Someone was surely killing her, boring a hole into the side of her head with a jackhammer, a nail gun, a drill, maybe even a dull spoon. Miley moaned, softly touching her forehead. She opened her eyes, hissed at the harsh morning sunlight, and quickly squeezed them shut. Her corneas must have burned off with a sizzle, an impressive puff of smoke. God, what the fuck happened to me last night? Memories came in fuzzy bits and pieces. She struggled to make them conform into a reasonable storyboard account.

She opened her eyes again, slowly, prying them bit by bit and cupping the side most vulnerable to sunray exposure. There was a glass of something and a pack of Alka Seltzer on her bedside table. Propped up on the glass was a single sheet of paper that read: Drink me. She obliged, who was she to argue with a seemingly helpful piece of paper? Her teeth gingerly ripped the packet open, and the tablets fell into the glass in two cartoonish plops. She waited for them to dissolve, and then quickly took a chug. Although the liquid did wonders for her dry, cottony mouth, the taste was awful. Taste was a luxury at that point; in all honesty, she would have eaten raw cow eyeballs if they offered her relief, anything to alleviate her symptoms.

Miley swiveled around to look at the warm body taking up the other half of her mattress. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of her best friend. The memories crashed into her all at once. Lexi and Lilly's dirty dancing… the revelation of their secret relationship… too much Gray Goose… the bruising kiss… the confrontation… the puke, boy, was there puke. Miley groaned and growled at the same time. Hurt and rage once again filling her gut.

She wanted to shove Lilly off the bed, hurl a bucket of water on her, hit her with a hard throw pillow, something to wake the stupid blonde up so that she could yell at her, batter her fists into her chest, drown her in guilt and send her spiraling into a cycle of brooding self-loathing. Instead, she stumbled towards the bathroom for a long hot soak. She'd deal with Lilly later, when the blonde was coherent enough to properly take in all the ramifications associated with her impending ass reaming.

When Miley resurfaced from the steamy bathroom, hair damp and body covered in a fluffy terrycloth robe, Lilly was propped up and awake. Their gazes met, but Miley brushed her off. She could feel the blonde's eyes following her, and she couldn't help but wonder what the girl was thinking. She subsequently kicked herself for wondering what Lilly was thinking. She shouldn't care. No, from this point out, she'd be an icy impression of her former self. If Lilly was attracted to slutty ice queen types like Lexi, she'd ditch kind, devoted Miley and give her just that.

Miley's back was to the blonde as she untied her robe. She shrugged the material off in one smooth gesture, letting it pool at her feet. She heard Lilly gasp in the background, and the sound of sheets being rumpled, presumably between the blonde's clenched fists. Miley bent down, arching her back as she stepped into a pair of tiny pink panties. When she turned around, she was astonished and relieved that Lilly hadn't averted her eyes. The gutsy display was for her after all.

"What?" growled Miley, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Lilly felt her face go hot. Miley had always been a modest girl. The most naked she'd ever been in front of Lilly (aside from last night's involuntary shower) was in her bikini. The lack of modesty had stunned the blonde, but before she knew it her eyes had a life of their own, sizing Miley up like some starved animal. Although the brunette seemed totally indifferent to the vulgar eyeballing, Lilly couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame. Her gaze dropped. "I'll let you get dressed," she stammered, struggling to stand.

"Why?" laughed Miley. "I've got what you've got. I've got what Lexi's got, and if you can be adult about her, you sure as hell can be adult about me. Right, Lilly?"

"I just—"

"You just what?" She squinted her eyes. "Don't feel comfortable? Is that it, Lil? Aw, how sweet. I'm sorry I can't be more accommodating."

It was the first time she'd felt helplessly awkward in Miley's presence. All Lilly could fathom doing was going home and locking herself up in her room to die, or some fate similar to dying anyhow. "Look," she breathed, "Maybe I should just go home."

No, thought Miley. No! No! No! She wasn't through giving Lilly hell. She hadn't even started, but so be it if the blonde wanted to make it harder for herself. She'd let Lilly leave, and use the rest of the week to stew and build, and plan. Miley made a mental note to cancel her Hannah gig. She was sure she'd snap at an undeserving fan, and there was no way in hell she'd give the tabloids the pleasure of fabricating a story. "Maybe you should," she repeated, folding her arms across her naked chest and leaving it at that.

Lilly quickly grabbed her things and bolted.

