A/N: Hello, everyone. I'm reposting my Christmas story over the next week because it was deleted right before Christmas (unfortunately) and I never got to finish it. But, I didn't want people to miss out on it, or not get an ending, so enjoy. And if you haven't read it yet, then give it a chance, and I hope you'll like it. I worked really hard on it, and if it turns out people still want to read it, i'll finish. Otherwise, it's backburner 'til next Christmas. Reviews are appreciated. c:

Four hours left of Thanksgiving.

An assortment of boxes (Chinese) filled with rice and chicken and noodles covered the portable formica tray in the expansive yet empty living room, courtesy of Ed's Chinese Palace on 45th Street. Not the traditional dinner to be had on the third Thursday of November. Those dinners normally involve friends and family gathering together to help consume the turkey (stuffed), cranberry sauce (canned), and dessert (homemade). Traditionally, of course. However, for the fourth year running, Lilly Truscott's thanksgiving had evolved into takeout (insert foreign dish here) food and watching the Macy's Day parade from the window of her Manhattan loft.

Had someone told Lilly five years ago that this would be her future, she certainly would've been shocked, not to mention a little disappointed. Hell, she would've had that reaction as to a month before she'd even actually moved across the country, when she'd never even considered moving out of Malibu, much less to the east coast. But now, as she sat on her burgundy Ikea couch, eating chicken lo mien, and watching (but not really watching) The Godfather, Lilly knew she had grown accustomed, and quite attached, to this Thanksgiving tradition.

After only one week of being eighteen, Lilly wanted to move to the East coast for college. Determined to leave California, Lilly decided to attend NYU, and by the time she was in her last year of higher education, she managed to start paying for her Manhattan loft, which was now fully fixed up. At first, moving had been a drastic change all around. Climate. People. Life. But for Lilly it seemed time. The first year she managed to visit Malibu for the holidays, mainly to appease Miley and her fear that they would drift apart.

Then again, as Lilly's decision to move changed her life, everyone else's decisions changed their own lives as well. In a way they had all moved on from how things used to be, metamorphosizing their old lives. Miley moved back to Tennessee where she began a country artist career, and Oliver went to Reeds College in Portland because he had what he always referred to as "connections," even making the air quotes with his fingers, and Lilly's mom had Al. Also known as Lilly's stepfather. It wasn't as if Lilly didn't like him. In fact, the only thing she didn't like was his name. It was just that Al, along with the baby he and her mom shared, was the focal point of her mom's new life, whereas Lilly was in the background like an extra, a static character, which she was surprisingly okay with. Her mom was crazy about Al. She deserved her happiness.

After the first year of visiting home, it was too expensive and not the way life was when she was younger. It was time to move on, and to Lilly, going back home for Christmas that year was the last nail on the coffin of her past. So the next year she spent it alone. At first, being alone during the holidays was difficult, but it was the year that Lilly fell completely in love with snow and winter in New England. Besides, being on her own gave Lilly a sense of independence. After school, Lilly got a dog and a job at a newspaper.

Lilly sat in her now complete apartment, avoiding her editor's repetitive calls reminding her of a deadline, blowing her short, wispy bangs out of her eyes, listening to Marlon Brando, and tracing over the seven digits on the small piece of paper with her finger, oscillating between calling him, or avoiding him for the next five years.

*****

It was possibly the most outrageous wedding in New Jersey and definitely the most outrageous wedding Lilly had ever been to. White roses in hundreds of ornately carved glass vases strategically placed around each pew, draped in lace, silk, and foreign fabrics that Lilly couldn't even begin to pronounce. Petals of the same flower scattered down the long carpeted aisle leading to the main focus of the room in the pristine white chapel - the altar. It was the crooked smile of Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, tying the entire room together with a white-iron wrought trellis threaded throughout with green stems attached to the only color standing out against the bleach-white-Mr. Clean-would-be-proud-of-room. Rich, crimson-stained roses were the backdrop of the setting where Lilly would be standing in less than twenty-four hours, fulfilling her duty as best friend and maid of honor. The entire place was ridiculously gorgeous, yet completely over the top. Then again that was-

"Miley?" Lilly asked.

"Yeah," the made up brunette replied mindlessly as she watched the small Chinese lady across the table polish her last acrylic nail.

Lilly looked over the entire picture that was the wedding room outside the dressing room doorway. a Kodak moment of perfection. Everything seemed incredibly breathtaking and pure.

"Is Iron Chef really making your cake?"

"And Project Runway is making my dress." Lilly's mouth slightly opened in disbelief as Miley corrected, "Well, made - technically. It's perfect."

Lilly smirked affectionately at her best friend.

"Of course it is. it wouldn't be a Miley Stewart event without going all out, would it?"

