Hannah finished her concert and was disappointed to find that her two best friends had high-tailed it home; the two people she needed to talk to most.

"Hey, darlin', great concert," said Robbie Ray. "Why the long face?" Miley considered his trustworthiness.

"Boy trouble or friend trouble?" he guessed.

"Both," Miley answered glumly, taking off her wig.

"Oh no, Lily-friend trouble?"

"No, Oliver."

"Well, how about the boy trouble?"

"Oliver."

"He sure gets around."

"That's just it. For the past couple of days I've been trying to figure out if I like him or not, you know, that way. And I was wondering if he felt the same."

"What did you decide?"

"Well, obviously I decided I do kinda like him. And then I—" she trailed off.

"Yeah, I know. Whole country knows."

"Exactly! I need to talk to him and see if he thinks I was just being Hannah Montana pop star—or if I was Miley when I kissed him."

"And now he's nowhere to be found?"

"Yup."

"Well, Oliver's a good kid. But he's also a guy: if he thought that kiss was awkward because you're such good friends, he might had skedaddled because he felt weird about it."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"But," he went on, "he also might have been hoping for something like that to happen between you two, possibly not so publicly, only he's run off because he has to sort out what he's feeling, and he's nervous to find out if you feel the same."

Miley looked hopeful.

"I'd advise you to seek him out first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, daddy," she said. "I will."

♥♥♥

The next morning Miley opened the newspaper and saw a front-page color picture of herself and Oliver kissing.

"Had a good night?" Jackson asked, walking by.

"We look so hot together!" Miley exclaimed, still staring at the picture and ignoring her brother.

"Whoa, how much did you pay him to do that?" Jackson asked, doing a double take and recognizing Oliver. Miley glared and swatted at him with her rolled-up newspaper.

"The real question," she said in a business-like manner, putting on her shoes and heading for the door, "is what it's going to cost me to get him to do a repeat performance."