Once inside the comfort of her room, the blonde pressed her face into a pillow and screamed. Why are girls so complicated? She banged her head, fists, and feet against her mattress until her limbs hurt, and then settled on her back. She needed to talk to Oliver, simple, male, lunkheaded Oliver. "Where's my phone?" she breathed, shifting through drawers, palming her pant pockets, and then turning her packed bags inside out. "Ah ha!"

There were a couple missed calls, one from Oliver, one from her Mother, and three from Lexi. Lexi had also sent her five progressively emotional texts:

1. Hey. Call me. XOXO.

2. Okay, this isn't fun anymore… You know how much I hate waiting.

3. Lil, where the fuck are you? I'm horny, can't you take a hint? You better not be fooling around with Miley. LOL. In case that one flew over your head, I was kidding.

4. K... Lilly, if you're ignoring me because you are in fact too busy hooking up with that stupid little girl, I swear to God…! You seriously need to learn how to prioritize!

5. Whatever!!

Lilly disregarded all of the text messages with an eye roll. Lexi was seriously the center of her own little universe. She hit redial and scrolled down for Oliver's number.

"Hello," he answered groggily. Oliver winced as he registered the cold puddle of drool beneath his head. He wiped the congealed slobber from his cheek, and sat up.

"Ollie? You sound like death."

"Yeah? I feel like death," he moaned, massaging his temples.

"I bet you don't look too pretty either," she chuckled, crossing her legs at the ankles and kicking her feet back and forth.

"Shit," he ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be alright. How are you holding up? I'm sorry about yesterday…"

"Not too good, thanks for asking. It's kind of why I'm calling. I can't help but feel that something needs to be done, like stat, but I don't know what the hell to do anymore. I can't stand this weirdness. The worst thing is that it's Jerry Springer, over-the-top soap opera weird, you know?"

"Nah," Oliver yawned, opening the fridge. "I'm sure whatever got into Miley will settle itself out. You know how that girl operates. I think it was mostly the liquor talking last night." He pinched the juice carton lip wide open. "She's got the alcohol tolerance of a kitten." He took a gulp, and swabbed his mouth with his forearm.

"Not this time," sighed Lilly, tugging at her ear. "I get the feeling things are seriously fucked up," she whined, "You should have seen Miley this morning. She went all Basic Instinct-y on me! It was scary. Hot, but scary. Needless to say, the scary outweighed the good and I literally ran all the way home. This is not how I wanted shit to unravel. I mean, I've wanted Miley forever, you can attest to that, but not like this!" Lilly's eyes closed.

Oliver nodded. "This is true." He felt genuinely awful for his best friend. He was the only one who knew about her deep-seated feelings for Miley.

"How the hell did she even find out about Lexi? I don't get it."

"Shit!" Oliver groaned, nearly spitting up juice. He was the culprit!

Lilly's eyes widened, interpreting Oliver's telling outburst. The boy was easier to read than a pop-up book. "You didn't," she gasped. "Tell me you didn't…"

"I'm sorry, Lil! I was so trashed. I remember Miley coming up to me, she was looking for you. You and Lexi were on the dance floor, and then I remember… Lil, I'm sorry! I forgot she didn't know. I was so drunk. God, this is all my fault!"

"Oliver, you doughnut!" she cried. She really wanted to give him a stiff, nose-breaking punch. Hell, she would have settled for a swift kick on the ass, or an irritating wood splinter at the very least. It took every scrap of maturity she could muster to suck it up and say the following words, "It's okay."

"It is?" He yelped, thoroughly confused.

"Yes," she squeezed out through gritted teeth. "Yes, it is. Mistakes happen. I'm a reasonable person. I shouldn't have kept secrets from Miley anyway. Let's just assume that this is my karmic retribution."

"I'm still sorry…"

"I know. You're a good friend." She smiled weakly. "Just tell me what to do."

Oliver pressed two slices of bread into his toaster. "Well, why don't you just go along with it?"

Her face scrunched. "Go along with what?"

"Miley's alter-ego. You want her, she's revealed that she wants you. Sure, she's acting a little out of whack, but what the hell? Maybe if you play along and indulge her in whatever therapeutic acting out she needs to do in order to cope with the betrayal, sorry Lil but I call it how it is, real Miley might re-emerge." He carefully removed one of the freshly toasted slices and spread a generous helping of jam over it.

Lilly chewed on her lip. "You think?" The plan had the potential to become an irreparable fuck up, but with the way things were unfolding, the current track wasn't heading in a much better direction.

Oliver shrugged. "Or you could go the straightforward route. Just confront her about it, no bars, no bullshit."

"Oliver, she'll eat me alive. She's way too pent up for a civil chat."

"I got nothing else. What do you have?"