"Right," Miley laughed in agreement.

"I mean," Lilly mentioned, "This is going to put all those cheesy Hollywood wedding movies to shame. My Best Friend's Wedding. 27 Dresses. Made of Honor."

Miley smiled, genuinely happy. "Yeah. Because I'm marrying my best friend. Patrick Dempsey couldn't drag me away on his best day."

The Chinese woman gave Miley her hand back as she added her own heavily accented opinion in. "And that Hannah Montana couldn't drag him back either," She smiled.

Lilly and Miley exchanged knowing glances. Miley had ended Hannah Montana while managing to never give up her secret. That was five years ago and after Nick had found out, so she could begin her own way in country music, and to make being with Nick easier. Six years after their first date, and they were getting married.

Lilly was happy for them both, and a little jealous of Miley's luck of ending up with the good Jonas. Lilly was just a little unsure how much she'd regret after this whole wedding thing.

'Maybe,' she thought, 'I could just skip out on the dinner rehearsal and just spend the actual wedding day with Miley. Leave early from the reception,' She quietly did the math in her head and figured, 'It'd be a little over three hours in my too-tight, strapless, prom-like, shin-high, red-red dress, and I could hit the road back to my loft of solitude.'

Miley eyed Lilly suspiciously. "You're not planning on skipping the dinner tonight, are you?" Miley accused. "Because it's at 6:30. Sharp." Miley reminded Lilly.

"What? Pshh...no!" Lilly said unconvincingly.

Miley tilted her head to the side, deciding how to best word her question without upsetting the delicate mental balance that was her friend, Lilly.

"You're..this isn't-ahem-about Joe, is it?" Miley's face tensed before she began rambling, "Because I know you guys haven't talked in years and the last time was, you know, but you guys were friends at one point in time and I really need you there tonight-"

As Miley had been rambling, Lilly's face looked somewhat despondent for a split second, but swiftly regaining composure, she interrupted Miley, saying a bit more believably, "No."

Miley was impressed with Lilly's conviction, and though she knoew Lilly hadn't really convinced either of them, she let her continue on with her little diatribe.

"Miley," Lilly said slowly, holding Miley's shoulders to emphasize her point, "It has nothing to do with Joe." Miley noticed the slight wince Lilly unconsciously gave off at merely speaking his name. "Nothing -no one- could keep me from showing up in a ridiculous dress, that'll have me freezing, on your big day. Besides," Lilly let go of Miley's shoulders and crossed her arms, returning to the topic of Joe, "it's been almost five years. I do like to credit myself at 22 with some ability to let things go." Lilly smiled reassuringly.

Miley didn't mention that their relationship was almost two years long, Lilly cried every night for weeks after he left, she moved across the country (though she'd never actually admit it) to escape the memories, and in the past four and a half years none of Lilly's relationships have lasted more than five months. No, Miley didn't mention any of that.

"So I'll see you at 6:30?" Miley asked expectantly.

"Sharp." Lilly rolled her eyes in mock irritation and smiled. Looking at her watch. Lilly gasped and said while rushing out the door, "I better go get dressed. I'll meet you back here."

"At-"

"Six thirty sharp!" Lilly finished shouting, groaning dramatically.

"Don't forget to wear your dress!" Miley called after Lilly.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!" Lilly cried. "Where's my shoe?" She yelled at no one in her hotel room, frantically searching for the mate to her size seven red wedge heel. Giving up hope for a few minutes to fix her hair, Lilly ran into the bathroom.

"Six thirty-nine!?" Lilly exclaimed, glancing down at her watch. There was an abandoned shoe beneath the view of her wrist.

"In the sink?"

Lilly shrugged. She looked at her hair in it's messy, honey-colored bun and thought, 'It'll have to do.'

"Where's Lilly?" Oliver asked Miley, ignoring the shaking head and neck-slashing warning signs he was getting from Nick standing behind her.

Miley's face embodied the anger her voice had managed to contain. She smiled sweetly and said, "Wherever she is, she better be dead or dying. She promised she wou-"

"Here!" Lilly shouted scrambling into the room, out of breath, "Miley I am so sorry I'm...late." She uttered the last word senselessly as she caught his eyes locked on her.

'Great,' she thought, 'Great impression to make on an ex five years post breakup. Flush-faced, dishevel haired girl with the inability to use the English vocabulary. Way to show him what he's really missing, Lilly." Sarcastically reprimanding herself in her head.

Lilly lowered her voice so only Miley could hear, "Can I talk to you," Lilly jerked her head violently towards the door, "in there?" She emphasized the last word seriously.

