High School Musical - I Feel Bad About You Feeling Bad: Chapter One

"Christ!" Chad muttered under his breath, as Coach Heilman gave orders to run five laps around the track before practice was over. The other members of East High's varsity baseball team were making similar complaints. Chad elbowed Jason in the ribs and whispered to him, "She's going to kill us..."

Coach Heilman shot Chad a very dirty look, clearly having heard this. "Danforth," she announced to the entire team, "Doesn't seem to be satisfied with five laps around the track. Make it six." A collective groan rang out from the already tired and sweat-soaked players.

"See me when you're finished, Danforth," she said as she headed towards the field house, "I'll be in my office."

As she left, the boys began to drag themselves in the direction of the track, some taking off running--obviously ready to get home. "Man, Seig Heil sure is being tough on us this year," announced Jason, and bounded off as he received nods of agreement from all around him. Chad felt somewhat apprehensive about having to see Coach Heilman after practice, though... He shouldn't have been; she pulled him aside quite often asking him to run a few random errands around the school. As he took off around the track, he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on the run ahead of him.

By the time he was finished, his stomach was rumbling violently and he felt as though he could sleep through a nuclear attack. He made his way to the field house as the other boys collected their things and went for the parking lot. Zeke gave him a supportive smile and a thumbs up as they passed one another, "Good practice, Chad." Chad grinned and tilted his head cockily in response; although Chad was tired, Zeke was captain this year and Chad felt obliged to impress his friend-turned-leader into making him co-captain.

Chad patted a few more shoulders and nodded casually at a few more teammates on his way to the field house, a small building between the track and baseball diamond that housed coaches' offices, locker rooms, and weight rooms. He popped into the locker room for a second to take off his sweat soaked t-shirt and switch it out for an old, wrinkled (but relatively clean smelling) wifebeater that was stuffed in the back of his locker. He heaved a deep sigh as he pulled it over his shoulders and winced as it instantly clung to his back. He needed a shower, but it could wait until he saw Coach Heilman. She probably only needed him to run some meaningless errand... when he'd told her at the first practice he'd work to become a co-captain she obviously took that statement to heart, and now Chad had become her go-to boy for delivering memos, fetching the first aid supplies, taking inventory... He shook his head as he left the locker room and crossed the narrow hallway to Coach Heilman's office. The door was open, so he walked right in.

"Coach Heilman? You needed me?" he asked. The coach looked up from some form she was filling out. She was an older woman, with greying hair and blue eyes that were often afire with rage when on the baseball field. In her office, though, she seemed a little more down to earth.

"I just need you to get a box of old equipment over to Mrs. Darbus before you leave," she said nonchalantly, having returned her attention to the paper she was writing on. "It's in the corner over there." She gestured broadly to a large box of old bats and gloves sitting next to a garbage can.

"Mrs. Darbus? What does she need those for?" Chad asked, surprised and almost scandalized. Coach Heilman gave Chad a sharp look. "That attitude, Danforth," she quipped, "is why you're not co-captain. For your information, the drama club needs them for props in a play they're doing later this year."

"Oh," was all Chad managed to say, shocked by the outburst. He picked up the box, which was surprisingly heavy, considering it only had a few metal bats and a handful of old gloves. But peering into it, he also noticed some old textbooks that he guessed had been left lying around the locker rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow, Danforth," Coach Heilman said as Chad manuevered out of the narrow doorway. He nodded in affirmation and left her office, taking smaller steps than usual due to the load in his arms. He kicked open the main door to the field house to get out, and sat the box down on the ground momentarily to readjust some bats that looked like they were on the verge of falling out. Satisfied, he heaved the box up into his arms and began the across-campus trek to the auditorium.

Long before he reached his destination, he heard faint music coming from the theater and hoped he wouldn't be interrupting a rehearsal, lest he incur the wrath of Darbus.
 
