come home to my heart

vii. Sweet Nothing

"So now that we've watched all of them which one is your favorite?"

Gina sits on her soft blue comforter waiting for his answer. The winter air was brash and bountiful, little specs of snow floated in the air beyond her window. She snuggles further into her blanket, raising it to her upper arms as she holds her phone to her ear.

"It has to be the last one." Ricky answers, running a stray hand through his curls. The end credits of the High School Musical 3 movie played on his laptop. He moved his leg after feeling a familiar static sensation on his left, an onset of his foot falling asleep. The pair had decided to watch the movie after he let it slip in rehearsal he hadn't watched the second and third movies entirely. After a few dramatic (earned) gasps from theater kids around them who had overheard and being subject of Gina's incredulous stare he cracked and said he'd watch it.

A few pesky messages from his mom, Jaz, and Jet came telling him to invite her over to watch, he finally suggested after rehearsals one day they should watch the movies together.

Gina smiles in approval, "I knew I could trust you."

Ricky sits up on his bedpost as he tilts his head in thought, "Although two has some pretty good songs and it happened in the summer, I mean who doesn't love summer?" the curly-haired skater can feel her distaste through the phone, it encourages his lip to quirk upwards at the thought. Though he can't see her he can already tell her nose is scrunched and her eyes are currently narrowed in doubt.

"Ricky be serious. The production value of three is unmatched, Troy and Gabriella's chemistry was at an all-time high, and the performances were insane." She finishes her tirade confidently and smoothes over the creases of her comforter. A light fond feeling roars within him at her tone, "That's true." Ricky breathes out the words, "Remind me why I couldn't come over to watch these with you in real time?"

The curly-haired ballerina kinda freezes at his words.  She's not great at improv, she does much better with well-made plans (or make-as-you-go half-baked ones in times of duress). She does scripts and strong direction. Nothing about Ricky and her has ever felt like it was a part of her plan and the thought is as overwhelming as it is thrilling.

"Well-" Gina pauses, "I don't know if is trying to keep up with cheer, putting in time at the dance studio, and rehearsals but I feel a little under the weather and I don't want to risk getting you sick so close to the show." She gets the sudden urge to get up from her comfortable position in bed and pace on her pastel pink carpet.

It's not exactly a lie. All of her extracurricular activities were taking a bit of a toll on her physically and she kind of couldn't wait for the semester to come to a close as it soon would when opening weekend came. But if she were being honest with herself the main reason why she wasn't sure she should invite Ricky over to watch the movie was because she couldn't stop thinking about their kiss at Natalie's party.  She couldn't forget the way his thumb brushed over her chin and passed over her lip, about how perfectly their lips slotted together, or the electric current that passed over her body as if transferred from his.

Gina awkwardly coughs and tugs a stray curl from her ponytail while she walks around her bed, she tries to shake the memory away.

They were friends again. Sometimes it felt like they were friends in the way they were friends during her first semester at East High. With all the dancing around each other, texting each other six heart emojis and casually flirting every day. But that seemed like dangerous territory to enter with the show on the line. Gina had begun to have some serious thoughts on whether the timing would ever be right for them.

"Right." Ricky replies. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. For some reason, he's not sure he believes her. They were joking around in rehearsals nearly every day now but lately, it seemed like she'd been trying to keep him at some sort of distance. A surge of anxiety washes over him when he thinks of the way she would laugh at his dumb jokes at rehearsal and then pointedly look away or take a step away from him. The feeling manifests in his actions as he gets up from his bed and starts pacing by his window. "Are you feeling better now though? Because I can stop by Target or something tomorrow and get you some stuff, like if you-" He clumsily offers.