Chapter Text
It’s almost easy, after that.
Ricky and the rest of his team return to the gym and finish the last ten minutes, still riding their callback high. Ricky knows he’s grinning as he plays, even during the most crucial moments. He’s more present than ever on the field, more aware of his teammates around him and of the right moves to be made. He genuinely doesn’t think he’s played better in his life.
The rest of his team seems to be in a similar mood. Not all of them - none of them, really, save for Big Red and Seb - had been that involved in the whole callback business but after Ricky and Big Red had set the record straight about what was going on, they’d all been supportive of it. They hadn’t all known about the plan to forcibly pause the game, but judging by their presence in the auditorium, they’d figured out what was going on soon.
The West High Knights, on the other hand, had not. They’re clearly still a bit confused, both by the interruption and East High’s renewed energy. They don’t give in, still put up a good fight, but Ricky thinks they all see their defeat coming.
When that final buzzer sounds, East High is leading by five points, three of which Ricky scored himself.
As soon as Ricky hears the sound, he turns around and throws himself into the waiting arms of Big Red. The rest of his team, including the players on the bench and Seb, follow his lead. They fall into a pile onto the gym floor, all sweaty and gross, an elbow digging into Ricky’s ribs and a knee near his head. He doesn’t care, though. If a bruise or two is the price he has to pay for a day like this, he’ll happily take it.
After a couple minutes of the team yelling and laughing and some of them wiping away a tear or two, they seperate again. As is tradition, they line up and shake their opponents’ hands. When they finish, Coach Mazzara is already waiting for them, the cup they earned in hand. He smiles as he hands it off to Ricky.
“Well done, Ricky. You’ve never played better.”
“Thanks, Coach M,” Ricky replies, fingers curling around the ears of the cup. It's a lot lighter than he thought it’s be. “I didn't know you knew my first name, you’ve used my last name so many times.”
“And I regret the switch already,” Coach mutters, but he ruffles Ricky’s hair as he does so, which Ricky takes to mean that he isn't actually serious about it.
Ricky turns back to his team, then, and hoists the cup above his head. Seb and Big Red come towards him and link their hands together, swooping up behind him so he ends up sitting on their intertwined hands. The move is so smooth Ricky thinks they must have practiced it - he did leave them alone with Nini for a couple minutes the day before, and they had all had flushed cheeks when he returned…
They parade around the gym as a team, Ricky and the cup above their heads. Big Red leads them in their team cheer, then Seb and some of the cheerleaders chant one of the cheer squad’s songs. More people join their little parade as the students who watched their game and everyone’s parents stream onto the gym floors. Barring the marching band, which is now playing some upbeat pop song with lots of trumpets, barely anyone is still in the bleachers. The parade quickly turns into a bit of a dance party. Ricky is still held up high and he takes advantage of his position to try and find EJ, but he can't see him.
He does see another familiar face, though. He pats Big Red’s shoulder and his friend lowers him to the ground immediately, Seb following his lead.
“Here,” Ricky shoves the cup at Big Red and heads for his dad.
“Congrats,” His dad pulls him into a tight hug. “Looks like you won twice today, huh?”
Ricky freezes in his dad’s arms. Thing is, he had never actually told his dad about the callback. Part of him had foolishly hoped that he wouldn’t make it to the auditorium in time and would never end up seeing Ricky perform.
It’s not that he doesn't think his dad will hate him for singing. He thinks he’d probably be pretty neutral about it as long as Ricky makes clear that he won't be quitting the basketball team. It's just that between all the stress from the game and the callback, paired with the emotional fallout of his parents’ divorce, he’d never had the time to sit his dad down and explain what has been going on in his life.
“I meant to tell you,” he says now, finally unable to avoid it any longer. “It just happened so fast.”
His dad smiles at him, though.
“We’ll talk later, yeah?” He claps Ricky’s shoulder. His hand stays there and squeezes. Ricky can't help but smile.
“You gotta celebrate with your friends, first. Text me when you’re headed home - I think we can relax your curfew for once. I’ll pretend it's the first time you’ve missed it this week.”
“Thanks, dad.” Ricky hugs him again. When his dad finally pushes him off, complaining that Ricky is sweaty and sticky, Ricky turns back around to face the rest of the gym. He’s about to walk over to the rest of his team, now talking to a bunch of their friends in the middle of the floor, when he finally sees him.
EJ is standing only a few feet away. He’s got the sleeves of that stupidly pretty shiny shirt rolled up and his hands are shoved into his pockets. He spots Ricky only a second after Ricky sees him and the two of them move forward at the same time, meeting somewhere in the middle.
