Chapter II

Alright, since going to Oliver didn't work, it was time for Plan B of Get-Oliver-And-Miley-To-Finally-Admit-They-Like-Each-Other-And-Kiss.

I call it Operation GOAMTFATLEOAK.

Maybe I should come up with a new name for that…

But anyway…

"Hey Miley," I said walking into her room. She was lying on her bed reading Emma, the book we were assigned to read for English, "Bad news."

She put the book to the side and sat up as I took a seat in her spinney chair and started to turn.

"What news?" Miley asked.

"Oliver won't admit he likes you," I stated simply and stopped spinning to see her expression.

She had looked down at her shoes and cleared her throat, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "That's not bad news. It would be kind of awkward if he did admit he liked me."

Awkward.

I don't like that word.

It has two W's. It's abnormal.

"You're not going to admit it either, are you?" I asked.

Miley shrugged. "I'll admit I like me."

Great. Both my friends are smart asses.

"Well, that's always good, but I was talking about you liking Oliver. Now here's my crazy plan: since he won't kiss you, you have to kiss him. I know you don't like making the first move, but you're gonna have to get over that. Maybe then he won't be so afraid to admit his feelings for you. We just have to find the perfect place and time for—stop shaking your head!"

"I-I-I don't like Oliver. Where would you get an idea like that?"

"Well, first of all you stuttered. You only ever stutter when you're hiding something," I pointed out, "And second of all it's just obvious."

"Lilly," she sighed, as if I was an annoying three-year-old, "Please don't push this. I like Oliver as a friend."

Wow.

She almost sounded convincing.

But she must have forgotten who she was talking too.

"Miley, do you remember who you're talking too? I'm your best friend. You're gonna have to lie better than that."

"But I'm not lying," she tried to insist.

She was lying.

She just wasn't going to admit that she was lying.

Damn her and her pride.

"So does this also mean that you won't kiss him?" I asked, putting as much disappointment in my voice as I could manage.

"Hey," Miley said, "Here's a great idea: why don't you kiss him."

Ewe.

I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

"That's not funny," I said, "Moliver sounds so much better than Loliver."

Miley's brow furrowed. "What?"

"You know how celebrity couples always have their celebrity names? Moliver would be yours."

She turned a bright shade of pink. It made me smile.

(((((O)))))

So I was thinking that you could do it after school.

What?

Make a move on Oliver.

You're insane!

And you're blind.

Am not. You're just stubbornly ridiculous.

You can't do that.

Can't do what?

Use stubbornly and ridiculous in the same sentence.

You just did.

Shut up. That's totally different.

How can I shut up? I'm haven't said anything.

You and Oliver have matching sarcasm. You were made for each other.

I'm rolling my eyes at you right now. You. Are. Insane.

I wasn't insane until I decided to do a favor for you and Oliver by getting you together. And you know what?

What?

When this whole thing is over I don't mind being crazy, as long as you and Oliver are making out in a janitors closet when I'm getting picked up by men in white jackets.

I don't have a crush on Oliver!

Every time you say that it brings me one step closer to a straightjacket.

Boo-hoo.

Moliver.

Don't.

Moliver! Moliver, Moliver!

You really need to stop writing that down on paper.

Moliver! Moliver, Moliver, Moliver, MoLiVeR!

(((((O)))))

She tore it up. She took our precious note and tore it up. I leaned over when the teachers back was turned and whispered, "That was rude." She just smiled at me as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger.

But you wanna know some good news? I caught Oliver staring at her.

Woo-hoo!

Plan GOAMTFATLEOAK is working.