High School Musical (Harry x Taylor Lautner)

Falling

The next day, Kristen sat down at the piano, playing with passion and energy. No one was in the room. Just Kristen and her music. Exactly the way she liked it.

Taylor sat at a stairwell, practicing his audition song. He kind of liked the way his voice echoed.

At that moment, Zayn rounded and slowed down to listen. He could have sworn he heard someone singing . . .

Meanwhile, Harry had found his own private spot with great acoustics: the boys' bathroom. She stood in front of the mirror and sung.

Miley was heading for class when she thought she heard the faint sound of singing. She turned her head to spot where it was coming from . . . there! She opened the bathroom door and went in, looking everywhere for the source of the music.

She found . . . nothing.

I've been rehearsing too much, Miley thought as she left the bathroom. I'm starting to hear that music everywhere I go!

Harry stepped out of the hiding place he had quickly found for himself and smiled.

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Later that day, in the school's rehearsal room, Kristen played the piano for Harry and helped him with his phrasing.

Then it was Taylor's turn. He worked as hard as he could, but singing was harder than he thought. Just when he was getting frustrated beyond belief, Kristen would step to encourage him.

Just like basketball, he thought. You've got to keep practicing.

And he started to sing again.
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The other basketball players were in the gym, warming up for practice. Coach Lautner kept checking his watch. Where was Taylor? He frowned. Something was going on with that boy. Something weird. Something different. And it was getting in the way of his championship dream.

Daniel didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.

He would have liked it even less if he had known where Taylor was.

In detention. Again.

The only bright side was that Harry was there, too. They stole glances at each other as they painted scenery. Each one was smiling a secret smile. Each one was hearing the audition song in their heads.

Finally, detention was over. Taylor raced into the gym—only to find that practice was over, too.

The players headed toward the locker room. Hoping to recover a bit from his absence. Taylor said to his father. "I'm going to stay awhile, work on some free throws."

Coach Lautner nodded coldly in agreement. "Since you were late for practice . . . again . . . I think your teammates deserve a little extra effort from you."

He gave Taylor a hard look, then headed for his office.

Taylor sighed. He started shooting hoops, sinking one after the other.

Then Harry poked his head around the door. Taylor smiled in welcome and waved him in.

Harry entered cautiously, looking around with curiosity. "Wow, so this is your real stage."

"I guess you can call it that," Taylor said. "Or just a smelly gym."

He bounced the ball over to him. Harry grabbed it and took a shot. It went in, and Taylor turned to him, surprised.

"Whoa . . . don't tell me you're good at hoops, too?"

"I once scored forty-one points in a league championship game," he said, straight-faced.