"Hey, Lilly, go long!" I followed Oliver's request, and ran down the beach. As the football sailed toward me I caught it without a problem. I tossed it back to Oliver, who had to run backwards to catch it. He ran so far backwards, he accidently ran into a garbage can, and fell. A normal person would go over, and see if he was okay, but me and Oliver's friendship isn't exactly normal. Since he's getting up, and not bleeding, I start laughing.

"Thanks, Lils," Oliver said sarcastically. He tried to act all mad, but I saw the smile creeping onto his face.

"No problem," I answered in my pretend sweet voice. Oliver playfully pushed me, and I pushed him back twice as hard.

"Dude, that hurt!" Oliver rubbed his arm.

Ugh! I hate when he calls me "dude" I never used to mind it, but now it just annoys me.

"I have to go home for dinner," I told Oliver

"Oh," he answered, slightly quieter. "Wanna hang tomorrow?"

"Yea," I reply, "but it's going to rain, so we can't come to the beach."

"Oh, well. Bye, Lilly"

"See ya!" I walked home, as I remembered that Miley's sleeping over tonight. Miley has been my best friend since the sixth grade. She, Oliver and I are like the three musketeers. The only thing is that Miley is busy a lot. She's secretly Hannah Montana, the most famous pop star under the age of eighteen. It was a huge shock to me and Oliver at first, but by now we're used to it. She only keeps her identity a secret, because she wants to live a normal life. Oliver and I don't usually mind that she's not home that much. We usually surf, or play video games, which in my opinion, is much better than shopping or getting my nails done.

I ate my dinner of left over ziti, and went to my room. I plopped down on my bed, and wondered if Miley would be here soon. As if on cue, my door bell rang.

"Hey, Miley," I said as I opened the door.

"Hi," she replied.

Of course, Miley insisted on watching "The Notebook" for the billionth time. So, she "Awwwwws" every five seconds, while I stare into space absentmindedly, and snicker at the movie's cheesy lines. After enduring this, I beg her to watch "Bride of Chucky".

"No way!" Miley squeals. "Too scary!" I figure it wouldn't be worth arguing, so I shut off the TV. Miley pulls out her make-up bag and I groan.

"You already made me watch 'The Notebook'! No make-up!"

"Please," pleads Miley, putting on her best puppy dog face.

"No," I answer, not giving in. I hate make-up. I really do.

"Then, can I do your hair?"

"NO!" I'm not very comfortable with stuff like this. Dresses and makeovers aren't really my thing. I mean, I know I'm not hideous, but I just don't feel pretty. I have boring darkish blonde hair and plain blue eyes. Anything besides jeans, tee shirts, and sports uniforms just looks too weird and girly on me.

"Come on, Lilly!" Miley will not let this go, will she?

"No, just leave me alone!" I know that was pretty harsh, but she really knows how to get on my nerves.

"Fine," says Miley, finally giving up. We spend the rest of the night pigging out on chips, and talking about guys in our school. Actually, Miley is doing all the talking, while I occasionally nod and look somewhat interested.

Somewhere around three in the morning, we drift off to sleep.