AN: I have a confession to make. Last month, while jobless, classless, and trying to get away from my family, I started watching a lot of YouTube. And while watching YouTube, I fell in love with Loliver and Seddie. I'm not proud of it. Not that either are bad shows (well, HM's pretty corny, and Miley grates on my nerves half the time, I have to admit), but I am way too old to be watching this stuff. I really am. I haven't kept up with a show on Disney since Lizzie McGuire ended.
But what's done is done, and now I've fallen for both ships. And in the middle of writing a really angst ridden chapter for one of my long-term fics, I suddenly felt like writing something light. And while it may not be exactly light, because I'm in the wrong age group to get this thing completely down, I think it's sort of cute. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I might extend it to a series of four or five if I get enough interest.
Disclaimer: Do you really think a catchphrase like "Sweet Niblets" was my idea? The hell is a niblet?
There were times Lily missed it. She remembered when it was just them, swapping snacks and drawing on each other with sixty-four different crayon colors. Lily and Oliver. Best friends.
Not that she didn't love Miley. A girl can't get through the teenage years with only a boy to talk to. Who did she talk to about Lucas? Miley. Who did she ask for fashion advice? Miley. Who did she have sleepovers with and trade lip glosses with and watch sappy movies with? All Miley. Because Miley was a best friend, too, and Lily wouldn't change that.
But she hadn't been as sad as usual when Miley had left for a tour last weekend. She missed her quirky little Ollie – that dork, Smokin' Oken. It was hard to get time with only him these days. Drama pervaded the lives of a pop star's BFFs.
They lay on the beach watching the sun drop into the water, their surf boards dug deep into the sand beside them. Lily felt her wetsuit constricting into her skin. She wriggled comfortably into the familiar pull of fabric as it molded into her. She sometimes thought she was meant to be one of those beach bums that spent all their time riding the waves and slept in shacks on the edges of the less touristy shore lines. If beach bums had running water, she was in. She and Oliver could be bums together. Maybe Jackson would be a bum. The slightly insane, drifter sort. They'd have adjoining shacks. Only bums in town to be allowed backstage at a Hannah Montana concert.
Her arms prickled at the touch of the oncoming cool; the water was now being lit more from the pinks and purples of the clouds above than the coppery red of the sun. Sighing, she pumped them up and down, making the top half of a sand angel beneath her.
"Hey, Lily?"
"Yeah?" she asked peacefully.
"You've got something on you."
With an "Eep!" she was on her feet. A black coil of a nasty, unidentifiable creature was attempting to burrow through her suit. With a quick swipe, the coil was snapped off of her and went spinning, airborne, to land on Oliver's neck.
The laughter that had been bubbling in his chest and eyes were replaced with panic. "Getitoff, getitoff, getitoff," he chanted, doing a little jig around himself, craning his head around to see the thing, whatever it was.
"I got it!" Lily proclaimed, rushing up to him, armed with a discarded cardboard coffee cup. Inserting the cup between the coil and his skin, she sent the thing flying morosely back to the sea where it had, presumably, come from.
Oliver shuddered. "I hate nature."
She grinned and poked him in the stomach. "Look at Big O, all afraid of a little sea slug … thing."
He looked down his nose and snorted. "You weren't so brave when it was on you, thank you very much."
"I'm a girl," she told him, shrugging.
He chuckled evilly. "You sure about that?"
His shriek cut across the silence of the beach around them as she grabbed his ear and yanked down. Hard. "Take it back! Take it back!"
"Alright, alright!" As soon as she let go, he stumbled back, rubbing his reclaimed ear gingerly. "You're such a …" Noticing her glare, he changed tact. "A lovely girl who I am lucky to know. Love you, Lily!"
She laughed. "Nice move." The sun was now only an orange slice on a puddle of shimmery, glassy green. "We should head home," she said regretfully, turning to dig out her board.
"I guess." When she turned, Oliver was looking at her thoughtfully. "It sounds really horrible to say, but I'm kinda glad Miley's on tour. We never hang out anymore. You know. Just you and me."
