Artist: High School Musical
Track: Breaking Free
Album: High School Musical Soundtrack
i don’t write about them often because im working under the rule of thumb where only the queer characters are important to the advancement of the plot
Marcela slips out of her window and onto the ground below—a twenty foot fall, but her new Adidas cross-trainers absorb the shock and keep her escape from the house silent. She’s supposed to be typing up a report on the Anarchy Riots of 2019, and as far as her parents know, she is. It’ll be handed in on Monday. Only, she’s got a Program running through webcyclopedias and Jstor instead. Said Program will spit out an age-appropriate essay with accurate citations in a few hours. It’s kind of ingenious. Tabitha’s sister’s boyfriend in New York knows a guy at NYU who designed it and sells it at a discount to high schoolers.
(And Violet, precious little 13-year-old that she is, wrote a sub-script that replaces Canadian spellings where needed.)
All of this means that Marcela won’t have to worry about homework for tonight, or the rest of the weekend for that matter. She can party like she deserves to.
She jogs down the road a bit until she finds Tex’s tacky old HoverTruck idling with the headlights turned out. Marcela raps her knuckles on the window, and hears the click of the door unlocking.
"Hey," Tex says, the sounds of his vintage jazz age revival playlist spilling out into the night.
Marcela climbs into the passenger seat and kisses him soundly. “Hey yourself. No Dominic tonight?”
"Nah," he keys their destination into the HTruck’s computer, but drives manually down the mountain, "Remember the cops caught him cyber-tagging behind the Shoppers last weekend? So he’s spending today until Tuesday looking after V while his parents take a weekend in Jasper. The house is on lockdown and everything—they set the HouseGuard to stun after eight."
"Violet doesn’t need a babysitter, though," Marcela says, pursing her lips. It sucks because they always party with Dom. He always knows where to get the best pills, even though he’s been off them for months now. Without them, they’ll have to drink booze like some sort of caveman plebs. Or go sober.
Tex shrugs, ramping up the HTruck’s accelerator as they pull onto the highway. The road tiles light up for them, guiding the way in the pitch black of the mountains at night. “Maybe just this once we could go out without Dominic being a third. It could be a date. You know, like married people do. One-on-one.”
"Oh my god," Marcela murmurs, and she swears she can see Tex glowing pink in the dark. "What, like you want to take me out to dinner and shit? Wine and dine me?" This is some next-level monogamous, in-it-forever, old people stuff.
The HTruck takes over and speeds them down along the route to Kamloops. Tex turns to her, risks holding her hand where there’s no one to posture for and no images to preserve, and it’s just the two of them alone—real. “I dunno, I hear Taco Bell is open late.”