“Congratulations,” EJ says. Ricky has to lean closer to hear him over the noise of the gym. “I'd hug you again, but.” He gestures at Ricky’s sweaty clothes and grimaces. Ricky chuckles.
“Thanks. How about your match?”
“We won, too.” EJ pulls one of his hands out of his pocket to show Ricky the medal. It’s just a tiny metal circle on a blue ribbon, nowhere near the size of the basketball trophy, but Ricky thinks it must be nice to have a medal to take home, rather than a shared cup. Besides, he looks really proud of it, which makes Ricky’s heart do that silly thing where it skips a beat.
It’s been doing that a lot around EJ. He hasn't taken the time to figure out what it means, but he’s not overly concerned about it. Things with EJ seem to go best when neither of them think about it too much. Besides, he has to focus on something else, now.
“Well,” he says, not quite able to keep the glee out of his voice. “You know what that means, then.”
EJ’s raised eyebrow indicates that he does not, in fact, know what that means, but it doesn't take him long to figure it out when Ricky approaches him with his arms spread out.
“Come on,” Ricky laughs as EJ scrambles away from him, “we both won and we got the leads, we gotta celebrate with a hug!”
He finally catches Ej around his middle. Despite his teasing, though, he keeps the loosest of grips on EJ’s waist, just links his arms together. If EJ leans back a little, he won't be touching Ricky at all.
Ricky does have some manners. He knows how much sweaty basketball jerseys stink, he’s not going to shove EJ's face into that.
EJ seems content to stay there, though, because he makes no move to turn away from Ricky. Suddenly, Ricky remembers how EJ had kissed his cheek after their performance. He swears he can still feel the ghost of EJ’s lips tingling on his cheek.
Acting on an impulse, Ricky leans in, using his hands, still curled together behind EJ’s back, to reel EJ in closer. Ricky slowly presses his lips to EJ’s cheek.
“Congratulations,” he whispers afterwards, not pulling back just yet. His breath fans out over EJ’s cheek and Ricky swears he feels him shiver.
EJ swallows audibly and tilts his head slightly. Ricky is still so close that his lips graze EJ’s skin again, this time much closer to his lips.
“You too,” EJ whispers.
Just when Ricky tilts his head slightly, when he sees EJ’s eyes falling shut, impossibly long eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks, someone crashes into them.
“Dude,” Big Red says breathlessly, oblivious to the moment he’s just interrupted, “this is yours.”
He shoves the ball of the match at Ricky. Next to him, EJ coughs, face completely red. Big Red turns to him, confused.
“Hey man, are you okay? Do you need some water or something?”
“We’re fine, Red.” Ricky tries very hard not to sound too annoyed. Big Red means well, after all. “Just fine. Thanks, man.”
Satisfied, Big Red turns around and disappears into the crowd. Ricky watches him for a few seconds when someone else catches his eye, he looks down at the basketball in his hands and suddenly, he has an idea.
“I’ll be right back,” he promises EJ. “I just have to do something first.”
He walks off without waiting for a response. He knows that’s probably rude, but this can't wait.
Nini is standing underneath one of the baskets. She’s lost the jacket of her suit, now just in the dark red slacks and a blouse. Her hair is pulled back into one of those fancy twists that are held together with one tiny clip, just how Ricky knows she likes it.
“Hey,” he says when he’s close enough, almost yelling to be heard over the marching band’s music. “I believe this is yours.”
He tosses the ball towards her in a low arc. She catches it automatically, but looks confused.
“It’s tradition that the playmaker gets the ball of the match,” he explains. “And, well, you wrote the music to Twinkle Towne. You’re literally the playmaker, right?”
Nini laughs, then. She twirls the ball in her hands.
“Thank you, Ricky, and congratulations, for both of your wins.”
“I couldn't have done it without you,” Ricky says, because it’s important to him that she knows that. That even though they might still have some talking to do, some things to clear out before their friendship continues, she knows how grateful he is for her.
“Well,” Nini shrugs her shoulders and tilts her head to the side in a Gina-esque move, “I suppose without me, you wouldn't have sounded nearly that good at your callback. You’ve come a long way since the third-grade choir.”
They laugh. Ricky looks over her shoulder, though, and EJ catches his eye again. He’s talking to Gina, of all people.
“Go rescue him,” Nini says, following his gaze. Ricky moes to do just that, but not before tugging the clip out of her hair the same way he used to do when they were younger, letting her hair tumble down over her shoulders. Her laugh follows him as he heads back to EJ.
He’s laughing, too. It's been a pretty good day, after all.
