So. Um. Apparently February is over. Someone wanna tell me how that happened?
I wanted to post something else, but I can't seem to find time to finish that, so you get this instead. I was going more for tone on this one than plot. It probably shows. Sorry.
Disclaimer: I sure as hell would not be in school right now if I owned this show.
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The magazines lie forgotten on the bed between them. Miley isn't sure how they got to this point. She remembers Lilly asking a question, glancing up to answer – and then nothing except Lilly's eyes, which are the most complicated, fascinating blue Miley can imagine. They change color while you're watching, like the ocean before a storm.
A noise in the hall breaks their trance and they spring apart, Lilly bouncing off the bed and across the room. She fiddles with the jewelry strewn across the top of Miley's dresser, keeping her back to Miley. Miley blushes and doesn't know why. They weren't doing anything.
Another noise in the hall, footsteps, and now Oliver crowds into the doorway. "Oh yeah, I still got it," he announces smugly, flipping up the collar on his shirt. "I met this girl on my way here and she totally wants on the Ollie Trolley. So what are you guys doing?"
"We're looking at magazines, Oliver, what does it look like we're doing?" She'd meant to sound eye-roll sarcastic, but instead her voice comes out harsh and defensive. But they weren't doing anything. She doesn't even know what they could have been doing.
"Then...why is Lilly all the way over there?" Oliver asks.
Lilly snatches a hair brush off the dresser. "I, uh, I needed to brush my hair," she stutters, at the same time Miley blurts, "She wanted to borrow some earrings."
Oliver looks back and forth between them in confusion. He doesn't know what's going on. Neither does Miley. "Why are you even here, Oliver?" she snaps.
"Um, you told me to meet you guys at four?" he says.
She glances at the clock radio on her bedside table. It reads 4:04. Now she remembers. That was the question Lilly had asked: when is Oliver getting here? She remembers thinking, In five minutes, the words dying on her lips when she looked up. Had she really been staring at Lilly for almost ten minutes? That's ridiculous. It doesn't make any sense. And –
This is not the first time it's happened.
Miley massages her temples in an attempt to clear her head. What the heck is wrong with her?
"Are you okay?" Oliver asks.
Lilly is at her side in an instant. "What's wrong?" she asks, much more worried than she should be. "Are you all right? Do you want some aspirin? Do you need to lay down?" She hovers over Miley. Her body radiates heat and she smells like cinnamon.
"I'm fine," Miley says. It's harder to think with Lilly next to her, which doesn't seem right but she can't quite remember why. She leans slightly away. Lilly starts at the movement and takes a step backwards, tripping over her own feet and landing on the bed with a thud.
"Man, what is with you guys lately?" Oliver says.
"Nothing!" Lilly says quickly.
"Come on," Miley says, launching herself off the bed, glad there's somewhere they need to be. "Let's go meet Sarah."
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They're going to prom as a group, the four of them. Boys have asked, but Miley said no each time, the word seeming to leap out of her mouth before she could stop it. Lilly says no one's asked her, even though Miley is almost certain she saw Jared Evans walk away from Lilly with a disappointed look on his face one day last week. Same with Tony Pickering a day later.
It's one of those things she'd find weird if she could think about it. But she can't. There are a lot of things she can't really think about these days: boys, prom, finals, graduation. Even the worldwide tour, which starts in July and will go for a year, can't hold her attention.
What she does think about, what keeps her up at night, is that she won't see Lilly once that whole time.
"I sent my confirmation in to Berkeley today," Sarah chirps. They're at Rico's. Miley missed lunch and she really wants a hotdog, but not more than she wants to avoid one of Sarah's lectures, so she sticks with bottled water. "I'm so excited! Have you guys decided where you're going?"
"U.S.C.," Oliver boasts, unreasonably proud that he got in anywhere.
"U.C.L.A.," Miley says. "They have this really cool distance education program, so I'm doing that because I'm going to be traveling a lot. With my dad. For business. His business. My dad has to travel a lot for business and I'm going with him." It's a compromise between her desire for the tour and his insistence that school still comes first.
Sarah just nods, unfazed by the jumbled explanation. She's used to them by now. She looks at Lilly expectantly. "I haven't made up my mind yet," Lilly mutters. Lilly got accepted to Stanford. She'd be crazy not to go, but every time Miley tells her that, Lilly gets quiet and changes the subject. That's another thing Miley would find weird if she could think about it.
"Hey, so we're totally gonna get a limo, right?" Oliver asks. They spend the rest of the afternoon making plans for prom. Without letting herself wonder why, Miley is careful not to look at Lilly too often, or for too long.
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The window is open, letting in balmy air with a slight breeze that promises cooler temperatures once night falls. For now, dusk turns the sky a dark, pearly blue. Flowers scent the breeze, barely perceptible over the ever-present smell of the sea. Every light in Miley's room is turned on, and Lilly and Sarah chatter incessantly as Lilly twists Sarah's hair up. Oliver is meeting them in twenty minutes and they are nowhere near ready.
