Chapter 17

Lilly fumbled for her cell phone, which buzzed and shrilled into the darkness. Her fingers brushed up against the scratched wood surface of her nightstand, the cold iron base of her lamp, and the smooth surface of her glass. It shattered on the floor. Lilly jerked up. She clicked on the bedside lamp and pressed the stop button on her cellphone.

Glass shards lay scattered across the ivory Persian rug beside her bed. Of course, the glass had to land on the hard floorboards. Lilly groaned and dropped back onto the mattress, her forearm covering her eyes. The day couldn't have started any better. She lay there for a while, listening to the silence and her own steady breathing. Her shoes and winter coat were piled on the floor on the opposite side of the bed.

Yesterday had been real. Hannah was Miley. She had been making a fool of Lilly the whole time, and Lilly hadn't noticed. Instead, she had defended her against Mikayla. Yikes, how could she have been so stupid? Lilly pressed her hands against her face and fought the urge to scream. Fuck Crowley Corners, fuck the Stewarts, and fuck Miley. She deserved every bit of the bullying.

Lilly's stomach knotted up. Okay, no. Nobody deserved to be bullied, but—

Her phone rang again, and she turned off the alarm.

There was no reason to go to school today. Lilly had been thinking about it all night; she would fly home tomorrow. But she couldn't possibly spend the entire day under the same roof as the Stewarts. No, Pinewood High was clearly the better option. In one fluid motion, Lilly swung her legs out of bed and jumped to her feet.

White-hot pain pierced the sole of her right foot. She cried out, fell back onto the mattress, and jerked her leg into her lap. A glass shard had pierced deep into the flesh on the sole of her foot. Oh God, why now of all times? She couldn't go to school with a shard of glass in her foot. She would have to pull it out. Blood pulsated from the wound, and scarlet drops dappled her white sheet. Lilly pocked the shard with a finger. For a split second, sharp pain flashed up. But how was she going to do it? She couldn't expect any help from the Stewarts.

Lilly swallowed the tears that had formed in her eyes. She wanted to go home. Where was Captain Kirk with his transporter when she needed him? Her cell phone buzzed again. Lilly clenched her teeth in a grimace, grabbed it from the nightstand, and smashed down on the off button. Freaking snooze alarm. She tossed it onto the bed and sat there for a long while, contemplating. She didn't make a big deal out of her skateboarding injuries, but this was so much worse than when her arm got up close and personal with a mesh wire fence a year ago. This time she couldn't just sit around waiting for help; she had to help herself.

Her thumb and forefinger gripped the shard. Her boy friends would mock her when they saw how much of a fuss she was making. Lilly took several deep breaths and ripped it out. The pain spiked for a second before returning to a burning sting. Tears escaped her eyes.

By the time Lilly reached the closet, ripped a towel from the drawer, and pressed it against the wound, scarlet drops had spun a jumbled pattern all over the carpet. This was the second carpet she had ruined. Damn. Both looked expensive. The bleeding subsided after a while and Lilly creaked her bedroom door open and looked down the corridor. Miley was probably still in her room.

Lilly looked through the bathroom cabinet for bandages but only found glittery bath bombs and pink sponges. The cotton pads were too small, and the guest towel was too thick. She was forced to use multiple layers of toilet paper to wrap the wound.

From her bedroom, she dialed her mother's phone number. She didn't pick up. She called her father, but he didn't answer his phone either. At this hour, they were already on their way to work on the Pacific Coast Highway, her blazer-clad mother in her luxurious convertible, and her father in his old Ford Mustang.

Footsteps padded down the corridor. The familiar, raspy voice came through the door. "Lilly?"

Lilly grabbed the stack of notebooks from her desk and stuffed them into her shoulder bag.

"Please talk to me."

Lilly yanked the zipper of her bag close. She had always wanted to talk, but Miley had always wanted to be Miss It's complicated. Now, what was there left to say? Miley was a liar. A sociopath.

