My mom stops in the plane's aisle, and directs me to the right. I plop down in the window seat.

A funky, techno beat jumps into my headphones.

'Don't stop now…

Hey, girl

I don't really wanna do nothin' today,

Just wanna do you tonight…'

A small smile manages to make its way onto my face, and I actually feel some heat rise to my cheeks and neck. I stare out at the gorgeous pastel sunrise and the shadowed plane tail yards away from me and my window.

Honest? Miley definitely made up for that miserable period of time of and after the Fourth of July.

God.

-

Instead of ringing the doorbell, I'm alerted to go meet Miley like I planned half-an-hour ago by the sound of a horn.

I get off the couch and find my mom, who I was sitting next to, grinning into her cup of coffee. It is 9:30-something, after all.

"I can't believe you didn't actually get me a ticket," I said to her. My mom wasn't the only one in for a surprise when I woke up an hour earlier this morning to explain to her I got Miley visiting family confused with her leaving for school, only to find she never even got me a plane ticket for me to fear having to ask her to return.

"I can't believe you thought your friend actually left for school, when she was only a city over."

"Har har. Bye, mom."

"Bye, be safe, have fun," she says as she stretches out onto the rest of the couch.

I practically sprint to the door and out of it. Why is Miley in a car?

I step out on to the porch, the day has started and it's pretty hot out. I'm in a gray tank top, dark denim shorts, and lime green flip flops.

In the middle of the road, I find a worn baby blue Ford pick up. The tires are dusty and beat; there are rust stains all over the truck's body. Rising from the tires are splatters of dried dirt and mud. In fact, there's mud all over the thing.

I look up to the window to find Miley grinning down at me from the driver's seat. I've had my permit for three months.

I walk around the front of the truck, when it suddenly purrs and jolts forward at me a tad. I thrust my hand out as if to slap it back. I look up through the filthy windshield to find Miley cackling her head off at me. I roll my eyes but can't help but grin.

Her hair is all wavy and scrunchy and sexy. I have to practically hoist myself into the high, worn and scratched chestnut leather seat. It smells like, well, old leather and vanilla.

"Welcome to the Miley-mobile," Miley says to me in a tone I find oddly sultry for some reason, as she yanks back the stick and reverses to turn.

I ignore the heat that rises to my cheeks; I feel suddenly bashful or something.

Miley drives straight and I study her form. Her fingers are wrapped around the wheel, her legs are kind of spread, she's sort of slouched as she gazes ahead.

Miley driving a car is ridiculously hot… Keyword: ridiculously.

"What?" She questions with a prideful smirk when she finds me devouring her form, particularly the amount of her legs leftover by her extremely short shorts, the light-washed hole-y ones she wore the first time I ever met her on the side of her house as she did yard work.

"Uh…" I consider giving her the compliment stuck in my head, but decide against it. "Nothing."

"No, what is it?" She repeats, now chuckling, but her eyes are on the road.

"Do you even have your license?"

"Well, I have my tractor's license and my permit…"

"Oh, great. I'm being chauffeured by a criminal."

She giggles and backhands me playfully in the arm.

It's just me and Miley and the butterflies finally catch up to that fact. I grin goofily out the window. I can't help it. I catch a glimpse of myself in the huge, rectangular side view to find my face beet red. God, I'm such a dork. I force the smile off my face and try to calm down.

"So, aren't you curious as t' where I might be kidnappin' ya to?"

"Yes, I am. Where would that be?"

"Mars."

"Mars, hm?"

"Yeah, Mars."

I shoot her an inquisitive look. Where is she taking me?

"You'll see."

I think Miley can read minds.

A few minutes down the road, past the left we take to get into town, Miley suddenly veers a left and I gasp, which I feel stupid for doing.

Miley just laughs.

We flatten our way through tall stalks of some type, and veer off until we're alongside some trees and the brotherin of those flattened stalks.

I brace the door and the edge of the seat closest to Miley's bracelet covered wrist jerked the stick shift forcefully, and we bang another sharp left.

Now we're rolling lazily down a wide, shady dirt road in the forest that I see is already covered with tire-tracks.

I figure out that we're going off-roading.