"Nothing…"

"My point exactly. You have to decide whether you want to give this one iffy notion a shot, or sit around twiddling your thumbs, hoping for things to resolve themselves, or hey, you could even try lighting a couple candles at a church, or emptying your piggy bank in that wishing well by the food court... You get where I'm going?"

Oliver was right. Her options were impossibly limited. "You know, Oliver, for a doughnut you sure do have a lot of substance. If Miley's still being dopplegangland-y on Monday then we'll see. For now, let's just settle on labeling this Plan B."

He smirked. "I try."

Monday steadfastly approached. Miley hadn't made any attempts to contact Lilly, and vice versa. The blonde prayed Miley would be back to her usual self. She sat in 2nd period, doodling random animal concoctions, and wriggling her foot up and down. Her eyes did a sweep of the classroom every few seconds. People were starting to slowly creep in, along with Oliver. A good deal of their peers were restless, yammering away about vacation destinations and parties. Summer break was just around the corner, and everyone was itching with anticipation. He threw his backpack on the floor beside his desk, and twisted his body to greet her.

Lilly smiled. "Hey. Have you seen Miley?"

He shook his head. "Sorry."

The class was about to start. Mr. Kortez was at the head of the room, finishing up a spangly diagram on the dry erase board. Lilly grew increasingly nervous as the bell rang, fidgeting helplessly much to the instructor's annoyance. "Lillian, are you alright?" he snipped. His voice was obnoxiously cringe-worthy. His words sounded like they were resonating out of his nostrils.

"Yes."

He narrowed his eyes, but moved on with the lesson. It wasn't until ten minutes into the projection slides that Miley arrived, wearing a skirt that showed entirely too much leg. Mr. Kortez immediately took notice, waving her over before she could slink into a seat.

"That can't be dress code," muttered Oliver, sharing a sideways glance with Lilly.

"Here we go again," Lilly huffed. Not once in her entire academic career had Miley broken the school dress code. It was a striking indication that Miley's bad girl alter-ego was still at the reigns.

The brunette dropped an excuse slip onto the teacher's tabletop, and made her way to the empty desk beside Oliver. She gave him a saucy grin, and Oliver couldn't help but wave, dumbly and limp handed. Lilly rolled her eyes, simultaneously blocking out Miley's hijinx and Mr. Kortez's lecture. She opted to draw a castle and a moat to accompany her previously penned creature creations.

A note fell on her desk. Oliver had dropped the thing, but it was folded too neatly to be Oliver's. She didn't reach for it until she finished scribbling the moat alligator's ridges. The note was obviously from Miley. She didn't want to give the brunette the satisfaction of acknowledgment so she kept her gaze on her hands as she unfolded it. It read:

No hello?

Lilly crumpled the paper. She wasn't in the mood for games, or mind fucks. She resumed sketching, adding an additional tower to her castle. For the damsel in distress, she decided. Another note plopped onto her desk, and this time she glared at Oliver.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Why are you ignoring me?

Lilly set the freshly crumpled note beside the first one. She saw Miley attacking another sheet of paper out the corner of her eye. "Oliver," she whispered, pressing forward in her seat. "Don't you dare give me another note."

He gulped, recognizing a threat when he heard one. He wasn't too keen on epitomizing the shot messenger boy. When Miley tried to pass along the latest message, he deftly shook his head. "I can't," he mouthed. "Sorry."

Miley gave Oliver a dirty glare that made him recoil in his seat. "Fine," she whisper-yelled.

She turned towards Lilly and tossed the paper herself. It landed by the blonde's foot. Lilly made no move to retrieve it, and then the bell wailed. She quickly shoveled her things into her backpack, and hopped over her desk. She fisted Oliver's shirt and dragged him with her, Miley hot on their heels. They lost the brunette in the dizzying scramble of students opening lockers, closing lockers, shuffling into classrooms; catching up with their friends. They ducked into one of the more obscure hallways, and walked into their Ceramics workshop.

"I see what you mean," grumbled the boy, adjusting his polo. "Miley has seriously flipped."

"Yeah…," Lilly trailed off as they claimed hunks of clay for their projects.

Ceramics was basically a free for all. The teacher was asleep at his desk, per usual. A couple kids were crowded around a brown haired boy who was putting the finishing touches to a decent sized bong he'd been molding over the course of a few class periods. Oliver and Lilly occupied a table by themselves. He was making an ash tray for his grandmother. He always made ash trays for his grandmother. It was the only thing he knew how to make. Lilly was just squishing a wad of clay onto the table.

