For every piece of me that wants you, another piece backs away
"Lilly! We have to go! You looked fine when I left the room," Mom called up the stairs, as I heard the doorbell ring.
Oliver was obviously here.
Not that that matters, or anything. Just saying.
I looked one last time in the mirror, and again, didn't really recognise the person looking back at me. Thanks to my mom. There was a point this afternoon, after I'd picked out the dress from the Hannah closet, that I'd really panicked. Can you blame me? I had no idea why I was attempting to look girly, and I had no idea to go about it. But my mom had overheard me talking to myself, and was glad to offer a helping hand. I think she was sort of suspicious to why I was going to so much effort to look good, but I didn't give her that information. I don't know myself why I'm doing it. And to be honest, it seems sort of insane.
It didn't seem this insane when I was stressing over it. But whatever.
But I had a good time with my mom. I don't think I've spent that much time with her since Miley came, because before Miles, I didn't have a female best friend. Just Oliver.
"Coming!" I shoved my feet into some shoes, that looked horrifically like the ones that had caused blisters all over my heel. But, if Miley were here, she'd look at me condescendingly, and tell me 'no pain, no gain.'
But what is the gain for me here? Oliver will be impressed? Am I doing this to impress Oliver? Why? Why do I need to impress Oliver? It isn't like he's a really cute guy that doesn't know my name.
Although he did look kind of cute with his hair out of his eyes.
NO! Stop thinking like that!
I forced myself to focus on the party. Mom said we'd be walking around with plates of food, and offering them to the guests. Didn't seem too hard. But with Oliver in tow, we - or he - might end up eating more snacks than we serve.
"Lilly! Oliver is here, and we are getting in the car in seconds!" My mom called up the stairs again, just as I appeared at the top of them.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm here."
My mom turned to look at me, and smiled. She seemed sort of disappointed that I wasn't wearing the yellow monstrosity that she had bought me, but when she saw the dress that I had 'borrowed from Miley' she approved. It wasn't like it was too short, or too revealing. It was a turquoise-y colour, and came up to my knee. And as soon as I had seen it, I knew I had to wear it.
But Mom's reaction wasn't what I was looking for. For some reason - and I have no idea what this reason was - I found myself looking at how Oliver reacted.
He just looked shocked... I mean, his mouth was open slightly, and his eyes were widened...
He hates it. He thinks it looks totally terrible, and I should probably turn around and change into jeans now. Now. Turn around.
Why aren't my legs turning around?
"Ready?" Mom asked, and I'm not sure whether she's sensing my nervous-ness.
But I'm not nervous. Nooo. No way. No nerves here. Why would I even be nervous? I'm doing work. Work, work, work. For money, money, money.
"Yeah..." I muttered, and get to the bottom of the stairs, my legs shaking.
WHY ARE MY LEGS SHAKING?
It's the shoes. Of course it is. Shoes. Bad shoes. Too high.
Mom smiled at me, and then walked out the front door, obviously stressed about this party. Oliver is standing in the exact same place he was when I appeared at the stairs.
"I look awful, right?" I asked him, fearing the answer slightly. "Because you look pretty shocked, and it's because this outfit is terrible, and... can you tell Mom I'll be two minutes?"
I turned around, and was all ready to advance the stairs again, when something caught my arm. And I assumed it was Oliver's hand, because what else could it be?
"Lilly, you look amazing. I totally eat my words," Oliver said, and I had to turn to look at him to make sure he wasn't kidding.
"And everything else on the menu," I rolled my eyes, but inside I was practically skipping.
No. Not skipping. Just happy that I'd managed to change his mind.
He thought I looked amazing!
Stop.
Stop.
"Amazing?" I asked, just to make sure I'd heard right.
Oliver cleared his throat, and looked weird for a second. "Um... yeah. Awesome."
"Thanks," I smiled at him, and we walked out of my house.
---
"Thank God that's over," my mom came up to us at the end of the party, and sighed with relief. "I was stressed all day."
I smiled at her. "I could tell."
"Well, you seemed pretty stressed when you were talking to yourself," my mom smirked, secretly.
I tossed my hair over my shoulder, and shook my head. "I wasn't stressed, just... not sure where to start."
