Title: I Ran With Scissors

Author: little.miss.sarcasm

Rated: T

Summary: I ran with scissors. And lived.

Category: Romance/Fluff

Pairing: Chaylor

Disclaimer: I do not own High School Musical or its character no matter how much I wish I did. I do, however, own the plot and the utterly blunt words that come with the story. This plot may be used somewhere on this site somewhere... I don't know yet.

Dedicated to SmileyMiley. Just cuz I can do that.

A lot of people said he was dangerous. He was untrustworthy, he was a rebel, and he was headed down a road of no return. I knew that. But I wasn't going to let them know that I knew. It would defeat the purpose of my defiance.

My dad said, "No. Absolutely not! Look at him!" My mom said, "Honey, if you date him, I will take you out of the will." My brother said, "Get out of the bathroom! I'm changing!"

I couldn't help it. He was just attractive that way. He was like dark chocolate. Bitter and tasteful at the same time. Not to mention I really want to sink my teeth into this kid. He was like a pair of scissors. Sharp and dangerous. I liked risk… a bit. The way his curly hair brushes his brown eyes, the way his pearly white teeth shine from his lopsided smile. This boy was pure Greek god in the form of a human boy, and he was all mine.

That is, of course, until we broke up.

It was mutual, I guess. He sensed that my family and friends disapproved; I knew that he wanted to be the free-reign kind of guy he was before he started dating me. The problem was, I really liked him even- dare I say it?- loved him. No matter how rugged or rebellious he was, he treated me the way no guy ever did. He opened the door for me, pulled out my chair; he acted like a real gentleman.

It was thinking about this that brought me to my sobbing shell of nothingness that rainy Saturday night.

I rested in the living room where a fire crackled merrily in the hearth. I shot it a nasty look, daring it to be happy when I was feeling so miserable. I squished myself further into the couch, wanting desperately to disappear. The firelight danced across the walls, casting an orange glow around the room. The fire cracked on. Crack, snap, crack.

………

"Chad, don't you dare throw that!"

"Oh, come on, Taylor!" He cried. "It's only a couple eggs. It's not going to kill anyone!"

I bit my lip. I knew it was a bad idea. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement. They melted me immediately. So I laughed and shrugged the thought away. "Go for it!" I yelled.

Crack! Crack!

Laughter…

………

I found myself alone in my bedroom.

The rain slapped my windows and streamed down the panes, much like my tears were doing to my face. I was a teary, snotty mess on my bed, looking at a photograph of us- of Chad and me. I got up, not tearing my eyes away from the picture for one moment. Soon I was looking at it as I blindly traveled down the hallway. Perhaps that was my fault. Because my brother Sam saw me and, being the kind, loving brother he was, he decided to take the picture from my hand as a teasing/blackmailing device.

"Give it back!" I yelled, my dark brown locks whipping my face as I tried to wrestle the picture out of his hands. Sam pulled it away from me and held it high in the air, a cruel, sanctimonious smile on his face. "That's not fair! Give it back!"

Sam shook his head and I jumped up and down rather like a child trying desperately to get the picture back. He lowered it to his face and gave a chuckle. "Still moaning about Charles?"

"Chad," I growled, almost literally, my upper lip curling into what I hoped to be an evil snarl. Sam scoffed, his eyes dancing at the picture, his black hair blindingly bright in the lights of the hallway. It hurt to look up so high at your baby brother.

"Whatever."

I pulled at the picture and Sam pulled back. He wasn't about to lose his last piece of blackmail. After a few vigorous tugs back and forth and the worn picture gave way, tearing clear in half. I let out a blood-curdling scream that was so high that I was sure only dogs could hear it. I grabbed the half of the photograph that remained in Sam's hand.

"G-d, I hate you!" I screamed hysterically, rushing into the room as tears started rolling down my cheeks. I slammed my door, rattling the frame around it. I launched myself onto my bed, landing with my stomach on the cushy bed cover, sinking into its green fluffiness. Burying my head into my pillow, I sobbed.

………

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Well, only if you are."

"I think I am."

"You think?" Chad asked. "Because this isn't one of those 'think' moments. You really have to know."

"I know."

"You ready?"

"I'm ready."

I screamed. Really loudly.

"Shh! Taylor, it's okay!"

"Bloody hell! Make it stop!"

"…'Bloody hell'?" Chad asked with a devious grin. "Since when have we been British?"

"Taylor, I fucking hate-!" My screaming was cute off by his lips on mine.

"All done," The man next to me grunted.

I left the shop that day with a tattoo of a green vine crawling around my wrist.

………

I looked at the green plant wrapped around my wrist. I traced the vine from point A to point B incessantly, absentmindedly going over these memories in my mind. I gave a watery smile and a single, muffled laugh that jolted tears onto my cheeks. I felt so defiant with that one little act. Thinking back on it, it was probably the dumbest thing I'd ever done. Well… one of them. My parents just about killed me that week, so I took refuge at Chad's house, hiding up in his bedroom with a Vogue Magazine in hand, listening to his metal music blasting in my ears.

