Chapter 6

Miley hopped over a crack in the road, her backpack bouncing on her back. Lilly leaped over a larger one that zigzagged through the yellow median lane. She tripped and only managed to catch herself by flapping her arms up and down. She turned to face a snickering Miley, who was holding her stomach.

"You looked exactly like Pecker, my hen, tryin' to fly after she'd just fed."

Lilly scowled. The wind swooshed through the lone tree by the road, tossing its leaves back and forth, up and down. She closed her eyes. The wind whipped her hair over her shoulder and she imagined herself on Zuma Beach in Malibu, listening to the sound of the sea. A brown-haired boy in a dark blue hoodie strolled a little further behind them.

"Oliver's behind us," Lilly said.

"I know."

They had already passed the dirt road that led to his house. Either he missed his turn-off or he was following them. Or her. That constant staring had to get out of hand eventually.

"I invited him."

"You did?

"Yes."

"Shouldn't we wait for him?"

"If he really wanted to, he could catch up to us." Miley fell into step with Lilly, her hands yanking at the straps of her backpack, her eyes downcast.

Miley seemed to be right. Oliver ambled along, his hands in his pockets, kicking rocks into the fields. They turned onto the dirt road that led to the farm. The patting of footsteps drew closer. By the time Lilly turned around, Oliver had squeezed himself between her and Miley and wrapped his arms around their shoulders.

"What are my two favorite girls up to?"

Favorite girl? Yikes. The way Oliver smirked at Lilly and then Miley, the strange weight of his arm around her shoulder, and the stench of chocolate pudding in his breath made Lilly's skin prickle. She expected Miley to confront Oliver about ignoring her at school, but Miley instead leaned into his half-hug. Was that a freaking sigh that left her lips?

"Ya'll wanna hear a redneck joke?" Oliver grinned.

Lilly swore she heard Miley roll her eyes.

"All right. How do you know the toothbrush was invented by a redneck?"

Both Lilly and Miley stayed quiet, waiting for the punch line.

"Because anyone else would've called it a teethbrush." Oliver snorted out the last word.

Miley leaned away, and Lilly suppressed a laugh.

"Now, hold your horses." Miley broke free from his embrace and Oliver pulled his other arm away from Lilly's shoulder. "Didn't I just hear you say ya'll?"

Oliver clenched his jaw. "As if I'd ever—"

"—I heard it, too." Lilly swerved around the black and white Border Collie who circled their legs, tail wagging and tongue hanging out the side of its mouth.

They stopped in front of the front porch steps.

"Dagnabbit." Oliver raised his arms and let them fall back to his sides.

"An' you're at it again." Miley squatted down and let the dog lick her face, eyes pressed shut, nose wrinkled, and a wide smile on her face. She looked up at Oliver. "Give up. The South is in your blood."

"Good God Almighty, I'm really one of ya'll."

This time, all three of them burst out laughing.

Miley went inside the cottage and returned with a photo album. They huddled on the porch swing at the end of the front porch, Lilly crosslegged on one end, Oliver in the middle, and Miley on the other. She placed the photo album on Lilly's lap.

The swing swayed and creaked as Miley reached over Oliver's lap and tapped on a picture. "This was in the year ninety-nine. Daddy had just given me a water gun for my seventh birthday." Miley snickered and moved on to the next picture. "This was taken on the same day." The photograph depicted an eleven-year-old Jackson glowering into the camera, his clothes soaked through and his hair dripping wet.

The album also included many blurry night photos of raccoons, squirrels, and other Tennessee-native animals that Miley claimed she had taken herself. Lilly discovered a photo of Miley posing in front of a brightly lit chairoplane. Two girls stood on either side of her, their arms around each other's shoulders. Oliver knelt in front of them, flashing a victory sign. "Your friends?"

Miley dropped her gaze to her lap and picked at a loose thread of her sweater. "Former friends."

Oliver ahemed.

"Except for Oliver, of course."

The girl on the far left looked familiar. Hadn't Lilly seen her at school? If it had really been her, she had dressed far more stylishly than the Disney Princess shirt and flared jeans she wore in the photo. "What happened?"

Miley indicated a girl with hip-length wavy hair. "She moved to Nebraska."

"What about the others?" Lilly tensed, bracing herself for the expected response: silence and a shrug of the shoulders.

She wasn't let down. This time, though, Miley added, "It's complicated."

