Chapter Text
The last place you’d expect to find Sharpay Evans on the first day of spring break would be inside an ancient, rusting school bus where every divot and crack in the road is felt through the sticky leather seat beneath her. Behind her: the din of her peers’ raucous conversation, snacks tossed in the air like dodgeballs, and a wild pack of athletes jostling each other around and hollering. But there she sat, trying her hardest not to crease her face too deeply and call her father to pick her up immediately.
Of course she’d gotten the memo to be in front of the school at 6 a.m. sharp, and of course she woke up early enough to fix herself up, then some more, but there was no way she was going to give her peers the impression that she was eager to go on this trip. So she arrived late and earned the reaction she wanted — all eyes on her, disbelieving whispers — and landed the worst possible seat on the bus. Ryan filled the place Kelsi had been saving for him, leaving Sharpay to fend for herself.
Gabriella and Troy were predictably sitting together. When they caught sight of Sharpay ambling down the aisle, Gabriella was quick to jump up and offer her her seat. Miss Obsessed-With-Troy alighted at the opportunity — this senior trip was her last chance to get with East High’s star athlete, and at that moment she supposed it would be easier than predicted. But he briskly rose and volunteered to sit with Jason.
Gabriella just shrugged and smiled, as was her nature, and motioned for Sharpay to take a seat. Internally, Sharpay screamed and pulled every hair out of her pretty blonde head. To Gabriella, she lifted her chin and sidled up to the window.
To make matters worse, Sharpay watched as the chaperones loaded her designer luggage onto the back of a seedy pickup truck and covered them with a tarp that seemed to have emerged from the New Mexican desert itself.
“Are you okay?” Gabriella asked, sickeningly sweet as always.
Sharpay realized that a gasp must have escaped her. She whipped her head around to glare at Gabriella. “Do I seem okay?”
The girl raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Um, no. That’s kind of why I was asking.”
And she was still smiling. As if this was some kind of game they were playing.
Just looking at her smile — that perfect row of perfect white teeth, how her cheeks dipped and turned rosy when she lifted the corners of her lips — allowed Sharpay to get a close look at her, including the atrocious outfit she decided to wear today: baggy jorts, a tank top decked out in flowery patterns, and twin braids that fell way past her shoulders.
Even though Sharpay knew the combination would look exceedingly plain on anyone else, a little part of her judgment, like a whisper in the very back of her mind, thought Gabriella pulled it off decently enough.
As the bus lurched forward Sharpay turned back to the window before she was, god forbid, accused of staring.
According to one chaperone, their destination wouldn’t be too far. Three hours tops of getting jostled by this cramped yellow bus, they’d said. Sharpay fiddled with the latch of her handbag as they pulled out of the school’s loading ramp, already scheming her insidious ways of evading Gabriella to reach Troy.
Just thinking about it fired her up again; this would be smooth sailing if Gabriella weren’t involved in the equation. East High’s most promising candidate for prom king could be all hers if only it weren’t for this one unrelenting nuisance. Gabriella was the 10-foot-tall hurdle, the formidable river, the crease in all her plans for which there was no javelin tall enough, nor bridge long enough, to get past. She was—
Scowling with no restraint at this point, Sharpay glanced at the girl beside her. Her head was resting against the seat, eyes shut gently and chin upturned, with earphones plugged in. Sharpay’s eyes trailed the wire, beginning at the crescent-shaped earrings, to the flourishing clavicle, to the faint hair on her forearms, down to the neglected nail beds wrapped around a tiny mp3 player. It was an unremarkable red little thing, and Sharpay could have spent plenty of time snickering inwardly at that, but instead she imagined fixing up those slender hands, with so much potential despite their owner’s abuse (and nibbling).
She shifted in Sharpay’s peripheral.
Sharpay tried to direct her gaze to the window across the aisle, subtly. Apparently not subtle enough, because her seatmate promptly pushed against the seat to straighten herself up.
“You forgot your music?” she asked — and if Sharpay was picking up on it correctly — teasingly.
She raised her eyebrows, feigning cluelessness.
Without another word Gabriella let out a sort of chuckle and held out one of the earbuds.
“Number one rule of being on the road,” she said. “Never forget your music.”
Actually, Sharpay’s pink custom-made mp3 player was sitting in her even pinker handbag right then. Slightly bulkier for more storage, engraved with her initials, and bedazzled.
Sharpay wasn’t sure why, but she pursed her lips and raised the bud to her ear.
“The Sundays,” Gabriella explained. “My mom’s favorite. They’re based in the UK, so I guess it’s got that… foreign element.” She lifted her thumb over the forward button. “If it’s not your thing I can skip it.”
