Disclaimer: I do not own Keke Palmer or Hannah Montana. I DO own Amanda and Garrett Sherwood.

Miley's POV:
"Jake," I said softly, my eyes widening.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was tender, and he was actually staring straight into my eyes for the first time in a while. His face was gentle, and calm.

"Amanda died," I said, trying to act like it was no big deal.

Jake shook his head hard, tears in his eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Dead," I choked.

"Wow," he croaked. "She's really gone."

"I know." I pursed my lips hard, gulping back my tears as best as I could.

"God, she was too young to die!" Jake whispered, staring hard at the floor.

I nodded stiffly, tears dripping from my eyes.

We both just stood their oddly together, feeling very out of place, tears dripping down our faces.

And then Jake pulled me in to a huge hug, wrapping his arms around me, pressing me close to him. He pushed me against the cold lockers gently, so that my back was against it, and we both just cried together.

My nose was deep in his neck, and his nose was in my hair. I could feel him inhaling my scent, and his tears trickled down my neck.

"She didn't do anything bad! She only helped us…" I trailed off in tears.

Jake only nodded numbly. We just continued to cry in each other's arms, forgetting any awkwardness between us.

"She'd been acting so oddly lately!" I sighed. "I really should've tried to help her."

"Me too," Jake agreed.

He squeezed my shoulders reassuringly.

Out of the blue, Jake asked me, "How've things been?"

"Terrible," I sniffed, salty tears trickling into my mouth.

"Me too."

It was quiet again, and I felt Jake sighing hard into my hair.

"Jake?" I asked curiously.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked. It was obvious that he trying to suppress his outrage, but it showed in his forced voice.

"What?" I asked innocently. What was he talking about?
Jake sighed hard again, and I pulled away, staring into his beautiful face. Tears were falling down fast, and I reached up and stroked his cheek.

His jaws grinded together, and he only replied, "That you were bulimic."

My heart jolted in shock, and my stomach churned unpleasantly. Jake didn't even dare disconnect our eyes. I just stared into his deep green eyes, guilt starting to surface in my face and eyes. I didn't blink. I just stared at him, taken aback. My eyes started to water, and I thought my knees would give way.

"Jake…" I started carefully, having no idea what to say. "I—it…it was a secret."

"A secret? Miley, if it were a secret than how come you told me?" he said breathlessly. "You told me over email. Why? Why did you tell someone you thought was a stranger, but yet not me…your own boyfriend?"

I opened my mouth in protest, desperately trying to find words. I knew whatever I would say would sound pathetic.

"I was insecure, Jake," I swallowed with difficulty. "And you know what? I still am."

Jake gulped, and his eyes strayed nervously over to the floor, then the ceiling, then his shoes…

"Jake? Can I see? Show me those bruises."

"No!" his face was filled with horror. "I just…no. That's…personal."

"Jake…are your parents really getting divorced?" I asked, touching his arm gently.

Jake nodded uncomfortably, and fresh tears started to flow from his eyes again.

"Why didn't you tell me your parents were getting divorced?" I asked demandingly.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were bulimic? Listen Miley, let's not even go at it, okay? We know it's just going to go in a circle," Jake responded, still upset.

I just pulled him into another huge hug, and we held each other, shaking with tears.

"Miley, Miley!" I looked up to see Lilly Truscott sprinting to me, tears stung in her eyes.

"Miley, Amanda died!" Lilly cried. "I've been trying to tell you since forever now!"

"We know," I said softly, separating myself from Jake. Lilly glanced from Jake to me nervously, contemplating what our relationship status was now. She opened her mouth carefully, deciding to speak.

"Miley, I saw…I saw her die."

It grew quiet between us all of a sudden. I stared at Lilly, who guiltily bit her lip, tears spilling from the rim of her eyes.

"Miley…she was sitting next to me, and then she just…fainted. And—and I told Mr. Hart and he called the ambulance—oh, Miley! It was so horrible. Everyone was crying…and…I just feel—" Lilly took in a deep breath. "Miley…you know how she died? You know why?"

I felt Jake reach for my hand and squeeze it.

"Yeah. Her sickness took over so hard that she gave way," I said, my voice wobbly.

"Well…" Lilly sighed hard, her voice raspy. "This is going to be hard to break to you…"

"What?" I asked softly, preparing myself for the news.

