High School Musical [H.S.]

Catch Fire & Right Now

At three o'clock, the halls of East High were empty. There was a sense of anticipation.

—and then the bell rang!

Doors burst open and students rushed into the halls. The school was buzzing with excitement!

In the gym, the stands were full of spectators, cheering and clapping. The school band was playing, the cheerleaders were dancing up a storm, banners were waving in the air . . . It was time to decide who were the champions, once and for all!

In the locker room, Harry was alone on a bench. The rest of the team had run into the court. He could hear the crowd being whipped into a frenzy.

All those hours of practice, all the training . . . it all came down to this night.

His dad came into the room. "How're you feeling?"

"Nervous," Harry had to be honest.

"Me, too." His dad smiled. "Wish I could suit up and play alongside you today."

Harry grinned slightly. "Hey, you had your turn."

His father looked at him seriously. "Do you know what I want from you toddy?"

Harry nodded. His dad didn't have to tell him. "A championship."

His dad looked at Harry straight in the eye. "That'll happen or it won't." He said gently.

"What I want is for you to have fun. I know about the pressure, and probably too much of it has come from me. All I really want is to watch my son having the time of his life, playing the game we both love. You give me that, and I'll sleep with a smile on my face, no matter how the score comes out."

Harry looked at his father. A strange feeling of relief spread through him. "Thanks coa—" he corrected himself. "—Dad."

His father smiled at him and walked away.
————
Blackboards have been set up on each side of the choir room–the first round of the Scholastic Decathlon was about to begin. The walls were lined with tables where constants could conduct experiments. A few dozen chairs had been set out for judges and spectators.

As the clock ticked down, each team gathered for a final briefing.

In the theater, Calum played random tunes on that piano as a few spectators wandered into the large auditorium. Ben and Luke did bizarre actor-prep exercises backstage, opening their mouths wide, uttering weird vocalizations, and falling back into each other's arms in demonstrate their absolute trust in each other.

In the choir room, the decathlon room, all wearing lab coats, faced off for the opening bell.

Becca stood at a blackboard, poised to begin. The moderator signaled "go," and she and the star of the competing team began scribbling bling formulas as fast as they could.

In the theater, Mr. Clifford was making yet another speech. "Casting the leads of a show is both a challenge and a responsibility, a joy and a burden," he said. "I command you, and all young artists who hold out for the moon, the sun, and the stars—"

The five kids sitting in the auditorium just stared at him. They didn't have a clue about what he meant.

Mr. Clifford sighed, and tried to end on a grand note. "So . . . shall we soar together?" He checked his clipboard and for form's sake, and called out. "Luke and Ben!"

The brother-and-brother team made a grand entrance so their recorded music started. From the first note, it was clear that this was a two-person musical, with light cues and choreography and moves that would put most Broadway dancers to shame.