'Is
this really my idea?
I had no clue, that all of this was really
happening…'
Mom was still calling up the stairs for me. "Lilly? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine mom!"
I squeezed my eyes shut. Tight.
My heart was thudding weightlessly. It felt like it was going to detach itself from my chest and float away. I just skated here all the way from Miley's house, in three minutes and some seconds. Walking, it took about fifteen.
I lay on the bed, my fingers twirling along my stomach, one arm tucked behind my head.
I thought back to how she moaned in the middle of the night when I wasn't sleeping. Just imagining the sound of it made me feel the usual adrenaline rush I experience whenever does something sexy. For as sweet and innocent as that girl seems, she has a lot of sex appeal and the funny thing is she doesn't even know it.
I scoffed out loud at myself, and whipped around to punch my pillow. Twice, three times. I punched and punched for a few minutes, even though my knuckles kept connecting with the metal bars of my bed's headboard through the pillow. But I didn't care. It hurt, but I didn't stop.
When I finally did, I examined my knuckles. They turned red as blood rushed to them, and I saw some cherry red nicks.
I exhaled deeply and flopped back down on the navy blue comforter.
I wasn't satisfied. In fact, I felt tears rise to my eyes but I blinked them in. A sore lump rose in my throat, almost painfully.
…when my stomach twists and I have a stupid, goofy grin on my face, which appears when Miley is even just in the same room as I am… I just, I feel so good. I feel like nothing can ruin the moment; even if it's raining outside, even if I'm having a shitty day, even if a tornado is spinning towards me… When I see that girl, when she sees me, I feel a happiness I never knew I could feel…
I think about how I feel for her. I actually let out a chuckle when I think of how when I gaze at her really hard or bite my lip in self-restraint or have such a huge smile on my face I can't even feel my cheeks, she doesn't even notice.
My heart sinks as I realize she never sees because she never looks. And she doesn't look because she's not fascinated with me in the way I am with her.
I felt a tear slide across the bridge of my nose, and clutched a pillow to me as I lay on my side.
-
"You're a tru-u-ue friend…"
The crowd erupted into more cheers that made my ears scream with ringing. Miley throws up her arms as if to contain them all from mid-air, and they quiet down.
"That last song was dedicated to my true friend, Lola! Get your butt out here, girl!"
I jogged out onto the stage—I kind of love it when Miley does this, but also hate it. I don't look out all the billions of eyes trained on me, but instead skim over the back wall and wave an arm. More cheers. For me.
Miley laced her fingers with mine and lifted my arm to the far away ceiling obscured by the web of spotlights, and I broke into a full grin. She grabbed my hand. I looked at the fans-some older kids, a bunch of little girls.
I didn't even hear her goodbye before she led me off stage. I felt nothing but her hand in mine as I waved goodbye to the audience.
Miley let go of my hand as we walked down a narrow hall, members of the stage crew and background dancers patting her on the back, and my heart sank. Everyone gathered together and we did our hands-in success circle done after every show, and Miley and I continued to her dressing room.
I shut the door behind us but I could still hear the muffled talking of everyone backstage. Miley began dabbing the sweat off her face and taking off her wig.
"That was great, Miles! Geez, you're more talented than my whole family put together."
"Thanks, Lil, but I have to disagree."
"And why is that?" I crashed on the couch, waiting to hear her compliment me.
"Well, there are plenty of people in your family, I'm sure one of them has to be pretty good at something."
I crinkled a brow, waiting for her to go on and say that would be me.
"And which one would that be?" I know I was fishing for compliments, but I was confused.
"I don't know, whoever…" She was checking herself in the mirror and touching up her make-up.
I squinted at her in the mirror, waiting for her to turn and respond to my eyes.
She glanced at me, but then right back at herself.
"Why are you re-doing your makeup?" I asked.
"Uh… because?" She was concentrating on drawing her eyeliner on.
"It's not like you need it,"
She didn't answer. Did she not catch the sincerity in my voice?
I waited for her to answer. She didn't for a couple minutes.
When she finally turned to walk to the closet, I changed the subject again. "Damn, did you see that guy practically drooling over you in the front row?"