"Oh, god, Miley…"

She just grins devilishly, and I'm suddenly filled with adoration for the expression. Over and over, I can't help thinking how hot she is. I'm almost embarrassed of myself. Could I at least choose another word? I have to naturally see her as hot?

We continue down the road, I see a little hole of light far up ahead, and I find that that's not true. Miley is a lot of words, and yes, 'hot' is in that mixture, but she's also so much more. It's just, right now, as I watch her work the stick shift impressively and concentrate on the road, I find her hot.

And we need to talk. We really do. I know Miley apologized… but how do I know she won't change her mind on me again?

But I'll save that for later. For now, I just want to have fun and stay in this good mood.

"You know what…" Miley mutters to herself as she checks her gauges. And suddenly I am pressed forcefully into my seat as the truck thrusts forwards and Miley accelerates. I watch the speedometer. We're hitting eighty. Ninety… and she slows down.

I laugh, almost of nervousness. Then I scold. "You could have hit a deer or something, you dork!"

"But, I didn't, so, uh, shush." And she grins over at me like she can't help but do it.

I know the feeling.

Now I see the sky and trees aren't blocking it; but then I look a little lower out of the windshield and find we're up at the top of a very steep hill.

Miley looks over to me, hands on the wheel, arms suspended. The wheel and rest of the truck are almost too big for lanky ol' Miley.

I feel anxious, a tad scared. This is how accidents happen; stupid things like this.

Miley takes her hands off the wheel and my heart beats in my throat uneasily.

My heartbeat rackets even higher when Miley reaches around me and grabs my unoccupied seatbelt, and pulls it over me. She happens to brush along my chest in the process and I have to take a slow blink. The car is suddenly piercingly silent until she clicks the seatbelt in.

"You nervous?" Miley whispers, and again her voice sounds so seductive and after the physical contact she just made with me, as small as it was, her words get quite the reaction from me. Damn my untapped hormones.

I turn my head over as its tilted back against the seat to find her eyes scanning upward hastily.

"A little bit," I admit.

"I can tell. But don't worry, I would never do anythin' to hurt you. Not again."

I gaze meaningfully into navy blue, and I not only hope she means this, but know she does.

She feels the same, she feels the same…

I'm so lost in her eyes, I'm startled when we begin rolling, and Miley laughs, and we begin to roll faster and then Miley puts her foot on the gas and jerks the stick shift again and we're flying down the winding road. Tall trees and unruly bushes flicker by me, and I brace the door and my seat again. Miley throws her entire body into twisting the wheel hastily, and we're falling and swerving and I'm clenching my teeth and feeling like I'm on a roller coaster, except I feel even safer. People die on roller coasters but Miley has sworn not to hurt me anymore. I feel fine. It's stupid, the reality of it, kids die doing this shit, too, and yet we wouldn't be doing it if Miley thought I'd really get hurt.

We're finally at the bottom of the hill, and just as I'm wondering why that was called mars, I see a huge, mile-wide ditch of crimson dirt with tons of donuts swerves and holes down below a steep wall of more orange dirt.

Miley doesn't go down it yet. We're laughing and catching our breath.

"Ready?" She asks.

"As I'll ever be"

And she makes it so we topple down, and for a moment I swear we're going to flip forward, but we don't.

Miley goes to the left where all I can see is open land, and it really does look like mars, except for the blue sky above us and power lines in the distance, and the trees high up above.

Miley speeds up to one-hundred-ten or so, which I'm surprised this truck can manage, then decelerate and we spin and spin and I feel like we could never stop. All I see is orange dirt sputtering up everywhere outside of the windows.

We continue farther left, until I spot a wide, probably four foot high dirt ramp. Miley speeds towards it and we soar in mid-air for a moment, then crash land, and my heart has been in my throat since I got in the truck, and I want to kiss Miley but I don't know if she wants to kiss me.

I'm laughing, and so is she and our eyes meet again.

"Did you have breakfast yet?" she asks as we drive along.

"No, I wasn't hungry when I got up."

"Which was unusu'ly early, I noticed."

She's right. I woke up especially early because I want to spend an entire day with her. Yesterday and the day before I was getting up at 2 pm.

"How 'bout we go grab somethin'?"

"With the money I don't have?"

"Who said you were payin'?"