Miley's hair is already done and her dress is on; she stands next to them at the vanity applying make-up. She does it slowly and with great concentration.
Everything seems to be happening at a distance, she feels disconnected from her body, as if any moment she might float away, like when you have a cold and take too much medicine. Maybe that's it, Miley thinks. Maybe she's sick.
"Miley," Lilly calls from behind her, and Miley turns. She locks eyes with Lilly. The room swims around her like she's been spinning in place to make herself dizzy. Lilly is the only solid point.
Miley blinks. Lilly and Sarah are across the room, struggling into their dresses. When had they gotten up? Why hadn't she noticed? She's losing time like she's been losing sleep. It should worry her, but every time she tries to summon that emotion it slips away from her and she doesn't have the will to chase after it.
"A little help?" Lilly asks, gesturing awkwardly behind her to the back of her dress.
Miley almost nods but she's afraid it will set the room spinning again. "Sure," she says instead, forcing the word out of her inexplicably dry mouth. She crosses the room carefully. The floor feels as steady as the deck of a storm-tossed ship.
Whatever she's caught must be screwing up her equilibrium. Right after prom she'll go to bed and stay there. Her dad will bring her ginger ale and chicken noodle soup with crackers in it and in a few days everything will be back to normal.
Another breeze gusts through the window, cooler now, and raises goosebumps on Miley's bare arms. Lilly's back is warm in comparison, soft and smooth as Miley hesitantly traces fingers down the V of skin exposed by the unzipped dress. Lilly shivers. She must find the breeze cold, too.
Lilly has already zipped the dress partway, but the zipper is caught on the fabric. Miley works it loose slowly, methodically, focusing on one tiny bit of the dress at a time. It finally slides free, Miley's fingers brushing the small of Lilly's back. Lilly inhales sharply and Miley quickly tugs the zipper up and steps back. "Is that okay? It's not – it's not too tight is it? Or – "
"It's fine," Lilly says faintly, and then again, stronger, "It's fine."
Miley goes back to the vanity and finishes her make-up. In the mirror, she sees Sarah watching her, eyes glimmering with unshed laughter. Miley wants to snap at her. What is it that she could possibly find so funny? But she keeps quiet. Sarah has a weird sense of humor, and Miley doesn't know if she wants the answer to that question.
"You look really nice, Sarah," Lilly says. She comes to stand next to Miley and starts with her own make-up. Her nearness makes Miley's skin tingle but she doesn't look at Lilly. Instead she studies Sarah's reflection and decides that Lilly is right. "You know what would look great with her dress, though, Miley? That necklace, you know the one..."
Miley knows. She wore it in a video shoot two months ago. It's in the Hannah closet. "I'll get it," Miley says, relieved and disappointed to move away from Lilly. Lilly asks Sarah for help to distract her while Miley slips into her closet and closes the door behind her. She can breathe easier in here despite the small space. Maybe it's something in the air, maybe she shouldn't have the window open.
She pushes clothes out of the way and hurries into the Hannah closet. It only takes a minute to find the necklace, less to make her way back into her bedroom. "Here you go, Sarah." The necklace dangles from her fingers as she holds it out.
Sarah's eyes widen. "Oh my god," she says. "That is exactly like the necklace Hannah Montana wears in her new video!"
Sweet niblets, Miley thinks. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a blur that is Lilly swiftly moving to shut the closet door and she realizes she left the Hannah closet open, exposed. How could she be so stupid? If only she could think clearly, just for five minutes, just long enough to figure out what's wrong with her.
Sarah's eyes haven't left the necklace, maybe she hasn't seen anything. "Yeah, um," Miley stammers. Her mind whirls, searching for an explanation. "I – I loved the necklace and someone posted on a fansite where she bought it, so I went and got one."
Lilly is behind her now. She leans in close. "Nice save," she whispers in Miley's ear, and Miley shivers even though the breeze has long since died.
The doorbell rings downstairs. "That's Oliver," Lilly says. She takes the necklace from fingers that go nerveless at her touch. "Go stall him while we finish getting ready."
Downstairs, Oliver is a ball of energy. He fidgets around her and makes bad joke after bad joke. Miley tries to laugh, but her mind is upstairs, wondering what Lilly is doing and how much longer it will take her to get ready. Oliver barely registers.
"Okay, we're coming down," Lilly yells, and Oliver gets finally, mercifully quiet.
Sarah comes down first, Lilly behind her.
"Sarah, wow," Oliver says, and it's true that Sarah looks gorgeous, but Miley forgets that the second Lilly steps out next to her. It's the first time she's seen Lilly fully in her dress, and the sight sets butterflies swarming over and around each other in her stomach. Stop it, Miley thinks. It's just Lilly. There's nothing to be nervous about. But she is.