After a moment she said, "With the sweater vest?" from across the room.
"Yeah"
"Yeah, no, faux-geek isn't my type."
"I'm not faux. Or geek."
She ignored my comment. Was she upset or something?
She returned to the large vanity and began reattaching the wig—we did have to exit in disguise—and I asked if she was okay.
"Yeah, fine."
She sounded fine, too.
"Like… geeky guy in the front row fine?"
"No," she answered sternly.
"Like… Lola Luftnagle fine?"
She set her blonde hair in place over her shoulders and said in a distressed voice, "Lilly…" like my mother does when I bring home a report card with no A's or B's on it.
So I dropped it.
She was packing her purse up and I was confused. "We're leaving?" Because sometimes we chilled back here after a show.
"Yeah."
Something had to be wrong. "Do you have somewhere to go after this, or…"
"No, Lilly," she practically spat. What the hell?
I stayed quiet until she was done getting her stuff together and followed her out of the room, into the limo, and back to my house. She didn't even ask me to sleep over.
-
I didn't really notice that I wormed my way into my 'comfort zone'—fluffy robe, halfway through a carton of Ben & Jerry's and onto the couch, watching TV but not really watching it—until Oliver walked in and said, "What's wrong with you?"
How pathetic is it to be so caught up in your thoughts you don't even realize how upset you are?
"Uh… nothing…" Wow, even my voice sounded sad. Then again, it was the first time I spoke all day and its three in the afternoon.
"Are you sure it's nothing? Because you're watching TV in your fluffy robe and I know what that usually means."
"What does that usually mean?" I put another spoonful of Phish Food in my mouth. Yum.
"Either someone broke your heart, rejected you, insulted you, forgot big plans with you, or you got in a fight with me, Miley, or your mom. Which is it?"
Wow. Like I said—the kid isn't the brightest thing around, but we've been together for so long he knows everything about me.
I mumbled, "None of them," even though in a way, most of them fit the bill.
Oliver gave me a strange look and nodded, and flopped onto the couch. He slipped the spoon from my hands and invaded my container of ice cream.
I let him.
We watched show after show and episode after episode, only to get up to get food, barely speaking any more than five words until it was dark out and Oliver said it he should head home.
He said bye and I said bye and I watched him get up and walk over to the door, and as his hand rested on the door, he turned to me.
"Miley could never, ever hate you," he said carefully, "especially not for something you can't help, like this whole thing. Feel better, skater girl."
I smiled as his lanky figure vanished out the door.
-
About two days later, I met up with Oliver and the guys at the skate park. And day after day I returned, even if it wasn't with them. Skating was getting Miley off my mind for the most part, and when it wasn't, it still felt good to be exercising and burning off the thoughts in some way.
I know the strange little occurrence in her dressing room wasn't all that heart-shattering, but Miley was breaking my heart without even trying. Or knowing.
And the worst part was, I was mad at her for it. Just a little bit. Especially on Christmas day, when I received a complete new skateboard, the exact shirts I was checking out at the mall over the past month, a cute new Hollister hoodie, and other nice things, I couldn't be happy because I knew what I really wanted.
And I would never have it.
More skating, more bruises, more scrapes, and it was New Year's Eve and I was at Oliver's. Miley wouldn't be here—she was on a Holiday Hannah tour. She sent me a couple texts, some of them asking for me to come with her on the tour, others chock full of apology, but I just ignored them, throwing my phone on some surface away from me whenever her name showed up on my phone.
Was that wrong of me?
It was around ten-o-clock and Oliver's house was flooded with all the kids from school. Some were already wasted and playing pong, as it was BYOB—Oliver's mom would freak if she even knew her son was throwing parties, letting alone sharing her booze—others out back sitting around, a few pairs sucking each other's faces off, and everyone else in clusters sprinkled throughout the halls and stairs and rooms.
And that's when Miley walked through the door, and my heart cracked and pounded and I was suddenly flushed with anger all at once.
The guys standing before me as I leaned back against the counter all began high-fiving, and I wanted to whip back around and glare at them, but shit, I almost forgot how pretty Miley was and I really just needed to drink her all in.