I grin. But I am a little confused… when it's a girl-girl relationship, how do things like paying for the date or picking up work? The guy usually does all of that.

"Well, I did ask you to hang out, didn't I?" Miley answers for me.

I really do swear she can read minds.

-

She tastes… fruity. Like some type of watermelon candy.

I don't even know where I am right now. The car roof and car walls and stick shift and the bluest blue sky outside the windshield and the passenger seat my hip juts against as I lean twisted awkwardly over the center console have slipped into oblivion.

Miley kisses soft and slow and tauntingly, even though I'm no longer taunted but have finally been granted her lips on mine. All I feel is the hard, serrated edges of her teeth raking feather-light along my bottom lip as she sucks. God, she can kiss.

My hand rests on her thigh. I've never been lost in a kiss like this. I offhandedly note the only pieces of my body I can feel are the ones touching Miley.

Being in such close proximity with her hair is sending me in a whirlwind of vanilla and Miley. I swear no one else smells as good. Amber spells like Love Spell and Ashley smells like Hollister, but no one could pull off vanilla and laundry detergent like Miley can.

The scent sends a beat of what I now recognize as arousal through me and forces a light whimper straight out of my throat.

Miley's warm hands line my jaw, I realize as she breaks our kiss and rests her nose beside mine and sends hot tickles of breath over my lips. "Oh, God, Lilly…" she groans against my lips before crashing hers against them again.

She's leaning towards me, pushing me back into my spacey seat until I'm flat on my back, and the heat on the sides of my face is lost as she momentarily removes her hands. She braces the sides of my seat and sits one knee on the outsides of my thighs; she's straddling me.

I feel like I'm in a dentist's office when she reaches between the door and the seat and I catch a glimpse of the trees back on the window, as we're back at 'Mars' by now, and I'm tilting back gently.

I can't really stand how sexy it all is; how turned on I am. I've got a death grip on the door pocket and another curled with slight pressure around Miley's insanely smooth, bare thigh. I'm throbbing sensually; to be honest, I didn't really know I was capable of doing so. I didn't know it could be so pleasurable, either.

My eyes shut heavily, I'm in a daze, and Miley's lips come back to mine. Her hands trail up my sides and I immediately erupt in chills. God, it feels so good…

She rubs her lips against mine; and I slowly part mine. My hands stiffly release their hold of her car and I bury and thread them through her curls. Her hands pause in their movement against my hips and squeeze just enough to make me groan. Pressure, it's all about the correct amount of pressure.

I run my nails along her scalp, twist locks of her hair lightly around my fingertips. She exhales a sigh through her nose.

She begins sucking on my lower lip again, and I realize how swollen it feels between her lip and teeth. Oh man, she's amazing at this.

Her tongue is in my mouth. The girl, the horse-riding, fun-loving, fashionable, happy-go-lucky, silly to no end brunette I fell for sitting in a fast-food chain restaurant is pushing her tongue into—

"What'll you have for drinks, girls?"

I blink at the 'Beverages' section of the Winson Diner menu and ask the waiter for a chocolate that Miley mirrors, and shrink into my seat while I try to somehow summon cool air to the surface of my cheeks and neck.

I look everywhere but at Miley, until she says "Y'okay over there?" and I stop dead in my tracks when I look up and drink in her expression.

I don't know why the hell I find it so alluring, but she has that toothless, half-smirk planted on her face that splits to reveal pearly whites when I stare for a second's duration, as well as a raised, perfectly-manicured eyebrow.

She's so… eugh, god…

"Yes, I'm fine," I squeak at my menu as I half-heartedly scan the diner's impressive omelet selection.

From the corner of my eye, I watch Miley's tan arms creep across the table, barred across her chest and extended, as she rests her jaw in her palm.

I see, no, I feel her eyes on me and I feel no different than when I was flying midair in her filthy pick-up truck scarcely fifteen minutes ago.

"Don't you have a menu to be reading?"

"No, but I do have a Lilly t' be readin'"

My belly and heart swell at the sight of her gazing at me through her bottom lashes, head tilted back slightly, with this crooked, liquid smirk on her face, shoved up by her palm pedestal.

