This is it, folks! Enjoy!


Part Nine

Oliver stopped right in front of me. Our eyes met, and in that brief moment I saw that he had already forgiven me. Completely.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered. My heart was beating so fast I could hardly speak.

"I got your 'sorry Oliver' salmon platter," he whispered back, "so I thought I'd come sit back stage with Lola and listen to the end of your concert."

No way. Was that really all it took? Two platters of salmon rolls and we were best friends again? Hadn't he been way mad at me?

Oliver looked over his shoulder and then back to me, his eyes narrowed. "Guess who had the gall to come up and thank me for breaking up with you so that he could have you all to himself?"

I didn't even need to guess.

"Let me tell you somethin'." Oliver leaned toward me. "No one – especially not Romeo – messes with my friends."

He walked past me and grabbed a new microphone from my bass player. He faced the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Mike Standley!"

They roared and applauded as if I'd never announced a breakup. They loved him already.

"Hannah is right," he said. "We haven't been dating for a month. We've been dating for six months, and we lied about it to cover up the fact that we'd been keeping secrets from our families. But today, in honor of our six month anniversary, I'm gonna dish out some freaky fresh fun right here on this stage. And Hannah apologizes ahead of time for whatever comes out of my mouth."

Oliver glanced back at me and smiled. I could have cried. I did cry.

"Hit it, Kevin!" Oliver cued the percussionist.

Oh dear God, he wasn't going to rap, was he?

"Come on guys, let's get this party started. Make some noise, this ain't for the fainthearted. Get on your feet, 'cause this song is uncharted –"

I stepped up to the microphone and interrupted him. "Everyone cheer for Mike before he is departed!"

What? Someone had to put him out of his misery.

The audience was completely enthralled. They started chanting "Mike" over and over again as he bowed and graciously turned to leave.

I put a hand on his arm. He looked down at me and grinned. "You can get me back for that later."

Heedless of anything but my eternal gratitude for what he'd done, I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Thank you," I whispered.

His arms tightened around me. Then he released me and stepped away. "Let's get out of here before Sammy finds you, eh?"

Ironically enough, it was us who found Sammy. We walked into my dressing room and there he was, tied to a chair with an elbow pad strapped over his mouth. Two policemen stood beside him taking notes. Lilly and Jackson were doing the talking.

"And then I saw him sneaking along the back wall over there humming the theme from Star Wars," Jackson said.

"Yeah, not so much Shakespeare when you're on the run with a bag of loot, eh?" Lilly added, hands on her hips.

"What'd he do?" I asked them.

"Fake ID, trespassing, stalking…" one of the policemen began.

"And stealing," the other finished. "Sherlock Holmes and Watson here caught him leaving your dressing room with these." He held up a pair of silver Jimmy Choo heels.

Yup, those were mine.

"We've been getting calls about his suspicious activity for the past two weeks. We finally caught him red-handed."

I felt a certain sense of vindication, knowing Sammy would probably end up behind bars for a few days.

Jackson patted the elbow pad over Sammy's mouth. "Like how that feels, buddy? Those babies are versatile and breathable."

One of the officers gave Jackson a warning look. "Please take that thing off his face. It looks ridiculous."

"Yeah, Jackson, what were you thinking?" Lilly rolled her eyes.

The moment his mouth was free, Sammy spoke. "'Is love a tender thing?'" he quoted bitterly. "'It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous; and it pricks like thorn.'"

Eh, I let him have it. Every villain needs a good last line, right?

Lilly babbled nonstop the entire drive home. She touched on every subject imaginable – from curly Q French fries to platypuses to bubble wrap. I didn't know if I was more annoyed or grateful that neither Oliver or I could get a word in edgewise.

The limo stopped at Oliver's house first. "Miles," he said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you last night. Friends help each other no matter what, and I should've stuck with you to the end. Especially knowing that Sammy was out there."

I took his hand and squeezed it. "Thanks."

He held my gaze a moment longer, and it seemed as though he wanted to say something else. But he didn't. He stepped out of the limo and walked away.

So Oliver and I were back to normal again. That was good, right? That was what I'd set out to accomplish today.

But if that's all I wanted, why did I feel so sad?

When the limo reached my house Lilly raced inside chanting, "I've really got to go!" and Jackson made some comment about a new ninja squirrel trap he wanted to test out. I went inside to fetch my guitar, then settled out on the back porch under the stars.