After they had finished flipping through the photo album, Miley disappeared into the cottage, saying, "I'll be lookin' for snacks to tide us over until Daddy is done in the kitchen."

"So, tell me." Oliver pushed the porch swing into motion with one foot while nudging Lilly in the side. "How are things going in Crowley Corners? Did the Stewarts already turn you into a cornbread-eating, gun-toting, Bible-thumping nut?"

Lilly snorted. Oliver ignored her at school, refused to have her sit next to him, and instead chose to stare at her several times a day. And his first move on her was a southern joke. "First, I haven't had cornbread or even been to church since I arrived here, and second, why didn't you ask me how I was doing, like, two weeks ago? We go to the same school, you know?"

Oliver leaned away, his back against the rest. "Miley has said everything there is to say."

"Dude, she hasn't said anything."

Oliver slowed the swing's motion and fixed her gaze. "What?"

"She always shuts me down when I ask."

"Oh, man. I asked her to explain it to you, but I should've expected her not to." He exhaled a long sigh. "Well, if Miley wasn't your hostess, wouldn't you ignore her, too?"

Maybe, based on what she had heard about her from Jake and Mikayla. But Oliver was friends with Miley, and if the rumors were true, he wouldn't keep hanging out with her, would he? Something didn't add up. "She isn't the only one you're ignoring. I mean, I have no right to expect you to talk to me, but now I can't help but think you don't mind."

"I don't. You're cool, okay?"

"So, what exactly is it?"

Oliver shook his head, a dry smile flitting across his lips. "I didn't want to be an outsider, okay. Not ever again."

Was he seriously implying… Lilly swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Perhaps it was her fault she hadn't made any friends at school. Maybe it was something about her that turned people off. But her friends in Malibu didn't seem to mind whatever it was, and neither did Miley. Lilly fiddled with the photo album on her lap. "A girl I thought I was getting along with has also started avoiding me." If she was completely honest with herself, she didn't appear to be popular with anyone. For the first two days, the boys had seemed to be talking to her with enthusiasm, but then the conversations became one-sided and quickly fizzled out.

"See, no one wants to be an outsider."

Ouch. She would call her mother first thing in the morning and beg her to allow her drop out of the student exchange program. But if she told her mother that no one wanted to be friends with her, she would probably simply suggest that she talk to the girls about their common interests. Even if they had some (which they didn't), it wouldn't work. It was hopeless. How was she going to get through the next eleven months?

"It's not you, okay. It's Miley."

Oh. "Miley?"

Oliver slumped back, the porch swing's chains rattling. "Many people are on Mikayla's side because they believe her. Others simply don't want to turn her against them and turn themselves into outsiders or bullying victims. The fact that you helped Miley in gym class has made the rounds. You're on her side now."

"Let me get this straight." Lilly pressed the photo album against her stomach. "Miley knew this could happen, but she still decided to return to school, and not only that, but to do a student exchange and drag me into her feud?"

"In some ways, it's my fault."

"Your fault?"

"Mikayla had been bragging last year about going to an arts academy for musicians in Chicago for tenth grade, and I passed that on to Miley."

"Mikayla's still here."

"No clue why. She hasn't mentioned the academy since. And, for the record, the student exchange wasn't my idea." He turned his head down, pushed his bangs out of his face, and peered up at Lilly. "However, I think it's really cool that you're here."

Lilly gave him a quick smile. Aside from Miley, he was most likely the only one. "Jake told me something pretty crude about Miley."

"So you already know?" Oliver's brows shot up before forming into a scowl. "She is innocent."

"Innocent? He told me his father saw her wandering the woods at night, covered in blood."

"Oh, that." He chuckled, stretching his legs out in front of him. "They're making up more and more ridiculous rumors. Only God knows why."

Nothing but a rumor, huh? And an embarrassingly silly one at that. She should have been able to figure it out on her own. "Of what?"

"Eh?"

"You said she's innocent. Innocent of what?"

Oliver stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You'll have to ask her."

"But she'll never tell me."

"Then I can't talk to you about it either. Sorry. It wouldn't make a difference anyway."

When Miley returned, instead of snacks, she could only offer a shrug. "Daddy caught me sneakin' Hershey's bars out of the kitchen. He is a little grumpy now. Probably because he thinks we prefer sweets to his meals, so make sure to compliment him on his cookin' skills durin' dinner."

"Holy Moly, this' so darn good it woulda brung tears to a glass eye," Oliver mimicked the southern accent with a rough voice. He grinned. "Is this good enough?"