I can't help but crack a grin at my menu. I hear her chuckle and I finally decide what I'm going to do today; I'm going to kiss Miley. Not colliding roughly because of muddy terrain, or goodnight-kissing her on the cheek—no, I'm giving her a real kiss. That's what's on today's agenda.

"What are you thinking 'bout?" God, I love how she talks. She says it like she's supposed to ask it, like it's a command she gives to me everyday, and I don't just like it, but I love it. What is happening to me…

I decide to be daring; it makes my forehead flash hotly but when I brush my fingertips along, there's no perspiration whatsoever. "You."

My raises an eyebrow again. "What a coincidence. Same here."

"What could you be possibly thinking about me?"

The waiter arrives with our chocolate milks. We pause in the conversation to give our orders, I hop out of the over heated, four-trillion-watt boxing ring but the match isn't finished. I look up at her while I take a swig of my drink. She just watches me, gazing again and stirs her own gently, slowly. The way I want her to kiss me.

"That you're extremely hard t' read."

"Well, what can't you read?"

Miley chuckles and shifts her gaze out the window to my right. My body temperature cools down a few degrees instantly, so I'm not absolutely sweltering. "Nothin'."

I smile into my hot chocolate.

"I really am sorry."

The mood changes—playful and cryptic to sentimental. I look up at her again to see gorgeous navy blue slide at me, and it makes me begin to tremble awkwardly for a moment because she's just that pretty. I lean my elbows up on the table, my stance matching my intriguing mind set.

"Its okay, Miley," I say in that soft, heroic tone. "We have a lot of time together. If you're feeling what I'm feeling, we won't waste any of it."

"What, exactly, are you feelin'?"

It's my turn to look out the window. The Winson Diner is in the opposite direction of town—we passed both Miley and my aunt and uncle's houses to get here. I see the highway in the distance, past the gleaming parking lot, and the lush green trees that I can't comprehend the solidity of; how haven't they melted yet? They're constantly in the sun. I'm constantly in Miley's presence, and I'm scarcely holding it all together… Which one's stronger?

I put words together, my mind is working so hard and fast to find the perfect words to impress the perfect girl, I swear that it's whirring audibly like a machine.

"I'm not sure—I've never felt it before. I'd like more time to explore the area," I reply with a cheesy smile, turn my gaze back to her.

Now she has an eye slightly squinted and a brow lowered. Jeez, these expressions on that face are driving me crazy. I'm considering jumping her bones the second we get back into the truck, but I immediately decide against it. I need this particular kiss to be special; not that the others aren't special enough to not be replayed in my mind every seven seconds.

"You got it, chief."

My omelet and her French toast with butter and powdered sugar arrive and we dig in. I steal glances at her from across the table, which is odd, because I'm more focused on something else than the food in front of me for once. The only thing weirder than that is the way I happen to meet a pair of gorgeous cobalt eyes each time.

-

It's hard to pick a best day of your life, but if I had to I think I'd honestly pick this one, and I know my answer won't change for a long, long time. Fun, food, and Miley—that's all I realize I want at this point in my life. The third one is a work in progress, although I've pretty much obtained her.

We were unsure about returning to the creek, but that was an hour or more ago, and now we're on our backs on the dock staring up at purple clouds with hot pink highlights in an orange-y-salmon sky.

Miley's arm is touching mine and it makes me ridiculously happy. Beads of creek water crawl all down and off me, and I breathe heavily. Miley beat me in a race across the creek, yet again.

"What's farther down the river?" I ask Miley, my voice kind of croaky because we've been silent for the past five or so minutes.

Miley clears her throat, nearly startled, "Um, rapids, actually."

"Really? Like ones you can kayak on?"

"Yep. There's even a place where you can rent them way down there, but most people around here own their own. There are houses miles down, riverside, too."

"Wow, that's so cool. Do you have your own?"

"Nah, I used to use my friend Travis's."

I thought she didn't have any friends around here. Confused, I say, "Oh, who's he?"

Miley sighs. "This… kid I grew up with… but we don't talk much 'sides the usual 'Hey, how are you?' text."

"Oh, I see. What happened?" I'm curious. What does he look like? I bet they had romantic relations.

"Ehh… we had a thing I didn't want to keep, 'cause I went to my new school and things changed."

