Ryan glanced back at the pants he'd been drying. "I guess these are dry enough," Ryan said. He quickly put on the warm pants and then grabbed his shoes from the floor where he'd kicked them off, walked over to the bench, and sat down to put them on.

As Chad rotated the shirt under the dryer to get all of it dry, he commented, "Nice shirt."

Ryan smiled smugly to himself as he tied his shoe. One thing he did know how to do was dress well. "It's a Ralph Lauren," he said, a self-satisfied tone in his voice.

And then suddenly an idea struck him. "You can wear it, if you want," he said, trying to sound casual.

Chad laughed, turning and giving him a weird look. "What?"

Ryan grinned, acting more confident than he actually felt. "You've already got my hat on," he teased. "The shirt would just...complete the outfit."

Chad laughed, shrugging. "Okay," he said. "But what'll YOU wear? Surely Ryan Evans can't walk around Lava Springs in just his undershirt," he teased.

Ryan still couldn't believe that Chad had gone for his suggestion, but clearly he hadn't really thought it through. After all, Chad was right -- Ryan wasn't about to walk around his own country club in just his undershirt. However, the blonde boy felt emboldened by this latest turn of events, and he decided to go for it and finish what he'd started. Grabbing Chad's red baseball shirt off the bench next to him, Ryan casually said, "I'll just wear your shirt. After all, I'm part of the team now, right?" Ryan grinned hopefully at the jock. "Team Talent Show?"

Chad laughed, nodding. "Sure." Shrugging, he added, "Why not?"

As the dryer automatically turned off, Chad felt the front of the shirt he'd been drying. "It'll do," he determined, quickly throwing it on, pulling it down awkwardly over the striped hat that he hadn't bothered to remove. Then, picking up his shoes and grabbing his wet pants from off the bench, he hurried around to the lockers on the other side to get out his dry shorts. "We better hurry," he called out to Ryan over the lockers, "or the rest of the team will have eaten everything in the place!"

Ryan smiled smugly to himself and slowly put on Chad's shirt, breathing in Chad's odor. He then placed Chad's red baseball hat on his head and stood up, checking himself out in the mirror. He couldn't believe how much he looked like a normal red-blooded American male -- he wished his dad could see him in this outfit.

"C'mon," Chad said, leading the way to the door with his dry shorts on under Ryan's still-damp shirt. "Everyone will be waiting for us."

Ryan followed, unable to keep the giddy smile off his face. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever imagined that he'd be off to a concession stand for "victory chow" with Chad Danforth...dressed in Chad's clothes!

But there were plenty of "wildest dreams" he HAD had...

And since he was going to be spending a lot of time with Chad, intimately working with the jock on his dancing, Ryan couldn't help but wonder if any of THOSE dreams might come true, too!

THE END