“Uhm,” Sharpay managed. “This is fine.”
Gabriella paused. Then her signature grin returned, a thousand watts brighter. “Fine.”
The girl adorned in various, meticulously-chosen shades of hot pink leaned back cautiously, wondering at the thumping sensation in her chest.
She momentarily overlooked it to listen to the woman singing in her right ear.
“Actually, oh, well there’s something I’ve found
It’s that we’re just flesh and blood
Well, now, there’s one thing I’ve found
It’s that we’re just skin and bones…"
By the time they arrived, the Wildcats were slightly dizzy and considerably starved.
As they began to file out of the bus, Troy scarfed down the last of his Doritos before crumpling the aluminum bag and throwing it aimlessly behind him. One of his teammates, unwillingly catching the litter with his face, reached down to hurl it back at him, which launched another cycle of the athletes pitching their garbage back and forth, further shrouding the floor with cheese dust.
Any doting mother would have looked upon the barbaric scene and fondly sighed, “Boys will be boys.” Gabriella, however, was not a middle-aged mother, but rather an eighteen-year-old girl who was abruptly woken by her boyfriend’s hand — with the smell of processed cheddar — gripping her shoulder and shaking her from an otherwise undisturbed nap.
She jerked away from the sudden contact and was about to swat at the hand when she caught sight of the girl she’d been napping on. Sharpay’s body was rigid, with her hands clamped tightly around one another; she leaned to the side at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable, even for Sharpay, who was the queen of poses tailored for the flash of a camera. Both earbuds lay forgotten in the space between them.
Even though the two dozen windows let in plenty of natural light from the sunny day outside, it was impossible to read Sharpay’s expression.
“Oh my gosh,” Gabriella blurted. “I am so sorry. You should’ve told me you were uncomfortable. I would have moved.”
Sharpay didn’t say anything. She just looked at Gabriella through that wide, demanding gaze.
This gave Gabriella reason to wait. And right as she thought she might finally decipher the meaning behind those restless eyes, Troy cleared his throat above her. He squeezed her shoulder once more, and Gabriella only had time to give an apologetic smile before her boyfriend whisked her away.
Sharpay’s stomach gave a strange turn for what must have been the millionth time that day, and she remained in the same place until her brother came to retrieve her.
At first she didn't say anything. She wasn’t sure she could face him. Not with this thing inside her.
“C’mon, Shar. Don’t be mad at me because Kelsi saved me a seat. You’re the one who made us late in the first place.”
Sharpay shuffled out to the aisle, shaking her head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
She pondered over the image of the top of that girl’s head, a single braid tickling her neck while Gabriella’s knuckles pressed against the side of her thigh. The scent of her shampoo was nearly tangible at that distance — some kind of coconut variety; Sharpay had never smelled anything like it before.
“It’s nothing.” Sharpay huffed. “God, just… shut up, Ryan.”
“Hey! You… Okay, forget I tried to save you from literally melting to death in this yellow torture chamber on wheels.”
“You’re right. My head is killing me,” she admitted, but those first two words were enough to get her twin brother to halt in his tracks.
“What did you say?” he asked, and Sharpay could sense the smile creeping up on his face from where she was standing. Call it twin-telepathy, or maybe her notorious obsession with defending her point against anyone who dared challenge what she claimed to be proven fact.
“Nothing.”
“No, I think you said, ‘Ryan, my dearest and favorite twin brother, you were right as always. I can’t believe I ever doubted you.’”
Without hesitation she kicked him in the back of the leg, making his knees buckle, but caught him before he fell. “You’re my only twin brother, dork. Now keep moving before I tell everyone you’re wearing my blouse.”
He grumbled as he started down the aisle, and she grinned clandestinely behind him, her former conniving self returning at last. She was beginning to worry she’d never get it back.
Then she stepped out into the desert heat, and all that progress was thrown to the wind. Or, lack thereof.
Everywhere the siblings stepped was stale and scorching, like a sauna notched up to a temperature that was sure to set off dozens of fire alarms within the general vicinity. There were no trees to speak of except for a few sparse junipers that didn’t seem to be handling the climate well either, and some cacti which couldn’t provide much shade at all, unless one of the students was willing to squeeze close enough to get pricked by the thorns.
In the distance, warped by a heat-induced mirage, a plateau rose from the desert ground, with thick bands of ochre and vermillion sprawling across its length until shrinking on the horizon. On the other side of the parked buses, the students crowded in the center of a few rows of cabins arranged in a semicircular shape. The cabins themselves seemed to be built of adobe and held together solely by vigas projecting over the shuttered windows.