Lilly snickered.

"You're so funny." Miley's exaggerated laugh quickly gave way to a scowl. "Not. Anyway, I need to help him in choppin' veggies. I'll call you when dinner is ready."

After Miley had gone inside, Oliver stood and paced up and down the front porch, before motioning for Lilly to follow him. "There's something I wanted to ask you." They stepped down from the front porch and strolled across the dirt road. The wind picked up, driving gray clouds across the darkening sky. The sun disappeared behind a cloud. "Nice weather, isn't it?"

Hardly. Not even Tennesseans could consider this weather nice. Lilly waited for him to ask her the question he really wanted to ask.

"About staring at you." He rubbed his neck. "To be honest, I think you're beautiful."

"You do?"

Oliver uh-huhed.

"Thanks." Lilly smiled to herself. Her boy friends had never called her beautiful; cute sure, but never beautiful. She had a hunch about where this was going.

"I understand we don't know each other very well." He paused. "In fact, we don't know each other at all." Another pause. "But if you want, we can change that. Because, eh, I'd love to." He came to a halt, his gaze shifting to the floor, where he kicked the tip of his shoe against the lawn. "Maybe on a date?"

He was fun to be around, had a dorky, if endearing smile, and wasn't all that bad looking. Like Aiden, who felt like a brother to her. Lilly picked at the rough bark of the weeping willow towering over her, which poured a lush green spring from its trunk.

"You've already got a boyfriend."

"I do. Five, to be exact."

"F-five?" Oliver blinked. "Is that a thing in California? Here in the country, we're still a bit old-fashioned. We… " Oliver paused for a second. "Five?"

A grin broke out on Lilly's face. She swatted his arm. "They're just friends. Friends that are boys, though."

Oliver cupped a hand over his heart. "You had me there for a second. And I was about to ask if you wanted a sixth."

"You're kidding."

"I think you're really cool, okay? You're not like the other girls I know."

This was not the first time she had heard this. Honestly, it would be nice to have someone else to hang out with besides Miley for a change. It wasn't like Oliver got down on one knee and proposed to her. One date wouldn't hurt, right? "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." Lilly shrugged her shoulders. "But only one date."

A crooked grin appeared on Oliver's face, and he leaned against the weeping willow, a gust of wind whipping the leafy branches to one side. "Just promise me you won't tell Miley about this."

"Why do—?" Lilly paused. "You used to date."

"What makes you even… ?" He cast a glance over at the cottage. "I just don't want her to feel like a third wheel."

As Lilly ripped open the curtains next morning, water drops speckled the leaves of the chestnut tree, and the lawn beneath shimmered damply in the sunlight. Miley's bed was vacant.

Lilly lumbered down the stairs, expecting the scent of scrambled eggs, but all she found was Jackson, leaning over the table and, much to her disappointment, sorting very much uncooked eggs from a basket and placing them in egg cartons.

"I shoulda gone to college, but no, my brilliant brain came up with the idea of jus' bummin' around at home." Jackson pffed and plopped another egg into the carton. "As if my old man would say, You have earned some time off. Here you go, son, the new PlayStation to keep you entertained. She is really livin' in high cotton, huh?" He mumbled some more gibberish until he noticed Lilly hovering under the door. "Mornin'."

"Where's everyone?"

"Dad an' Miley ain't here. Family emergency. A broken leg or something."

"A broken leg? Who—?"

"—They're fine." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's a third or second cousin or the hamster of a cousin. Who knows."

"A hamster?"

Jackson lifted his shoulder in a half shrug and stacked the full egg carton on top of the others.

It was already noon by the time Lilly finished reading the fifth girly magazine she had found on top of Miley's desk. The first one had already been an eye-rolling experience, but with Miley gone and Oliver unavailable, she had nothing else to do on a Sunday morning. How Miley could read this trash was completely beyond her. Apparently, guys were into clumsy girls, so girls should faceplant in front of their crushes. Bullcrap. Lilly's boy friends called her a kook if she fell off her surfboard too often, but if she surfed a particularly big wave, they patted her on the back and told her how she shredded the gnar. Yeah, clumsiness had its charms, but only girls seemed to think so.

Lilly ate yesterday's leftover pumpkin chilli from the tupperware with her name on it, then grabbed her skateboard and headed for Old Mill Road.

