It's a matter of time before we all run out

When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth

"Lilly!" I hear the car horn beep, and Miley scream at me from my driveway. I smile, yell my goodbyes, and run out to the car.

"Hurry up!" Oliver yells, as I walk down to the convertible. Miley bought it with a small amount of the 'Hannah money' that she'd earned since she begun singing, and it had become our preferred mode of transport ever since. "Ashley said that there was no such thing as fashionably late."

I roll my eyes. "Of course there's such thing as fashionably late! It's just not fashionable in her eyes."

"But what is unfashionable in Ashley's eyes..." Miley says, as I jumped over the door of the car, and settled in the passenger seat.

"Is totally fashionable in everyone else's," I finish, fastening my seatbelt and ignoring the look of disapproval on Miley's face. Okay, seriously, if you want people to have to open the door of your car, then don't get one that you can jump in. Hello, it's called logic. "And don't look at me like that. You can't have a convertible, and not expect people to just jump over the door and into your car."

Miley rolls her eyes. "I know. Oliver did it too. I swear, you guys have no regard for the paintwork of my car."

"Were we supposed to?" Oliver asks, prompting a groan from Miley.

"You guys just do not understand," she says, and starts up the car again. "Now remind me again, why are we going to this party?"

I shrug, and point to Oliver, who is sat behind me. Even though he got picked up first, he knows better than to call shotgun. "His idea."

"And you couldn't say no," Miley smirks. I swear, for someone who has to hide a secret every day of her life, she sure is bad at hiding other people's secrets.

"I could. And I did. But he wouldn't let me," I defend myself. "He was all 'it's not like you have anything better to do on Friday anyway'."

Oliver laughs. "That was a really bad impression of me."

"I wasn't trying to sound like you. I was trying to sound annoying... wait. Sorry. Yeah. Forgot that they were both the same thing!" I reply.

"Oh, so I'm annoying?" Oliver asks, a tiny smile making his lips curve upwards.

I turn around to look at him. "Yes. Very. Most of the time I find myself wondering how I put up with you."

"I think you have me confused with someone high-maintenance," Oliver retorts, sticking the tip of his tongue out at me. I do the same, and for a minute we're not going to Amber and Ashley's stupid party. We're going to the beach, or the mall, or somewhere where we don't have to be what's expected of us.

Not that people expect much of us.

"Because that wouldn't be you at all, would it Oliver?" Miley asks, too busy concentrating on the road to see me and Oliver, sticking our tongues out at each other, like we're five again.

"What are you implying?" Oliver asks, putting his tongue back in his mouth, and catching Miley's eye in the rear-view mirror.

Miley turns right, onto Amber's street, and smiles. "I'm implying nothing. You're so paranoid Oliver."

It's obvious which house is Amber's. The biggest one, at the end of the street. The one that has the amazingly loud music playing (it's Fergie; you can hear it from here) and has all the kids swarming around it. It's the one that looks the most expensive. And, obviously, it's the only one with a swimming pool the size of our cafeteria.

"Looks wild," Oliver comments, voicing what all three of us are thinking.

I nod. "It sure does."

"Well... let's go and check it out," he says, climbing over the door of the car, and putting his feet on the ground.

Miley looks at him menacingly. "Lilly, you'd better use the door to get out, or so help me God..."

I pull back the door handle, and push it open before I can find out exactly what she'd do to me if I didn't. "Coming Oliver!"

---

Wild is an understatement. So far, I've seen three people get pushed into the swimming pool (fully clothed), two people hurling their guts out onto the carpet, and more than a dozen people kissing someone else's boyfriend. And while that may not sound out of place in a show like The O.C, here in Malibu, it's not really expected.

"Lilly!" Miley runs up to me, a hurt look on her face. "Jake is here with another girl. A girl who isn't me. He's here, with a girl, who isn't me. Not me; the girl. She doesn't talk like me, or look like me, or dress like me..."

I stare at her. "So... he's definitely not here with you then?"

"No! And that's the problem! When I said I didn't want to go out with him, I meant that he should ask me again in a few days!" Miley stamps her foot. "I mean, he's never let me down before!"

I look around the room, spotting Jake dancing in a corner with a leggy blonde. "Well, maybe he needs to wait a few more days. Just to get her out of his system."

"Lilly! What am I going to do?" Miley says, her bottom lip sticking out further than it usually did. "I really like Jake. But I just assumed..."

"Never assume!" Oliver pops up behind her. Where has he been? "Because when you assume, it makes an ass, out of u and me. You get it?"

Miley rolls her eyes, and stalks off, probably trying to find someone that she can make Jake jealous with. Not that she'll be able to go through with that plan. She has limits. And kissing someone while you're hopelessly in love with someone else is one of those limits.

I think.

"I guess she didn't get it," Oliver sighs, watching Miley leave the room. "Did you?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Oliver. I got it."

"Anyway," he says, gazing around the room. The music is quieter now, although maybe it's just the fact that I'm used to it. "You having fun?"

"I'm not sure 'fun' would be the word I'd use to describe it," I admit, tilting my head up to look at him.

Oliver turns his head to look at me. "So what word would you use?"

"Hellish, maybe?" I reply.

He laughs. "Harsh. Well, if it makes it any better, I'm glad you're here."

Wait. Did I hear that right? He's glad that I'm here? He's glad that I'm here? If Miley weren't on a mission to get back at Jake, I'd ask her what she thinks that means. But, because she's AWOL, I'm stuck here, trying to think of something cool and collected to say back.

"I mean, I wouldn't have come if you hadn't agreed to come with me," Oliver carried on, oblivious to my silence. "But you did, and so we're here."

Yes. We are. Duh.

What do I say? What do I say? What do I say?

"You're being really quiet Lilly," Oliver turns to me, an almost concerned look on his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Sorry. Just... taking everything in," I answer, mentally hitting myself. What a lame excuse! Taking everything in? You're not a spy Lilly. There is no need to 'take everything in'.

"Attention please!" Amber cries, and Oliver turns to look at her. I sigh with relief. At least the interrogation is over for now. And, knowing Oliver, he'll have forgotten about it by the time that Amber has finished her speech.

"Attention! Okay! So... welcome to another of our fabulous parties! I hope you're all having a totally awesome time, and just want to let you all know, that in a few minutes, we'll be hosting a dance competition! So, ladies, grab your guys, and our amazing judges will observe you all. Obviously hosts get first pick!" she squeals, and then puts down the microphone.

Oliver turns back to look at me. "You sure you're okay?"

No. No, I'm not okay.

I look out at the people in front of me; most of them moving into couples. Just ask him to dance, Lilly. Open your mouth, and casually suggest that you dance. It doesn't have to be anything more than that.

"Actually..." I begin, and Oliver looks at me, giving me his full attention.

"Oliver!" a loud screech interrupts me. "Oliver Oken!"

Oliver turns around, and comes face to face with Amber. Scary. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, she's pressed up against him.

Her mouth on his. His mouth on hers. My mouth open.

It feels like they're spinning, further away from me. It's like I'm being pushed away. Like gust of wind came along, and blew me out of the picture.

"Dance with me?" Amber breathes, when she pulls away.

And Oliver, being Oliver, nods. "Sure."

If only he knew how much that one word broke me.

Yes, it will be a Loliver. Eventually. If any of you have heard the song 'Misery Business' by Paramore, you'll know how it goes.