Chapter 2: Miley Stewart

Miley had just exited the doors of the gym, Lilly was trotting happily next to her. Miley wiped some sweat off her brow with the back of her hand and turned to Lilly.

"I hate PE," she groaned.

"Miles, it isn't that bad. I mean maybe if you could catch a ball you would enjoy it a little more." Lilly snickered a bit remembering the football colliding with the side of Miley's head.

"I can catch," Miley whined as she brushed some of Lilly's long blonde hair off her shoulder. "Anyway, getting off the subject of me being horrible at anything athletic, are you going to talk to Dave today? You've been crushing on him for the past week and he's right there!"

Lilly narrowed her eyes at Miley, "you know, I just might."

"That-a girl." Miley sighed to herself as she leaned against one of the many cinder block walls of Seaview High school. The cool concrete soothed the aches and pains of a sweaty day in gym class. She watched Lilly make her way toward Dave's locker and then refocused her attention to the many people whizzing past her in the hallway. They were like globs of paint being spread across a canvas as the many colors blended together in one thick streak. Miley closed her eyes and sucked in an unusual smell of broccoli, perfume, and body odor. As disgusting as it was, she was glad to have the normal life at school like she did.

The bell rang as a warning for those stragglers to hurry to class, one of them being Miley. She slowly walked as her skinny arms held tightly onto her school books. Stepping quickly into art class, Miley took her usual seat next to Oliver. He was currently trying his hardest to keep his sleepy eyes open. Miley gently tapped him on the shoulder. His eyes darted open and fell upon her with a look of fear.

"I thought you were my mom." He breathed a sigh of relief and stretched his arms over his head, then turned back to Miley who had her face shoved into her notebook. "Miles, did you study?" He inquired as he peered into her notes.

"Yeah but I might as well cram some more while I have the time. Besides I need a good grade on this test to at least get a B in here," she sighed and flipped a wrinkled page.

"You'll do fine." Oliver and Miley were silenced by Mr. Legitt who came waltzing in, his brown briefcase wedged under his arm. His small, round glasses were sitting on the tip of his nose and the bit of gray hair that he usually combed over his bald spot was flailing in the breeze. He grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his pointy nose.

"Good morning class. Put away your books and I'm going to pass out the test. When you are done, place it in my basket." He pointed to the wire rimmed basket sitting on his metal box of a desk. "Good luck."

When Miley received her test, she jotted her name down and skimmed over the first set of questions.

The name of the Impressionist movement is derived fromthe title: Impression, Sunrise of this famous Impressionist's painting.

Van Gogh

Claude Monet

Edgar Degas

Mary Cassatt

Miley took in a deep breath and reread the question. Van Gogh was Post-Impressionism, she thought. If she could only remember that bit of the page she had just read on Impressionism! It was Monet! She mentally patted herself on the back and continued with the test.

Twenty minutes and two broken pencil leads later, Miley handed her test in. She brushed some hair off her shoulders and glanced at Oliver who was chewing the tip of his eraser. He jotted something down, sighed, and walked to hand his paper in.

Finally, after forty-five minutes of awkward silence, the bell rang signaling lunch time. Lunch was the period where Lilly, Miley, and Oliver were able to relax and enjoy each other's company without being bothered by stuffy teachers or heavy textbooks. They usually poked fun at the students around them or just poked the inedible substance usually found on their plates.

Oliver was nibbling on the plain turkey sandwich his mom had packed him, Lilly was emptying a Crystal Light package into her water and Miley was gazing off into the distance, not paying attention to either of her friends or anything for that matter.

Suddenly, Miley caught a waft of too much perfume and too much hair gel. She was shoved out of her daydream of Hannah kissing Orlando Bloom when Amber plopped herself down in the seat next to her.

"Hey Miley," Amber said a little too sweetly.

"Amber," Miley replied shortly as Oliver and Lilly just stared at the unwelcome girl who had just ruined their peaceful lunch.

"I was just wondering what you're doing tonight?" She smiled sweetly.

"Uh, nothing, why?" Miley scrunched her eyebrows inwardly and waited for the snotty answer back.

Amber retrieved something from her purse quickly and waved it in Miley's face. "Well, I just wanted to let you know I'll be sitting in the front row of tonight's Hannah Montana concert and you won't." She giggled a bit with her dimwitted clone, Ashley, tagging behind her.

Miley rolled her eyes.

"Man, she's lucky. Front row at Hannah Montana," Oliver sighed.

"Oliver!" Both girls said in unison as they each hit an arm.

"Kidding, kidding," he chuckled.

"Anyway, Miles don't worry about Amber she was just saying it to get you mad. Besides, you have the best seat at the Hannah Montana concert." Lilly told her angered friend.

Miley nodded in agreement.

By the end of the day, the three friends were worn completely out and were walking home in silence. The April air was clean and warm against their skin.

"Did you hear they are having a sophomore musical?" Lilly asked breaking the silence. "Isn't that the lamest thing ever?" She chuckled a bit and turned to Oliver and Miley.

"I heard Amber already got the lead role," Miley breathed into the breeze.

"If only they knew the real talent at Seaview, Miles." Lilly smiled at her friend.

"Well I'll be making CDs while she's singing in high school musicals." Lilly and Miley chuckled evilly together as Oliver rolled his eyes.

The remainder of the walk was in silence. Miley was happy to be walking peacefully with her friends. No one was there to bother them. She had to remember to thank her dad tonight when she got home…it was his idea to keep Miley Stewart a secret.

It was about 5pm at the Dailey Tattler. Janelle Roberts had just left work. This unusual Wednesday had caught Janelle off guard. Now Janelle, even though she wrote for a celebrity gossip magazine, had some moral standards. She knew at home her seven year old daughter was prancing around, listening to the Hannah Montana CD her mom has just bought her.

Janelle had stared at that picture for hours wondering what to do. Wondering if what she had seen was true. Wondering if Hannah Montana did really exist.

By the end of the day, the picture and story were still sitting on her desk- waiting for her to decide the fate of Hannah. She would sleep on it. Thursdays always brought clearer heads.

Stay tuned to find out what happens to Miley!