"Miley…they did tests at the hospital, and there were traces of drugs in her blood," Lilly told me hesitantly.

"What?!?! Lilly, that's crazy! Amanda would never ever take drugs! She was a smart girl, she had good morals! I mean…no! That's not accurate," I said.

Seriously…Amanda was smart, she knew not to take drugs! She'd never take them. I had known Amanda well enough to know that. That was outrageous. They'd probably done the tests wrong!

"Miley, calm down. She didn't take the drugs...her mom injected them into her blood," Lilly said unstably, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Are you serious?" I asked, my heart sinking. Everything else started to register in my mind; falling into place.

"I swear. You probably don't know this because you only moved here in seventh grade, but Amanda used to have a twin brother. His name was Garrett, and he died at the very end of sixth grade. And they just realized that he died because their mother had also injected drugs in his blood too, and it took over him. The only thing I don't understand is why their mother would do that to them…" Lilly shook her head.

I did. I didn't dare say anything though. I knew that that was personal information, and even though Amanda was dead, she wouldn't have wanted other people to know how much their mother hated them and how they were her little experiments. I wanted to respect Amanda the best I could, now that she was dead. The best I could do from her this far away.

"So? Where's her mother now?" I replied unsteadily.

"She ran. The police are looking for her…she sounds like a lunatic. But it seems like she's very far, so we don't have to worry," Lilly explained.

Jake breathed out a sigh of relief, when I sucked in my breath uneasily.

It was silent as we thought about Amanda. And then I realized that's why her moods were always switching. Because of those drugs! They made her uneasy, and depressed and tired. They irregulated her personality. They made her sick sometimes too. That was why she'd fainted that long time ago! Those stupid drugs. That was why she'd gotten so sick.

"We need to give her a funeral. Okay? I know she'd want one. And for her brother too. She, er, she told me once that her brother never had a funeral and she wanted him to have one. So…we really should hold a funeral for them," I said carefully.

Jake and Lilly both looked up at me peculiarly, but then their faces softened.

"Okay," Lilly said, smiling just a little.

"Great idea Miles," Jake said.

I nodded, pressing my lips together awkwardly.

"Yeah," I said. "It's a good way of…respecting her. And her brother too."

They nodded back, and then they both stared at me.

"I think I'm just going to go home," I said finally, turning around and simply leaving.

Instead of going home, I went to the beach. It was empty, as it was just the middle of a school day. I sat down on the sand. It was chilly again.

Luckily I was wearing a sweatshirt. I pulled the hood up over my head, and stuffed my hands in its pockets. But then I felt something. A folded up piece of notebook paper.

I reached in and pulled out the note, unfolding it carefully. What was it? I barely even remembered putting a note in my pocket…

I gasped. My mouth went drier than the desert.

It was from Amanda. She'd left me a note. It was very long, and all written in messy cursive. There were little droplets of water on the thin piece of paper that were still wet. Amanda's tears.

My eyes watered as I read the long letter.