The door creaked open. Lilly threw herself shoulder-first against it, and it slammed shut. She pressed one ear against the door and waited for the footsteps to fade down the corridor. She snatched her backpack from her bed and exited the room. She had planned to tiptoe out of the house, but when she got to the stairs, she realized she would fail. Every time she took a one-legged hop down a step, a thud reverberated down the stairway.

"Lilly?" Mr. Stewart's voice drifted from the kitchen. "Breakfast is ready."

She couldn't sit at the breakfast table with the Stewarts and act as if nothing had happened. She didn't need to eat. She could wait until lunch break. Lilly reached for her coat. The aroma of freshly baked waffles wafted through the foyer. Her stomach growled. That stupid thing. She tightened the belt on her coat. There was nothing wrong with grabbing a waffle to go, right?

Jackson was already seated at the kitchen table, appearing to be on a one-man binge orgy. He grunted as he shoved a whole waffle into his mouth. Mr. Stewart leaned against the stove and shook his head. When he took notice of Lilly, he shooed Jackson outside.

"I never know what to say when someone asks if I keep pigs on the farm." The smile slipped away from Mr. Stewart's face before it could fully form. The tense wrinkles around his eyes got deeper. "I was able to save you a few waffles." He placed a plate of waffles on the table and poured a caramel-colored sauce over them. Lilly caught a whiff of butter, honey, and cinnamon.

Mr. Stewart and his so stupidly brilliant it had-to-be black magic recipes. Lilly kept her gaze down as she slid into the chair and impaled a waffle on her fork. She hunched forward, letting her hair fall in front of her face. Hopefully, he wouldn't start a conversation with her. Lilly had finished one waffle before Mr. Stewart left the kitchen. The front door scraped shut and Lilly let out a deep sigh. She licked the remaining syrup off her plate, clattered it into the sink, and hobbled back into the foyer.

Thank god, her skateboard leaned still propped up against the wall next to the door. All she had to do now was get her injured foot into her shoe. She had switched from her Vans to her wide Etnies skateboard sneakers a few days before, and only a twinge shot through her foot as she slipped into them.

Blue and magenta flashed at the top of the stairs. Lilly looked up. Hannah's lips stretched into a smile as she descended the stairs in a model-like fashion. Lilly's heart drummed in her chest. Hannah dressed in the same multicolored dress and white Doc Martens she had worn during the concert. No. Lilly averted her gaze, and shook her head to clear her mind. Not Hannah. Miley in a blonde wig. Yikes, how could she still be starstruck despite knowing Miley was underneath that perfectly styled wig and glittery dress? She grabbed her skateboard.

"Lilly."

What was Miley up to? She should ignore her, but… Lilly turned around. Puffy, red-shot eyes met hers.

"It's nice to know I still have that effect on you."

Lilly's fingers curled around the strap of her shoulder bag. "What?"

"Making you speechless." Miley put on a fake accent. The neutral Hannah accent.

"That's-that's so… I'm not… " Miley looked so much more confident in her Hannah disguise. It was as if they were two completely different people. The phrase brilliant actress ran through Lilly's mind, and she immediately replaced it with brilliant liar.

"See." Miley's smile widened more, and Lilly's stomach tightened.

"Stop fucking manipulating me."

"I-I wasn't tryin' to."

"As if." Lilly yanked open the front door and slammed it shut behind her.

Miley missed school all day. Lilly limped from class to class, and despite her efforts to avoid putting too much strain on the wound, blood plastered her sock to her foot by the third period. Instead of taking notes, she chewed on the end of her pencil until the lead protruded from the gnawed wood and bitter-tasting splinters pecked her gums.

A cackle burst from Nancy's lips. "Lilly has a new favorite dish."

Lilly kept her gaze down.

During group work and lunch break, she sat alone. Nobody spoke to her.