She pushed the skateboard into motion, gathering momentum. The breeze tore her hair over her shoulders and soaked through the fabric of her hoodie. She pushed the board's tail down, scraped the tip of her shoe across the deck, and jumped into an Ollie. The skateboard clacked back to the ground, and Lilly landed back on top of it. God, she had missed this so much. On the bumpy ground smutched with dried mud, the wheels rattled. In front of her, a huge clump of dried mud stuck to the asphalt. She could ollie over it. As she rolled closer, Lilly tensed her muscles and bent her knees. More clumps of mud stuck to the road ahead. Or not.

Holy smoke, she'd never be able to do so many jumps in a row. She leaped off the skateboard. The momentum propelled her staggering forward a few steps before coming to a halt. The skateboard rolled to the field's edge. She had guessed correctly right away. The streets were too crappy to skate on. She jammed her skateboard under her arm and wandered towards the sun.

After a while, Lilly turned off the asphalted street and onto a dirt road, which led her to a small wooded area where the burbling of a creek reached her ears. A totem pole at the edge of the forest cast a shadow over her, scowling faces stared past her to the horizon, and a carved eagle spread its wings at the very top. Lilly followed the creek's sound through the thicket, breathing the smell of damp moss and wet bark, until she came across a creek that cut through lush trees and dense scrub.

A raven-haired girl looked into the water, her back to Lilly, legs tucked beneath her and knees digging into the wet grass. Lilly shifted the skateboard in her arm and walked towards her. The girl reached out and tapped onto the clear water's surface, her reflection rippling, withered leaves floating by. She let out a strangled sob, then splashed her reflection with her fist.

Lilly stopped. "Is everything okay?"

The girl snapped her head around, and they both winced.

Mikayla gazed at her with swollen eyes, her cheeks damp from crying. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I'm fine."

"You're crying."

"Fucking state the obvious." Mikayla turned away and buried her face in her hands.

"Can I get you some hel—?"

A muffled croak: "—Fuck off."

Heat rose to Lilly's cheeks, and she put her free hand on her hip, jutting her chin out. Pff, she wouldn't take shit from Mikayla. Not when all she wanted to do was help.

Mikayla sat motionless on the riverbank, her shoulders trembling in silent tears, and Lilly felt silly after a moment of staring and continued down the creek.

Later that night, she was already dozing off when the metallic scraping of a key being turned into a lock drifted up to her. Muffled words, and footsteps pounding up the wooden stairs followed. A shaft of light fell on her comforter a second later. Lilly sat up. The door creaked open further. A silhouette stood against the corridor light.

"Miley?"

"You ain't sleepin' yet?"

Lilly rubbed her eyes. "I couldn't take my mind off Mikayla."

Miley remained motionless and silent beneath the door frame.

"She was crying."

"How do you… ?"

"I saw her at some creek east of here."

Miley walked over to Lilly and sat on the edge of her bed. The light from the corridor glinted in her moist eyes.

Huh? Did she feel sorry for Mikayla—for her bully?

Miley swallowed. "Did she… did she tell you why she was cryin'?"

"No, but you seem to have an idea."

Miley closed her eyes, and shook her head.

Oliver still didn't talk to Lilly at school, but he smirked at her whenever their gazes met. It was better than being completely ignored. They had met twice in secret in the previous week, and for those few hours, she had felt like she was back in Malibu with her friends. Today, Miley was busy cleaning the barn, so Lilly called Oliver to let him know she was free.

So come on over. I have a lot of DVDs waiting for you to be watched.

Grunts emitted from a barn as Lilly walked down the dirt road to his house, and she was immediately transported back to Malibu. It reminded her of her neighbor's garden pigs, her stuffed pig that grunted when she squeezed its belly, and all the times her boy friends invited her to an all-you-can-eat day at her local In-N-Out Burger.

When she was about to knock, the door was yanked open. She flinched. Oliver urged her further onto the front porch.

Lilly stumbled backward. "Jesus, take it easy. Aren't we going to watch a movie?"

"Oliver, don't forget—"

Oliver slammed the door shut, blocking out the bright voice. "I changed my mind. The weather is too nice to stay inside."

Sun-warmed air brushed Lilly's face. It was probably one of the last beautiful days of the year, but Lilly wasn't sure. She had only seen the season once before, when her parents took her on a camping trip to Bar Harbor a few years ago. Oliver led the way, and Lilly followed.

He held out the picnic basket to her. "I cleaned out the whole kitchen. Girls like to picnic, right?"

