It Had to Be You
by dwilivia

Summary: They got married on impulse at 18. But Sharpay Evans decides she's had enough with Troy Bolton, and years later, she is given an opportunity for marriage to a wealthy and successful lawyer. Only one thing lies her way- the fact that she's still married because Troy won't sign the goddamn divorce papers.

Summer, '87
Albuquerque, New Mexico.

"Chase me! C'mon! Get me!" A scraggly, ten year old boy ran across the wet, dark sand, making faces at the blonde girl who was struggling to keep up. She stumbled occasionally as her feet got stuck into the ground, giving the blond boy an edge over her, and with his fast dodges and quick sprints combined, he had easily won that particular round of Tag.

"Please Troy, let's just rest." The girl whinned, dropping to her knees and flinging sand around in despair. Above them, the sky had darkened considerably and clouds were gathering to form a perfectly overcast night sky.

The little brown haired boy looked up at the sky, one hand resting on his hip as he made his way over to the girl's side.

"Hey," He said, softly, "You okay?"

She nodded, smiling into his gentle blue eyes. Her grin was quickly replaced with a mischevious smile that alit her face, and before Troy could react, she had pulled him down into the sand and wrestled him, pushing him below her and tickling his ribs.

Troy, not wishing to be outdone, had tugged on a blonde curl and blew a raspberry on her arm. She squealed, and he took the opportunity to flip them over so that he was above her, pinning her down, while she struggled and tried not to laugh.

"Got'cha now." He delcared, staring down at her, triumphant. His blue eyes shone out at her in the darkness of the beach, and she sat up, never removing her gaze from them.

"You've got pretty eyes, Troy." The little girl said. She reached out to touch his cheek, drawing a circle around it, before removing her hand and looking away shyly.

Troy put an arm around her shoulders and held her for a moment. It was then that a flash of lightning raced across the sky, and they both shrieked at the sudden intensity of the light that frightened them. She clasped her hands over her ears, not wishing to hear the loud growl of thunder she was sure would follow the brilliant streak of light.

But the thunder never came.

Troy stared at Sharpay Evans for a little while and circled his arm around her to further move her into his embrace. The wetness from the sand was starting to seep into their pants, and the wind howled around them blew the salt from the ocean so that it crusted onto their young faces in a thin layer that was almost too light to be seen or felt.

Troy licked his salty lips and peered down at his best friend. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was visibly slowed, and he half thought that she was asleep. He brushed the area of her pants that held patches of wet sand in an attempt to clean it off her, but he did it gently so as not to stir her awake.

A crash of sudden thunder made him jump and woke her up instantly. He gazed around up at the sky, frightened, and tightened his grip on her almost instinctively. She whimpered into his shoulder and looked out only at the corner of one eye.

A few moments later, he decided that it was safe to move, and he had gotten her to stand up and walk away from the beach with him. But as they turned to leave, a bolt of lightning surged right in front of them, striking the very place they had been only seconds ago.

Sharpay screamed, her fingers digging into Troy's arm, and he held her and patted her back, although his heart was pounding a million beats a second.

They stood still for what seemed like forever. But before long, curiousity got the better of him, and he ventured forward a little to peer into the very same spot that the lightning had hit. And there he saw a shiny, almost silvery fluid substance that was quickly hardening into a solid object. Sharpay surveyed the scene from behind him over his shoulder, watching as the thick, viscous liquid took the shape of the pit the lightning had dug due to the force of its strike.

She grinned, exclaiming, "Isn't that glass, Troy? It's glass, isn't it?"

He frowned, "Are you sure?"

She nodded excitedly, "My momma always told me this was how glass was formed, but I've never believed her until now!"

Troy looked at the transparent glass piece before him with mild interest, before steering the girl away to where they had run off from- Troy's house, where their families were currently having dinner together.

They were wet and sandy when they got back, and Ryan, Sharpay's older brother, was the first to notice their dishelved appearances. He clicked his tongue, wagging his finger and said, "Oooh! Momma's gonna kill you both."

Sharpay glared at him, "Not if you tell, you meanie."

Ryan gave them another once over. As a particularly neat boy, he'd developed a certain distaste for mess and dirt. "I'll bet you weren't up to no good with that Troy Bolton..." He whispered to Sharpay as Troy was summoned over by his mother to be reprimanded for his messy appearance.

Sharpay giggled, and her laughter reached the said blond, who turned around and smiled at her.

"I'm gonna marry Troy Bolton." She delcared to her brother, who was rolling his eyes. "You do that." He said, almost sarcastically. But Sharpay Evans didn't catch that hint of cynicism. She was, after all, only ten years old.

Spring, 2005
New York City, New York.

It had to be five in the morning, judging from the way she felt like she hadn't gotten enough sleep. She retained that thought as she rolled out of bed and stumbled uncermoniously around the large expanse of her room, almost as though she was still drunk on last night's alcohol. Five in the morning, please, she groaned to herself, let it be five. But the bright light of the sun that wafted into her room proved her to be wrong, and a quick check to her bedside clock showed the time to be five to ten, and she realised that she was, for the third time that month, late for work. She groaned and fell back into her bed, too tired to fight her conscience which was gabbling at her not to call in sick again.