Sharpay was desperate to get to her designer bags as soon as possible, but the chaperones called the students around before allowing them to go their separate ways.
The boys and girls were to be divided, the chaperones said, and boys would take the left side while girls took the right.
“No Jason, your other left. Yes, that one. Curfew is at ten p.m., so make sure to plan your activities accordingly. Meal blocks will be posted on the corkboard in each of the cabins, and in case anyone was wondering, no, there is no hot running water. Not that you’d need it in this weather anyway. Alright, that’s all. Don’t forget to choose your roommates wisely; these are the people with whom you will be expected to spend every waking moment during your time here.”
Several campers had already begun creeping in the direction of the cabins, but as soon as the chaperones wrapped up their piece, the entire procession erupted in a wild frenzy.
Kids scattering left and right, over and under, duffel bags and knapsacks slung into the air, billows of dust swelling up from beneath the beat of teenage shoes. If a colony of apache mice nearby hadn’t known any better, they would’ve run for cover at the sound of an approaching stampede.
Sharpay, crossing her arms and refusing to partake in such mayhem, turned to encounter an empty space where she expected to see Ryan. She took a moment to swear his Star Dazzle trophy would never see the light of day as long as it was in her possession, then planted her feet where she stood as she waited for the dust to settle.
She stomped over to collect her bags, trodden down in the aftermath of that looting spree. With her dignity barely intact, she waddled around the right side of the camp, peeking into each room for an empty bunk. Most girls were busy airing out their rooms, opening windows, making lists and pinning them to their corkboards, and deciding which bunk belonged to whom.
For a second Sharpay felt this nagging feeling in the base of her neck that maybe she wouldn’t be able to find anywhere to stay. Maybe there was no space for her at all. It was a stupid thought, brought forth by that same quivering voice in the deepest recesses of her mind, but she found her breaths coming in fast no matter how much she repressed it, heard the blood racing in her ears.
“Hey,” called a voice up ahead. “You should room with us.”
Sharpay glanced up, and maybe for the first time, felt slightly better to see Gabriella standing there. Her braids whipped to the side as she waved her over, and Sharpay tried to act like she was reluctant to join the cabin.
As she approached, Gabriella rushed forward in her sandals to help with some of the luggage. She nearly dropped a pink suitcase before hauling it back up, evidently not expecting it to be as heavy as it was.
“Wow, what are you carrying in here?”
“Only the necessities.”
Gabriella raised her brows with a sardonic smile.
When they reached the open door of the cabin, Taylor and Kelsi immediately dropped their conversation to give the newcomer an extensive once over.
Sharpay could have made a snarky comment then, but keeping in mind that no other cabins were willing to let her in, she decided to be nice. “Hey?”
“Hi,” Taylor said, turning back to her luggage and pulling out some clothes.
Poor Kelsi had a harder time giving Sharpay the same cold shoulder, as fidgety as she was. “Hey,” she offered in the form of a squeak, then headed straight for the bunk above Taylor’s.
Through the lens of Sharpay’s refined taste, the arrangement of the room was desolate and comparable to an underfunded military barrack. No plate glass on the windows, so the only thing standing between the girls and the brutal desert was wooden shutters and a door. Nestled on opposite sides were a pair of bunk beds, and it appeared that everybody already chose where they would be staying. Taylor and Kesli shared a bunk, and with a large knapsack on the bottom of the other, Sharpay assumed hers was the cot on top.
They set down her luggage in a corner, and after a few suffocating minutes of unpacking in silence, Gabriella opened her mouth to say what must have been on everyone’s minds.
“Look, I know we all have our differences—”
“Several,” Taylor interjected, referring to the pink elephant in the room.
“And I know we may have had our little grievances in the past.”
A small part of Sharpay winced. Even she could recognize that she might have been the cause of some of those aforementioned grievances.
“And we may not have much in common—” At Kelsi clearing her throat, Gabriella moved on. “I digress. The point is, this is the last spring break we’ll ever spend as high school students. I mean, this is it. After this trip we could likely never be together like this again. So let’s put everything aside — just for the next week — because this could be our last chance.”
From her bed, Taylor dabbed her imaginary tears with an imaginary handkerchief. “Awe, Gabs, that was beautiful. I just threw up in my mouth a little.”
Gabriella rolled her eyes as Sharpay snorted, “I second that.”
And the girls broke the tense air by bursting into laughter, kicking off their time together in the cramped cabin on a quasi hopeful note.