"Sure." A coral reef of flowers spread under the tree in the middle of the front yard. Lilly stopped. "How about this place?"

Oliver cast a backward glance at the house and rubbed his arm. "I know a better place. It's further away."

Lilly gave him a puzzled sidelong glance.

"And nicer, of course."

They walked back almost the same way Lilly had come, crossing Old Mill Road, and Lilly wondered why Oliver hadn't picked her up from the Stewart's farm right away. Corn plants twice their size stretched toward the sun.

"Are we even allowed to be here?" Lilly followed Oliver into the field. "I don't think the Stewarts own this land."

"You said you wanted to do something ill. Here you go."

Lilly would describe trespassing as stupid, not cool, especially when everyone in the south had shotguns. Leaves rustled as they pushed through the plants. "Aren't there other fields where we could do this picnic thing?"

"It's okay. This is Mr. Baker's property. Miley and I used to play hide and seek here with her friends." Oliver stopped as they reached a tiny clearing. He spread out a white and red checkered picnic blanket and retrieved a small loaf of bread, a jar of jam, a carton of apple juice, various fruits and two sets of plastic cutlery from the picnic basket.

Lilly gave him a bashful look as she pulled a bag of gummy worms from her hoodies side pocket. "I had no idea we were going to have a picnic. I only have these."

"No prob'."

The tall plants that surrounded them gave Lilly the impression that she was sitting in a cozy, sunlit cave.

Oliver cut her a slice of bread, and Lilly spread it with a thick layer of jam.

"The country isn't as bad as I first thought."

"You can't be serious."

"I mean, Crowley Corners could use some beaches, but there are worse places."

"You haven't spent nearly enough time in this godforsaken town. The stench of fertilizer is permanently lodged in my nostrils, and this darn accent haunts me in my sleep like country music played on a hurdy-gurdy by a toothless witch wearing a cowboy hat."

"Wow, that was kind of poetic—in a disturbing sort of way." Lilly bit into her bread, a fruity sweetness spreading in her mouth. "When did you actually move here?"

"About five years ago, when my dad accepted a position at UT Southern in Pulaski." Oliver shrugged, as if he did not want to talk about it any longer, and tossed a rubber worm into the air. He caught it with his mouth. A second and third worm followed. He caught Lilly's gaze and smirked. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Not when all of your friends can do it."

"How about this then?" He threw two worms into the air at the same time and caught them both in his open mouth.

Lilly chuckled. "Sexy."

"You think so?" Oliver wriggled his eyebrows and wrapped a arm around Lilly's waist.

"Not really. I just wanted to be polite."

"Jesus, thanks." He drew her against his side, and Lilly rested her head on his shoulder.

The corn plants behind them rustled as if someone was working their way through them. Lilly jerked her head around just as Miley broke through the dense leafy wall. Oliver yanked his hand away from Lilly's waist.

"This-this is my secret hideaway." Miley gaped at Oliver and Lilly, the dried mud on her cheek cracking. "You met without me?"

Lilly looked at Oliver as if to ask, Should we tell her the truth?

He shook his head.

"Y'all?"

The frown on Miley's face reinforced Lilly's conviction that she had made the right decision by keeping their relationship a secret. She already seemed to feel like a third wheel without even knowing they were dating.

"We thought you were cleaning the barn." Oliver tore a gummy worm in half.

"I was, but a girl needs her tea break now and then." Miley held up a cookie package and a thermos flask.

Lilly moved aside to make room on the blanket, and Miley patted the dust from her denim bibs and got down on her knees.

The three of them ate mostly quietly. After Lilly had eaten two jam sandwiches and half a bag of gummy worms, the apple juice seemed more sour than sweet. Just like Oliver's expression, that suggested he wasn't too thrilled Miley had cut their date short. At the very least, he seemed to enjoy the food, having devoured the majority of Miley's cookies as well as half of the bread.

They sprawled on the blanket, half-closed eyes watching fluffy clouds drift across the sky and long, narrow leaves flutter in the breeze. Lilly shifted her gaze to the side. Twinkling cobalt eyes turned wide, and Miley jerked her head away, eyelids fluttering shut. This was not the first time Lilly had caught her staring at her. It always seemed to happen when Miley thought she was too preoccupied with her homework or whatever they were doing at the time. Maybe Southerners had a thing for staring.

A/N: Don't worry, this is still a Liley story, not a Loliver story. (eww!)