"Oh." I don't mean for it to come out so quiet and low, but it does, because that's how the statement she just made instantly makes me feel. What's going to happen to us after this summer…?

Miley rolls onto her side. "What?" she asks. Her hair glitters orange from the sunset. The trees and ground glow pink in spotted sections because of the leaves. The lightly grooving creek water is bright hot pink, and the waterfall splashes smooth in the background. Crickets chirp and my heart beats and I attempt to keep my gaze on the clouds but Miley's hanging over me and I can't help it. "What?" she asks again.

"I'm gonna miss you when I leave…"

Her face turns horrorstricken. "That's not—that's not tomorrow, is it?"

"No, no… my mom never even bought me my ticket. I mean at the end of the summer."

She sighs of relief. "Well, by then I'll surely be too attached to you not to keep in touch. Don't worry, Lilly. I dunno about you, but I don't plan on this bein' a summer fling… Well, I really hope it ain't…" She's now looking behind my head.

I don't know why, but I scramble up to her level and press my finger tips into her cheek and she's looking straight into me.

"Then it won't be," I'm whispering. I don't know why. It's all perfect and secluded back here at the creek; just think, five nights ago, Miley and I argued here and my heart was broken right on this spot… and now here I am again, five nights later. If only I knew then…

She parts her lips but they drift back together, though still not completely closed. I realize how concentrated my stare on them is, and then I look up to her eyes to find them more grey than blue and extremely serious. She is daring me to kiss her and I think that's a challenge I'll take her up on.

I begin to inch closer to her, her lips, they are the goal, the prize, and reality is always so much bigger and brighter and, well, realer than fantasies—kind of like the ones I've been having all day here and there quite similar to the one my mind wandered into back at the diner.

The thought of that scenario sends a shooting pulse of arousal down, down to the ball of my bladder, and my lips are suddenly pressing against Miley's.

Like I said, this is nothing like what I fantasize about, and I don't plan for it to ever quite so be. This is so woodsy and nature-set and so... audible. Her lips are so soft, something my imagination won't provide. The small, short, nervous puffs of air she exhales right beside my nose on the front of my cheek can't be fabricated in my dreams.

My body reacts very strongly to the kiss, and though I expected it, it's kind of like expecting to be electrocuted by a shock-pen fence then accidentally putting your arm on it and it zapping you—no, exactly like that, scratch the kind of. It catches me by surprise just how intense the butterflies are and how deliciously nauseous my stomach feels and how my heart is beating so fast is almost like a rough hum, and when she brushes and forms her lips against mine like testing out puzzle pieces it makes my lips ache.

So when I catch her bottom lip between mine and she's stone-still, it drives me insane because the pleasure somewhat subsides.

We're kissing, god, we're finally kissing.

I don't expect to be the dominant one. It's almost terrifying as I maneuver Miley onto her back, leaning on her gently until she gets the hint and lays back. I was, for some reason, expecting mature, fashionable, responsible Miley to shape her lips and tongue around mine immediately and launch me into heaven.

Instead, I'm slowly, timidly tracing my tongue along her bottom lip, my palms against the deck, half on top of her, and suddenly a patch of wet, slick, heavy het is bleeding into my mouth and I meet it and my body hyper-hops back into pulsing and going crazy and feeling absolutely…

I open my top lip higher than Miley's mouth and release a sigh. Miley's tongue swerves passionately across my mouth in response, and her soft hands are on either side of my hips and she is directing me more on top of her. My entire body pulses sensually, I rest on her slightly and my center is heavy against her leg and it instantly makes my eyes roll behind their closed lids. It just makes me hornier, and I want to move it for self-conscious motives and for the sake of keeping this experience innocent, but then I realize the rest of me is hot and wet from the creek and my warm-blooded tendencies anyhow so it doesn't really matter. The fact that we're in bikinis and I feel all of her smooth, wet, warm skin is only adding to this issue.

I'm prodding my tongue around Miley's against it, along it, I'm fully submerged in her mouth when suddenly her hands, her delicate fingertips trail along my lower back, quick and unexpected and I automatically jerk against her leg and groan and sigh and I almost cease all of my motions and realize Miley's not as experienced as I thought. Or maybe she didn't realize how sensitive I am. Or… maybe she doesn't know what exactly she's doing to me. Either way, she fails to correct her mistake; she continues to trail her fingers higher and higher and lower and lower, in circles of all circumferences all around my lower back region and up my sides and at one point my tongue just stops in her mouth and I have to manually remind myself to revitalize it.