It drizzled on her way home. The rollers beneath her feet rattled on the wet asphalt. The gray clouds above her seemed to be racing to be the first to push in front of the last rays of sunlight. Harvested fields passed her by, grim and muddy, like the desert after a month-long monsoon. The skateboard slowed, and Lilly pushed off with the toes of her injured foot. She slid around a small hole. A few feet in front of her, clumpy and muddy tire tracks led from the field on her left across the road. They weren't there this morning. Holy shit, she would never be able to do an ollie with her injured foot.

Lilly brazed herself for the fall.

The wheels caught on a chunk of mud, sending her smacking into the street. Her outstretched palms burned across the asphalt. She raised to her knees. Bloody flesh peeked through the scraped skin on her palms. Lilly clenched her teeth. Whatever. She was used to worse.

She hobbled the rest of the way to the farm, the skateboard acting as a crutch, its edge pressing painfully into her chafed hand. She stopped at the driveway to the Stewart farm. Aunt Dolly joined Miley on the front porch steps. She leaned forward, her arm around her shoulder, and talked to her.

Lilly was not going to walk past either of them. She would have to wait until they went back inside. She put her skateboard down, nudged it with her foot so it rolled to the side of the road, and plopped down on the deck. She called her mother's cell phone. It rang several times before the mailbox answered. Jesus, couldn't she just pick up for once? Lilly hung up and dialed again. On the last ring, Mrs. Truscott answered.

I'm in a meeting. Her tone was hushed. Is everything all right?

"No."

In the background, heels clacked on a linoleum floor, followed by the opening and clinking close of a glass door. What's wrong?

"Miley's a psychotic bitch."

Mrs. Truscott heaved a sigh. Can't you two work it out among yourselves?

"I want to go home."

We've discussed this quite a few times.

"But this time it's hella serious."

Mrs. Truscott remained silent.

Okay, what happened?

"I can't tell you."

Lilly?

"It's legit so heavy you wouldn't believe me."

I just know that for you teenagers, everything seems twice as bad as it really is. You were just telling me how sweet Miley is on the last call.

"I was wrong. Just like about Hannah Montana. They're both fucking liars."

Lilly. Mr. Truscott's tone took on a warning edge. You better not talk to Miley like that.

"Oh, yeah? Who cares how I talk to her?"

You always told me how much you liked farm life and how nice the Stewarts were. Should I be worried about you?

"Yeah, that's what I've been trying to tell you the whole time." The phone pressed painfully against Lilly's scraped hand, so she shifted it to the other.

I need to speak with Mr. Stewart before I can make any decisions.

"Mom, no! You can't."

Then tell me what happened.

Damn it. Couldn't her mother tell she was serious? "I can't. Mom, please."

For a short moment, Mrs. Truscott remained silent on the other end of the line. She sighed. I'll see what I can do.

Lilly cast a glance toward the cottage, just as Aunt Dolly looked up at her. She patted Miley on the shoulder, stood up, and walked into the house. "Could you do me another favor?"

Hmm?

"Could you take down all of my Hannah Montana posters before I return?"

I honestly don't know what's wrong with you.

"Just do it, please."

I'm thinking about it.

Thank God she had chosen to do a student exchange in the United States. It made the trip back home easier. She only had to cross five states rather than the entire ocean.

The short distance across the driveway to the house proved more difficult than the entire trip from school to the farm. Lilly tried hard to hide her limp, but she couldn't stop a thin-lipped grimace from crossing her face. She had reached the middle of the driveway when Miley rose from the steps. Cold sweat formed on Lilly's brow. She kept her gaze on the ground.

"You're limpin'."

Miley had better not act worried about how she was doing. She would never fall for it again. Lilly tucked her skateboard under her arm and rested her injured foot on the first step up to the front porch.

"What happened?"

Lilly jumped up a step on one leg. The skateboard slipped out from under her arm and clattered to the ground. Whatever. She couldn't use it in the house anyway. Miley placed her hand on Lilly's arm. Lilly flinched back. She just had to ignore her and then lock herself in her room until her mother called her back. She made another hop. Her foot slid off the edge of the step, and she toppled backward.