"You – " Miley says, but no sound comes out. She has to stop and start again. Lilly watches her closely. "You look – " Breathtaking. " – beautiful." She's told Lilly that countless times before, but this feels different.
Lilly's lips curve into a smile. "Thanks," she says. "So do you." That feels different, too, something about the way Lilly says it or the look in her eyes, or maybe Miley's hallucinating. Fever spots burn high on her cheeks. She tears her eyes away and laughs uneasily for no reason that she can tell.
"Picture time!" her dad says, coming down the stairs with his camera in hand. Miley wants to protest, but then Lilly is at her side, linking their arms together, and Miley loses her train of thought. The flash on the camera blinds her and by the time her dad is done taking pictures of them in every conceivable combination she is thoroughly dazed.
"Let me just get one more of Miley and Lilly and then y'all can go," he says. The camera flashes again and before Miley's vision clears Lilly is tugging her out the door, hands clasped together. Miley stumbles a bit but follows willingly, trusting that Lilly will keep her safe.
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Disco balls spin from the ceiling, colored lights bouncing off them and over the assembled students. Miley dances with Oliver. "I can't believe we're graduating in less than a month," Oliver says.
"Yeah," Miley says. They're graduating, and she's going on tour and Lilly's going to school and nothing will ever be the same again. Will they still be best friends when they can't see each other? Will they still be close when they're so far apart?
The band starts a slow song. "Hey," Oliver says. He nods to where Sarah is dancing with Lilly. "I'm gonna cut in and dance with Sarah, all right?"
The question sparks a connection with the expression on Oliver's face when Sarah came down the stairs. "Oh my god, you like Sarah!" she says.
Oliver looks at her strangely and laughs. "Okay," he says. "Sure." He dances them over to the other pair before she thinks to question his odd response.
Sarah accepts and she and Oliver twirl away, leaving Miley and Lilly alone stealing little glances at each other through the empty space between them. "Remember the seventies dance?" Miley says. It seems like such a long time ago. Things were so much easier then, when they had all of high school ahead of them, four whole years to spend together. "With Jake?" Lilly nods. "Do you...do you want to dance? For old times' sake?"
Lilly smiles. "Okay."
Miley wants it to be like it was back then. Wants that feeling back, that knowledge that she and Lilly will always be together, always be there for each other. Best friends forever.
But it's four years later, and she should have known that nothing is the same. The butterflies perform loops in her stomach and her vertigo returns as Lilly puts one hand on her shoulder and takes Miley's hand with the other. The perfume Lilly is wearing clogs Miley's nose and throat and she can't breathe. Miley knows she's supposed to take a step closer, put a hand on Lilly's back, but she can't. Her balance is too precarious; if she moves, especially closer to Lilly, she might collapse. It's the lack of sleep, or whatever's making her sick, she's sure of it.
"I think Oliver likes Sarah," she says desperately to cover the fact that her feet are glued to the floor.
"Miley." Lilly sighs and her arms fall to her sides. "Why don't we go get some punch?"
It's quieter over by the refreshments table, though Oliver's excited anticipation about the end of everything is shared by everyone else here, and that feeling manifests as a palpable cloud of energy that hovers over the entire room. This is prom. She should be enjoying it. Instead she feels like she's falling apart, dissolving.
Miley ladles out two cups of punch. Her arms are weak, like any second they will start to tremble uncontrollably. Low blood sugar. That could be it. She's been forgetting to eat a lot. She sips at the punch to steady herself, then spits it back into the cup. It's spiked.
"Lilly, someone spiked this," she says, turning. "Do you – " Lilly is gone. Her hands do start to tremble then. Punch spills over the side of one of the clear plastic cups and runs down her hand. She sets them down on the table and grabs napkins, scrubbing furiously at the sticky wetness.
"Are you okay, Miley?" someone asks. Miley looks up. Becca Weller.
"Do you – did you see where Lilly went?"
Becca points to the door. "She went that way. I think she was going to the bathroom or something."
"Thanks," Miley tells her. She leaves the stained, crumpled napkins on the table and hurries out the door and down the hall. She is suddenly sure that Lilly hasn't gone to the bathroom at all, that she's left completely, that Miley will never see her again. Her steps quicken and the skirt of her dress floats out behind her.
The building seems insubstantial around her, unreal. She isn't sick, Miley decides. This is a dream. Nothing makes sense anymore, and things don't make sense in dreams. She has to find Lilly before she wakes up. She has to know how the dream ends.
Lilly is in the bathroom after all, just like Becca said. She looks up when Miley enters. Most of her make-up has been wiped off and her eyes are rimmed in red. Damp paper towels litter the counter in front of her. Now that she's found Lilly, Miley has no idea what to do. It's only a dream, she thinks. It isn't real.