The way my stomach fluttered almost felt refreshing, and I was so mesmerized by everything Miley that by the time she appeared right before me and began babbling an apology, I just shushed her and told her it was okay and that she did nothing to be sorry for. She had just been PMSing, after all.
Oliver approached us and suggested we all play some Truth or Dare, for a fun little throwback, so we collected people and sat in a circle and I was next to Miley and I felt like I was on some kind of high as our knees touched and she smiled as some girl said something to her.
An empty beer bottle was placed in the center of us on the kitchen floor, and at first the game was slightly boring, but then, of course, it got interesting. Janie Aims made out with the side of Oliver's mom's fish tank, Mikey Peeler ran through the house with his shirt tied around his head and jelly smeared all over his torso, two kids were sentenced to a full fledged make out, Molly James really did get with that sub last month, Parker and Holly never hooked up, to contrary belief, and eventually the bottle had to land on one of us (as in me, Miley, or Oliver,) and it happened to be Miley.
"Truth, or dare?" Matt Marshall asked her. Miley was wary of taking truth, and I could tell she was feeling a little audacious tonight, so I wasn't surprised when she chose 'dare.'
"Alright, I dare you… to make out with…."
My brain froze. Matt's eyes flickered around the circle and settled on me.
Jesus Christ, this was it, this was it! I was finally going to kiss Miley! No, more than that. Her tongue was going to be in my mouth. I wonder if she'll think I'm a good kisser, because I know she'll—
"Ryan."
Wait. What?
Miley chuckled and said, "Okay," and relocated over to the hazel eyed, charcoal colored wavy haired junior, and my heart thudded in my ears and the surface of my face. How, I didn't know, but why? I was pretty sure.
I watched as she descended into him and tilted her head and it began rotating and I redirected my eyes to the bottle in front of me, still pointing at where Miley had been seated, and I really couldn't watch this.
It felt like ten minutes passed, even though it was only about one minutes, by the time Miley sat back down next to me, and as Miley was thinking of something to make Joanie do, I stood up silently and made for the back door.
I should have said I'd be right back or something, but why lie?
-
I was being a baby, but as I walked down the sidewalk further and further away from Oliver's, I couldn't help but keep moving.
I seem to be running away a lot when it comes to Miley. And it's strange, because when I do this, I just want to turn around and go back and be with her. Whenever I try to get away from her, I only want to be with Miley even more.
Tears were streaming down my face, and I swiped them away with my sleeve quickly.
"Lilly!" I heard someone shout.
Of course, it was the one person I truly wanted to see, but I wasn't going to let that show. I kept walking. One foot in front of the other.
"Lilly!"
I walked slower—I wasn't even making myself. I just did.
Miley eventually swerved around in front of me, bringing me to a halt by gripping my shoulders.
"Hey, where are you going?" She asked, all out of breath, dipping low to gaze into my hung face.
"Um," I cleared my throat, but I still sounded a little shaky. "I felt like I had to throw up and," it was becoming routine for me to look anywhere but in her eyes, "I really didn't want it to happen at the party, so… I just decided to go home. Tell Oliver I said bye and sorry for me, okay?"
I tried to rip away from her and brush by, but she hooked her arm through mine and I was rejoicing on the inside.
"Hold your horses there, girly—I can't let you leave, then it would be pointless for me to stay. Do you still feel like you're gonna throw up?"
I looked into her eyes. The cobalt swirls were embedded with a sense of compassion and sympathy. She peered into my eyes and after a second she asked in a light, thoughtful voice, "Hey, were you crying?"
I shook my head vigorously, and brushed by her to walk home. She appeared beside me but we didn't say a word the rest of the way there.
-
School began again, and day after day flicked by until winter melted away into warm spring and the ocean waters were still a little chilly but Oliver and I went surfing a few times already.
It was finally May, the stupid year was almost over, and it couldn't be going by any slower. In fact, it was Thursday night, tomorrow was Friday, as well as the Spring Fling and, not that I really cared to go, but Johnny asked Miley so I got a date and that means my Friday night's gonna be pretty much horrible.
