Story Title: The Beat of My Heart

Plot Synopsis: This story follows Miley, Oliver, Lilly, & Jackson in the course of six months following Lilly's move to Newport Beach the summer before Miley & Oliver's 10th grade year. As she mysteriously returns, it shows what each of the four go threw as old love, new love, secrets & lies are exposed.

Starring: Emily Osment, Jason Earles, Miley Cyrus, & Mitchel Musso

As: Lilly Truscott, Jackson Stewart, Miley Stewart, & Oliver Oken.

With: Shanae Grimes as Harley Parker.

Genre: Drama/Friendship

Rated T For: Sexual content, mild and/or coarse language, drug & alcohol use, and partying, all involving teens.

Story Author: Falling Out Friday

Disclaimer: 'Hannah Montana' and all related titles do not belong to me. Furthermore, the song 'Beat of My Heart' belongs to Hilary Duff. However, Harley Parker, the Blue Stars dance team, and each creative chapter is completely original and copyrighted to me. The end.

PROLOGUE

I'm waking up; to the beat of my, to the beat of my, to the beat of my heart.

I looked out my bedroom window reluctantly as the Californian sun burst threw the glass opening like a bad sign. I look to my left to see Oliver laying beside me. He's peacefully asleep, he looks peaceful. But I feel torn as a pull the throw sheet up with my body and he shifts a little under the main comforter we're both under. I hold the material tight to my chest and lean back on the headboard, looking over at him once more. His chest rises and falls with each quiet breath he takes, and I feel myself frown. He's in love with me, but I'll never love him back. We're having sex. He thinks it means more to me than it actually does.

I refuse to tell him. After all, it'll ruin what I've already destroyed faster. I guess after Lilly moved out to Newport things kinda went south for me. I'm still Hannah, but she's gone down the Britney Spears path. Being a bit more sexy and hip hopish. I don't even need the blonde wig anymore because now my hair's dark brown and heat iron straight. Even if I keep the look twenty four seven, I wear too much make up as Hannah to be noticed. I stand up, walking with the covers over to my window. Sixteen wasn't supposed to be like this. I was not supposed to be sleeping with Oliver, Lilly was not supposed to be living a posh life in Newport.

My head snaps around when Oliver wakes up, and he just stares at me as I stand there looking like a goddess wrapped in nothing but the creamy colored sheets. He stands, walking over to me, and places a chaste kiss on my lips, but I pull away. The thought of his undying love flash by quick and I have this sudden pang of guilt. And I couldn't have felt it two months ago?

I look down, and his forhead is on mine. We push back and forth as we breath. "Oliver...I don't love you."

He looks torn and his face twists, but then he just looks at me pained and nods, silently saying, "I know."

Regardless, he throws me against my bedroom wall and kisses me hard, his hands pressing on my stomach before rubbing down and then just moving wherever they can touch. He walks backwards and we exchange a long chain of hard, heavy kisses as he fall back on the bed. I guess I can go for another round.

---

The beat of my heart; it tears us apart.

When I walk down the stairs a more rebellious looking Jackson greets me at the bar. His hair's slightly longer, but just so it's more shaggish, and he wears a dark blue graphic tee and jeans that hang off his waist a little.

"I'd say Lilly's move didn't change you at all," I say sarcastically.

He glares, sending an accusing glance my way, "Oh, and you having Oliver stay the night frequently isn't a big change, either." What should be a question is a statement, and it comes out flat, unemotional, and cold.

But I've got no room to argue, and nothing left to say, so I send a death look his way before heading towards the fridge. Lilly changed him. They didn't date long, but long enough for Lilly to mysteriously ditch him and everybody else without so much as a goodbye kiss. No one would know where she was if I hadn't called her mom after her week's absence.

"I'm sorry honey, didn't she tell you? She moved to Newport to live with her Aunt & Uncle for a bit. Said she needed time away from things."

Things. Things like my brother who was still in love with her, things like her best friend who was sleeping with me to run away, things like her BFF who was a mess, and Hannah, now stereotype pop star. I settle on having a Rockstar for breakfast. Definitely not healthy, but Daddy's away at the label. He decided to expand and become multiple artists' managers. Maybe that's why I got to get a little more revealing.

As I turn around Oliver comes down the stairs and turns to look at my face and Jackson's back awkwardly. He gives a half smile, and a small wave, and then he's gone out the front door. I wince, and pop open my energy drink, gulping down a bit before I turn to face the back door. I don't want to drive today. I turn back around to face Jackson.

"I want a ride," I tell him.