Dear Miley,

I know I'm dying. I can feel it in my bones. They feel like they're hollow, and I feel so weak. I figured I would die around this time. My body can't hold on for this long, running on drugs, can it? I knew my mom had been giving them to me ever since Garrett died. I mean, I figured. But I didn't stop her. I just let her inject those drugs. She'd do it almost every week, and I got used to feeling the sharp needle in my veins in the middle of the night when she thought I was fast asleep. I mean, what reason did I have to live for? Nothing. No one. Those drugs were weird; I only realized just before I started to write this for you that they were what was changing my moods and making me tired. They made me do some stupid stuff; that included acting as a murderer. Yes, Miley. I was the murderer. The stupidest idea I've ever had. And I'm so sorry—I understand if you never forgive me. You don't have to. That was ridiculous of me to do, even though I did that off of drugs. I'm so sorry, I really am—for all the pain; the worrying Jake and you went through. I had this whole bogus plan too on how to get Jake. And then when you asked me to pretend to date Jake…I was in shock. But I agreed to it. Because I had a sick mind at that time. I thought that I could get closer to Jake that way. And then my mood changed again, and made me…feistier, I guess you could say. So, I'm sorry for that too. And I know you're also wondering what happened when I was in that bathroom on that field trip. Well…I felt so guilty. Why was I guilty? Miley, I hate to have to tell you this way, and it really does kill me, but…I tried to kill you. I'm SO sorry. I feel so stupid, and I feel so guilty! I'd never felt guiltier in my entire life. When you went over the cliff, I accidentally kicked a rock at your foot so you'd trip over the edge. Hate me. I know. I deserve it. But I am truly sorry. It was all the drugs! I couldn't do anything. I was trapped inside myself. And so, in that bathroom, I felt so terrible; so guilty that I just…overflowed. Passed out. And I'm so sorry you had to deal with that. And please…get over bulimia. For me. Please? My dying wish. You'll feel so much better…I promise. You were a great friend, Miley. So thank you so much for being there for me. For saving me. And even if you regret saving me now that you know I was planning to kill you at the time, like I said: I really wasn't. That wasn't really me. Luckily, you did get to know the real me too. If you ever need anything, just look up—I'll be up there. In heaven. Promise you. Keep holding on, okay? Tell Jake sorry for me, and he can have all of my brother's stuff. Jake'd love that. Garrett was a sports fanatic, and I'm sure Jake would love his collections. He can have them. And you can have my clothes and my shoes and accessories. All yours. And my money. Really. Take it. I left a key in your locker to my house. I know my mom will be gone by the time she finds out I'm dead, so no one will be there. You can just go up and help yourself to anything you want. And no objections. You need to take that stuff. My gift to you. Thanks Miley. This is my goodbye. My final farewell. After this, I'll never talk to you again. And I'm sorry my tears are making this paper all soggy and wet, but they just won't stop spilling from my eyes. So I'm sorry for that too. I'm just…sorry. Sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. And remember: keep holding on. Keep strong. And I'll be watching you. All the way from up above.

Speechlessly,

Amanda Kay Sherwood

P.S. And, for one last time, mustache guy -- :-?)

If her diary freaked me out, this freaked me out even more. My own tears joined Amanda's on the paper as they dropped endlessly.

She had left this for me. She cared. Amanda had actually cared about me. And she was so much like me…if I would've known…

She thought no one cared about her. I cared about her! And I was sure other people did too. If only I could've told her…. Her life wasn't worthless! It was definitely worth living. She could make it better…she could've improved it!

And then I realized where Amanda was going with this. Good ole Amanda, playing those physiological games on me. Even when she was dying. That's how much she wanted me to get better.

Me.

I was like that. I was giving someone with the same problem as me advice. I was basically telling myself that I could improve my life! Sneaky Amanda. But so caring. Like she'd always been.

I half-smiled.

How'd she even know? How'd she even know that I was bulimic? I guess I'd never know. I would try to get better. I would respect her dying wish. And I didn't hate her. Like she said, it wasn't really her doing that. It was those idiot drugs.

I looked up to the cloudy gray sky, my smile spreading.

"Amanda…" I said, smiling to my fullest now. "I got your letter. And no, I don't hate you."

She seemed to respond, for the clouds quickly pulled away, and revealed the bright sun, shining down on me happily.

Hannah's POV:
I was back on stage, the hot lights blaring in my face, causing me to squint into the crowd.

"How'd you like that? Great job, Keke Palmer!" I said, applauding with the audience as Keke left the stage.

I bravely took the microphone, and slowly stepped forward upstage. My face was serious, my voice too. The audience cooperatively quieted.

"So…" I started confidently. "Listen…fans, all of you loyal people out there, thank you so much. I know I haven't been like myself lately. I know that. I've just been really under pressure recently, and I'll admit I'm not a very strong person. It's okay if you're not, but that doesn't mean that you can just give up and crumble under any weight. That's what I did, and that was one of the worst decisions I ever made. Now I'm a little better, but I'll also admit I haven't fully recovered. I was living in the dark, I was very emotional, and I wrote many songs," I breathed in hard. "And…I'm going to share them with you."

The crowd whooped and cheered and applauded, and I smiled slightly at my brave decision, knowing it wasn't a bad one. These were the people that loved me. They would respect me.

I picked up my guitar, and sat down in the chair, starting to sing.

"I know that lately I've been all over the place

No one has tried to help me or give me space

Every person I know is an unfamiliar face

How in the world did I even get to this place?

It's like I was in a race

And I completely lost my pace

And now I'm so discouraged

As I watch others fly before me.

There's no use in trying now

I'm so far behind now

And I don't know why I expect

Someone to run back and get me.

I want to understand more than anything

But my mind just keeps on lingering

And I just can't keep my focus

And I'm spinning out of control.