Gina doesn't give up easily, but she knows when she’s lost.
Yes, she and Carlos absolutely nailed their callback. Bop to the Top might not be the most challenging number vocally, but their intense choreography had made the performance difficult to ace, and they'd been absolutely perfect.
But Ricky and EJ had been amazing, too, and there was an undeniable chemistry there that she and Carlos didn't have.
Not getting cast sucks, but she gets it.
That understanding is what led her to the gym just now. By sheer luck, she spots EJ almost as soon as she walks in, standing slightly to the side. He’s still wearing his audition clothes. She’d changed out of her frilly blue dress and into some simpler clothes as soon as possible, but she guesses his didn't itch with the disappointment of being a mere understudy.
Still, she is an actress, for crying out loud. If there’s one thing she can do, it’s accept her defeat gracefully, even if it stings.
“Caswell,” she greets him. It visibly startles him. He turns around to face her, a wary expression on her face.
“I guess I’m your understudy, now,” she says. “You know, in case you can't make it to a show or something. Congrats, I guess.”
“I’m sorry you didn't get the part,” he offers in return. “I heard your callback was fantastic. I know your audition was.”
Gina looks at him for a long moment. She knows she’s probably being a little overdramatic, but she can't help but suddenly feel exhausted, like all of her little games matter so little. She didn't get the part, didn't get the guy. Hell, she's not sure she ever wanted the guy to begin with.
She wanted the part, though. She really, really wanted the part. But it’s not hers now and there’s absolutely nothing she can do about it - nothing legal, at least, and that’s a line even she will never cross.
EJ got the part. He beat her fair and square, without resorting to any trickery the way she had. And even now, even after she'd tried her hardest to sabotage him, he’s still complimenting her.
Something inside of her caves.
She sticks out her hand.
“How about a truce?” She asks, trying hard to keep the hopefulness out of her voice. She’s not sure it's successful.
EJ grins and grips her hand, shaking it. “I’d like that. And I’m sorry too, by the way, for the fry thing.”
Gina shrugs. “Eh, it's not your fault nobody warned you to mind your steps around the water polo lunch table. Besides, dry cleaning fixed those clothes right up.”
“Still, lesson learned.” EJ stuffs his hands back into his pockets. Gina almost turns away from him then, but she decides on one last peace offering. The saying is go big or go home, after all, and she’d never been one to retreat.
“I’ve got some more lessons, if you want. Theatre is kind of my thing, I could show you the ropes.”
“Yeah, that'd be really great,” EJ smiles at her again. She can't help but smile back.
“I really don't know what I’m doing,” he admits.
“We’ll start on Monday - I won’t be at your rehearsal tomorrow, it's cast only. Break a leg, though.”
EJ’s expression turns horrified instantly. She laughs and nudges his shoulder.
“That’s what we say in theatre when we’re wishing someone good luck.”
They laugh together, then, and Gina turns away with a genuine, unforced smile still on her face.
For once, she doesn't tuck it away.
Carlos smiles as he sees Gina walk away from EJ. She doesn't notice him and strikes up a conversation with a random classmate, but he doesn't care. He’s so proud of her for stepping up and accepting their defeat without throwing a fit. This feels much more true to who she is, rather than who she wants everyone to think she is.
EJ seems really surprised by her behaviour just now. Gina had explained everything that went down between her and EJ before they entered the gym, so Carlos can see why he’s shocked, but he hopes EJ is willing to move past everything. He seems like he could be a good influence on Gina and since she’ll be his understudy, they’ll be spending plenty of time together these next few months.
He is a little ashamed of how surprised he was by the events of today. He really should’ve known better, should’ve realised that Ricky and EJ wouldn't give in so easily. He has to admit, though, that he’s beyond impressed both by the stunts they pulled to make it to the callback and by their actual performance.
Yes, it stings not to be cast as lead, especially because neither he nor Gina had auditioned for any other characters. They’re the understudies for Arnold and Minnie now, but that’s not nearly the same. Carlos can’t deny that he’s still a little ticked off that Ricky and EJ never formally auditioned in the first place, but he supposes it’s time to move past that - especially given the sabotaging he was involved with recently. He feels pretty bad about that and has already resolved to be the best understudy possible for Ricky to make up for it.
If anything, Ricky could certainly use some help with his dancing. That just so happened to be what Carlos excelled in.
Carlos understands why Miss Jenn cast Ricky and EJ over him and Gina, though. Their audition was phenomenal, especially considering the fact that neither of them had any previous theatre experience. They sounded fantastic together and there was some pretty clear chemistry there, which would help them connect to their characters. Honestly, Carlos knew the callback outcome halfway through their performance.
