Lily's POV:

I listened to the ringing on Miley's side of the phone, and waited for my mom to answer the phone.

"Hello?" I heard my mom's worried tone.

"Hey mom," I said nervously, watching Miley on the other side of the room.

"Lily," my mom sounded relieved. "Are you alright? Do you want me to come pick you up or something?"

I shook my head, not realizing she couldn't see it. "I was wondering if I could sleep over at Miley's."

When I asked that I could hear my mom sigh and I knew she was going to say no. "Do you realize," my mom started, "That you might have to start treatments tomorrow after school?"

"I know," I whined, twirling my hair around my finger. Miley looked at me with a strange look, mouthing to me whether everything was okay or not. I nodded.

"Alright," my mom gave up, and I could hear Blake in the background. And she sounded as if she was being a handful. "You can stay over. But take Advil if you get another headache and call me in the morning before you go to school." I agreed and my mom went on. "Then you have to come straight home from school, so that we can get to the hospital without being late for once."

"Alrighty," I laughed. "Got it, eat lots of junk food, and stay up all night. Bye mom!"

Now I was listening to Miley's music in the background, the hundreds of fans, and trying to ignore the headache that was coming. I wouldn't let this one ruin my fun.

"You okay there?" Miley's dad came up behind me. He had come out of Hannah Montana's dressing room, cleaning up the food table that Miley and I had attacked before the concert, "You seem a little sick."

"I'm fine," I laughed trying to make it seem as if I was.

Miley's dad walked closer to me, and sat down on the box in the corner where I was standing. "I don't know Lily," he crossed his arms across his chest, and sighed – just like my mom does when she tries to get information from me, "because your mom told me to look out for you."

"Look out for me?" I said, pretending to act surprised by this. "Why on earth would my mom say that?"

"Maybe because," Miley's dad rose his eyebrows. "You've been sick for the past three weeks."

I laughed again, this time out of nervousness. I had no idea what Mr. Stewart knew, "I really don't know what you mean," I told him. "I've been in San Francisco for three weeks with my parents."

"I'm sure," he smiled and started to get up from his seat on the boxes in the corner. "You girls be good, I've got to get some things ready back at home. The car should be outside when Ms. Hannah Montana is done." I nodded, "see you girls later."

I waved, and Miley's dad left through the back door. "Bye, pick up some s'mores on the way home?" He nodded, and officially left. While I waited until the concert was over, running Mr. Stewarts interrogation through my mind and completely not realizing that I hadn't noticed Miley coming off stage.

"Lola?" She waved her hand in front of my face. "Lola?"

I shook my head and came out of my daze, closing my eyes and I blinked at Miley standing in front of me, "oh hey Hannah." I waved with a smile. "When did you get out?"

Miley laughed and sat down next to me and just then did I notice I'd sat down on the floor after her dad had left, "Only a whole ten minutes ago." I looked over to where Miley sat next to me, and listened to the crowd still cheering for Hannah Montana. "Do you want to go now?" Miley asked, pointing her thumb towards the door, "I hear my dads bringing s'mores home."

"S'mores?" I laughed, panicking about whether Miley had heard or not. "Awesome, I love s'mores."

Miley smiled, and stood up – holding her hand out for me to take. "Me too," Miley said as we started to walk away. "I heard you convince him, good job my friend."

"Thank you," I said with my best Elvis impression. "Thank you, thank you very much."

We fell into hysterics, walking outside to the car that was waiting for us at the curb, and Miley finally took off her wig as we passed the crowds of fans by car and made our way onto the highway towards her house.