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— act two, scene nine: anything for a friend
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After the last day of school before break, which was pretty much filled with Megara listening to Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara insult each other, it was safe to say she was going to enjoy not going to school. Even though things with the play had been going swimmingly. And as part of her promise to Ricky (slash the fact that she was now determined more than ever to get him back with Nini), she was bringing her dad over to his dad's house.
It should have been noted that this hasn't happened since the second high school musical was released.
"What have you got there?" Megara's dad nodded towards her hand slipping into her black square-shaped purse.
"It's nothing," Megara shrugged it off quickly. "Come on, let's go before my stomach starts making those embarrassing growling noises. I'm starving."
After a quick walk down the block and then some to Ricky's house, Megara fixed the strap of her purse on her shoulder. Since she sported a thick purple scarf and her dark hair in a large knot on the top of her head, she was the definition of comfy and cozy. She relaxed her hands in the pockets of her white long coat as they waited for someone to open the door after ringing the doorbell just once.
"Mikey! Long time no see!" Megara's dad quickly threw open his arms as Ricky's dad opens the doorway to their family home.
"Oh hey, Matty. How are things?" Mike Bowen smiles.
"Eh, you know, same old," Matthew Montez returns the grin.
"Come on in," Mike stands aside, patting Megara on her shoulder as she walks in first. "I think Ricky's still upstairs."
"Right here," Ricky announces his presence by quite literally bouncing down the stairs with his sneakers cushioning every move. Megara's lips curl up slightly, but warmly, as she approaches him. He leans down to whisper into her ear. "Thank you for doing this. You have no idea how lonely he's been. This morning he even put hair gel in for this."
A quick laugh escaped her. "Good, I'm glad. Hey, look what I found today," she reached into her purse and pulled out a cheap photo frame protecting a picture of a young Ricky Bowen and Megara Montez playing football in her front yard on Thanksgiving day.
Ricky grinned. "Oh my God, look at us."
"Tiny then, tiny now."
Ricky sighed. "Speak for yourself," he said, earning a slap on his shoulder from Megara. But he wasn't wrong, as the two glanced at the photograph in his hands, they overlooked the scenario; a short and stubby little girl wearing baggy jeans and a cream-colored crew neck running after the boy in front of her, dark curls messy as ever and sporting a striped sweater.
