Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana, and this work of fiction was written as an act of catharsis with no hope of profit.

Author's Note: I have watched at most ten different episodes of Hannah Montana, so my knowledge of the series is definitely incomplete. Please forgive any inconsistencies between the show and this work and chalk them up to ignorance on my part. If they are really glaring, please write them up in a review and I will do what I can to fix them. This chapter was written in one sitting from 2:00 to 7:00 am. It is set after the group is in high school, maybe sophomore year. I don't really need to nor want to set that in stone yet. I apologize for my long-windedness. It's an unavoidable aspect of my writing.

Oliver leaned his back against the doorframe leading to the porch as he waited for Miley to finish changing. They had been at the beach with Lilly when the rain started, so their plan to hang out at the beach had transformed into a trip to the mall. The trip was experiencing the slight delay because the girl in the other room didn't feel like going to the mall in a wet, white t-shirt even if the boy currently watching her brother make a fool of himself had assured her with a semi-straight face that her bra was not visible through the light blue half-sweater she had been wearing. That assurance had earned him a light slap on the face since he had started it with, "It's really a shame …"

Jackson's current method of foolishness was playing Dance Dance Revolution on the living room television. The boy had all of the enthusiasm necessary for a hardcore player but lacked the dancer's grace. Feeling feisty, Oliver suddenly called out, "It has two dances in the title for a reason, Jackson. It's not stomp, stomp like you're playing whack a mole with your feet revolution."

Not even bothering to look over his shoulder, Jackson answered between hops, "Come show me what'cha got then, donut boy."

Oliver took a hesitant step towards the unoccupied pad, but then thought better of it and went back to the doorframe. Back in his comfortable position, he responded, "I don't want to get all sweaty."

This was met by an immediate, punctuated laugh from Jackson. The song had ended by the time Oliver's weak excuse came out, and Jackson was standing with his back turned to the screen, admiring the soaked clothing of the waiting boy. "You're already covered in rain. Who's going to notice a couple more drops here and there?"

This made perfect sense to Oliver. He was making his way towards the pad when an arm shot out behind him and dragged him back towards the doorframe. The sweet, southern voice that haunted his dreams called out, "Uh uh, hun. I ain't walking round the mall with a boy that smells like a used pair of socks."

"Aww, come on Miles. It's not like he's your boyfriend or nothing. Let the boys fight it out a bit, dancing style!" Jackson accentuated his challenge by taking the crane kick stance from the Karate Kid. Unfortunately Jackson's legs were more tired from his stomping than he had imagined so his flying crane looked more like a lame duck and lasted only a few seconds before he toppled over onto the unused mat to his left.

After nearly joining Jackson on the floor from laughter, the two teenagers regained their composure and were headed to the exit. There were a variety of umbrellas to choose from in the closet next to the door, and Oliver crossed his fingers hoping that Miley was feeling lazy and would allow them to share one big one. His heart dropped when she began coming out of the closet with two umbrellas. At the last moment, however, she turned back into the closet and chose a green, pin-striped golf umbrella which she tossed to Oliver. The boy caught the umbrella lightly and twirled it triumphantly to the bemusement of Miley.

Their escape from the house was halted when Jackson croaked out from his position on the mats, "If Mr. Drowned Rat beats me in a round, I'll drive you guys wherever you're about to go."

With deceptive strength for her lithe frame Miley wrenched the umbrella from Oliver's grasp and shoved him in the direction of the dance pads. It took all of Oliver's balance to keep from falling on top of the still sprawled out Jackson. Seeing that the challenge was on, Jackson quickly got up and made a welcoming gesture towards the pad to his right. A devious smirk had worked its way onto Jackson's face since he alone knew the secret that the second pad had been slightly damaged from repeated stomping.