Sharpay Evans decided that fate was cruel and unjust, and a force to be reckoned with. She turned in her queen sized bed, pulling the covers over her head and groaning (again) at the very thought of a Monday morning. Just last night she'd been at a social gathering with her boyfriend, Spencer, and they were toasting to her twenty eighth birthday. But right now, she felt anything like twenty eight and wished she could go back to sleep for just five more minutes, exactly what she used to do when she was still a junior in high school.

A small sigh escaped her lips when she realised that she couldn't even remember a time when she felt this horrible. She remembered when she was sixteen and excited to rush to school to find out who she'd been cast as in each school play. She'd always been the lead, save for one performance, Twinkie Town, that she'd lost out to Gabriella Montez. But there was no hard feelings between either of the girls, and over the years, they'd developed a sort of friendship that was, in the very essence of the word- wacky. They hardly shared any interests, save for singing, and soap operas, but the girls found themselves riddled with a bond that couldn't be strayed from. Over time, they worked out their differences- Sharpay learnt how people solved chemical equasions for fun- although she was still puzzled as to why someone would deem it fun, and Gabriella got a hang of dancing routines from watching Grease and Dirty Dancing, both of which were Sharpay's favourites, over and over again. As they grew older, their friendship blossomed. Sharpay had even obliged Gabriella by being her maid of honour at her wedding to Ryan almost five years ago. It had been a beautiful affair, and Sharpay even managed a smile when she caught sight of Ryan affectionately kiss his bride on the cheek when he thought that no one was looking. She sighed once more, wishing that she could've been so perfect, just like them.

She smiled. That would've been nice, wouldn't it?

She pressed the alarm clock button before it rang (she wondered why it only chose now, of all times, to ring), and stumbled out of her bed into the bathroom. Her hair was wildly amock and her breath stank, but she knew that not everyone could look so good at every waking moment- and this just so happened to be part and parcel of her decline.

She picked up her purple toothbrush and brushed her teeth, staring at her reflection throughout her rigorous teeth-cleaning proceedure. She scruntinised each line of her face, the eyebags that wouldn't go away, and her hair that lacked the lustre that it had in her teen years. And then, she thought about those memorable years, about how long she'd spent in the Theater Hall with Ryan just singing and dancing sultry afternoons away, how she'd curl up, half asleep in her own bed when she was supposed to be writing that report on anatomy for Biology. And as much as she was hesitant to admit- she missed those moments.

All those blinding, toe-curling experiences that defined teenhood- that gave reason for her angsty outcries and petty outburtsts and paved the way for her entrance into womanhood. As bloody tortorous and extremely embarassing as her teenage years may have been (what, with all the acne and even one semester in eight grade where she'd had retainers), it had all been something she'd never ever wanted to let go.

All, though, except for one.

A certain memory suddenly came to mind, one packed with an overdrive of hormones and silly impulse. One that involved a certain blue eyed, blondish brown haired boy, a Las Vegas cathedral, and a whole lot of cheap beer.

That was how she remembered getting married- being eighteen, drunk and clad in her favourite knee length, fake alligator boots and a flower printed dress that was a tad bit too gaudy and itchy.

She hadn't known why she did it. Or why they did it. She half supposed it was because, in reality, she did truly love him. Although her father was quick to disagree, saying that Troy Bolton was not worthy of his daughter, and thus forbidding them to even see each other. But they did it anyway, behind his back, during Friday nights and Sunday afternoons when Mr. Evans was out playing his weekly game of golf with his buddies and Ryan.

Sad to say, after a year, perhaps two, she'd come to realise her father had been right. Troy Bolton was most definitely not for her.

She'd never once missed her ex-husband... well, husband, if she could say. They'd never officiated their divorce because laywers were expensive and money was tight around the house, so she'd packed and before leaving, wrote him a two page letter saying that she'd never wanted to see him again. And that much she'd succeeded, althought she'd been half expecting him to come all the way across the globe searching for her. But when he never did, she gave up and moved into New York for good.

It was a busy life compared to New Mexico, where she'd stayed all her life. Time seemed to fly at breakneck speed and everything was way more expensive here. She did secure a really good job though, as an editor of a woman's magazine- Zed, and she got paid enough to eat and own credit cards and a nice apartment. And then, of course, what she'd never expected was to meet the love of her life, Spencer Nielsen, and suddenly, New York seemed a whole lot better than her old home town.

They'd been going out for nearly two years now, and Sharpay was almost certain he was the one. But then, it hadn't been so long ago that she'd ever thought that way, and it hadn't ended pretty. So she was careful, made sure nothing of her past leaked out to him, and that way, no one would get hurt.

She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, before glancing up at the mirror once more.

Oh well. She thought as she reflected, life's like that.

A/N: Okay, yes, I know what you're gonna say. Why is this crazy, whacked up authoress trying to pull here? She's struggling for exams, still not even started on Precettore chapter seven, and now she chooses to churn out a story, seemingly out of the blue?

Yes, yes. I plead guilty on all charges.

But well, I couldn't help it. But I'll give you a guess at which movie I'm trying to bring to life here. It's one of my favourites, and it made me cry like hell.

PS: Should I continue? But I can't guarantee another update anytime soon. Also, in the meantime, you could check out Precettore, which is actually meant to be the prequel to this story, but I thought it didn't really fit at all, so I guess you could read them seperately. But Precettore is the story of how Gabi and Ryan get together- if you dig stuff like that, I guess.

And er, yes, exams are in SEVEN DAYS- GLORY, KILL ME ALREADY!

Much love. (: