Hey people! I'm actually posting a new fic, and it's kinda been awhile. And I just want to warn you all now, this is nothing like my usual work. It's not fluffy. It's angsty and dramatic… and… there is… LOLIVER. Crazy stuff, I know.

Any coincidences in here are really just coincidental… paha… maybe. (wink)

I'm dedicating this to my wonderful friends at the Moliver forums. You all rock my socks, and are the greatest people I've ever 'met', haha. Continue to wave your Moliver flags high! =)

Okay, enough of my rambling…

Disclaimer: OHHHH trust me, if I owned this, there would be some MAJORRRRR changes in this show. Hahaha... seriously.

In Three
by Broken Oken

1.

Miley shook her head, tapping her left foot impatiently as she stared at them from across the hallway. She was currently poised at her locker, the schoolbooks in her arms glued to her chest, and possibly held onto a little tighter than necessary. Her efforts were being ignored; even that loud clicking of her heel against the tiled floor grabbed no attention. She wasn't surprised, however. This wasn't the first time her irritated behavior went unnoticed. They were always too busily engrossed with their obnoxious laughter over God-knows-what, and, seriously sickeningly enough, their eyes wouldn't leave the others for even the smallest sliver of time, even if a volcano was erupting beside them.

Both things Miley found ridiculous, of course. She wasn't sure how she'd missed this new development in their friendship… or now, more like relationship… but now the incident was unavoidable. They were always together—they meaning the two of them, not her, even though she was always in their presence as well, but lingering there as if she were intruding something private.

The whole situation made no sense to her. Just last week the two were bickering about something pointless as usual, blowing childish raspberries in each other's faces like a pair of siblings, and Miley had once again countered as the heroine of the episode by prohibiting one to murder the other. And somehow the quarrel she daily witnessed had evolved into something completely different. Now it was even more torturing because they weren't arguing… she had thought nothing could be worse until she began to observe these new actions exchanged between them…

It was strange to have to force yourself to smile at the two people who, only a week ago, were supposed to be made just for doing so. She could always count on them to be there by her side and to bring her overwhelming happiness and immature chuckles, but right now, that was hardly the case. For one, they weren't by her side—they were by each other's—and two, it was not happiness erupting from her mouth when she finally barked a, "Guys, we're going to be late!"

His head was first to react with a snap in her direction. "Miley?" As if his puzzled expression hadn't given it away, his questioning voice definitely implied he hadn't even noticed her standing there. This, like the forcing of a smile, sadly was something Miley was growing accustomed to—being forgotten, when at one point, felt as if the two would be incomplete without her there, like she was some missing fragment to a three pieced puzzle. But now she realized that she had probably just been too oddly shaped and different all along, and none of her sides probably ever fit appropriately, just shoved into theirs by a cruel game of fate. They probably never needed her.

But Miley wasn't one to put on a show of sadness or depression—she would much rather grin and bare it, not worry them with her silly insecurities that even she herself didn't understand. It would also be difficult to explain any tears falling from her eyes even if she, bafflingly enough, had wanted to cry on someone's shoulder all week. But, she somehow remained strong, not allowing such nonsense. Crying when her best friends were laughing? How selfish could you be?

The blonde girl next to him looked at Miley endearingly, her face cocked to the side with the same lovesick grin plastering her face since last Monday. The same one Miley, for some reason, desired to smack off every time it sparkled across her lips—and yes, she understood it was wrong. It belonged to her best friend for crying out loud.

"Yes, Oliver, it's me, and we're going to be late," Miley finally repeated as calmly as her aggravated tone permitted. "It's almost eight 'o'clock, but the only time you guys have been caring about is the every second you guys are in each other's company."

The boy, recognizing her angry apprehension, threw her his best innocent smile. For a moment Miley's emotions got the best of her, and she frowned at him briefly. He'd never acted so oblivious to everything before until now. Well, maybe some things, but never like this. He'd landed himself on a whole new planet, and his rocket had yet to launch himself back home, where the real Oliver was, not this stranger standing across from her. And that smile—it gave her heart a brutal tug every time he looked at her that way. It clearly stated he had found joy in something that, try as Miley might, didn't approve of. That thought alone pulled at her emotions even more. She couldn't be happy for her best friends, even after everything they had done for her.

"Sorry, Miles, we just—"

"Yeah, yeah, I already know," she cut him off, waving a hand as if to save him the energy, when really, she honestly just didn't need to hear any more about them. She couldn't survive another second of listening to something she didn't comprehend. "I don't need to hear the excuse," she went on, "let's just get to class… please?"

Pathetically she gave them a hopeful pout of the lips, and the girl let out a merry laugh at her expression, which unfortunately noticeably to Miley, caused a bright smile to wander over Oliver's lips. "Yeah, sorry, Miley. You know how we are."

Miley grimaced inwardly at her choice of words. Of course she knew how they were. It wasn't like it was gnawing on her mind every second of the day or anything. "I know, Lilly, let's just go," she replied, and then hurriedly placed her back to them. She would rather die then to have to see their hands entwine on their walk to first period.

The walk was not long, but to Miley, it felt like a lifetime. She couldn't believe how many times Lilly giggled behind her at whatever Oliver was whispering to her. Didn't Oliver use to be not funny to her? Wasn't Miley the one always laughing at his jokes instead? Come to think of it, why'd Oliver like her anyways? Lilly had continually abused the poor boy, and while Miley had her moments of crime, she definitely treated him better than she did, right?

She faltered a little in her steps. No, she was not venturing into that dark pool of water. She was not going to compare herself to Lilly because of this, especially over someone like Oliver. While everyone had figured he would eventually have to choose between the two of them, she had thought otherwise—that the three of them would only continue their tripod friendship, and nothing more than that, forever. But now that he was with Lilly… she couldn't help but to think there was something wrong with her.

Sometimes, and obviously it had just been her imagination, she thought that maybe Oliver secretly pined for her, not Lilly. There were plenty of times she could point out this case. For instance, when he had first begun a relationship with a girl she had hated, he had swung his arm around her, proclaiming that she would always be his best girl bud, at the time, completely forgetting Lilly's existence. And he was so attracted to her identical cousin, not to mention her alter ego self before he knew the real her. That had to mean he at least thought she was attractive, too, right?

Not that she wanted him to feel that way about her… well, she sort of did. She could admit that it was kind of a selfish thing. She always wanted him to feel something for her, as if he were always clandestinely waiting on a move that she'd never employ. But now she was thinking that maybe she should've done something.

Oliver wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't even a bad looking guy. Heck, there were times that Miley even found herself admitting that his brown eyes could probably melt her soul if he gazed at her deeply enough, and that his long brown helmet hair gave him a more adorable appearance than any boy she'd ever met. And he'd treat her well, amazing even. If he was treating Lilly this well, the girl who had literally almost beaten him to a pulp about twenty times, then she couldn't imagine the praise he'd give her—

Miley almost choked. Maybe Oliver wasn't the one pining away in secret all these years.

Maybe… it was Miley.

She felt a tidal wave of relief when the classroom appeared before her. Her thoughts were causing her head to spin, and honestly, listening to Kunkle's droning face sounded way better than allowing herself to think such disheartening things. But then she remembered that they weren't even going to be late. She had just wanted them all to get to class as quickly as possible, because for those fifty whole minutes of history class, Lilly and Oliver would have to, God forbid, separate and sit at their rightful seats across the room from each other. Where she wanted them to be, as corrupted as that sounded.

However, when the doorway was within reach, Miley was taken aback when Lilly sauntered into the room without her boyfriend trailing behind her like a puppy dog as usual. She spun to find him standing behind her instead, folding his arms, eyebrows rose suspiciously… She knew the look well. It was the one he always gave her when he knew she was hiding something.

But this time, she was not going to let him find out what that something was.

"What?" she asked him; it was the first thing she always did when he looked at her like that. He, however, only shifted weight with his legs, and Miley heaved a frustrated sigh. This was also true to the routine—he never would reply to her first question. "Seriously, Oliver, what did I do this time?"

The question he inquired then was not what she had expected. "Why aren't you happy anymore?"

A few confused blinks later, she insisted, "I am happy," but the suspicion on his face remained.

"No you're not," he argued. "You're always giving me these mean looks."

Miley's jaw hung. "I never give you mean looks," she said, but then proceeded to give him one nonetheless. He shifted his weight again, which told her he obviously still wasn't buying it. "I'm happy, Oliver, very happy, just leave me alone."

"You need a boyfriend, you're starting to look a little pathetic," he said simply, and then suddenly gave her a small pat on her shoulder. Miley narrowed her eyes at the action, but that didn't appear to bother him since he briskly continued his theory anyways, "But trust me, you'll get one someday, then you can be happy. Like Lilly and me." Miley silently prayed the abrupt sting in her heart wasn't showing on the outside.

"I know that's what bugging you—seeing us so happy together all the time."

That was what he thought was making her so miserable, Miley thought. He really was oblivious to everything. Sure, she hadn't really known herself what the problem was until just a few minutes ago, but she figured maybe he could've came up with a better explanation than that.

"I don't need a boyfriend, thank you very much," Miley told him angrily. "I'm happy without one."

He stared at her disbelievingly, making a tsk, tsk noise. "C'mon, just admit it. You're not happy."

Even though she clearly wasn't on the inside, Miley still found enough strength within her to disagree anyways. "I am happy, Oliver, seriously," she said it slowly this time, hoping the sentence would get through his head better that way.

He took a step closer to her, and this time, his eyes were narrowed. "But you don't smile anymore."

Miley instantly bared her teeth. "Then what do you call this?" she fiercely asked through them.

He blinked. "Kinda scary?"

