Chapter Text
Introduction
Lists and plans were a way of life in the Evans family. Both parents were entrepreneurs, and highly organized; when they’d joined forces, first as business partners and then when they’d gotten married, they’d harnessed all of their skills and created Evans Inc, a company that was now worth over a billion dollars. And they applied that same rigor and efficiency to everything else in their lives, including raising children. For everything they did, they had lists, goals, objectives, and strategies.
So it was no wonder that in the aftermath of the staff baseball game, Ryan found himself mentally numbering the things that were on his mind.
First, that he should wear red more often. If he did say so himself, he’d looked passably hot, in a jockish way, wearing Chad’s jersey. Not that he’d had the hair for it—he’d worked the jersey, yes, but the baseball cap, not so much.
Second, he entertained some thoughts that in the upcoming year he might, for the first time in his life, not be last picked for everything in gym class. Despite the fact that he was still a pointy-kneed dancer, a bunch of the school’s jocks had seen him strut his baseball skills, and it did seem like they’d had at least a little respect for his athleticism. He was surprised by how much that mattered to him. After years of it just being him and Sharpay, he’d never even realized there were other options.
But third, and most importantly, he’d come away from the game with the absolute knowledge that Chad Danforth was attracted to boys. True, the jock was either in complete denial of that fact, or somehow hadn’t noticed it yet (but then again, Danforth was known for his jump shot, not his intelligence) but straight boys weren’t ever so eager to trade shirts with known queers. Or to let said queer put hands all over their bodies in order to learn a none-too-hetero dance routine.
No, it wasn’t even a question; Chad Danforth was gay. Maybe bi, though Ryan wasn’t honestly convinced of that. He’d seen Danforth’s attempts at flirting with Taylor, and how embarrassed everyone around was for him. And he’d seen the hurt looks Danforth had give Troy Bolton, when (from Ryan’s limited understanding—following Sharpay’s schemes got so exhausting after awhile) they’d had a best friend breakup. Danforth seemed to feel more upset at Bolton’s betrayal (such as it was) than Bolton’s own girlfriend had been. Also not generally a sign of healthy, normal heterosexuality.
Point was: Chad Danforth was gay, and he somehow made his unique hairstyle look good, and he was somehow able to wear athletic wear and look kind of hot instead of patently ridiculous.
Fourth and finally, Ryan realized Danforth was charming in a none-too-bright way, he had a great smile, and for some reason, when Danforth had given him a look of appraisal, then smiled and draped his jersey around Ryan’s shoulders…Well, Ryan wasn’t the type who swooned, so he hadn’t, but the flush in his cheeks hadn’t been entirely from the physical exertion of baseball, either.
The question became, what to do about it? He’d watched Sharpay’s whole scheme collapse around her, and was actually a little ashamed of his role in it—they were still awkward around each other, which they never had been before, and Ryan really wished things would just go back to normal. But what he’d learned from Sharpay was that out-and-out bribery combined with financial blackmail wasn’t the way to go; it just made a mess of things. He’d get nowhere with Danforth by alienating him from his friends.
Okay. Then he’d need to plan this out very carefully.
He flipped open his laptop, a gold computer with his initials etched on the top in calligraphy, and began to type up his strategy.
Phase One: Optimism
Ryan regarded himself in front of his full-length mirror. He looked, if he told himself, pretty damn chic. Ryan had spent the last several years of his life refining his personal sense of style, and had discovered it all came down to a hard-to-maintain balance. On the one hand, he had to look fabulous, absolutely the pinnacle of male fashion at all times. He had to make it clear he was queer and out, just in case anyone attractive and equally queer happened to glimpse him. He also had to broadcast wealth—not so much he’d scare off potential boys who likely weren’t as wealthy, but enough to make it clear that attempting to kick his ass would have serious consequences. Like lawsuits and financial ruin.