It was a pretty night. I could hear the waves breaking in the distance, and feel the warm coastal breeze.

Why couldn't I just tell Oliver I liked him? Lilly was right. I was such a wimp. How could a girl like me – who could get up on stage in front of thousands of people and sing – not have the guts to tell a guy she liked him?

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I would march right over to his house, knock on his door, and tell him everything.

I would do it. And I wouldn't think about the consequences.

Tomorrow.

I strummed a few strings on my guitar. The chord progression came naturally, easily. Writing songs was like breathing. I could do it no matter how I was feeling inside, and it took no effort at all. The words and melodies always came to me.

Okay. I have a confession to make. I didn't tell anyone because…well, because it's private. Last night I didn't sleep a wink because I was up writing a new song. And don't give me that look. I didn't start out intending to write a song for Oliver. I wanted to write a really depressing song about a breakup. I wanted to use dark, moody words, a low minor key, and some seriously discordant electric guitar solos.

But when the lyrics started flowing, they had Oliver written all over them, and they weren't discordant or depressing. I let them flow, and before I had the foggiest idea what had happened, a song appeared.

A song for Oliver.

But of course I wasn't going to sing it for anyone, least of all him. No, it was just a song for me to sing in quiet moments when I was alone.

Like now.

I half sung, half whispered the words as I played along.

"This…is for the time you saw me

Sittin' all alone

And came and said hello

And made me laugh

And said you'd be my friend forever

"This…is for the time you loved me

But you didn't know

And when I spilled the truth

You didn't run

You took me in your arms and held me

"For all the times you stayed around

All the times you got me through

For all the times you lent a hand

This song is for you

"Don't think I never noticed

Don't think I didn't care

I'm here now to tell you I always saw you standing there

"And every plea for help

Every desperate cry

Every crazy scheme

Every bold-faced lie

Was only so I'd have the chance to kiss you one more time

"This…is for the time you saved me

From a fated song

I forgot the words

But then you sang them

Even though I'd let you down

"This…is for the time you cheered me

When I fought with my best friend

You let me paint your nails

And brush your hair

You played along and made me smile

"For all the times you kept my secret

All the times you saw and knew

For all the times you stood by me

This song is for you

"Don't think I never noticed

Don't think I didn't care

I'm here now to tell you I always saw you standing there

"And every plea for help

Every desperate cry

Every crazy scheme

Every bold-faced lie

Was only so I'd have the chance to kiss you one more time

"Now we're stuck in this beautiful mess

I didn't plan it but I feel so blessed

I wish that you could know

I'm sorry it didn't show

I'd give anything if only I didn't have to let you go

"Don't think I never noticed

Don't think I didn't care

I'm here now to tell you I always saw you standing there

"And every small request

Every big demand

Every wild tale

Please just understand

Was only so I'd have the chance to kiss you one more time

"Don'tcha know

Can'tcha tell

I just want to kiss you one more time."

The last note faded. I sat there in the silence, hardly even thinking, just letting the glorious feelings of the past two weeks wash over me. I didn't know if I'd ever feel them again.

"Miley?"

My breath caught. Oh God, tell me he didn't hear all that.

Oliver stepped onto the porch from the shadows.

I was almost speechless. Almost. "Oliver, what are you doing here?" I jumped up and clutched my guitar to my chest.

He was looking at me oddly, as if he was trying to figure something out, but couldn't. "I came to ask if you wanted to help me out with the straw-spitting rematch tonight. I didn't remember it until I got home."

Maybe he didn't hear the song. Maybe he didn't hear the song. My heart pounded faster.

"Did you write that song?" he asked hesitantly.

Or maybe he did.

"Oh, no no no, it's just something I heard on the radio the other day," I stammered. Oh, come on! Was I really that much of a wimp? "I mean…yes…?" I grimaced.

Oliver's expression was unreadable. He stared at me solemnly, and the crease on his brow deepened.

Standing there in front of him, face to face, I found the courage to speak. "Oliver, I know sometimes I take you for granted, but this time it wasn't like that at all. I only kept begging for your help because…well, because I liked being your girlfriend."

His eyes widened. "You did?"

"Yeah." I couldn't look anymore. I stared at my toes.

He didn't move or say anything for a very long time. Every second that ticked by worsened my condition. My hands shook. My stomach flip-flopped all over the place. Finally I dared to lift my eyes again.

He was still watching me with those big dark eyes. Only now I saw that he understood. He understood everything.

