This last chapter is dedicated to my girl, Silvia. Happy birthday, darling!

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The Cherubs

Chapter Eleven: Grocery Stores

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"Troy, put them back, we don't need them!"

"But Brie, they're on sale!"

"I don't care if they're free, they're garbage and we don't need them! Put them back on the shelf!"

A scoff. "Why do you always get to decide what we buy?"

A glare. "Because if it were up to you, our entire fridge would be filled to the brim with junk food and beer!" The dark haired woman pushed the shopping cart forward slightly, clipping her boyfriend's hip.

Said boyfriend rolled his eyes. "That really shouldn't matter, I do all of the cooking!"

"Hey!" she bristled, "I'm still trying to learn!"

"Gabriella," twenty-three year old Troy said, "I've known you basically my whole life. I've cooked for you since we were fourteen. We've lived together for the last three years. You've cooked a total of fifteen times."

The girl in question pouted. He wasn't lying, and if anyone were to know how often (or rather, how rarely) it would be her best friend of forever and her boyfriend of six years. "That is completely irrelevant. Can you just put them back? We'll get something else in place of them, I promise."

Troy pouted. "You always say that and when I'm not looking, you take the replacement out of the cart."

Reluctantly, he placed the box of Fruit Roll Ups back onto the shelf. He sighed and looked at Gabriella with wide, sad eyes.

"Do you want me to be sad, baby?" he asked, "I need the candy. I want the candy. We can totally give them to our guests when we have people over."

Gabriella rolled her eyes and pushed the cart past the snack aisle. "Troy, the only company we have over consistently is Jason and Kelsi and I can tell you that neither of them particularly consider Fruit Roll Ups to be good party food. Maybe Jason, but not Kelsi and I refuse to serve them. Plus that won't even happen," she said as they turned down the cereal aisle, "we'll get home and you'll eat them for breakfast, lunch and dinner."

Troy rolled his eyes. "Okay, that it's it, I'm dumping you," he said as she came to a stop and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I think our differences are too vast and too many and I don't think this is going to work out. I am sorry."

She elbowed him in the ribs in response. "Oh, right, you sure you want to do that."

He nodded, resting his chin on the top of her head as she surveyed the selections. "Yep. One hundred percent positive. I don't need someone who won't let me buy Fruit Roll Ups."

"Good luck trying to find a best friend that will sleep with you, then," she said leaning forward to grab a box of Corn Flakes. It was an awkward lean, Troy's grasp around her hips unrelenting and it made movement difficult. Some she still managed, and dropped the box into the cart, pushing it along as Troy waddled behind her.

"On second thought, you're right," Troy said, "plus after university, I don't want to do the roommate thing again. I guess I kind of enjoy having you around."

It had been six years since Sharpay had fallen through Troy's treehouse and forced her match-making ways upon him. As he looked back on it over the years, he realized she didn't help a whole lot, but she had still made a massive impact on he and Gabriella's lives. They had been living together for the last three years after finishing their undergrad studies in California together and now resided in Pal Alto. Their apartment was quaint and small and at times completely messy, but Troy still cooked well and Gabriella still cleaned up after him, so overall, it worked out nicely.

They fell into the comfort and ease of a relationship quickly after Sharpay left. In so many ways, it was like nothing had changed, except for they kissed and held hands, went on dates and celebrated anniversaries and when they said they loved each other, it was in a completely different way than before.

Together they had accumulated nearly twelve shoeboxes over the years, filled with cards and movie tickets, photos and e-mails from when they were apart for school (which wasn't often with Troy at Berkeley and Gabriella at Stanford). A lot of their friends called them mushy, ridiculous pack-rats. They called themselves sentimental.

They were still the best of friends, would always be each other's best friends. There were times when they would be so angry with each other, but completely unable to stay mad. Troy would tackle Gabriella and she would laugh and they'd kiss and it would all be over.

For many years they had debated about where Sharpay had gone, what she was doing, but it was completely useless in the long run. They had absolutely no clues and no answers; all they knew was that they'd forever be thankful for her.

(However, Troy was still a little miffed that she broke the treehouse, even though it was rebuilt.)

"You guess you like having me around?" Gabriella said, turning in his arms slightly. "I think that's completely unfair."

He shrugged, "It's true, though," he shot her a grin, "though if you let me get Lucky Charms, I'd totally love you more than I already do."

She pursed her lips, debating about whether or not it was worth it to debate the matter, make him give up having sugary cereal. With a sigh and a wave of her hand, she gave her consent.

"Oh, whatever, get the damn marshmellow cereal, see if I care," she said reluctantly and Troy punched his fist in the air in victory before grabbing the box off the shelf.

As he placed it in the cart, he grinned at her brightly. "This is pretty domestic of us, huh?" he asked.

Pushing the cart down the aisle, she giggled despite herself. "Well, after all this time, I think you could call us pretty domesticated."

Troy felt another goofy smile spread across his face. He'd never get tired of this.

"I like it," he murmured, leaning down to peck her lips. "I like it a lot."

She smiled a lazy smile. "I like it, too."

