six.

(this chapter rated M for language.)

There's a small Wednesday get-together tonight at Jimmy Flayhive's house, near the Villa where Brent's party had been. I've said this before: parties I'll go to (when obligated), hangouts yes, but get-togethers I will not. Mainly because a "get-together"—especially one hosted by a person with high status on the social ladder—usually turns out to be a huge, all-out party. With cocktails and everything. And I'm not so big on those. Like I've said, I'm pretty simple. I don't need huge parties and flashing lights all the time.

Since Miley and Lilly are invited, I have an obligation to go, as Lilly's date and everyone's designated driver on the way home. Which means I have to stay sober the whole night. Not a problem, but it kind of sucks when you're in a house full of intoxicated, crazy drunk teenagers and you're the only one left with your sanity.

"You two go ahead," I tell them over the phone. "I don't feel like going out tonight."

Lilly sighs exasperatedly and Miley says nothing. The two have been over at Miley's for a couple of hours now, getting ready for the party. "Oliver, it's senior year," Lilly tells me. I can't count how many times she's mentioned that. "Do I have to remind you we're graduating in a week and a half? This is one of the last get-togethers we'll ever have in our high school career, and you're skipping out! You can't honestly have better things to do."

"I have homework," I lie. Actually, I'd finished everything a couple of hours ago. It was getting surprisingly easier, now that the anticipation over graduation was building. Teachers are no longer piling us with assignments; finally they understood we'd been stressed long enough.

"You do not!" Lilly cries, and I hear the sound of drawers being closed and opened. "God Oliver, you're such a killjoy! Get ready; we're picking you up in ten."

"I'm not going," I reply simply. I'm laying on my bed staring at the ceiling, wondering if I should be doing something productive. Maybe clean my room? Anything to just get me off my ass. Maybe I should go to that party.

I hear Lilly grumbling over the phone, the sound of more clothes being tossed, and a blow-dryer shutting off. Then Miley's voice; a strange, refreshing sound over the line—it felt like I hadn't heard her voice in forever. She mumbled something to Lilly and grabbed the phone. I held my breath in anticipation.

"Hey, Oliver?"

I clear my throat. "Er, Miley, yeah?" I don't know what I was expecting next from her, the most unexpected person in the world, but here it comes. I can almost hear her snarling over the phone line.

"Fuck you."

And she hung up.

--

I swear, I'm shaking. I have a million things I want to say, to yell out, to scream, but I don't even know if all that will help release my emotions. Anyway, I'm a fuming cow when my mom calls me down for dinner. I trudge downstairs, hoping all my weird guy hormones will go away before I go shooting off my mouth again. But suddenly they come back in a rush as soon as I see Jackson Stewart, of all people, sitting down at the dinner table. Laughing.

I stop dead in my tracks. Something's not right; and I don't remember him calling to say he was coming over. He's leaning back in his chair, laughing. With my mom, of all people, who is bustling about the kitchen like this is a normal thing. Like Jackson comes to visit us every weekend.

"Jackson?!" I cry incredulously, when I get down to the landing. "Wh-what are you—? Aren't you at school or something?"

"Chill, dude," Jackson laughs. "In the professional college world, school's out for the summer. So for a couple months I'm chillin' out maxin', relaxin' all cool." He grins and I can hear my mom humming in the background. "I hope you don't mind—I invited myself over for dinner. My old man's on a date and you know Miley. She's a party-animal."

I sigh, settling down in a chair across from him. "Yeah. I've noticed."

Jackson raises an eyebrow. "Wait, Lilly's there. Why aren't you…?"

"Long story short," I cut him off, just as Mom is entering the premises, "we're not exactly on great terms. No offense, but your sister is such a—"

"Oh, Oliver!" Mom cries, bringing in a heaping plate of mashed potatoes. There's no way she could have possibly cooked those. I mean, my mother, cooking?! "Glad you could join us. Your friend Jackson just happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Hey, did you know he's your friend Miley's brother?"

I smile weakly. "It's hard to tell."

Jackson cracks a grin. "Yeah, Mrs. Oken, even for me. Sometimes I can't figure out how I somehow share DNA with that girl." He shudders. "Creepy."

My mom takes the bait—this is getting weirder by the minute; and she isn't much of a people-person—and laughs like it's the most hysterical thing in the world. Even I have to smile. I've never been around my mom longer than ten minutes without her going psycho or leaving for work, running in her boots toward the police scanner. I have to give her some credit; she's being awfully polite.

After setting a couple more dishes on the table (seriously, WHERE did my mother get all these? God knows she can't cook to save her life—why do you think we've been living off of those TV dinners?), Mom has to take a phone call and tells us to go eat. She leaves Jackson and I in the middle of a goddamn feast, and I'm still sitting there trying to comprehend the last fifteen minutes. From Miley's rude phone call to the Jackson dinner-surprise; it's like the Stewarts are completely consuming my life.

"Damn…your mom can cook." Jackson grabs his fork and knife, gearing up for the buffet.

I snort loudly. "She can't. She doesn't know how. She can't even properly make cereal."

Jackson throws me this look while helping himself to the short-ribs. Yum. "Jeez. How do you 'properly' make cereal?"

"Well you first pour in the cereal, obviously…"

"No!" he interrupts. "I pour the milk first."

"The milk's supposed to come in after."

"Who are you to tell me how I make my breakfast?" he replies, laughing, and hurries back to his meal. We eat in silence—whoever cooked this, it's freaking delicious—until Jackson brings up the topic of school. I didn't really expect it, to be honest.