She didn't hesitate to slap him lightly on the arm, but for once, she wasn't really sure if it was meant to look playful, or just to cause pain. He didn't wince, though, just brought a hand to the spot where she had hit him, and looked at her oddly. "Miley, Lilly and I only want you to be happy. It hurts us, too, to see you so miserable."

Every time her name was spoken through his lips, Miley felt something pierce her through the heart, and it was getting more and more difficult to keep the pain inward. She figured that soon enough Oliver would see through her disguise… But then again, he hadn't realized she was Hannah Montana even when he had posters upon posters of her up on the walls of his room….

"I'm not miserable, Oliver!" she yelled more sternly this time. "Can we please just go into the classroom now?"

She began to walk inside without his permission before he dragged her back by a pull on her wrist. She groaned as he did so, and then growled in annoyance when he stood her directly in front of him, both of his hands gripping her shoulders firmly.

"Miley," he deadpanned, "You're not happy. You never yell at me. Well, not this much anyway."

She quirked a brow. "Well, what do you want me to do, Oliver? Just say I'm not happy? So I can go sit down and get this interview over with? Honestly, this is about as bad as the paparazzi."

He shook his head. "If you're not happy, Miles, I can fix it."

"Okay, how? What are you going to do that's gonna make me sooo happy?"

He looked at her so intensely with a squint of his eyes that Miley felt her heart skip a beat. Oliver had never really made her nervous before, but the way he was examining her then—it was so powerful.

"I'm not sure," he answered, sounding strangely careful. "You haven't told me what you're unhappy about yet."

"I'm not going to lie to you, and tell you something is wrong when there isn't, if that's what you think," she said, ironically with no truth.

"Something is bothering you."

"No there isn't!" she was half tempted to stomp her foot as she shouted it.

"Wait… is this about," he lowered his voice, "Lilly and me?"

Immediately Miley practically screamed a, "NO!" and then grimaced when she realized the obviousness in her voice. But maybe he hadn't…

"I see. You don't like us together?" but apparently, he had.

"Oliver, w-what are you talking about?" she questioned, cursing herself for the slight stutter. "I love that you guys are together."

He was quiet, looking at her with an expression Miley had yet to identify on his face before. She had never seen him look so serious. "…No, you don't," he finally argued with his eyes becoming glossy. "Why not?"

"I do!"

"Miley, answer the question."

"What question? There is none! I just—What is wrong with me?!" Miley randomly found herself yelling in outrage, before her words properly sunk in, and a blush enflamed her cheeks. "I mean—"

"Nothing is wrong with you," he interrupted in a heartbeat, and Miley only then grasped just how close he was to her now. Had he been advancing all this time? "I mean it. Nothing."

"Ol-Oliver, w-what are you doing?" her voice quivered as he just gawked at her.

"Why don't you like us together, Miley?" he asked more seriously, his nose almost in contact with her own. Miley didn't know how he expected her to answer when he was so near to her… he could probably feel the heat radiating off of her face.

"I-I do like you guys together," she mumbled, then shaking her head to get her voice to come out more loudly, "I mean, you guys are-are-are awesome for each other! Probably destined since preschool from that whole, um, crayon thing! You guys belong—"

But she didn't get to finish because Oliver had suddenly cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips feverishly into hers.

She didn't struggle against him, but she didn't respond either.

He pulled away all too quickly, staring at her with a look of both confusion and horror.

She didn't speak. Her heart was beating so deafeningly that she wouldn't be able to make sense of her words anyways.

He had just… kissed her. And he was dating her best friend. Lilly. Lilly.

After what seemed like a decade of silence, Oliver was the first to get his lips to move, and he uttered but one syllable.

"…Oops."

Miley could not have said it better herself, but she only nodded, still yet to break her vehement eye contact with him.

Uneasily Oliver placed an arm behind his head, rubbing it just as nervously, and then, very quickly, and without a single breath, rushed into the classroom.

For a second, Miley stood there against the locker before her knees crumpled underneath her, and she found her back sliding down the metal until she was sitting, hands resting on the unclean floor. Her eyesight became unfocused, and it took only a moment for her to realize why everything had gone blurry.

For the first time that week, Miley let the tears fall. Her stomach heaved with each shaking breath and thought… how could he do this how could he do this how could he do this… he can't just leave me here…

Bravely and hopefully she lifted her eyes only to be met with nothing but an empty high school hallway. And even after a few more tears later, no one came to her rescue… there were no comforting shoulders around….

None but her own.

END… maybe.

I know, I know, don't kill me, it's a terrible spot to end a oneshot on. But as of right now, I can't promise you that I'll continue this. I really was just in an angsty "hate my life" mood when I wrote this, and it might be awhile before I can write so dramatically again.

But yeah, send me your thoughts…

Oh, and I know the title doesn't make much sense, but it will if I ever continue this. Lol. I know, I'm such a tease. XD