A/N: Super special thanks to ekmemerald for giving me the idea for this chapter. SUPER SPECIAL!
The rest of the day I could barely pay attention to what I was doing. I ran into four walls, tripped over ten things/people, and ignored three people. Make that four.
"Miley? Miley? Hello?" Lily waved a hand in my face. "Earth to Miley?" An alert expression replaced my spacey one and I asked irritably, "What do you want?" Lily rolled her eyes. "I asked you if you wanted to solve for x or if you wanted to find an equivalent ratio for thirty fifths over one-hundred-twenty," Lily calmly explained. "Equivalent ratio," I claimed immediately. I'm not a total math whiz, but I get by. Equivalent ratios are definitely my strong point, since I love multiplication and addition, and normally, to get an equivalent ratio, you've got to multiply (or divide if preferred). Lily began solving for x (algebra). I worked the problem quickly, devoting half of my brain to math and the other half to devising my plan.
"Miley, are you finished? We've gone to turn in the finished (as in done) assignment before the bell rings or the ones we didn't complete will be marked wrong!" Lily urged, jostling my arm slightly. I sluggishly handed her the piece of paper with my equation. She scanned the work until she reached my solution, where she let out an exasperated sigh. She jabbed a finger at the answer and quiet-yelled, "Miley! The solution to the problem is not 'Luanne!' You're obsessed with her. Don't worry; we'll definitely take her down when the time is right and before she can do much damage. But right now, it's best to play innocent. Unless you need to go talk to the guidance councilor and tell her all about you being Hannah Montana!"
"I'm sorry," I apologized sincerely and genuinely. "Let me work over the problem again. My work is mathematical and not-Luanne related, so I'm sure if I just take another look at what I've already deciphered I can figure out the solution." Lily handed me back my sheet and I took another look at the work I'd already done. The problem was extremely simple, but my work was sloppy, so I completely redid everything quick. First I changed thirty fifths to a mixed fraction, which was six. Then I multiplied it by two, the smallest and easiest number (who cared about impressing anybody?). That was twelve, obviously. Then I doubled one-hundred-twenty, which equaled two-hundred-forty. I quickly wrote two over two-hundred-forty, reduced it to one over one-hundred-twenty, and I was done. Quick and easy. Probably the easiest problem on the sheet and I still had difficulties with it! Luanne was taking over.
"Here." I proudly extended my piece, Lily copied down the answer underneath the problem on the actual worksheet, stapled our work to the back, and turned it in to the bin. Then we were allowed to talk. Lily purposefully avoided conversation that included Luanne or Hannah Montana, so no scheming took place. Then, after approximately five minutes, the bell rang and all of the eager students crowded in the halls so they could quickly grab their things and be on their way home for a school-free weekend. Of course, I wasn't so eager because Luanne could easily break her promise. I knew I was going to be in for a week of ruing, jitters, and anxiousness. Goody!
Lily and I walked home together, and she again dodged anything that she thought would be dangerous (verbally, not physically). When we reached my house, I said goodbye to her and hurried inside to talk to my dad. He wasn't home. And neither was Jackson, apparently. But I heard something coming from the basement. I quietly tiptoed down the stairs, grateful for the carpet to stifle the sounds my feet would make smacking against hard floor. When I reached the almost-bottom of the stairs, I tucked my hair into my shirt (the back) and peered around. In the TV corner I saw a blonde watching TV and obnoxiously shoving varieties of our food into her mouth. It was pretty disgusting. But then the blonde heard me and she jerked around. I should've known. It was Hannah-Luanne.
"Howdy, Miley—I mean, hey, Miley!" she greeted, switching accents quickly. She was obviously trying to adjust to the unfamiliar one. I only stared at her. "Luanne, I thought you weren't going to tell my dad that you snuck away. He obviously must have noticed when Hannah walked in the door, since he knew I was at school." Luanne snorted, but quickly clapped a hand to cover her mouth and nose, suppressing the sound. "Please! I stealthily studied his schedule (well, I overheard him talking about it on the phone), and I knew he would be at a restaurant meeting with Uncle Earl right about now, so I snuck in through that window over there"—she pointed nonchalantly—"and grabbed some food after I knew he was truly and for surely gone. I knew you'd be home soon but I didn't think much of it, seeing as you already know how I'm stealing your secret and all."
"You are not," I sneered, "stealing my secret. I'm letting you borrow it." Luanne laughed cruelly. "Letting me? No, I'm letting you keep it," she challenged, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head as if to say, "Bring it on, you can't hurt me, I have something over you!" And she did. If I lunged for her, maybe I could grab my wig and a chunk of her real hair, but that wouldn't accomplish much since she'd just tell my secret when she got away. If I started verbally combating her, she'd do the same thing, or at least threaten to. It was a lose-lose situation, unless I could craftily (and safely) make my way out of it. Maybe she'd still "have my secret" (as she puts it), but so would I. So I pantomimed sighing (my fake sighs sound odd so I just make it look like I'm sighing, which usually works) and began acting.
"Luanne, you're right. Sorry. I guess I should be more grateful, since not only are you letting me still be Hannah and Miley, but you're improving Hannah's name! I mean, that performance today, that was amazing! And I totally understand you wanting some more attention—Jackson does that, too! Hug?" I inched closer. She smiled and wrapped her arms around me briefly, then backed off and wiped herself as if cleaning away the "Miley-germs."
I decided to let Luanne have her fun. She'd abandon the scene when my daddy and Jackson got home, which could be soon, so I let her be. Besides, I did feel kind of bad for her—her parents are pretty strict. I ascended the stairs, but hung back a bit when I reached the almost-top, in case Luanne was going to say anything to herself about me. She did.
"I have something to tell you, Diana," she whispered almost inaudibly. "Well, the truth is I'm not just one person—I'm two. I'm really Luanne Stewart, from Tennessee, but I flew up here to become Hannah Montana. That's right, world, Luanne Stewart is Hannah Montana!"