"Awww. Even when I flick stuff on you?"
"It's not my favorite part of the friendship," he deadpanned. "But yes."
"I miss you, too" she admitted. "It's just hard …"
"Because Miley's life can get pretty complicated sometimes?" Oliver grinned. "I wonder if Superman's friends had the same problem."
They fell in step on the wandering path back up to the boardwalk. Shadows were forming in the crevices of the hills where sparse patches of grass grew. Lily couldn't help but love her hometown at that moment. And wonder how she could make that deep purple by that bush over there into a nail polish color.
A dip in the path interrupted her thoughts – that new Lily Lilac polish she'd made back in May with that dark blue Miley had mixed a few weeks ago – and sent her stumbling down into a pole. A second later, Oliver came crashing down beside her, banging her shin with his board.
"Hey!" Knowing that she was being childish because her leg was throbbing, and not really caring, she brought her own board down on his wetsuit-clad back, resulting in a loud, slurping THWACK!
"What the …" Oliver reeled backward, then pitched forward, wielding his board like club. She sidestepped him neatly, landing another hit as he went sailing by. He turned back around, doing that weird girly yell thing he did, and managed to catch Lily's elbow.
She grabbed her elbow and glared. "Owww …" she cried pitifully. And dipped down to reach for his ear again.
Except this time, she got his neck. Which meant she pulled his face really close to hers.
It was awkward, standing over Oliver, holding his neck like that. She sort of wished she could think of something to say. Like, if his breath stank or something, she could tease him about it, and he'd swat her away, and then they'd keep heading home.
Except his breath didn't really have any kind of smell, and she couldn't think of anything else to say.
Oliver was looking at her in a really strange way. It was the same look he had in Algebra when he figured out a problem she hadn't finished with yet. She opened her mouth to ask him what was wrong with him.
Then he kissed her.
Lily had read a lot of teen romance books, so while she had relatively little experience with kissing, she knew that this kiss wasn't anything earth-shattering. If anyone had passed by and seen them right then, they wouldn't be shouting at them to get a room or anything. It was just a light brush of his lips against hers.
But she felt like, even if she'd kissed more than three guys in her entire life, she'd still be rocked by this. A shiver passed from her lips down to her toes curled up in the sand and back up again. It took her a second to realize that it wasn't a cold shiver. It was warm. Electric.
They pulled away and looked at each other. And he looked so sweet, blushing a little bit and wearing a goofy smile that cut his face in half, that she couldn't help leaning down to kiss him again.
This lasted a little longer – not much, by the usual TV or movie standards, but enough to turn that shiver in a hot shudder.
When they pulled away again, she could feel her own face split in half. It was a head rush, kissing Oliver Oken.
Oliver Oken. Smokin' Oken. Big O. Ollie.
Her best friend.
Oh, God.
Simultaneously they sprung away from each other, both blushing madly and babbling like maniacs.
"We should …"
"It's getting late …"
"And the homework …"
"So much homework …"
"Yeah …"
"This never happened?" she asked, just to be sure.
"Never," he confirmed.
Lily didn't know if she was relieved or not, but it kept things simple, and she really couldn't wrap her head around this right now.
"So … I'll go home now," she said, and started back up the path that they'd come from.
"Isn't your home the same way as mine?" Oliver called as she trudged back up the sandy slope and away from the populated side of the beach.
"It's fine!" she shouted back with a huge cheeriness. Because right now, she would've walked all the way around Malibu to make sure she didn't spend another minute with Oliver.
Stupid sunset. Stupid beach. Stupid hometown. If she lived in Minnesota or whatever, this never would've happened.
Miley. She couldn't wait for Miley to come home now. It was obvious that it dangerous to leave the two of them all alone if she wanted them to stay Lily and Oliver. Just best friends.
AN: This was pretty much all done listening to "Hotel Paper" by Michelle Branch. I hope her next CD is a little less country. Anyway. Love? Hate? Review!