If someone had been watching only the players as they moved to the music they would have assumed that Oliver had won the round. His moves were fluent and flashy with his knees and hands entering into the arrow pressing action. His upper body was also getting into the music; the shoulder, arms, and hands moving rhythmically to the beat. When Miley looked up at the final score screen, however, it showed a B for Jackson and a C for Oliver.

As soon as the scores were displayed, Jackson turned towards Oliver and began flexing his muscles at him. "Well, well, well. Looks like the whack-a-mole feet stomped on a donut!" He accented his taunt by hopping up and down while still flexing, a motion so ridiculous looking that in spite of the fact that they were going to have to walk through the rain Miley was still laughing when they finally left the house. Oliver was also smiling as they huddled together under the umbrella, but for an entirely different reason. It wasn't every day that he had a reason to be this close to the girl of his dreams.

As the rain crashed against their umbrella Miley suddenly complained, "I can't believe you lost to Jackson. Don't you usually get AA's at the arcade?"

Oliver did his best to keep his eyes looking straight ahead. Lying to Miley wasn't something he was capable of doing while she was looking him in the eyes. "It's just really different going from the arcade to the home version."

After hearing that response an adorable frown formed on Miley's face, and as soon as Oliver spotted it his gaze became dangerously fixated on her. Miley eventually felt his eyes on her and self-consciously asked, "Is there something on my face?"

Feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks, Oliver forced himself to look forward again as he stated as nonchalantly as he could manage, "I just noticed you're still frowning."

Miley shrugged slightly at that. "I just can't shake the feeling that Jackson was cheating somehow. He had the, "I'm cheating" smirk on his face when ya'll started."

Oliver only managed to answer with a shrug of his own. He dared not voice a blatant lie of this magnitude. The truth was that he had noticed at the beginning of the first song that the right and bottom arrows of the pad required harder stepping than usual. Even if the pad had worked perfectly, however, he would have still thrown the game. As a man stuck in the position of best friend to a girl that he was in love with, he had to fight for every opportunity to be with her in an intimate situation like this.

This held especially true when the girl had a boyfriend like Jake Ryan.

Like it was on any other rainy weekend, the mall was packed to the rafters. After entering the mall, Miley used Oliver as a riot shield as she pushed him from behind to break up the crowds. Oliver took the beatings from the different people he ran into and the belongings they seemed to be deliberately swinging at his head with a dreamy smile on his face, intensely aware of the hands pushing him forward from behind.

By the time they finally reached the food court where they had planned to meet Lilly, Oliver was sporting bruises on a wide variety of spots on the front of his body. They quickly spied Lilly who unashamedly jumped on top of the table she had saved for the trio and began waving her arms frantically as soon as Miley called her cell phone. After a brief reprisal of Oliver's role as human riot shield they were seated at the table.

"It's really crowded, Lilly," stated Oliver as he looked around the crowded dining area. He continued with his line of thinking by asking, "How did you manage to get a table with three empty seats?"

Lilly smiled her big, innocent smile as she answered, "Oh, nothing out of the ordinary. Toss a flirtatious wink here, shove a few people there, grease a palm or two, and boom!"

Miley raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Grease a palm, Lilly? Since when do you have extra money to bribe people with?"

Lilly laughed at the question before answering, "Who's talking about bribing? I "accidentally" rubbed a greasy palm on this prissy girl's shirt and she ran screaming to the bathroom, leaving her seat open for the taking by Mall Law."

After groaning, Miley stood up. "I'll go grab something to eat, then. You two stay here so that Lilly doesn't have to grease up anyone else." Ignoring the pout from Lilly, Miley walked towards the Saladworks.

While Miley was gone, Oliver began checking how many injuries he had sustained since entering the mall. After he hit ten he decided that he didn't really want to know. Lilly's voice interrupted his physical inventory by asking, "Those are some nasty bruises. Did you go street surfing after we split up or something?"

"More like Miley went crowd surfing using me as the board, again," complained Oliver. His body slumped forward on the table, his head resting on top of his folded arms in an attempt to use as little energy as possible.