If I couldn't even handle watching Miley kiss someone that wasn't me, what was I going to do tomorrow night when she was hanging all over her crush since eighth grade?
-
mileybabyyxx: heyy did you get your dress for tom?
lillyszlikee: yeaa
mileybabyyxx: aww! my lil lillian's all grown up!
lillyszlikee: lol yes i m
mileybabyyxx: omg i still cant believe johnny asked me
lillyszlikee: ha i can. glad your happy
I let out a shaky breath. The truth was, I couldn't be more of the opposite about tomorrow night.
Miley and I talked about the quiz I missed and how Jake broke his leg and the Hannah concert Saturday night.
After a while, I just needed to say it. It was time for me to get this off my chest.
lillyszlikee: hey miles… have u evr been in love?
I began trembling. I couldn't believe this.
mileybabyyxx: well, you know, people all have a different def. of love, but no, i don't think so. Why?
Why?
bcuz im i
well idk how your gonna take this bu
im fckin in love with you stupi
lillyszlikee: idk, jw wat its like
Ugh, I'm such a wimp. How did I pussy out of that one?
Okay, let me try again.
lillyszlikee: whats the cutest thing you think someone could say to you?
mileybabyyxx: haha okay where are all the love questions comin from?
lillyszlikee: idk lol im just in that romantic mood na mean.
That sounded terrible. I'm not trying to seduce her via AIM, all I want is for these stupid feelings to die!
All I want is to stop feeling angry at my best friend because she doesn't even know what she does to me.
mileybabyyxx: right… that better not be some kinda nasty talk lillian
lillyszlikee: lmao miley stewart! would i ever nasty talk you?
mileybabyyxx: at this point, only god knows what your liable to do.
lillyszlikee: true.
lillyszlikee: but you didnt anser my ? !
mileybabyyxx: okay, okay. i thought the way jake asked me out was cute. like when
he came out and just said it
lillyszlikee: lmao. no miles, he didn't do that yet
mileybabyyxx: what?
mileybabyyxx: lmao shut up !
lillyszlikee: lol… so all you want is a wordsy confesion? boooring
mileybabyyxx: ugh alright. id think something creative, like taking me out for a drive and renting out a billboard and putting up 'miley stewart will you be my gf?' on
it would be interesting. and it would be kind of romantic. not that exact thing persay, but you know
lillyszlikee: ohhh ok. jeez between highschool and performing in front of a million
people a week one would think u never have time to sit around and fantasize
mileybabyyxx: lmao well being on a tour bus isn't all that eventful
lillyszlikee: right. so something creative nd romantic?
mileybabyyxx: alright do you know something i don't?
…
lillyszlikee: like wat do you mean?
mileybabyyxx: come on lil im not stupid. you gotta know something i don't or something. is someone gonna ask me out… like…. Johnny…? ;]
lillyszlikee: no honestly im jus askin
i hope to god that kid doesn ask you ou
mileybabyyxx: okay.. but when he does ill know. ill know, lilly.
lillyszlikee: but hes not!
mileybabyyxx: …right.
lillyszlikee: seriously!
mileybabyyxx: k lillypad. well, im goin to bed. night! 3
lillyszlikee: i mean it!
mileybabyyxx has signed off at 22:04:32
lillyszlikee: w/e goodnight popstar.
lillyszlikee: 333
Well, it wasn't a completely pointless conversation.
Shit, I'm a wimp.
I leaned back in my computer chair, swung around a little bit.
What could I do?
I'm ready for my lovefest with this girl to end. If it keeps going, New Year's Eve will happen all over again every time it's reinforced in me that Miley isn't mine and never will be.
I need to tell her.
I don't have the money to rent out a billboard, in fact, I have pretty much no more than three bucks on me.
And honestly, I can't act like this is normal and just ask her out. In fact, I can't ask her out period. She deserves a confession and a huge explanation, if she won't run away before I give her one.
I should do something meaningful for her, something she'll like.
But what?
I look around my room. My bed? I could invite her over and sit her down and straight up tell her. But that wouldn't be creative. The ceiling? I could sit her down and wait until she looks up and write it on the wall? No, my mom would flip. But I wasn't gonna do it like that. This isn't a normal crush, so it shouldn't be exposed normally.