But the problem was that Chad Danforth…well, he probably wouldn’t go for the queer, androgynous, beautiful look. Not judging by the lingering, desperate looks he was always giving Bolton. No, obviously Danforth wanted a more masculine type, someone as jockish as he was.
He was staring dismally into his wardrobe, picking out the few passably sporty pieces he owned, when Sharpay wandered in. “Hey, Ry, I was thinking today we should hit the spa and…What’s the fashion emergency?”
He sighed. “Contemplating a new look for the upcoming year.”
She looked at what he’d picked out. “Are you going for anything in particular, or general slack-jawed member of the working class?”
“I was thinking I might try to look a little more hetero,” he admitted. “I mean, obviously I’ll need to class it up some, but…”
She considered, then declared, “What you have now will never do. If you’re going for reinvention, we’re going to need to do some major shopping.”
“You up for it?”
“Always. Though it does make a girl wonder…your sudden reinvention wouldn’t also have anything to do with a renewed interest in baseball, would it?”
“I used to be pretty good.”
“Oh, Ry, promise you aren’t going jock on me.”
“No, no, just experimenting. I’m not planning to audition for the basketball team or anything.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s what they call it in sports, Ryan.”
--
Seven hours of shopping later, he definitely made it a point to swagger by the basketball court where the Wildcats were having their nightly two-on-two match.
“Hey, where you been all day?” called Troy, looking cheerful.
Ryan stopped and gestured at himself. “Me?”
“Yeah.” Troy passed the basketball to him. “You. You weren’t around all day, Gabi said you missed your usual pool tanning session, and Javier said he saw you and Sharpay leave this morning.”
Ryan considered, then passed the ball back to Troy. “Shopping.” He indicated his outfit: new sneakers, jeans, a thick belt (without the sparkly buckle he’d wanted originally—too gay, sadly), and a red and white ringer T. He felt awkward wearing a plain T-shirt, which he hadn’t done in ages, but Sharpay had found a whole slew of Ts that fit him properly, that made him look, well…kind of manly. Definitely boyish, which was as close to jock as he was really willing to go. And, though he still wasn’t sure he could carry it off, he was wearing a purple Arizona Diamondbacks cap at a slight tilt.
“Looking good,” Troy said amiably.
“Nice hat,” Danforth added behind him.
Ryan shrugged modestly, inwardly pleased. Their shared baseball game was the reason he’d settled on that particular hat. “Thanks. Hey—there are about fifteen bags in my car and a fifty buck tip for anyone who wants to carry them in for me.”
He waited as calmly as he could. This move was a gamble—he wouldn’t have been shocked to learn that the Wildcats overall resented his family’s money. He would have, in their place. On the other hand, he was willing to risk it (and to pay) in order to do some recon work. He didn’t know Danforth well, and shaping the later phases of his plan would take a bit more knowledge.
“Hey, Troy—you take it,” Danforth suggested, slapping his friend’s shoulder. “Gas money, you know?”
“Yeah,” Troy agreed. “Hey, you’ll get your car soon.”
“End of the summer, dude.” Danforth grinned.
Troy laughed, tossed the ball to another of their friends, and jogged over to join Ryan. As they walked back towards the resort’s garage, Ryan commented, “He’s buying a car?”
“That’s his plan,” Troy agreed. “He’s been saving for a year now.”
“What’s he looking at?”
“Well, Chad’s always been into classic cars,” Troy mused. “I know he’d love to get something old—he’s really into 50s and 60s stuff.”
“Yeah?” Ryan filed that away for later use. He was pretty sure that one of his parents’ cars qualified as a classic. It might be time to start driving it to Lava Springs…
“Yeah,” Troy said. “He’s probably going to end up with an old Chevy from the 80s, though.” Troy laughed. “He’s been scoping cars all summer, that’s about all that’s in his price range.”
“That sucks,” Ryan mused.
“Yeah, but hey, a car’s a car, as long as it runs, right?”
“Right.”
So Danforth was into cars. Interesting.