Lilly adopted a similar posture, but her chin was rested on her arms and her eyes were looking at the top of the boy's head. After a moment of awkward silence, Lilly suddenly asked, "So how long are you going to let her use you like this, Oliver?"

With his head still in its resting position, his eyes focused on a toddler who was sitting a couple of tables away happily tearing apart his burrito with a spork, Oliver answered, "We're best friends. She can use me however she needs to."

Lilly returned, "Let me rephrase the question, then. When are you going to give up on her, Oliver?"

This question caught his attention. He suddenly sat straight up and looked directly into Lilly's clear, blue eyes. Somehow, she knew the secret he had been keeping for years. After checking the area around them furtively he asked, "How did you know?"

Lilly rolled her eyes at the boy before answering, "I'm not stupid, Oliver. I'm one of your best friends, and I see how you are and what you are willing to do when Miley's around. It's not the same as when you're around me, that's for sure."

Panic seemed to have overtaken the boy's face. His eyes were continuously scanning the area for invisible intruders, and all of the color had left his cheeks. In a serious voice he questioned in a forced whisper, "Does Miley know?" The slight shake of Lilly's head returned peace to Oliver's world. He slumped backwards into his chair, drained of all emotion. His eyes locked back onto Lilly's as he asked, "Why did you have to bring that up all of a sudden?"

There was a slight hesitation from Lilly as she broke eye contact with Oliver. After a pregnant moment of silence her answer came out quickly as, "I'm just tired of seeing you waste your time and body on a ship that's already sailed. I mean, she has a boyfriend. Heck, she has THE boyfriend." Lilly sighed dramatically at her own mental picture of Jake Ryan.

"Yeah, well THE boyfriend is never around," stated Oliver. "And while he's away, Miley relies on me for most of her guy needs."

Lilly raised her right eyebrow at the boy. "She may rely on you for most of her needs, but definitely not all."

Oliver frowned slightly at this, but he wasn't about to back down from the way of life that he had chosen for the past couple of years. "This is enough for me. I get to be around Miley all of the time and continue to be her best friend. We're way closer than your average couple." It seemed funny to him how defeated those words sounded when they were spoken out loud.

Lilly shrugged her shoulders dramatically as she said, "Whatever you say, Smokin' Oken." In a suddenly bright and loud voice she shouted, "My turn to grab some grub!" In a motion as bright and loud as her voice had been, she sprung up from her seat and offered it to the approaching Miley. As she walked off towards a hamburger stand she called over her shoulder, "Save the seat I fought for!" She was 15 feet away before she turned around and yelled, "If that girl comes back, there's some grease under the table!"

As Miley sprinkled ranch dressing over her salad she noticed that Oliver looked especially drained as he slumped in the chair across from her. Feeling slightly concerned she asked, "Are you okay, Oliver?"

Her voice alone seemed to snap him to attention. His posture corrected itself and light seemed to return to his eyes. In his normal voice, he lied, "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little hungry."

"Oh, are you sure? Were you and Lilly talking about something weird?" she asked as she began shaking her salad in its container.

"No, we definitely weren't talking about anything weird," he remarked offhand as he stared directly into Miley's blue eyes. There definitely wasn't anything weird about being in love with a girl as beautiful as the one sitting across from him, calmly eating a salad. The soft glow of the food court lights threw playful shines against her dark brown hair, and not for the first time Oliver thanked God that he was allowed to be in her presence.

He was happy to be her best friend. After all, it allowed him to hear her candid thoughts about the world unfiltered by the lie inducing drug known as love. She shared all of her secrets with him, and he could take it if a few of those secrets were centered on another guy. The guy she proclaimed to the world as her boyfriend. It could be a lot worse, after all. He was happy.

Wasn't he?

Sorry for the cliche ending, but I need to go to bed. Thanks for reading. I will see some of you next time.