This has to come with an explanation. But what would I say? I look at the bookshelf and at all the dusty books I scarcely touch. I could try to look through them and find some passage of a romantic profession of love, make her read it, maybe. Well, then again, its not like I could find anything that describes even closely to how I'm feeling in any of them.
I look some more. The window, some photographs, my CDs, my closet, the television and some DVDs. I'm not going to pull a Romeo on her and throw rocks at her window, that's so cliché. And she has doubles of all those photographs, and pictures of Oliver with birthday cake smeared all over his face won't really describe any of my feelings. I could invite her over and have a movie night and put on love movies—but, no, it's a little sketchy.
Maybe I could jump out of the closet and tell her I'm out for her.
Har har.
Wait—I double take back to the CDs on the desk, then to the blank ones up top.
Maybe I could make her, like… a mixtape, or something?
Yeah, it would be perfect! I can picture it already—I'll give it to her and say that I just wanted to get this off my chest, and I know it's not normal but it's not like I chose for this to happen, and just listen to this and maybe you'll understand what I've been feeling for the past couple months.
And then I'd leave and give her some time with it and text her the next day or something.
I pulled up iTunes on my computer and got to work.
-
I rest my head in my palm and smooth out my silky periwinkle colored dress and, I was right, this night is terrible.
I lifted my eyes from my half eaten chocolate cake and look across the table full of all my friends to Miley and Johnny. They were talking, all close to each other, his arm sitting on the booth around her shoulders.
She looked unbelievable tonight. Her hair was styled in professional-looking, flowing chestnut waves, and she had on some dark gray shadow that made her eyes look extremely blue and her long lashes and lips looked as gorgeous since they were touched up as well. She wore this form fitting royal blue strapless dress that had only a slit down the lower thigh to the mid calves where it ended, and Christ, I know the girl is pretty, but I can't even remember what my date's face looks like, or anything else about tonight but her, for that matter.
All night she's had this smile stuck on her face. All night she's been so happy. With Johnny.
They haven't really touched besides when they danced. I glanced at them once and was overcome with so much jealousy I began squeezing my plastic cup of punch so tightly it almost split.
At least they haven't kissed or anything.
I wonder, again, what it would be like to kiss Miley. Not Johnny, with his gorgeous curly brown mass of hair and his smooth, cinnamon skin, or his golden dress shirt and black vest and matching slacks. Not Johnny, but me.
I imagine closing in on her face, so close I could see her clear pores, and I imagine how her lips would feel against mine. I know what a kiss feels like, but I also know that one with her would be a whole different animal. It would be so much more than lip-to-lip contact. It would come with emotion and feeling coordinating to the touch.
I really had to get over this… attraction? Crush? Whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it's the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. But also the greatest. In a way, I didn't want it to end, because of how the feelings made me feel so good, but I had to get over them because it was just as much heart-wrenching as pleasurable, if million fold.
And I wish I could have done it while gazing down at the gooey chocolate cake I was chasing around with my fork, because when I looked up again, I saw Johnny and Miley connected at the lips.
-
I watched the people rush past and the car inch along the street. I was sitting on a wooden and iron bench outside Olivia's Pies and watching everyone heading this way and that made me wonder what they thought of the pathetic teenage girl sitting on a bench in formal wear with her makeup all smeared.
Yes, I ran, again. I think this would be the last time. I think time away from Miley would help me get over her.
I sat for minutes, almost half an hour, just watching, before someone sat down beside me. I hastily wiped below my eyes, although I'm sure I still looked like a mess.
"Hey."
And of course, it was Miley. Miley, the subject of my thoughts every waking minute. God, I never thought I'd say something like that.
"Hey."
"Lilly…"
"What?"
My heart was racing, pulsating in my throat this time, and I felt excited. Miley's attention was on me.
"What's going on…?"
My eyes were glued to the sidewalk, but I focused on my chest physically jitter from the spastic muscle inside of it, the one going crazy.