He opens his mouth to testify, but then just nods yes and grabs his keys, walking out the door. And just like every day, I grab my cell off the counter, my backpack off the floor, and a look at the screen, still checking for the morning call Lilly hasn't delivered since her departure to Newport Beach so long ago.

---

To the rhythm inside; to the beat of my, to the beat of my, to the beat of my heart.

At school I don't see Oliver. Mostly because we try our best to avoid each other, and even more we've gone our separate ways in the social chain. He hangs with the punksters. A group of people who are slightly rebellious with unique styles all their own. They're into skateboarding, & even more into throwing pretty crazy parties, but they live a fast paced life, and I think it's what he does to keep his mind off Lilly. Oliver doesn't know it, but he's loved Lilly long before he loved me. He moved on when she kissed Jackson last 4th of July.

As for me, I hang around with populars. Getting there took a lot. Mostly creating the drill team. We're the Blue Stars, and we've managed to become more popular than the cheerleaders themselves. Therefore, I've got a good selection to chose from in the boy's department, but I haven't yet. People think Oliver and I are an item. I don't really tell them any different. My girl, my new girl, is my rock. Harley Parker. She's a brunette with a killer personality and just the right side of mean to make us an intimidating duo.

At my locker, I get a few whistles from passing guys, and a bunch of hey's from various girls who I've never talked to before. I just wait for Harley to come and walk up to me and discuss this past weekend's events. Things are slightly boring, but never completely lame, but I still wish I was a dorky freshman laughing in the halls with Lilly & Oliver, not a popular sophomore who rules the school along side Harley Parker. But I let the thought pass quickly as Harley pops up by my locker, a red sucker in her mouth, her trademark.

"Hey sexy! How was the weekend? I got no call on Saturday for our mall trip," my taller friend quirked.

You see, Harley's a junior, and she's definitely got a few inches on me. I shut my locker, beginning to walk and talk at the same time.

"Eh, sorry. Got a little sidetracked with other activities," I hinted, making a reluctant face.

She raised and eyebrow, her red pumps making a statement. Thud, thud, thud, thud. A sly smirk appeared on her face, "Oh I got it. Lemme guess? Oliver time ran a little over?"

We laugh, though my heart is not in it, and she tells me all about her weekend, who she hooked up with, all that casual talk. The bell rings and I'm sentenced to homeroom for morning announcements and attendance. I slide into my reserved seat in the back, raising my hand lightly when my name is called towards the end. I flip open my phone looking threw text as the homeroom bell rings it's end and I open a new text box typing three little words.

Why'd you leave?

---

Away away, away away; to the beat of my, to the beat of my heart.

You know, I don't think I've been fair to Oliver all day. I forgot to mention that he's the best damn kisser since Jake Ryan. God, Jake. It's been a long time since I've even thought about my middle school heartthrob. The jerk just had to move on to bigger, better things. Like three back-to-back blockbuster hits. But I'm not spiteful, no. Just so long as he takes those three Oscar's and shoves them right up his...

Lips on neck. I can't help but smile, Oliver's gotten pretty good at this. His hands do a dance down my sides and I just giggle with anticipation. Suddenly, I find myself shirtless and Oliver is the same. Kissing, kissing, more kissing. I get lost whenever we do this (which is frequently). We're going at it on my couch, something until now we hadn't done. And I'm starting to think we should've done it much sooner.

Just then, I hear the door click open and what happens in the following moments seem to flash one after another, like a heartbeat.

"Oh my god."

Bum, bum.

"Where's my shirt?"

Bum, bum.

"Miley!...and Oliver?!"

Bum, bum.

"Lilly?"

Bum, bum.

"Bitch!"

Bum.

Running.

Bum.

Slapping.

Bum.

Yelling.

Bum.

Slamming.

Bum...

---

And then just like that, I find myself alone on my couch, shirtless, and red. Not just because I was just making out with Oliver Oken. Not just because I was caught on the couch (which turned out to be a NOT so good idea).

I just slapped the one reason I was kissing Oliver on the couch, the girl who ditched my brother, the reason I am the way I am. I just slapped Lilly Truscott. And I just did it shirtless.

Yet there's a smile on my face. And I can feel myself laughing. Great, she's made me go completely crazy.

Well, welcome home, BFF.

---

To the beat of my heart; now I'm back to the start.

Footnotes: So, did you like the prologue? School will be starting for me soon, and I get writer's block often, so updates might be spacey, or constantly frequent. This is just introducing you to the story. Each chapter will be in a different character's point of view, and some might even be in third person. Tell me what you think. I can take contructive critisism, but no flames. Until next time.

(c) Falling Out Friday