Two thin arms encircled her and held her upright. For a second, she met Miley's eyes, before pulling herself upright and yanking herself free of her grasp. Damn it, she had been putting so much strain on her left leg all day that she couldn't even do a simple hop anymore. Lilly slumped on the step. Miley followed suit. She was dressed in nothing but a thin long-sleeved shirt. The chilly air had turned her nose bright red.

"I'll return home tomorrow."

"But… I don't want you to leave."

A sour tang rose in the back of Lilly's throat. "Not hard to believe. Having no one to vent your sadistic tendencies on would be fatal, right?"

"What?"

"You can't lose your personal human shield against your bullies either, can you?"

"No, what are you talki—"

"—I was always there for you, and you spit on me!"

Tears brimmed in Miley's eyes. "All right, I lied. I lied about my identity, and I lied about promisin' you I wouldn't lie again, but it wasn't to hurt you. I'd never want to hurt you."

Were her tears fake too? Lilly stared down at her knees. What was the real Miley and what was just a mask? "What about Mikayla's scar? Did you lie about it being an accident?

"No. Please, you have to believe me."

"How can I believe a liar?"

"I had no choice."

"Do you really think that not telling me about your double life is the problem here?"

Miley averted her gaze.

"You could've told me you didn't want me to go out with Oliver. Instead, you used me to make him jealous by dressing up as Hannah and-and hitting on me. Did you expect him to realize how much he was missing out on by not being with you? Or did you think I'd break up with him if Hannah showed interest in me?" Lilly had spent the majority of the evening wondering why Miley had screwed her over. Both options were as bizarre as they were vomit-inducing.

Miley remained silent.

Of course, she couldn't expect Miley to respond. She had never answered her questions. Lilly rose from the steps.

"Wait." Miley rubbed her hands down the front of her pants. "I'm-I'm sorry."

"That's not an explanation."

"I-I… " A blush joined Miley's cold flushed cheeks, further reddening her face. "I'm not in love with Oliver."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm tellin' you the tru—"

" —Then what were you thinking? Did you just wake up one day and decide, Let's get crazy?"

"All I wanted was a True Friend."

"You already had me as a friend. There was no need for whatever the hell this sick Hannah thing was."

"I… I met One in A Million?"

Lilly's body tensed. "Are you-are you quoting Hannah Montana songs?"

"Uh… ain't we playin' quote a song?"

"I get it. To you, it's all a game." Miley was a sociopath. Lilly managed to jump up another step before Miley's soft voice reached her.

"It was never a game. This was never supposed to happen."

"What was never supposed to happen? The lies? The deception? Tell me."

Miley's gaze fell away, and she pulled her shirt sleeves over her hands. "Fallin'… " Her voice was as thin as the breeze that swirled up the withered leaves scattered across the front yard, but Lilly heard her.

Silence enveloped them.

Lilly let the implication sink in. It couldn't be, right? She would've noticed. Miley's shoulders slumped forward, her hair falling over her face in the same way Hannah's had when Lilly turned her down. Miley had never liked Oliver; it had always been her. Lilly's entire body heated up, flushing her cheeks hot. She faced away from Miley. That didn't make matters any better. Instead of just telling her how she felt, Miley had stabbed her in the back. "If that's your excuse for what you did… "

"No." Another soft whisper. "It's not meant to be an excuse."

So this one thing wasn't a lie. Hannah did like her, even more than Lilly had expected. There was only one problem: Hannah wasn't real.

"Oh, gosh." Miley reached for Lilly's wrist, but Lilly yanked her arm away. "What happened to your hand?"

"I'm fine."

Lilly hopped up the remaining stairs, one at a time. Just as she ripped open the screen door, the front door swung open, and she found herself face-to-face with Mr. Stewart. She took a step back, her gaze falling on the mud-smeared floorboards. She braced her shoulder against the wall.