"Hey, this is just like the seventies dance, too," she jokes lamely.
"Except this time we aren't fighting over a boy," Lilly says.
"No," Miley agrees.
"What are we doing?" Lilly asks.
"What?" Miley says, startled. Like everything else, Lilly's question makes no sense. Dream logic, Miley thinks. It goes by leaps and bounds that are impossible to follow. If only Lilly could take her hand like she had earlier and pull her along.
Lilly closes her eyes and leans on her arms over the counter. "Never mind," she says. "I guess that's my answer."
Miley can't look at her; it hurts too much. She stares up at the fluorescent light on the ceiling. It's so bright her eyes water and a halo forms around it. The afterimage glows purple when she finally looks away. "Lilly," she tries. "I don't understand."
"It doesn't matter, Miley," Lilly says. "It's not important. Let's go back to the dance." She steps away from the counter and starts to go around Miley to the door.
But that's not how the dream is supposed to end, Miley knows that even if she doesn't know anything else. "Wait." She puts a hand on Lilly's shoulder. Lilly's skin is so soft. She could touch it forever. Her brain buzzes with that thought as she trails her fingers down Lilly's arm, watching them in fascination. She could do this forever.
"Miley," Lilly says, and Miley jerks her hand away. What is she doing? She looks up at Lilly for a clue, but Lilly only meets her eyes and waits, silent.
"Lilly, I think – " She thinks there must be some way this all makes sense. There must be an explanation for the lost sleep and missing time, the tingling skin, the vertigo. For Sarah's secret laughter and Oliver's cryptic look and the butterflies trying to climb out of her stomach and up her chest. It's there, somewhere, if only she could get to it. Dream logic. Her eyes fall to Lilly's mouth. And she leaps. "I think I want to kiss you."
The sentence roots her in place. She can't risk moving and waking up before she knows what Lilly will say, how this will end. This might not be real, but Lilly was wrong: it is important.
Lilly steps closer, once, twice. The light, floral scent of her perfume swirls around them, pleasant now instead of choking. She stands on tiptoe, puts a hand on the side of Miley's neck, kisses her delicately. Pulls away and settles back on her heels.
"Oh," Miley says. She leans forward and rests her forehead on Lilly's, rubbing their noses together. All of her confusion burns away like fog under the sun. This isn't a dream, it isn't unreal. This is more real than anything else that's ever happened to her. She laughs softly.
"What?" Lilly asks, stepping back, worried.
"Nothing. It's just – " She grins at Lilly. "I'm such an idiot."
Lilly smiles, laughs. "It's okay," she says. "But it's a good thing you're pretty."
I love you, Miley thinks. She wants to say it but the words lodge in her throat, stuck there because she doesn't know how she means it. I love you, you're my best friend? I love you, I want to kiss you again? I love you, I want to spend the rest of my life with you?
On impulse she steps forward, gathers Lilly to her, and kisses her. Lilly's lips part and Miley pulls the lower one between hers, running her tongue over it. Lilly moans. The last one, Miley realizes.
"I love you," Miley says. She slides her arms around Lilly's waist and Lilly lays her head on Miley's shoulder.
"Don't leave me," Lilly whispers.
Miley's arms tighten around her. She doesn't want to. God, but she doesn't want to. "Lilly, I – The tour's sold out already. I can't cancel it, I – "
"I know," Lilly says. She raises her head. "So I'll go with you. Don't leave me here."
"You have to go to school," Miley tells her. "Stanford – "
"Isn't the only school I applied to," Lilly says. "I also got into U.C.L.A. I hear they have a really cool distance education program."
You have to apply to the distance education program specifically. The deadline was back in February. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Miley asks.
"Long enough."
Miley shakes her head. "Why didn't you tell me?" She doesn't mean about college.
Lilly shrugs, smirks at her. "You never listen. Besides, I didn't know if you felt – "
"Of course," Miley says. "Of course I do."
They fold against each other, burying their faces against each other's necks, pressed tight together. "I love you," Lilly says, breath warm on Miley's skin.
Miley clings to her, and she's never letting go.
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I kind of feel like writing a companion fic to this story from Lilly's pov, which would explain a few things, like, oh, how Oliver figured out what the heck was going on. But who knows if that will ever happen.
Okay, you guys, I can't decide what to do about the book. I am disinclined to purchase it for a wide variety of reasons, but then I read descriptions of it that make me think reading it would bring me great joy. I AM TORN. Anyone have some pros/cons I should consider? Personally, I have "autobiography of a fifteen-year-old" on both sides of the list.
Lastly, it would seem that I am spending some of my non-existent free time messing around with a Photoshop knock-off trying to learn how to make icons. Yeah, I don't know. Anyway, there are a bunch up on my website now if anyone cares enough to look. Most of them are pretty crappy, though, so I probably wouldn't.