"I don't think either of us can survive this for much longer. It's time to institute Plan B, you know, what we discussed over the phone?" Oliver looked up at Lilly. Her eyes were stormy.

There was no way she was prepared to play along with Miley's charades. They needed a more elaborate plan of action. At the rate of Miley's antics, she'd end up locking the brunette in the janitor's closet, or the boiler room. She was more grateful than ever for their Miley-less 3rd period.

"I don't know, Oliver," she mumbled. "I think I'll lose it, and end up gagging her with all those notes."

He laughed. "You and I both. I'm seriously surprised she didn't char my skin with her death glare. Did you see that thing?" He shivered.

"Did you see that skirt?" They both shuddered at that.

"In that one isolated aspect, I'd say you're a very lucky girl," he teased.

"Right."

"If she antagonizes you, just brush it off. How about that for a start? Don't play like she's ruffling your feathers. That might be her aim. But at the same time, be considerate and apologetic. "

Lilly scoffed. "Easier said than done."

"She's hurting, Lils."

"Right," she sighed, pinching and pressing her clay lump into a clay man.

The bell rang again, signaling the start of the lunchtime feeding frenzy. Lilly and Oliver paid for their lunches and claimed an empty table. Lilly sipped on her milk, and toyed with her lunch.

"Are you going to eat that?" mumbled Oliver, already eyeballing her tray. He wasn't even halfway done with his meal.

Lilly pushed her food towards him as Jackson approached the table. He never approached them. They were in entirely different social classes. He leaned in close, and whispered, "What's wrong with my sister?"

"I d-don't know," stammered Lilly, unable to meet Jackson's gaze. She couldn't tell him the truth. She doubted he'd want that much information anyway.

"How about you?" Jackson squinted at Oliver. "Are you going to tell me? She's been acting like… someone else. C'mon, Oliver, you're the weakest link. Don't let me down. I'll buy you a brownie. Oh, better yet, I'll give you free reign of Rico's snack shack for a whole week."

"Make that two."

"Oliver!" barked Lilly.

Oliver glumly maintained his resolve. "I don't know either, Jackson. Sorry." The interrogation was cut short when a wide-eyed Oliver peeped Miley heading towards them. "Shit. She's coming," he announced, quickly stuffing a roll into his mouth.

The blonde boy dispersed with an, "Aw, crap!"

"Lilly," cried Miley, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder as she sat beside her. "What is up with you? Why are you ignoring me? You're being such a bitch."

Oliver held back a gasp. Lilly's cheeks flushed. "I'm sorry," she forced, practically choking on the words.

Miley blinked, clearly taken aback. "You are?" Lilly nodded, and Miley's face broke out into a smile. "Good. I knew you'd be sorry. I'm glad you're taking this so well." She sighed, playing with Lilly's hair as if to reward her good behavior.

Oliver continued to stuff his mouth in order to avoid conversation. Lilly's cell phone let out a chirp, and before Lilly could read the screen, Miley's hands had snatched it away. "Ooo," she growled. "It's a text message from Lexi. She wants to know what you're doing after school. What are you doing after school, Lil?"

Lilly stiffened and Oliver choked on his food. "I… don't know," she answered. "What am I doing after school, Oliver?"

The boy shook his head. "Don't ask me. I'm not your keeper." He laughed, throwing his hands up. "Gosh. What a silly question! How would I know? I'm not a psychic. I'm not in tune with the cosmos—"

Lilly frowned. "You can stop now."

"Okay."

Miley sent a reply, and Lilly groaned. "What did you say?" she asked.

Miley leaned forward, lips brushing against Lilly's ear as she spoke, throatily, "I told her you'd be busy doing me after school." Lilly spluttered, making Miley frown in annoyance. She pulled back, crossing her arms. "Or would you rather fuck her?"

Oliver and a couple nosey kids at a surrounding table coughed up milk. Lilly covered her face, embarrassed for Miley and for herself. "Miley, please," she whispered. "You're making a scene."

"It's your fault, Lilly," she growled. "If you weren't such an asshole, I wouldn't have to make a scene."

"Right. I'm being an asshole. I guess I can finally check that adjective off the list. This is great. Hey, I've got an idea for you, Miles… Since I'm being such an asswipe, why don't you just, I don't know, leave me the hell alone?"

"Maybe I will."

"Perfect."

Miley stomped off in a flurry, and Lilly dropped her head on the table. "This is hopeless," she groaned.

Oliver patted her head. "You were doing good up until the last 30 seconds or so. Don't worry, Lils, she'll be back, and round two can only be easier, right?"