High School Musical [H.S.]

The guy from kindergarten

Back in the cafeteria, Becca and Ariana were still trying to recover from the chaos that had happened.

"Is Luke really, really mad?" Becca asked. "I said I was sorry."

"No one has beaten out Luke for a musical since kindergarten," Ariana explained.

"I'm not trying to beat anyone out," Becca protested. "We weren't even auditioning. We were just . . . singing."

Ariana shook her head. "You won't convince Luke of that," she warned. "If that boy could figure out how to play both Romeo and Juliet, his own brother would be aced out of a job."

"I told you, it just . . . happened." Then she admitted the real truth. "But . . . I liked it. A lot." She laughed then asked Ariana the question she had been wondering about since New Year's Eve. "Do you ever feel like there's this whole other person inside of you, just looking for a way to come out?"

Ariana gave her a sharp look. "No," she said, decisively.

The bell rang to sing Mal the end of lunch period. Luke stalled out of the cafeteria, but not before leveling a death-ray glance at Becca.

Then Niall stepped up to stop Luke. He was frizzing with happiness, now that his secret love of baking was out in the open.

"Hey, Luke," he said. "Now that Harry's going to be in your show . . ."

"Harry Payne is not in my show!" He snapped.

Niall pushed on, undeterred. "I thought maybe you'd like to come see me play ball some time . . ."

Luke tossed his head and said grandly. "I'd rather stick pins in my eyes."

He frowned at him, puzzled. "Wouldn't that be awfully uncomfortable?"

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Evaporate tall person!" He said as he stormed off.

Crestfallen, Niall called after him. "I bake . . . if that helps."
———————
The next day, Becca opened her locker and found a note. She read it quickly, then looked at a yellow door at the end of the hall. She was a little confused–and very intrigued.

She opened the door and found a staircase that led up to the roof. As she opened the door and stepped out into the beautiful, sunny day, rounded by lash plants, all being grown as hydroelectric experiments.

"So this is your private hangout?" She asked, smiling.

"Thanks to the Science Club," Harry said. "Which means my buddies don't even know about it."

Becca wondered about that. His teammates didn't seem to be his only buddies.

"Looks like everyone wants to be your friend," she pointed out.

"Unless we lose." He seemed a little down about that, she thought. The pressure must be intense, especially since . . .

"I'm sure it's tricky being the coach's son," she said.

Harry shrugged. "It makes me practice a little harder, I guess. I don't know what he'll say when he hears about the singing thing."

"You worried?" She was surprised. Harry seemed so cool, so confident. Not the type to worry. Ever.

But Harry nodded. "My parents' friends are always saying, 'Your son is the basketball guy, you must be so proud.' Sometimes I don't want to be the basketball guy. I just want to be . . . a guy."

Becca smiled with understatement. She didn't want to be a genius girl. They were both so much more than that.

"I saw how your treated Calum at the auditions yesterday," she said softly. "Do your friends know that guy?"

Harry shook his head. "To them, I'm the playmaker dude."

"Then they don't know enough about you, Harry." Becca paused, then decided it was the time to share a confession of her own. "At my other schools I was the freaky math girl. It's cool coming here and being . . . anyone I want to be. When I was singing with you, I just felt like . . . a girl."

"You even look like one, too," he teased her.

Becca laughed, glad to have the seriousness of the moment lightened a bit. "Remember in kindergarten, you'd meet a kid, knowing nothing about them, then ten seconds later were best friends, because you didn't have to be anything but yourself?"

"Yeah . . ." Harry's voice was wistful.

"Singing with you felt like that," Becca said sincerely.

"I never thought about singing, that's for sure," Harry said. "Until you."

"So you really want to do that callbacks?" Becca asked.

He thought about it for a moment as he looked at her. Really looked at her. Then he smiled. "Hey, just call me freaky callback boy."

Becca smiled, a glowing smile of pure happiness. "You're a cool guy, Harry. But not for the reasons your friends think," Harry looked down, a little embarrassed, and she moved on quickly. "Thanks for showing me your top secret hiding place. Like kindergarten."

Then the bell rang, breaking the mood and making Harry realize he was late, and that meant detention!