"Is this the part where you tell me you don't feel the same way and ask if we can still be friends?" I braced myself for the worst.

Something altogether beautiful flickered in his eyes. "No," he said simply. "This is the part where I kiss you again."

And without hesitation he took my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

It felt as though everything good and lovely and wondrous came alive in that kiss. He was so soft, so eager. The feel and taste of him was thrilling. I lost myself, buried somewhere deep beneath feelings I'd never dreamed I had.

My guitar slipped from my grasp, and I stepped over it into his arms. Nothing in the world felt as good as this.

At length I pulled my mouth from his. "Oliver, so what was up with all that 'I have a reputation' nonsense, and why did you act like Hannah was the last person in the world you wanted to date?"

"Look who's talking, miss 'please save me from Sammy' and 'I bet I can hook you up with her if you want.'"

I shoved his arm. "Come on, like you really had no idea I liked you."

"And like you really had no idea I liked you. Geez, I even kissed you and you didn't get it."

It didn't really matter to me anymore. I slid my arms around his neck and brought his head down to mine. The butterflies were flying tonight!

Oliver pulled away after a moment. "By the way, I didn't really mean all that about girls not liking flowers and poetry."

I rolled my eyes. "Sure you did."

"No, I know you like all that romantic stuff, so I'm gonna give it my best shot."

Oh, this oughta be good. "Oliver, you don't have to be romantic."

"But I can do this, watch."

He let go of me and walked around the back side of the house. I followed curiously. He stopped by my mom's old rose bush and stuck his hand into it to grab a flower.

"Oww!" He withdrew his hand sharply.

I burst out laughing. "Oliver, roses have thorns. Don't you know that?"

"Of course I do," he said defensively. More carefully this time, he tried to cut through one of the stems with his fingers. "Ouch. Dang flowers."

I watched in a state of growing amusement as he fussed and fiddled with the rose bush. He was so preoccupied with what he was doing that he didn't notice when his foot caught on the garden hose. He tried to move, but quickly realized he was stuck. Bending over, he tried to untangle himself. The situation was helpless. He only succeeded in wrapping himself with the hose.

"Don't worry, Miles," he assured me. "This is not a problem." He reached for the rose he had nearly freed, and as he pulled it loose, he lost his balance and tumbled over.

I couldn't stop laughing.

"A little help here?" He looked up at me pitiably.

I kneeled beside him. He offered me the rose, and I took it. I remembered the rose Sammy had given me on the beach, and how the stem had been free of thorns.

I decided then that the only true rose was a rose with thorns.

"Oliver," I said with a smile. "I think you should just stick to being funny."

"Maybe you're right," he conceded.

I leaned down and kissed him gently. Almost that instant a spray of water shot up into the air.

"Hey!" I jumped back, shielding myself from the wet drops.

The sprinklers were on.

"Oh! Sorry 'bout that." Robbie Ray came strolling around the corner. "I sure didn't see you there. Is that Oliver tangled up in my garden hose?"

"Dad." I crossed my arms. "I'm kinda busy."

"Now honey, you know you don't got to tie that boy up to get him to kiss you." He walked past us shaking his head. "I'm just gonna be inside, right by that window over there. When you're done out here, would you turn off the faucet? Remember, too much water ruins the grass. Thanks darlin'." He disappeared through the back door.

I was too happy to be mad at him. Laughing, I helped Oliver out of the garden hose. We turned the faucet off and went to stand on the porch.

"So does this mean that Hannah and Mike can stay together?" I asked.

"I don't know." Oliver scratched his chin doubtfully. "Mike doesn't really have girlfriends."

I punched his arm.

"Ow!"

Jackson came running through the yard screaming. He was wearing his night goggles and elbow pads, and had a firewood prodder in his hand.

Behind him ran a little squirrel with a crippled paw.

Lilly brought up the rear. "Gimpy, cutie pie, come back here, I've got an acorn for you." She waved it in the air. "Be nice to him, Gimpy. He's defenseless against you. Hey, put that stick down!" Her voice got louder and she ran faster. "Stop kicking him! Jackson, duck!"

The three of them disappeared around the house.

Oliver and I looked at each other.

"You want to go down to Rico's and spit some straws?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, yeah. The little devil's going down!" I high-fived him.

Laughing, we ran down to the beach.

The End


P.S. I have ideas for a sequel so if you want more, let me know!