White Houses

Chapter 3

Jenny screams out and it's no pose

'cause when she dances, she goes and goes

"Can we go outside now?" Oliver groaned, letting his head flop onto the back of the couch.

Lilly fell down beside him and kicked her legs into his lap. "Seriously, Jake, we've been waiting for like twenty minutes. Miley always takes forever to do the simplest things… like put on a swimsuit."

"We have to walk onto the beach at the exact same time," Jake said, peering up the stairs toward Miley's room. "All four of us. We're making memories here, people!"

"Dude, you sound so gay right now," Oliver laughed, squeezing Lilly's knee and eliciting a giggle from the girl.

Jake looked at Lilly for support.

"Sorry, Jakey," she giggled. "You do sound pretty gay."

Waving his middle finger in the air, he started to trudge up the stairs. "I'm going to get Miles," he said. "You two will not step onto that beach without us, got it?" He narrowed his eyes at the two for effect before turning around and stomping toward Miley's room, muttering something about "those damn kids."

As soon as he was out of sight, Lilly jumped off of the couch, pulling Oliver up with her. "Let's go," she said, lacing her fingers through his and pulling him toward the door.

As soon as their toes hit the sand, Oliver picked Lilly up and slung her over his shoulder, running at full speed toward the ocean.

"Oliver, NO!" Lilly laughed, kicking her legs and pounding her fists. "Oliver, wait! I still have my clothes on!"

"Are you asking me to undress you, Lillian?" Oliver mocked, pinching the back of her thigh.

Lilly smacked him on the back of the head. "You are such a perv!" she squealed. "Could you at least get your head out of the gutter for like two-"

The words stopped coming out of her mouth when she fell backward into the ocean, hitting the wet sand with a light 'thud.' She came up, spitting water out of her mouth and rubbing her eyes.

"YOU," she yelled, pointing her dripping hand at the smirking boy standing at the water's edge, "ARE A DEAD MAN, OLIVER OSCAR OKEN!" She ran out of the water, peeling off her soaked tank top and denim shorts and tossing them onto the sand.

"Sorry, Lillian, but the Ollie Trolley has just left the station," Oliver joked, running away from his squealing best friend.

"Come back here, Oken!" Lilly yelled, chasing after him.

Suddenly, she toppled onto the ground, clutching her ankle in pain. "Ollie! Ollie, come here!" she called.

"You okay, Lils?" Oliver asked, glancing at the girl on the ground. She shook her head and he began to trudge over to her. He fell into the sand next to her. "Are you alright?"

"Oliver," she whispered, her face contorted in pain. She grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to her, so that he could feel her warm breath tickling his face.

"Yes?" he asked, feeling his breath hitch in the back of his throat.

"You," she said softly, "Just fell for the oldest trick in the book!" Her face quickly donned a smirk as she stood up, grabbing her friend's arms and pulling him toward the ocean.

He rolled his eyes and laughed, yanking his shirt off and tossing it next to Lilly's things, letting himself be dragged toward the water. "You're so lame, Lils," he said, feeling the cool water begin to splash on his ankles.

"Yes," she agreed, grinning, "But that's why you love me!" Winking at him over her shoulder, she let go of his arm and dove into the water.

It was nine o'clock and the four friends were huddled in the living room, a spread of food in front of them, while Tila Tequila's Super Sexy Summer played on the television in front of them.

Miley sat Indian style in a big, leather chair, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. "Tell me when they stop with the whipped cream," she muttered, her words muffled by the pillow she held to cover her eyes.

"She is so hot," Jake muttered from the floor, stuffing a nacho in his mouth and leaning back so that his head was resting on Miley's legs.

"Ewwwww!" Miley squealed, thumping his head with the palm of her hand. "How could you even say that? She's… icky!"

"Ow!" Jake protested, rubbing the back of his head and glaring up at the girl. "Come on, I'm a guy, you can't fault me for that!"

"No," Miley countered, crossing her arms across her chest, "But I can fault you for having trashy taste."

Jake's jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed. "Tila is not trashy!" He glanced at Oliver, as if asking his friend to back him up. When he didn't, Jake cleared his throat. "She's not trashy. I bet Oliver thinks she's hot, too!" When this still didn't provoke a response, Jake cleared his throat again, tossing a pillow at the boy. "Yo, Oliver!" he yelled.

Oliver's head snapped up. He was sitting on the couch and Lilly was lying across it, her head in his lap. As strange as it sounded, for the past ten minutes, the teenage boy had been more interested in making the small, blonde giggle than in watching the half-naked, whipped cream covered women on the television screen. He felt a blush creep up his neck as he realized that Jake had been trying to get his attention for a good while. "Yes?" he said meekly, one of his fingers absentmindedly twirling a lock of Lilly's hair.

"Tila Tequila is super sexy," Jake stated slowly, rolling his eyes at the totally oblivious pair. "Agree or disagree?"

Oliver sighed and glanced at the television. "She's kind of trashy, dude."

"Yes!" Miley yelled, pumping a fist into the air. Jake groaned and let his head fall back against Miley's legs once more.

Lilly giggled. "I think you were supposed to agree with Jake," she whispered.

Oliver glanced at the screen again. "Yeah, well, I've always gone for the classic kind of look anyway. You know blonde hair, blue eyes…"

Lilly felt her face flush and her breath catch. She glanced up at him quickly and then turned back to the television.

It was three o'clock in the morning and Lilly was sure that she was about to be murdered. She opened one eye and glanced toward the door as it squeaked open. She closed it again when she heard someone enter the room, hoping that the crazy serial killer would leave her alone if they thought she was asleep.

Suddenly, she felt warm breath on her face. Lilly snapped both of her eyes open and screamed, hitting the figure in front of her with her pillow. "I know two famous people with very large bodyguards that will attack you on a moment's notice!" she yelled, holding her fists out in front of her, as if they would scare a mass murderer away.

"Wait a second," she said as she heard a peal of laughter. "You're not a murderer, are you?" Her eyes adjusted to the dark and she saw that Oliver was standing in front of her, cracking up.

"You jerk!" she squealed, hitting him again with her pillow. "I thought you were going to attack me!"

Oliver tried to stop laughing and sat down on the bed next to Lilly, putting an arm around her and pulling her tightly to his side. "Lilly, you are going to be in huge trouble if you ever really do get attacked," he chuckled. "Hitting me with a pillow? Threatening to sick Roxy on me?"

Lilly rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. "Shut up," she said. "I was thinking on my feet. Now, you donut, did you just come in here at three in the morning to scare the hell out of me, or did you have an actual reason?"

"Come sleep outside with me!" Oliver whisper yelled and even though it was dark, Lilly could see the lopsided grin on his face.

"It's going to be cold!"

"I'll keep you warm!" The boy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"You are a pervert," Lilly laughed. Oliver gave her his best "puppy dog pout face" and Lilly sighed. "Let's go," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. "But if you throw me in the water this time, I will kill you, Oken."