Mom raised her eyebrows. "Sure, Lilly. Sure."
"Stop with the sarcasm, mother!" I cried, but smiled to let her know I was joking.
Oliver came up next to us, still holding a full plate of food. "Mind if I eat this?"
I rolled my eyes, and mom laughed. "Of course not, Oliver. Be my guest."
"Are we done here mom?" I asked, trying to ignore the teenager next to me, who was mercilessly shoving food down his throat. I don't think the throat is capable of holding that much food...
Mom nodded, and smiled. "Why? Got somewhere else to be?"
"I just... no," I sighed. No plans at all.
Oliver stopped eating for two seconds, to speak. "Actually, Mrs. T, I was wondering if I could take Lilly off of your hands for a few hours."
I frowned at him. "What?"
"Wondered if you wanted to go to the beach," he shrugged, like it was no big deal.
Which it wasn't. It was just the beach. On a really nice night. With just the two of us. Not a big deal at all...
"Well Lilly?" My mom turned to me, and shrugged. "You want to go to the beach with Oliver?"
"I guess," I said, casually. "You be okay with that?"
Mom smirked. Seriously, she smirked. "I can't see why not."
"Thanks mom!" I managed to blurt out, before Oliver had dragged me from the building, and we were running to the beach. Our beach.
---
"I win!" I collapsed on the sand, and tried to regain my breathing.
Oliver collapsed next to me, kicking up sand around him in the process, and getting it all over me. "You cheated."
"How did I?" I laughed.
"Didn't say go," he pretended to sulk, although I knew that he wasn't really mad.
I rolled my eyes. "Go."
"Bit late now," he objected, and then propped himself up on his elbows. "Lilly, can I ask you something?"
I looked at him from the sand, and nodded. "Sure. Anything."
"Why did you make such an effort tonight?" he asked, and the bluntness of his question startled me slightly.
I didn't have an answer. Because it was the same question that I'd asked myself, over and over, but had always avoided the answer. "I don't know. I guess you challenged me this morning, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it..."
"Prove to yourself?" Oliver raised one eyebrow, and I cursed him for knowing me so well.
"Fine. Maybe a tiny bit of me wanted to prove it to you too. It's just, you doubted that I could be somebody other than Lilly: The Skater, and I wanted you to see that I could be," I admitted.
Oliver sighed, and looked out to the ocean. It was a deep blue because of the dark sky, and looked mysterious, and almost menacing.
"Why?" I asked, after a few seconds. "Did it work? Did I prove it to you?"
He looked at me, and nodded. "Definitely."
"Well then. Mission accomplished," I smiled, and he lay back down beside me.
"Lilly, don't you ever listen to me," he said, with such seriousness.
I had to laugh. "Can I get that in writing? Just so that the next time you tell me to listen to you, I can pull out the contract?"
"I mean... always be Lilly," he said, not making much more sense.
I was confused, to say the least. "I'm not planning on being anyone else, Oliver."
"Good. Because I like the skater girl Lilly. I mean, this you... it's amazing, but it doesn't look like you," he sighed.
I smiled. "Thank God you said that, because these shoes are killing me."
He looked down at my feet, which - again - were getting chewed at by the horrible sandals. "Why wear them then?"
"They went with the outfit!" I cried, and gestured down at the dress. It was true. They went perfectly with the outfit.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Girls..."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" I asked, leaning on my elbows, to look down at him. I hardly ever find myself looking down at Oliver, considering he's taller than me, but whatever.
"Just that only girls will wear shoes that hurt their feet, because they go with their outfit," Oliver remarked. "It seems stupid."
I rolled my eyes, and nodded. "It totally is. But they look impressive."
"They certainly do," Oliver muttered.
My heart did a little flip-flop.
He was impressed? And he said he liked the skater girl me. And that I looked amazing.
Why was I so hung up on this?
Because I like him.
No. No I don't.
Yes, I do. I like him, like him.
No.
Yes. I like Oliver Oken as more than a friend.
No.
Yes.
No.
Yes.
"Lilly?" A hand waving in front of my face stopped my mental argument. Man, I seem to be arguing with myself a lot lately.
"What? Sorry. I was... out of it," I tried to explain, but the words weren't putting themselves together properly.
I liked Oliver?
No.
But it seemed to be the only logical explanation.
"You looked out of it," Oliver laughed. "I asked what you were thinking."
I WAS TELLING MYSELF THAT I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH YOU!
"Eh, not much," I said. Wow. I'm pretty good at lying. In some circumstances. At least I don't hiccup, like Oliver used to.
"Sure," Oliver rolled his eyes. "Nobody that out of it, is thinking of 'not much'."
I turned to face him, and he did the same. Lying on our sides on an abandoned beach, looking at each other. "I was thinking about... Miley. She was performing in NYC tonight."
"You miss her, don't you?" Oliver looked at me sympathetically.
"Not really. I have you."
It's slipped out before I can stop it, and my head is screaming at my mouth.
"I mean... at least I'm not lonely," I tried to cover up, but I doubt it worked.
He just looked at me. Just looked. And so I just looked back. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?
He's really cute.
Lilly!
But he is! And he has really nice eyes.
Lilly. Stop.
I really like him.
Lilly! No!
In fact...
"Lilly, I -" Oliver began, speaking slowly.
I held my breath. Why was I holding my breath? Breathe! You don't like him! It's a nice night, and you just like the idea of liking someone!
"I wanted to say - " he continued. "I wanted to tell you that I - "
You get the best, of both worlds, chillin' out take it slow, then you rock out the show...
A Hannah Montana song interrupted him, and I realised it was my cell phone. And it was the Hannah phone calling. "I'm sorry, it's Miley. I'll get rid of her."
I was blustering. Because I wanted to hear what he had to say. What did he have to say? Stupid cell phone. Why'd it have to go off?
Not that I thought he was going to tell me he liked me or anything. And that's good. Because I don't like him.
Ugh. Give it up. I like him. I like Oliver Oscar Oken, and I seriously thought that he was going to tell me that he liked me. But Miley had to go and call.
"Hello?" I asked, trying to sound normal, but not sure I'd achieved it. Oliver had looked away, and has resumed looking at the ocean.
"Lilly! Guess what? Jake was here, in NY! And he asked me out! Isn't that so great? And he asked me out as Miley! So the press don't know, and we're all okay, and I'm so happy!" Miley gushed down the phone.
I smiled. I was happy for her. Really. But my gaze kept drifting back to Oliver, who was staring at the ocean like something strange had just come out of it. "That's awesome, Miley."
"Anyway, I just had to call and tell you! So... what'cha doing? Did the dance go well? Did you look girly enough for Oliver?" she asked, unaware that she had interrupted something.
Had she interrupted something? Maybe he was just gonna tell me that I had something on my face, or something stupid like that.
"I'm at the beach. With Oliver. Want me to put you on speaker?" I asked, convinced that she hadn't actually interrupted anything. Oliver doesn't like me. Well... he does, but as a best friend, and nothing more.
Miley was silent for a few seconds. "You on the beach with Oliver alone? At this time?"
"Yeah, we were talking," I said, wondering what she was getting at. Did she know? Did the whole world know?
How could they? I'd only just found out myself, for Pete's sake!
"Uh, Lilly, you know that I'd love to talk to you and Oliver, but Daddy's saying that I have to hang up the phone now, so... I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Miley rushed, like she was trying to get me off the phone. But she called me!
"Sure," I sighed, confused. "I'll call you?"
"You do that. Have fun!"
I flipped the phone down, and lay it down on the sand beside me. "Sorry..."
"It's okay," Oliver shrugged. "Not your fault that Miley called you, right?"
I shook my head, and hoped that he'd finish his sentence. The one that he'd started.
He didn't. We lay there for a few more minutes, and then he got up, dusting himself free of sand, and holding out his hand to help me up. I took it, grabbing my phone and bag as I did so, and then we were walking.
Away from the beach. Away from the moment. And all the while I was begging for him to finish the sentence. Begging for him to turn and say: "Lilly, I wanted to tell you that I really like you."
He never did.
Ugh.
Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I felt really sick, but I was composing it all in my head, and so have given you guys and extra long update tonight. I hope it's okay, and I'll update tomorrow!