"You've been acting so strange lately," Miley continued when I didn't answer, "running out of places at random times and crying," I guess I wasn't hiding that very well, "and it feels like out of no where you're pissed as hell at me, and I just want to know what you're thinking."
I almost laugh. Because this is my chance to tell her and I know if I take it, it's not like it'll even work out. It's not like she'll understand. People walk by the two teenage girls sitting on the bench outside Olivia's Pies, probably thinking the one in the lighter blue dress got dumped by her boyfriend or something.
"Lilly? Don't shut me out, please," she begged with more emotion than I've heard directed at me for a long time, "I'm really sorry for whatever I did. Forgetting any plans, saying anything, doing anything, like, I'm really sorry about the dressing room thing, I promise I'll warn you next time I'm pmsing."
I broke into a smile, and chuckled a hoarse, throaty chuckle. Fresh tears lined my eyes, and this was so pathetic and wrong but of course I find the smidgeon of light through it and laugh.
I still don't glance up, though. I shut my eyes to trap the tears. "Look, Miley, it's nothing you did, it's just… really complicated."
"Maybe if you told someone—"
"I can't tell you. It's so much I don't even know where to start."
"Well, you better decide right now 'cause we ain't getting up from this bench before you spill."
"Miley," I sigh, "it's not the kind of thing I can just spill, okay?"
"…What kind of thing is it?"
It's a love thing. It's a you thing, but I don't tell her that.
"Well, does it have anything to do with Ryan Bellmann? Or Johnny? Or anyone?"
"What? No, it has nothing to do with guys," I almost broke into a smile again at that statement. Never thought I'd be one to say that.
"It's just, I noticed you always get all quiet and mad whenever I bring up the kiss, or all week when I've even said Johnny's name, or any guy, but I can't really pull one off the top of my head with how many guys we talk about, it's just whenever I bring up a guy, it seems to upset you."
Oh god. I cant—I can't let her figure this out.
But I don't want to lie anymore. I don't want to pretend. Oliver said Miley will never hate me, especially for this, so… Maybe I should just tell her.
I lift my head and see the same expression from the night of the party. I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine and after a long few seconds I said, "It's not any of them," hoping maybe she'll piece it together now.
"Then who is it?" She said, sounding kind of aggravated and pushy and a flood of anger broke within me. She had no right to be the aggravated one in this.
I stood up, breaking out stare. "Miley, I said it's not the kind of thing I can just come out and tell you!" I shouted, causing people to stare at the girl all dressed up bitching at her pretty friend, "So just stop trying to force it out of me and just—just leave it! Leave me!"
I turned around and began to stomp away, heels in my hand as I stepped barefoot down the sidewalk. There was some pieces of glass next to where I was walking but I really didn't give a shit right now.
"Wait, Lilly!" I felt something clamp my shoulder and all in one motion it turned me around but I lost my footing because I didn't want to step on the glass and I sort of jerked into Miley as she caught me in my arms and I made the brash decision to put my lips to hers.
My first thought when I felt her lips on mine was how soft they felt, and as I pushed harder, how tense. My second was that these lips were just on Johnny's lips but now they're on mine and wow. Which each fleeting moment my stomach flipped harder and faster and my heart was racing and I never wanted it to end.
But when I wondered what the people walking down the street around us were thinking when they saw the two teenage girls standing outside of Olivia's Pies kissing, I pulled back and realized, Miley was probably a little taken aback by that fact, and most likely disgusted with me now.
I looked up into her face, and her eyes were widened in horror while her brow was lowered incredulously and I spun around again, dodging the glass, and my feet hit the cement soundly as I ran blocks and blocks away from it all.
'My thoughts remain lying on the floor
It's not my fault I'm such an awful mess and more…'
-"Stop It," The Almost
-
Okay, I'm extremelysorry for the wait. To be honest, I decided last minute to change the direction of the story and switch it up. The next chapter is going to be the last.
After this, I have an idea for another Liley that I'll start probably within the next two weeks. Hopefully that one will come out to be a little more organized D:
Anyway, I want to thank everyone for sticking with me and leaving reviews. Your words mean a lot to me. The last chapter will be up by the eighteenth.