Okay, maybe she is good at this.

Ugh, why am I so focused on how good of a kisser she is? I'm getting on my own nerves.

She's is pretty good, though. I guess it can just add to the fantasies.

Oh, I cannot think with her doing this crap to my back. Jesus Christ…

She trails down lowest, towards the edge of the butt of my bikini bottoms, and I detach my lips from her and gasp and groan, yet again, slowly bobbing against her leg, and her name is passing through my lips. "Miley, hunh, Miley…."

I'm on fire. My center and bladder are sore from throbbing. My lips stagger in midair and my nose is pressed to the front of her cheek. I want to make her vocalize the way I am, a sudden, blind desire. I press my still parted lips against her chin, and jaw, again and again and again. I open my eyes for a split second and close them to see her wet hair stuck against her exposed neck. I open my eyes again to find her head tilted back like it was at me in the diner, and I exhale against her jugular. I bring up a hooked finger and wipe the strand of hair pressed against her neck away.

Miley makes the most beautiful sound I swear I have ever heard right into my ear and I begin bobbing again, but stop myself. Instead I lean my chest fully on her and bring both of my hands against her sides.

I'm kissing her slender, feminine neck and she whimpers high-pitched in my ear, and immediately is pushing up into me off of the deck. I know this is going kind of far but I can't—I can't stop. I have to stifle my hips, so instead I just squeeze her.

"Lilly…" the way she says it, this soft, barely formed whisper, up against my ear again, and I dig my finger nails lightly into her soft, plushy curves and she bucks fully against me.

We need to stop, I know we do. We need to stop, we need to stop…

I attach my lips to her jugular and suck, and suck. She exhales until her chest gets hollow. "Oh my god," she whispers in the same voice, and now I can't help but grind into her leg with a little more pressure.

I kiss my way up to her ear with plans to speak and my bottom lip sticks to her lobe and she shudders hard. She moans and I push against her hard thigh, again, and it feels so, so, so good.

"We need to stop," I whisper shakily. She shudders again. Her hands that have stilled on my back long ago drop to the deck a moment later.

"Yeah, we do," she says softly from the back of her throat, yet another voice I've never heard before.

I go to get off of her, but I feel two palms pressing up my back and I'm pinned to her. She gives me a strong, hard kiss, and breaks away and drops her arms, but then I return it by sucking on her bottom lip soundlessly for a moment.

She makes an "Mmh…" and pushes lightly against my arm and I finally roll off of her.

We're right back where we started, staring up at the clouds, but Miley's fingertips slide along my hand and then her fingers are slipping between mine like a liquid.

"That sure was fun while it lasted," she says after a beat of only crickets and waterfall that I forgot existed, completely.

"I didn't mean to get that out of hand…" I chuckle nervously.

"Neither did I…"

I need to know something. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I turn to her, to find her face already looking at me—her cheeks and a blotch of her chin is all scarlet. It's adorable. Her pupils are dilated—her eyes seem so dark. She's gorgeous after out make-out session. What do I look like?

"Well, yes… but technically…" She trails off for what could turn into minutes.

"What? Technically what?" I feel kind of terrible, but I need to know.

"There's some things we can do."

I grin and smirk; not out of cockiness, but abashedly. It feels odd on my face. People don't usually get me like this, but then again, Miley's not a usual person. Not at all.

Miley proceeds to tap her fingertips along my knuckles and my grin gets wider. Her eyes roll every which way, comically, and I get the hint by this point. I can't help but be excited for whatever is to come our way in the near future.

And I press a small kiss to her lips. I'm electrified all over again, but not quite as horny. Just ecstatic—satisfied. I pull away and her eyes are closed, and she's smiling. She gives another, more contented "mmh…" and I couldn't wipe the smile off my own face if I tried.

It's my favorite of her expressions yet.

-

I wish my love life was identical to Miley and Lilly's in this story. Someone get me a girlfriend. Seriously. Dark hair, blue eyes—please?