My picture sat on my pillow, its two side laying mere centimeters apart. One side was he, his hand stretched out to greet mine. He had that goofy, lopsided grin on his face that I adored so much; his brown eyes twinkled in delighted. I was on the other side of the picture, my hand reaching out and clasping onto his. My brown locks bounced happily around my smiling face, the sunlight dappled my body brightly.

I sniffed and gave one last look at the picture. Standing up, I brushed off the front of my pajama pants uselessly and toddled over to the window. An enormous tree masked half of my view of the street. The rain poured heavily, slapping the window with a 'tp tp tp' on the glass. The water streamed quickly down the street in a rapid river, pouring into the sewer that rested across the street from my home.

………

Whoosh.

The water rushed below me rapidly. Raindrops pelted my face, the stinging cold bringing tears to my hazel eyes. I stood on the bridge, holding myself in the icy wind, my legs shaking. Whether it was the weather or the thoughts of my stupid actions that caused this, I don't know.

"Chad… this is…"

Ridiculous. Dim-witted. Beyond comprehendible stupidity.

I could come up with many words that would describe his idea, but none of them seemed to have the courage to float to my lips. I shuddered and look into Chad's smiling eyes. Or attempted to, really. His brown curls were plastered to his forehead so that I could only see the lower half of his eyes.

"I mean, I haven't you heard the saying 'If you're friends jumped off a bridge, would you jump, too?'?" I asked him. "Because I don't see much of a connection on that one."

"Come on, Tay," Chad begged. "We can say that we jumped it! We'll do it together." He held out his hand and I stared it down, as if daring it to reach any closer to me. Rains slid down the palms of his hands and splattered onto the railing with a splash.

I sighed. "All right. But only if you jump with me. Promise?"

He gave me a light kiss on the lips and whispered huskily. "Swear."

Chad clambered onto the railing- thank goodness it was flat- and planted his soaking DC boarding shoes onto the wood. He reached out his hand and helped me slightly as I scrambled up beside him.Chad gave my hand a squeeze.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

SPLASH!

…

I made the loudest groan I have possibly ever made and flopped myself back down on the bed. I covered my face with a furry pillow and screamed. I screamed and screamed until I thought I couldn't scream anymore. And as soon as I thought I couldn't scream, I screamed again. I screamed until it hurt. And then I heard a tap tap tap.

"Go away," I groaned through my pillow.

Tap tap tap.

I threw my pillow onto my bed and sat bolt upright, screaming towards my door. "Sam, I said to go away."

Tap tap tap.

I stood up huffily and stomped over to the door. I slammed it open and started to yell again. "I said-" No one was there… I shut my door silently and started backing into my room again.

Tap tap tap.

"Come on, Taylor! It's freaking freezing out here!"

Slowly, I turned around and looked out my window. Chad was perched on a branch into front of the pane and staring in, his black hair plastered to his face, every inch of his visible skin covered in goose bumps. He tapped again, as if I couldn't see him yet.

"Taylor, please let me in! I want to talk to you!"

Even slower than my turning, I made my way to the window. I slipped the locks and pushed the lower half of the window up as high as I possibly could get it. My movements were made slowly, as if weighted down by water. They were graceful but not exactly planned out. My body was acting of its own accord, mybrain having fallen numb.

Chad clambered through the window and snapped it shut behind him. He flipped around, shivering, facing me with a pleading look in his deep gray eyes. Chad walked closer to me, his wet body almost pressed against mine and he spoke. "I need to talk to you."

"Obviously."

"I made a mistake."

"So did I."

"But not as badly as me." Chad sat on the edge of my bed, causing me to wince. I had just cleaned it and he was getting his filthy rainwater-ed butt stain on the comforter. "Taylor, I messed up really badly. I shouldn't have done what I did to you."

"Chad, it was mutual, remember? I-," I tried to speak.

"No, Taylor, listen." I could see he was having problems wording what he wanted to say. He had an inner battle that last for a few intense moments before he decided to tell me what was on his mind. "I shouldn't have made you do all those things. I could tell you weren't comfortable with it."

"I…"

"I'm not finished," Chad interrupted again. "I was being ridiculous when I broke up with you. I thought you were dragging me down, and, Taylor, you weren't. If anything, you were lifting me up. I needed someone to keep me grounded, someone who was nice, and cute, and funny, and… and… Chad… I don't know why I broke up with you. I was being crazy." A few intense beats of silence followed.

"You done yet?" I asked. Chadsat silently and nodded his head. "How long did it take you to write that script?"

"A long, long time."

"You wasted your time," I answered coolly. I saw his face fall drastically. "You don't need a speech to win me back."

I pulled him into a long hug that slowly lead its way into a kiss. I could feel the smile curling on Chad's lips as they melded with mine and I'm sure mine were doing the same. I'm sure this was probably the most dangerous thing I had ever done.

I ran with scissors.

And I lived.

-----

Voila! What do you think?