"Lilly." Mr. Stewart heaved a sigh.

She squinted up at him. His warm blue eyes met hers. Couldn't the Stewarts just leave her alone?

"I just want ya to know ya can trust us." Mr. Stewart gave Miley a glance. "All of us."

Yeah, right. Nothing was easier than trusting a family of liars. Lilly merely nodded.

"I'm not sure what ya and Miley have already discussed, but I think we should all sit down and talk about this Hannah Montana thin'."

What did it matter to him? This was strictly between her and Miley. "There is nothing else to talk about."

Mr. Stewart raised his hands in an appeasing gesture. "I know. This is probably the last thin' ya want to worry about, but we'd leave town before chaos broke out around us. I'd understand, but it'd be preferable if ya didn't."

Lilly's gaze darted to Miley, who returned it with a frown. "Chaos?" If a zombie apocalypse had been announced, Lilly would have known.

"Ya don't think we're safe here any longer if the news that Miley is Hannah Montana reaches Mikayla and everyone else who thinks Miley hurt her to win the Talent Show."

"Why would—" Lilly was struck by realization. She had never given any thought to what she would do with Miley's secret. Would she tell the rest of the world? Her chest tightened in response. "No." Had she answered yes just a second ago, when she still thought Miley was a sociopath?

"No?"

"I haven't told anyone and don't intend to." Lilly cast a glance at Miley, whose frown replaced a soft glint in her eyes before she returned her attention to Mr. Stewart. "My mother will book a flight back home for me tomorrow."

"I see." Mr. Stewart exhaled loudly. "Of course, I'll drive ya to the airport."

Lilly had planned to take a cab, but she could save a hundred dollars this way.

Mr. Stewart stepped aside, allowing Lilly into the foyer before he closed the door behind him.

Lilly smelled Aunt Dolly before she saw her.

"Lilly?"

Jeez, did everyone want something from her today? She just wanted to take her blood-sodden shoe off and put her foot up. Aunt Dolly emerged from the kitchen, bringing with her a waft of heavy rose scent and freshly baked cookies. She held out a silver tray piled high with sugar-icing cupcakes topped with pink, magenta, and rose icing hearts.

"Try these, and everythin' will be fine."

Lilly licked her lips and gulped. "I'm not hungry."

"Miley said the same thin'." Aunt Dolly motioned for Lilly to come into the kitchen with her. "How about buttercream instead? "

"I really am full."

"Honey, I'm well aware that's an excuse. You look as hungry as a tick on a teddy bear."

The oven fan rattled and spread the aroma of sweet dough throughout the kitchen.

"Please take a seat."

Lilly sat at the kitchen table and sighed as she stretched out her aching foot. In the center of a white lace tablecloth stood a rose-filled porcelain vase. That had to be Aunt Dolly's doing. Aunt Dolly placed a plate with a caramel-bits-covered muffin and a teacup in front of Lilly. Using a sugar tong, she took four sugar cubes from a sugar bowl and dropped them into the teacup.

"Life ain't always pleasant. We must sweeten it for ourselves, or as Hannah puts it, "Life is what you make it, so let's make it sweet." Aunt Dolly laughed as she winked at Lilly.

"It's: let's make it rock." Lilly pressed her lips together. It wasn't like she cared anymore.

"Why don'tcha try the cupcakes?"

Should she really? God, they smelled amazing. A bite couldn't hurt, right? Lilly sunk her teeth into the fluffy pastry. Shocking sweetness settled on her tongue. Dolly's manicured fingers closed in a soft grip around her free hand and turned it palm upwards. Lilly tensed.

"How did this happen?"

Lilly wrenched her hand from Aunt Dolly's grasp and lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

"You can tell me."

"I fell off my skateboard."

Aunt Dolly hmmed. "I don't know much about skateboardin', but I don't believe these things should be used in the bedroom."

Lilly blinked at her.

"This could end in broken glass and a bloodbath."

She knew… "I'll pay for the carpet."