"So what grade are you now, Oken?" he asks, beginning to pat his belly.

"Uh, same as Miley's," I state the obvious. "Senior for another week and a half."

"Sucks," he replies, chewing the end of a chicken leg.

"Yeah. I just wanna like…get out already. We already finished SATs, finals, college application crap. Can't we just graduate now? Is the ceremony really necessary?"

Jackson smiles, pondering this thought. "You're really not much of a party-goer, are ya Oliver?"

I shake my head truthfully. Not much, yeah.

"Me, well…I like parties. I even crash the ones I'm not invited to. Miley's the same, I think. We probably got it from each other." Jackson finishes his chicken bone and moves onto the macaroni salad. "Speaking of which, how's it going with her? Aside from the 'being a total bitch' thing. What happened, anyway?"

"Nothing." I sigh. At least I'm telling the whole truth here, and not just for myself, but because I trust Jackson completely. I've known him long enough, anyway. "She told me to fuck off."

He grins. "Typical. What else?"

"Nothing. She won't tell me anything. One time though, she revealed she was unhappy." I wince, remembering her exact words, the way she told me that I wouldn't understand her, I would never understand. And the way she'd said "it's complicated," the way people do when they just want you to leave them alone and go shit yourself. Whatever, as long as you weren't up in their face.

Which I was, I know. But it was because I was being a good friend. I still am. Despite all her efforts to ward me off, I still care. I always will.

"Unhappy?" Jackson frowns at this thought. "Why the hell would she be unhappy?"

I let out a tiny groan of frustration. I've been processing, turning over, analyzing this thought for decades; they could have declared and fought wars while I'd been thinking. It seems to me, and maybe to everyone else, that Miley Stewart has it all. A loving family, a handsome, rich boyfriend, the two best friends in the world. She's got all her basic necessities and so much more.

So why the frown?

And that's what kills me the most: the fact that she doesn't. Frown, I mean. She basically hides it all inside, plastering that stupid fake smile on her face, clenching her teeth 'till they bleed. And what sucks is that nobody but me seems to notice. Not Lilly, who is too busy trying to win my attention. (And, sadly, even with the choice, I can't give it to her.) Not Miley's dad, who's too lenient with his daughter to really care. Not even Jake, her boyfriend, who is good at pretending but doesn't really give shit about how Miley feels. Nobody can tell that smile on her face is Earth-littering plastic.

Well, except me. And that's what sucks even more. Miley doesn't care about me, or how I feel, or what I do. And even if she did it's stopped now, especially since I've been bugging her so much. I'm like Miley's personal housefly.

Suddenly Jackson gets a light bulb idea, banging his fist on the table. "Aha!" he cries. "I know why. It's because of that raise in allowance I've been getting from Dad since Christmas. See, he sends me money every month or so—"

I roll my eyes. He just isn't getting it. "Jackson, that isn't the point."

"—and with her dropping grades and performance marks, Miley's been losing more and more of—"

"Jackson." I sigh, willing for him to just shut up.

"…so she's just jealous! HAH!" He smiles gleefully. "God, it's always been the other way around. Miley Stewart, Daddy's perfect little angel, his favorite child, the love of his life. Even Mom! They'd spoiled her to death since she was little. And me? I'm the black sheep of this family! I'm the drop out, the loser, the nobody…"

"Jackson—"

"But look now! The tables have turned!" Jackson stands up and starts his signature dance moves; the table wobbles in its position. Jeez, so much for his so-called maturity. "Aha! I win, I weeen, I win I win I—"

"JACKSON!" I yell out, my frustration finally getting the best of me. The room goes silent. "Just…shut UP! I'm so sick of you flaunting all your glory in my face! I'm fucking glad you have a life now, Jackson, but seriously? I don't care. Okay? It's Miley I'm concerned about and you're just making everything worse. You're not being a good brother to her; maybe THAT'S why she's so damn unhappy. You ever think of that?" His eyes widen and I march out of the room without a second thought, fuming mad.

It's official. I've cracked.

First off.. I APOLOGIZE!

This is probably the lamest excuse.. but yes, the school season is here. And I am now a JUNIOR in high school (dun dun dunnn!), which is considerably the hardest year yet. So.. just to be frank, don't expect frequent updates. I know, I know, I'm sorrrrrrrry! D: I'm always doing this; time management was never my greatest thing and sometimes I forget my commitments. (I'm still working on it, haha) And school is my first priority.. so, I have to take care of that first. But never fear, my darling readers! (Wow, where did THAT come from? Haha xD) I have not and WILL NOT forget this story. I love it too much and I already have this amazing outline and everything! :D I'm excited for everyone's upcoming reactions.

So, what did you think of the chapter? Poor Oliver. & Jackson's such an ass today, hahah. Whatever, typical Jackson Stewart behavior. And I must say, I lalaLOVE Miley in this chap. She's so independent, and she freely speaks her mind (with Oliver) hahah. I love it. Can you alll see the little somethin'-somethin' I purposely planned in there? ;)

Well, my lovely Moliver shippers.. next chapter is CRAZY Moliver-ness; I'll be honest. It's one of my all-time favorites! :DDDD Can't wait to hear you guyses reaction; REVIEW (it's your turn!) and MAKE 'EM BLABBERY! xD I hope I gain more NEW readers after this chapter; the story's just getting good (I hope) haha!

Oh, and to all of last chapter's reviewers; I haven't replied to your wonderful blabbings because I've got such limited time D: But thankyouthankyouthankyou! I LOVE reading your emotional reactions! Haha. Spread the word and stay tuned! (: