(Hey guys! It's Reluctant-Daughter or it was. See, I've decided to change my name to Im-Not-That-Girl13. It's from Wicked the Musical. And it's the song lyrics for this fic. SO as you can tell I don't own that. Nor do I own Hannah Montana – though I'd love to own Jackson. So enjoy and pleeeeeeaaaaaaaaseeeeeeeee review it… If you want to an' all. Speaking words will be in italics. Lyrics in "" and underlined. Other things that I saw important are bold. I thought I should clarify that fer ya'll! Okay then! See ya soon!)
She sat; watching him from a distance, yet close enough to touch him. Her eyes drunk him in, like usual. His golden eyes held his humor, and his long, gentle, coffee-colored hair ruffled in the breeze. College life fit him oh-so well. After high school was over, he too, allowed that old life to die. He grew older, wiser, more mature, and girls, then, began to finally notice him more. Making him ignore her.
Ignore her emerald gaze that seemed to dance when he was near.
Ignore her soft, light toffee-colored locks that appeared to change everyday.
Ignore her smile that began to fade each time he was with someone else.
Two years had flown by. The two of them had been slowly, sadly, drifting apart. They passed each other in the halls and courtyards without even a chance of a muttered 'hello'. He would stop in the coffee shop, ordering the same drink every Tuesday and Thursday, only when she worked. She would stop in the local bookstore, buying yet another, somewhat useless, book to help her with her photo-journalism degree, just to watch him flirt, just to stop the tears from escaping yet again. Nothing mattered to him when the topic landed on her.
She was going to show him. Finally, her boss had accepted the idea of a night of free-lance music… Friday Open Mic Night. He was bound to come in with the newest arm candy – predictable as always. She would show him that night, what two years of singing lessons could do.
He finally walked in, around 8:13, with the "perfect" girl wrapped in his tight embrace. Long golden, wavy tresses and baby blue eyes; she was the timeless personification of beauty. Her mouth went dry, hands clammy, and knees knocking. She took swift, slightly calming breathes and then walked to the stage. Her eyes watched his light up with shock and remembrance as she sat down on the stool. She heaved an inaudible sigh and allowed the music to start up and seep into her whole being.
"Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl.
He could be that boy,
But I'M NOT THAT GIRL."
Hazel eyes locked with green. He slowly swallowed in his throat as the simple words reached his ears. She gave a small, barely visible smile and relaxed in her seat on the stage.
"Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
Don't remember that rush of joy
He could be that boy
I'M NOT THAT GIRL."
She watched, as he wanted to stand, wanted to leave, so very badly. But his date didn't, and she seemed to implore him, begging him to sit and listen.
"Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in."
Her eyes watched him squirm in his seat. The smile widened into a satisfactory smirk. He was uncomfortable and he knew that she knew. She sighed and took a deep breath. This was her favorite part for some insane, but completely sane, reason.
"Blithe smile, lithe limb Don't wish, don't start
She who's winsome, she wins him
Gold hair with a gentle curl
That's the girl he chose
And Heaven knows
I'M NOT THAT GIRL.
Wishing only wounds the heart
I wasn't born for the rose and the pearl
There's a girl I know
He loves her so
I'M NOT THAT GIRL.
Lily Truscott hastily stood up, tipping over the stool she had been sitting on only moments ago. So many new emotions flooded her as she leapt off the stage and fled the room, terrified. Softly reassuring his date that he'd be right back, Oliver Oken ran after his old companion. Turning her to face him, Oliver sighed.
"What was that in there, Lil?"
"Nothing. It was nothing. Okay?"
"No, not okay. Explain that. Explain this whole thing."
Lily frowned, eyes never looking at him as they spoke for the first time in two, lonely years.
"It was just a song. There's really nothing to explain about it."
Oliver scoffed and shook his head, making Lily wince as his neck popped from shaking his head so hard.
"No… Lily, I got the meaning of it. And I mean the real, true meaning of it. No lie."
"You-you did? I-I… I was just singing 'cause I liked it."
"Cm'on Lily, don't lie. Are you the girl in the song? The one that isn't loved?"
Lily blinked, utterly shocked. How had the Oliver she once knew get that? How did he figure it out? She sighed, letting her shoulders slump.
"Well? Is the girl you?"
"Yes."
"Who's the guy? Lily… Hey. Who's the boy in the song?"
Tears sprang from her vividly green eyes as his hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly. Her voice seemed to stop working altogether for a moment and she could only stutter.
"It's me, isn't it? I'm the guy that doesn't notice. Well? Lily, damn it, answer me!"
"Yes! Fuck, Oliver… Yes - the guy is you… Does that make it better? Knowing that I fucking love you? Well!? Does it!?"
Oliver's hands gradually dropped down to his side, and he shook his head, trying to clear away the confusion. The denial that he had built up had been crushed and it tumbled down into a heap of nothingness.
"I thought, once, that I loved you too. But… I don't anymore. I'm sorry."
Watching him walk away from her, march out of her life forever, Lily's sobs slowly began to subside. Wiping away the bitter saltwater on her cheeks, she stood straight once more and pulled back on her façade.
"Don't wish, don't start
Wishing only wounds the heart.
I wasn't born for the rose and pearl.
There's a girl I know.
- God… - He loves her so.
I'M NOT THAT GIRL."