"Honey, don't be silly." Aunt Dolly pulled a chair from under the table and took a seat next to her. "All you have to do is tell me what happened."

Why was Aunt Dolly so sweet and caring to her? They had only met twice before. What did she hope to achieve?

"How about you try the tea first?"

The hot steam wiggled its way out of the cup like a cobra dancing out of a basket to the sound of a flute. Lilly took a sip. It was just as sweet as the muffin. She reclined in her chair. "I knocked my glass off the nightstand and stepped in the shards."

Aunt Dolly's eyebrows shoot up. "Did you, at the very least, bandage the wound?"

Lilly nodded.

"Let me take a look."

"You don't have to."

"You bet I do." Aunt Dolly rested her hand on her hip. "When I was sittin' on the front porch, I saw you limpin' down that street. You looked like somethin' the cat dragged in."

Lilly took off her shoe. The white insole was blotched with red stains. Aunt Dolly drew in a sharp breath. Lilly pulled the sock off her foot. Scraps of blood-soaked toilet paper clung to the wound.

"Goodness gracious. That hardly qualifies as bandagin'."

"I couldn't find any dressing material."

"You oughta said somethin'. You're lucky that Nurse Dolly is here today."

"You're a nurse?"

"No, but with a klutz of a husband and no hospital nearby, you've got to learn a thin' or two." Aunt Dolly left the kitchen and returned with a first-aid kit. She told Lilly to put her leg on her lap. "Miley had somethin' similar happen to her once."

Lilly didn't care.

"It was the summer of ninety-seven, and there was an ant plague in this area." Aunt Dolly took a spray bottle labeled First Aid Antiseptic from the first aid kit. "I'm sorry, but this may sting a little."

A mist rose in the air, biting the wound.

Lilly winced.

"We returned from a picnic in the woods. The meadow we had to cross was full of ant hills and, of course, ants. It was not a pleasant sight."

Lilly flinched as Aunt Dolly used five suture strips to close the wound.

"Miley refused to cross the meadow because she didn't want to harm the ants. So Robby Ray carried her on his shoulders. She wriggled and cried the entire time, terrified that he'd trample the ants to death. He had no choice but to put her down. Miley took off her shoes to tiptoe through the ant hills. We didn't realize they were fire ants. The poor thin' couldn't walk for days and had to be carried everywhere." After Aunt Dolly finished dressing the cut, she bandaged up the shavings on Lilly's palms. "Have as many muffins and tea as you like." She pushed the plate closer to Lilly.

"Thanks." The stench of burning dough filled Lilly's nostrils.

"The muffins!" Aunt Dolly leaped out of her chair and snatched the pot rag off the table.

Lilly seized the opportunity to escape upstairs. She drew her suitcase from beneath the bed, ripped her clothes from the hangar, and stuffed them inside. What did Aunt Dolly think she was doing manipulating her with her godly muffins and Miley's stupid childhood story? Miley had been a sweet child, but hadn't everyone? People changed as they grew older.

Lilly sagged onto the bed. Okay, perhaps she still loved animals, and maybe scarring Mikayla was an accident, but that didn't change the fact that she had dressed up as Hannah and made a fool of her. Lilly clenched her fists. This-this stupid—

She jumped up from her bed. All she had to do was pack her cosmetic bag and she was done. Lilly pushed open the bathroom door and froze. Hannah smiled at her from the front of her cosmetic bag on the shelf above the sink. Even on the darkest days, her contagious smile would lift her spirits. Lilly ran her finger over the rubbery picture and stared at her for a long time. But those days were over. Hannah wasn't real. Miley had taken her away from her. She choked down a sob and pressed her hand against her mouth. Jeez, what was wrong with her? She grabbed the cosmetic bag, emptied its contents into the front pocket of her hoodie, and tossed it into the wastebasket beneath the sink. Hopefully, her mother would call soon. Once she was back in Malibu and away from Miley, everything would make sense again.