"Excuse me?" a slightly irritated voice came from behind them. "Could I just get by you?"

Troy tried not to roll his eyes at the clipped tone, before moving out of the way slightly. "Yeah, sure, sorry," he said, glancing at Gabriella to shoot her an annoyed look. When he looked at her, however, her face was pale and shocked.

"Brie, you okay?" he asked, stepping forward to place a hand on her waist. Her mouth fell open and she shook her head.

"No, I," she trailed off. "Sharpay?"

Troy's head snapped to the side, looking at the woman who had requested he moved. She had long blonde layered hair, brown eyes, her cheekbones high and defined, and her mouth like a small pink bow. She looked just like Sharpay.

The woman blinked at them, looking them over curiously as she held a box of cereal in her hands. She folded her arms over her chest, the many strands of pearls she was wearing clinking slightly as she moved. "Yes? May I help you?"


Troy and Gabriella exchanged a look. Her name was Sharpay, she responded to the name. What was she doing here? How did she get here? Last they had seen her they had been seventeen and well, she had had wings. Now she appeared to be human and regarding them with extreme distaste.

Gabriella swallowed and Troy tightened his grip on her. "H-how did you get here?"

Sharpay frowned, furrowing her brow. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked, "how do you know my name? Are you interested in the drama classes?"

Gabriella shook her head. "No, I—drama classes?"

Sharpay nodded. "Yes," she said, as if speaking to children. "That's how you know me, correct? From the advertisements on television?"

Troy and Gabriella looked at each other in confusion. "No, it's us, it's," she trailed off, "it's Troy and Gabriella."

She looked at the woman for a moment, trying to see if there was a flicker of recognition, a sign that she knew who they were, that she was what they hoped she was. Instead she just wrinkled her brow and tossed her hair over her shoulder haughtily.

"I'm sorry," she said simply, "I have no idea who you are. But in case you do ever want drama lessons," she said, "here's my card."

She dug into her oversized leather handbag and produced a hot pink sparkly card. 'Sharpay Evans-Baylor's School of Drama and Dance' was written in bold, curly script above a phone number and e-mail. Troy reached out to take the card and as he did, Gabriella gasped.

"Oh my god," she said, grabbing Sharpay's hand and inspecting her right fingers. "Oh..."

Troy looked at her in confusion, and then back down at Sharpay's hand. On her right ring finger was a tattooed black ring with a scribbled heart in the middle. He blanched.

Gabriella had told him of her last conversation with Sharpay, how she had drawn the heart on her finger. It was there, on her finger. It was her, it was Sharpay.

Sharpay stared at them and stepped back slightly. A loud call of "Babe!" was heard and her head whipped around.

"Coming, Zeke!" she called and a man with dark skin and hair turned around the corner. Her eyes lit up when she saw him. "It was, um, nice to meet you?" she said simply before whirling around and walking over to him, looping her hand with his.

When she was gone, Troy and Gabriella stared at each other in wonder, Troy pocketing the business card as they finished their shopping in silence, completely stunned at the events that just took place.

Later, when they arrived home, they called the number on her business card. It wasn't in service.

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I can't for the life of me explain how exactly Sharpay came to us, other than it was Chad's doing. But Chad never visited again, so I was never able to ask him these things, get him to elaborate explain each of these answers in detail. It's unfortunate, yet it's probably for the best.

Just as I can't explain how she came to us, I'm unable to explain how she appeared in a random grocery store in California. We never saw her again and no matter how many Google searches we did, the result was always the same: Sharpay Evans-Baylor's School of Drama and Dance simply did not exist.

It's a tricky thing, the inexplicable, but so much of life is like that. Impossible to understand, impossible to know, and impossible to grasp. Life, death, love; so much of it is based on not really knowing, on living ignorantly. We don't know why we as humans are here, we don't know why we die and we don't know why we fall in love. All we really have, the only thing that leads us is faith.

Faith that you're living life for a purpose, faith in those you love and faith in yourself. Faith that it will all work out.

It's the times of your life where you don't have faith that you struggle, where nothing makes sense and you beat yourself up over things you can't control. Where you are unable to see the beauty in the simplistic things, or the beauty in the complicated things, such as your best friend. We all have these struggles, these bad times, and sometimes all we need is a little push.

And at seventeen, I need a push. What I really needed was a whack in the head, but Gabriella's too nice and Chad wasn't there to give it. So instead, I got a guardian angel.

Gabriella thinks Sharpay might still be out there somewhere, holding that man's hand and cruising up and down the aisles of grocery stores worldwide. I like her theory; it's warm, simple and full of fantasy. I like to think that she came to check up on us, make sure everything was okay.

The thing is neither of really know for sure, but it's good to suspend belief in those things. To believe that everything is okay, will be okay, and will work out for the best in the end. To suspend belief in things, like love and friendship.

If there's anything I learned from this whole ordeal (besides how much of an idiot I was), it's that those are the most important things in life. Everything else is secondary.

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And it's finished. :) No crazy thank yous this time around, just one to each and everyone one of the girls on FF for their support and all of you who read and reviewed. :)

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