“Hey,” a voice suddenly says from behind Carlos, startling him out of his thoughts, “I love your outfit.”
Carlos turns around and comes face to face with Seb from the basketball team. The two of them only vaguely know each other, but they have crossed paths before. Every time they do, they flirt a bit. Carlos would be lying if he said he hadn't hoped he’d run into Seb here.
“Thanks,” he says, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black pants as he steps closer to Seb. He loves this particular outfit too: the white shirt had taken ages to properly bedazzle and he hadn't trusted anyone else to handle it , but he thinks it turned out well, The blue swirls shimmer and match Gina’s callback dress perfectly, though the effect had been diminished when she changed out of it.
“Congrats on your win,” he adds, taking in Seb’s basketball jersey and flushed cheeks. Seb laughs, though,and shakes his head.
“Oh, I’m not actually on the team, I’m just the student manager. The shirt is just in solidarity.”
Carlos frowns.
“Please don't take this the wrong way, but what exactly does a student manager do? I mean, you’re not the coach, right?”
“Nah, I just remind everyone of practice times and take notes and stuff. Mostly, I just stand around and look pretty while the guys get sweaty.”
“You must be really good at that,” Carlos says without thinking about it. As soon as he realises what he just said, however, he slaps his hand over his mouth, horrified at how that could be interpreted.
“Because you’re pretty!” He clarifies, feeling his skin grow hot. Thankfully, Seb doesn’t seem to have taken it as an insult at all. He just smiles, biting his lip, and blushes.
“Do you wanna dance?” He asks, extending one hand towards Carlos. “I’ve heard you’re pretty good at that.”
Carlos grins. He takes Seb’s hand gratefully and hopes his is not too gross and sweaty. Seb doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. though, just squeezes it.
“Lead the way, Wildcat,” Carlos says, and he lets Seb tug him into the dancing crowd.
If he needed one more reason to make things right with Ricky, maybe even become friends, it’d be the fact that Seb and Ricky are friends, he thinks as they walk past Ricky and Seb waves at him.
Carlos was going to be the best understudy East High had ever seen.
“So,” EJ says when Ricky is within earshot again, “did you know that theatre people think that breaking bones is good luck?”
Judging by the horrified expression on Ricky’s face, he did not know that. Honestly, EJ isn't entirely sure it's true himself. Maybe it was just a Gina-thing.
“Is that what you and Gina talked about?” Ricky asks. “Because if so, I’d start being extra careful around her. You never know when she might accidentally trip you.”
“Actually, she came to make a truce.” EJ was a little confused by that, but he’s really grateful for it. These past two weeks have contained more than enough drama for his liking. He’s looking forward to a calm, uneventful rest of the year.
Then again, he did just score the lead in a musical and his Scholastic Decathlon team is moving to the next round. The next months probably aren't going to be as quiet as he wants them to be.
He looks at Ricky. He’s still wearing his red jersey, still has his curls plastered to his face with sweat. He looks really happy, though.
“You know,” EJ says slowly, hoping he hasn't misinterpreted any of Ricky’s signals, “Twinkle Towne has a lot of dialogue. Maybe we should meet up sometime to go over it. Maybe grab some coffee together?”
“Wait, they gave you the script? Do you know what it’s about?” Ricky suddenly has both his hands on EJ's shoulders and is staring intently into EJ’s eyes. It does funny things to EJ’s heart. “Please, EJ, I’m begging you. I have to know what the camel is for.”
EJ laughs. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that one’s just leftover from a previous musical. I didn't find anything about camels in the script.”
“Oh.” Ricky sounds a bit disappointed by that. His hands slide off of Ej, but he doesn't move away. EJ catches one of Ricky’s hands as it slides past his wrist.
“Coffee?” He prompts again.
Ricky smiles, looking up at EJ through his eyelashes.
“I’d like that, yes. It's a date.”
EJ squeezes Ricky’s hand, the butterflies in his stomach fluttering around.
“It sure is,” he agrees.
The two of them turn to the side, then, their shoulders leaning against each other’s. They fall silent, but it's not awkward at all.
EJ still hasn't told his dad about the musical. He’s still scared of what rehearsal will be like, if performing on stage will make him freeze again like it had today. He’s already wondering how he can make both the Decathlon and the musical fit into his schedule, is worrying about what will happen if he suddenly has to move away again. But then he feels Ricky's palm pressed against his, feels their shoulders knocking together, and he can't focus on any of those uncertain parts. They'll figure it all out eventually, he thinks.
They're in this together, after all.