He entered from the back of the auditorium, and wasn't suprised to see Sharpay and Ryan onstage, singing powerfully while dancing around the numerous half-finished set pieces that littered the proscenium.

The duo was so absorbed in their routine that neither of them noticed Chad plop down on the third row and set the box down next to him. Chad had really grown to appreciate the effort Sharpay and Ryan put into the theatre, especially since Ryan had taught him to dance over the summer. After that, Chad began to come to shows for more than just Troy and Gabriella. Though he'd never admit this, he really liked watching Ryan and Sharpay dance. Ryan's flamboyant grace was the perfect complement to Sharpay's provocative arrogance, and vice versa.

Since that summer, Chad and Ryan had become casual acquaintances, occasionally hanging out together with mutual friends like Martha and Kelsi. Although Chad had really expected them to become closer than that--perhaps even very good friends, just judging by how well they got along over the summer--life had other ideas. While Ryan was in the theatre year round, Chad had to balance baseball and basketball, which took up all of his school year.

Sharpay, though... was a different story. She spent a lot of time with Zeke, and therefore--indirectly--with Chad. Their relationship had improved dramatically... Chad could tolerate her for minutes on end before he snapped now, instead of seconds.

On the stage, Ryan and Sharpay finished up their high-energy routine with a powerful, harmonious, sustained note that filled the auditorium as Sharpay did one final twirl towards Ryan and struck a pose as he lifted her into the air by her waist. The song ended abruptly, but Sharpay and Ryan held the pose for a few seconds of silence.

Chad gave the performers a standing ovation, of course, and Sharpay's head immediately snapped in his direction as she gracefully leapt from Ryan's hold, "This is a closed rehearsal, baseball boy." From behind her, Ryan waved pleasantly and said, "Hey Chad. What brings you here?"

Chad decided to follow Ryan's lead and ignore Sharpay for the time being. He lifted the box of old equipment and books and carried it down to the stage, "Delivery for Mrs. Darbus from Coach Heilman. Is she here?"

"Backstage," Ryan supplied helpfully, "You can go on back." Chad lifted the box and climbed the three steps up to the stage. "Watch your step," Sharpay fussed, "I wouldn't want any of our set to be ruined because some lunkhead trampled all over it." Chad rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth, determined to ignore Sharpay's whining--which Ryan seemed to be very good at doing. "So," he asked Ryan as he maneuvered his way around a few freshly painted benches. "What's the song for?"

"The New Mexico Musical Talent Convention, in a month," Ryan said, a gleam of excitement lighting his eyes, "This is the first year we've qualified."

"Awesome," said Chad, fighting the urge to snicker at such a ridiculous sounding name as the New Mexico Musical Talent Convention. He had stopped paying attention to where he was walking, though, and caught his foot on the bottom of a tall, ridiculously gargantuan bookshelf. "CHAD!" he heard Sharpay shriek, and heard the click-clacking of her heels as she came running to the scene. Everything seemed to go in slow motion, then... he dropped the box and braced his arms to try and catch the falling shelf, but in the next moment something rammed into him from the side and shoved him to the ground. The something fell to the ground as well, but was well in front of Chad and had to scramble to get away from the falling tower of mahogany.

When he realized that the something was actually Ryan Evans, everything seemed to speed back up to normal once more, and the bookshelf landed with a resounding 'BOOM' and a sickening 'CCCCCRACK'--

--right on Ryan's ankle.

"Ryan!" Chad and Sharpay yelled desperately, at the same time. The blond howled in pain, eyes screwed shut tightly. Sharpay rushed to her brother, kneeling beside him and shrieking, "MRS. DARBUS! MRS. DARBUS!" Having recovered from the initial shock, Chad leapt to his feet and quickly ran to the bookshelf to lift it from Ryan's obviously injured foot.

He couldn't; it was too heavy, wouldn't budge. Mrs. Darbus burst out from the behind the back curtains. "What is all the commotion?" she demanded, before she caught sight of Ryan moaning in pain, his foot trapped beneath the bookshelf. "CHAD, SHARPAY! Back away from him!" she roared, whipping out her cell phone from beneath the many folds of her clothes.