Before Miley could reluctantly agree, Lilly was shoving her out of the door and before closing it, she addressed the entire room, looking at anyone but Joe, and said, 'If I don't make it out alive...give me a funeral half this beautiful and make sure my eulogy proves how truly amazing I was. Nick," she she turned to him, "You're good with words, right? Make me sound great. Bathing stray dogs, helping old people cross streets. All that good stuff." Lilly grinned. "I've gotta go meet my maker now," and she ran out the door.

"And...scene." Nick joked, looking at Joe to gauge his reaction to Lilly, but as usual, Joe was impossible to read. Whatever emotions were running through his head were not playing out on his face.

"Man, I've missed that girl," Oliver laughed.

Then Nick did see Joe's face change. It was confusion, and Nick knew why. (p.s. Explained later)

"This better be really. Really. Good." Miley stared at Lilly.

"It..is." Lilly was unsure of her excuse just yet. Her mind was unable to function, still preoccupied with seeing Joe again. How he'd managed to have more composure than her was beyond Lilly. It's not like she hadn't seen him as long as he hadn't seen her. She watched him (involuntarily, that is) in the media. With other celebrities. Mostly of the opposite sex. Yet pictures in the magazines didn't convey exactly how much he'd matured, his jawline more defined - along with the rest of his body, Lilly noted. Or maybe not. Maybe he hadn't changed at all. Pictures in magazines may have torn out sutures in Lilly's somewhat mended heart, but pictures in magazines didn't give Lilly that inexplicable tug in her heart, or the trembling, overpowerful one in the core of her stomach. Not to the degree he himself did, at least. Lilly mind traced over his features slowly. His hair was shorter with maturity, yet still long enough to cover is far-too-intense eyes, his jawline making Lilly more than vaguely remember once being the one whose fingers would trail that same plane, creating a lazy path to his lips, and Lilly was already unwillingly feeling things again and if someone didn't stop her thoughts, Lilly was going to commit herself.

"It's Joe, isn't it?" Miley asked matter-of-factly, snapping Lilly out of her all too thought-provoking trance.

"Wha-Why would you say that?"

"Because whenever someone even mentions his name, you flinch like your being tazed," Miley crossed her arms, the way she did when she knew she was right. "And I've seen that look on your face before." Miley added, concerned.

Lilly went against denying it. After all, Miley was the one who'd initially helped her pick up the pieces of the broken two year relationship that Joe'd left behind. Then again, Miley was the one who'd brought her and Oliver together afterwards, and that definitely wasn't Miley's best work, even though she was only trying to help Lilly, it was way too soon. Still, Lilly's pride wasn't too high on it's horse to deny Miley.

"It's just," Lilly thought about the best way to say what she wanted without sounding like the martyr, "He was the only person I loved that much, that...intensely. You know?" Lilly paused, letting the wave of some undefined emotion was over her and dissipate, before continuing. "It's just...it's hard. Seeing him again. I mean the last time I saw him-in person-I wasn't exactly on top of the world. You know that." Lilly laughed to ease the seriousness of her speech.

Miley knew that. She remembered the phone call. Lilly asking if she could come over for awhile. How until Miley asked what was wrong for the thirteenth time Lilly's face was blank, devoid of any emotion. Miley was mored afraid of that Lilly than the broken one who'd sobbed into her pillow that night quietly when she thought Miley was asleep. At least the second was some sort of feeling and not the mask she remembered Lilly wearing for the longest time afterwards. She remembered one of the only things Lilly'd said to her about it. "He stopped loving me, Miley. He didn't die. He didn't have to move. He stopped loving me. God. He didn't even stop loving me because he never told me he loved me to begin with. What do I do?" Miley remembered all of that.

Finally speaking, Miley said understandingly, "If you can't be here, it's fine, Lill-"

"No, Miley." Lilly interrupted. "I'm fine. Really. i wouldn't have told you I'd be here for you if I couldn't take seeing Joe." Lilly managed to form her lips around his name without being noticeably affected by it, but couldn't help thinking to herself as Miley led her back to the dining hall.

'Come on, Lilly.' she told herself. 'You are over him. You are over him.' Repeating the mantra to herself, Lilly walked back in and hugged people she hadn't seen in years.

"Hey Mr. Stewart!" She hugged him tightly, missing all the years she'd spent with Miley and Oliver. She reached over to Oliver, who smiled at her in the always goofy way he used to, "Hey stranger." She said hesitantly.

"C'mere." He laughed. Pulling her into a huge bear hug, rocking her and saying quietly, " 'Bout time you showed up."

She shoved him playfully, knowing this was his way of telling her they were still friends, and she was relieved. She'd missed Oliver, and calling him every now and again had turned into calling about once every six months. She hoped he hadn't held a grudge against her and was glad to find he hadn't.

She successfully managed to avoid Joe the rest of the night, busy catching up with everyone. But the next day would prove to be a little more difficult.