I know I haven't been home too often

But it's not like you have

And I'm sorry I'm being so blunt

But you haven't been acting like my dad.

Where have I gone?

I can't seem to find myself

What has happened to me?

I know I'll never be the same again.

There's nobody at home

And I'm stuck all alone

I know that my depression has shown

So why do you still leave me on my own?

No one will listen to me

No one wants to put up with me

No one wants to waste their time

No one even cares about me.

Why should I even bother?

Do you even know how close I was?

There were so many people that could've helped

But they didn't; they just smirked and left.

I'm tried of failing and trailing and bailing and wailing and assailing and not nailing and frailing

Why did you even have me if you were just not going to care?

I just want to be loved by someone; is anybody even there?

I don't even know if I want to get better

Because I know that I am so far

If you even know what I have gone through

You'd really think I am one tough star."

I swallowed hard, staring out into that thick, bustling crowd. Many were crying, and I found myself shocked. A girl screamed, "You go Hannah!"

"That was so brave!" A mother said.

I smiled slightly.

"You want another one?" I asked carefully. The crowd screamed yes in response.

"Okay then…" I trailed off, clearing my throat. My face became serious again, and my smile disappeared as I remembered one song that would be perfect. I had really been sad when I'd written this one…

I strummed by guitar, and hummed lightly, remembering the tune far back in my head.

"I'm falling out of love

And falling into a hole

Where I am alone

And all on my own

And I'm screaming hard

But no one can hear me

And now there's a scar

Engraved in my heart

Why did you do it this way?
What was running through your mind

When you left me behind

Bleeding and crying and practically dying

And gasping, "You're lying!"

And why? Why me?

And the worst part's that you see me

But you all you do is laugh

And I just can't believe it

How do we have nothing left?

I'm not ready for this

Just one final kiss

What did I miss?

Just give me a list

I know I seem desperate

But you should've known you were asking for it

I thought that you knew me all along

But I know that thought was clearly wrong

I'm falling out of love

And falling into a hole

Where I am alone

And all on my own

And I'm screaming hard

But no one can hear me

And now there's a scar

Engraved in my heart."

I inhaled sharply, staring out into the crowd. They were all just staring at me. At my face. I brought my fingers up to my face, which I found to be wet.

I had been crying.

I laughed it off nervously.

And then my eyes connected with someone standing far off behind the curtains on stage. With my father's eyes. He was standing there, not moving, his expression blank and flat. He didn't mouth anything. His face didn't change. His eyes burned into mine like fire, and I looked away.

"Well!" I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. "Thank you all! Keke will come back out here and perform her new song, 'Keep it Movin''! I love this song, and I think you guys will too!"

I clasped my guitar tightly, setting the microphone back into place on the stand, and I quickly returned backstage, making my way through the set of curtains on the opposite side of the stage.

I went back to my dressing room, only to find Jake there.

"Oh—" I said, closing the door behind me, and laying my guitar on the sofa. "Jake!"

I had shown him the letter yesterday, at Amanda and Garrett's funeral. It had been very emotional, and almost the entire school was there! Even the principal. Her parents weren't there, of course. But I didn't think she'd liked them anyway. I'd made a really long teary speech, as well as Jake, Lilly, and many other people. It was satisfying in a way. I hoped Amanda up there realized how much people really loved and missed her.

Jake took a courageous step forward, and said lightly, "I heard those songs. They were beautiful."

"Thanks," I said, slightly embarrassed. I felt my face redden. Why was I suddenly so shy?

Jake just smiled.

"That was so brave of you," he set his hands firmly on my waist. "I wouldn't never been able to do that."

"It was hard. Very—"

But then Jake mashed his soft lips against mine, and we kissed like there was no tomorrow.

I pulled away, smiling.

"I think that kiss just made my year," I said slyly.

"Mine too," he said, and he kissed me again.

A/N: There you guys have it. The last chapter. Hope you liked it! I can always rewrite it if it sucked. Just tell me. Please read the note below!
Important Note::: The next chapter will be a Questions and Answers (Q & A) chapters. This story was a little foggy, and I know it was confusing at times, so this is your chance to ask questions! You can also ask questions about other stuff, like how I came up with ideas for the story, characters, or whatever! If no one gives me questions, I'll make them up and then answer them anyway!

Current Song Stuck In My Head: Take You There by Sean Kingston