Despite the severity of the situation, Chad couldn't help but notice the irony in the fact that Mrs. Darbus actually had a cell phone. He backed off a respectable distance, still itching to try and get that shelf off of Ryan's foot. Ryan looked so... helpless, so weak. His eyes hadn't opened yet and his mouth was mumbling an almost steady stream of unintelligible pleas. Sharpay hadn't yet pulled herself away from him--though she did sober herself somewhat, and took to stroking his hair comfortingly instead of shrieking madly as she had been only a few seconds earlier.

When the ERT arrived, it took two paramedics, Chad, and Mrs. Darbus to lift the bookshelf from Ryan's ankle. It was a red, nearly unrecognizable mass, swollen to about the size of a baseball. His foot jutted out at an impossible angle that made Chad cringe. One of the paramedics slipped off his shoe–to Ryan’s obvious disapproval–and revealed that the entire foot was beginning to swell, looking a bit like it was being strangled.

It hurt Ryan to move him, but was necessary. He had to be lifted on to a stretcher and carried off the stage and down to the front of the auditorium, where the emergency vehicle was waiting right outside the doors, lights flashing. Sharpay followed the paramedics closely, making sure that they didn’t cause Ryan any more pain than necessary, and then demanded entrance on to the ambulance. Grudgingly, the paramedics allowed her.

The last thing Chad saw before the doors slammed shut and the ambulance sped away was Sharpay pulling her cell phone out of her purse–probably to call their parents.

Mrs. Darbus approached Chad and placed a hand on his shoulder, both of them watching the ambulance until it turned a corner and was no longer visible. She gave his shoulder a squeeze and said, “Why don’t you go on home, then, Chad. I can take care of things here.” It was more of a declaration than a question.

Wordlessly, Chad turned away from her and began to walk towards the student parking lot. That’s when an overwhelmingly powerful sensation hit him that hadn’t had time to register before, not amidst all the chaos...

Guilt.

It hit him like a brick wall, almost powerful enough to make his knees buckle. His stomach was churning turbulently, and he felt as though he’d be perfectly content never eating again. He climbed into his car and started it, and the bass-heavy hip-hop that automatically began pounding out of the speakers–the good stuff–was too much for him to handle. He turned the radio off as he sped out of the school parking lot, suddenly anxious to sit in his room and do... nothing.

On the way, he gave Taylor a call. “Hello?” asked the voice on the other side. “Hey babe,” Chad said wearily, “Listen, I’m not going to be able to make it to dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” she said, but didn’t ask why. She was always uncomfortable with things like that; she never wanted to seem too clingy. “That’s okay,” she said, “We can reschedule.” Chad could hear the worry in her voice.

“Just...,” Chad felt obliged to give her some sort of excuse, so he did, “Some shit went down today and I’m really tired. See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, seemingly satisfied, but still with a concerned edge to her voice. Chad heard the dull click of the other line dying, and then shut his phone and returned it to his pocket.

The driveway leading up to his house was a welcome sight. As soon as he entered the house, his said hi to his mom, turned down the fettuccini alfredo she’d prepared for dinner, and went to bed. He tossed restlessly for what seemed like hours though, one thing Ryan had said replaying over and over again in his mind.

"The New Mexico Musical Talent Convention, in a month," Ryan said, a gleam of excitement lighting his eyes, "This is the first year we've qualified."

Chad broke his ankle once, when he was eleven. He had accidently jumped off of a trampoline and his full weight crashed down on the one foot that hit the ground.

It had taken him seven weeks to recover, and for two weeks after that he couldn’t play any sports. It had been torture, and now–unfortunately–Ryan would have to go through the same thing.

There was no way Ryan was dancing in that competition, and it was only a matter of time before he... and Sharpay realized it.

Chad vowed to give him a call the next day, and finally fell into a restless sleep.