merelyn | Fic: Breaking Free (SGA/HSM fusion)

Hey, I wrote fic! Or committed fic, more accurately.

Basically, Pru wanted SGA/High School Musical fic to cheer her up. And as a huge fan of both, how could I say no? I posted this in her blog, reposting it here for safekeeping:

The first thing I've written in years, and it's, er, a SGA/High School Musical fusion thing. And it's just a snippet. No promises on finishing/continuing it.

Title: Breaking Free (and let me tell you how excited I am to unironically title a fic that)
Author:

merelyn
Rating: Right now, G
Summary: “What exactly is your plan here, Genius? Start dressing like a hipster and bag a cheerleader?”
Notes: Thanks to

moonblade85 for looking over this. And for kicking my ass to make me write more.

This is the part where Rodney is Gabriella:

Rodney jerked his shoulders back in the mirror, and critically examined his reflection. The t-shirt was good- ironic and obscure, but not too ironic and obscure. The jeans were cutting off his circulation in a way that made Rodney seriously concerned about his ability to father children, but the girl at Urban Outfitters had assured him that they were ‘hot’ or whatever.

“What are you wearing?” Jeannie shrieked from his doorway. Her mouth was hanging half-open like she wasn’t sure whether to be completely horrified or if Christmas had come early.

Rodney jerked around and threw his hairbrush at her. “Shut up, Jeannie.” He did not, did not turn red. “It’s just some new clothes. For the first day of school, an all that.” Rodney shrugged into the mirror. He was casual. He was cool. Jeannie was laughing her ass off at him.

“I know when you move to a new place you’re allowed to reinvent yourself, but don’t you think that’s taking it a little too far?” At least she was smiling, Rodney thought absently. Their mother had gotten a teaching position at CalTech, and Jeannie had been bitter all summer about having to leave her friends in Toronto. (Rodney hadn’t cared. He’d hated Toronto.)

He moved over to his bed and started lacing up a pair of chucks. “I’m not going to be the ‘freaky genius boy’ again. You want to know why?”

Jeannie put her hands on her hips. “’Freaky genius boys don’t get laid?”

“No! Well, yes, actually. I-”

“Ew! I don’t want to know!” She backed out of Rodney’s room.

Thank god. If there was one potential flaw in Rodney’s plan (which he was privately calling Operation: Virgin No More!, but only until he came up with something cooler), it was Jeannie. She knew all about his Academic Decathlon trophies and his two year reign as President of the Physics Club at their old school. She was just horrible enough to blow Rodney’s cover if he wasn’t careful. He might have to be nice to her. Or bribe her. Or something.

Jeannie’s head popped back into Rodney’s room. “Oh! Dad says you have to give me a ride.”

“What?” Rodney squawked. “No! How am I supposed to convince everyone that I’m cool with you hanging around?”

“Yeah, that’s what your problem is,” she said.

After getting in a slap fight over the radio (“Do you even know what Death Cab For Cutie is, Rodney?” “Um. A goth clothing line?” “Oh my god, you’re so screwed!”), a fight which resulted in Rodney almost crashing into a tree, they pulled into the parking lot of East High School.

Jeannie got out of the car and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “What exactly is your plan here, Genius? Start dressing like a hipster and bag a cheerleader?”

“No.” Rodney scoffed. “I’m realistic. I’m going for the drama kids.”

Jeannie looked at him.

Rodney tugged at his jacket and stalked (coolly) across the parking lot. “What? I have it on good authority that they’re all drugged out and horny. I’ve done research.”

And he had. Rodney had no athletic ability, so joining a sports team was out. Skateboards were an incredible waste of time. They’d moved too late for him to go to the marching band summer workshop- a shame, since the band kids had the highest hook up ratio per capita of any other group. That left the drama kids. Not too lame, not too cool, Rodney could play the piano and he’d seen The Sound of Music on TV a bunch of times. It was perfect.

Jeannie and Rodney headed through the main doors to be greeted by a giant mural of a Wildcat and an unrealistically muscled man slam-dunking a basketball. Blech. Rodney headed off in search of his first class, while Jeannie trailed behind him like an annoying terrier. “Are you going to audition for the musical? Because I’ve heard you sing in the shower. There’s no reason to inflict that on others. Also, I don’t think there’s enough pot in the world to make a girl- or boy- want to sleep with you.”

“Hey, who said I was gay?” Rodney snapped, perhaps a little too loudly, judging by the snickers from a group of guys by the stairwell. He rounded on Jeannie. “So there was that one time over New Year’s, but there was karaoke, it was my first experience with alcohol, and you swore you’d never mention it again,” Rodney hissed.

Jeannie smirked and disappeared into the crowded hallway. She was right. He was so screwed.