O: A PERFECT PAIR

It's been five days, ten hours, thirty minutes, fifteen-sixteen seconds since the photoshoot. But hey, who's counting?

Not her, I bet. I sigh as I plop down on the living room sofa. Today's Sunday, which means it's a do-nothing day. Hell, the whole week has been like a do-nothing week. Right now, I would be at Miley's house, but ever since that happened, I hardly go to her house anymore. And there's a specific reason why.

It's 'cuz I'm a freakin' wimp, that's why. I'm scared to admit that I can't help but not deny any feelings about what I felt five days, ten hours, thirty-two minutes, twenty-twenty-one seconds ago. I felt something there, even if we were only touching, glancing, smiling, hugging, laughing, or splashing in the water (With a female no less). And I'm still feeling the tingling sensations even when I'm just only thinking about it.

It's official: I've fallen for my best friend. No, not the doughnut I broke up weeks ago, or whatever, but for the hot girl with the blue-gray eyes, the charming personality, and that sultry Tennessee accent.

This is ridiculous. I can't believe Mom left me here to go on her date. Can't she see her own daughter is sick? To be more exact, love sick? Confused? Argh! Why did I have to agree with Miley to do that stupid photoshoot?!

Angrily, I put my face on the pillow and yell into it. My legs kick forcefully on the couch, making deep, thudding noises. What the hell is wrong with me? I hate this! I hate feeling like this! Today, I'm gonna go to Miley's house and prove myself that I am not in love with my best friend, Miley Stewart!

I stand up from the couch and head towards the kitchen for a drink and call Miley. But before I pick up the phone, it starts to ring by itself. Of course, being me, I scream and throw it across the room. Yea, that isn't exactly the smartest idea to do. It hit against the corner of the kitchen table and the batteries came out. Crap.

Moments later, when I put the house phone away on its charger, my cell phone starts to vibrate on the living room table. Well, this is weird. I hop over the couch and pick up the phone. Then, for no reason, my hands start to shake. Actually, it isn't a 'no-reason' excuse, it's Miley.

Timidly, I start, "H-Hello?" Stupid, I could've done better!

"Lilly!" Her voice blasted out from my phone's speaker. Nearly dropping it, I catch it after its third flip in mid-air. I bring it back to my ear again. "—got to come over now!"

"Huh?"

"Lilly! Entertainment Weekly gave me the first print of the magazine! They also gave Lola one, too! Oh my gosh, you've got to come over now!"

"O-ok, I'll be there in five." I hang up the phone and look at it. This is so weird. Looks like I actually do have a reason to go over. I grab my scuffed-up skateboard that's lying underneath the table and head out the door.

Ok, there's gotta be a perfect reason why my body's moving before my brain is. It's 'cuz of the magazines, duh! I mean, who wouldn't want to see tons of pictures of themselves in a national top-selling magazine?

Wait a sec…what if the photoshoot was all just a prank? It's like they just took lots of pictures of Lola and Hannah just for the fun of it, just to embarrass me in front of a bunch of strangers…and she was behind it all. Ooooohhhh…she's good. I swear, if it was a prank, I'm gonna…And I ditched school, too! Oh, she's gonna owe me big time.

I hit the crack on the curb in front of the Lavinski's house. No, wait. She didn't do it for a prank, psh. She wouldn't have anyways. She specifically did it as a surprise for me because I broke up with Oliver. It's because she cares for me. Awww, that's so nice of her! But she's just doing that because she's my best friend, not like my secret lover or anything of the sort. Sheesh. Where did that thought come from?

"Ack!" I crash into Dontzig's clump of rose bushes face first. God damn it. I should've seen that stupid bump; it's always been there since Miley moved here. Gradually, I move the skateboard from under my stomach and push myself up. Ow, maybe I shouldn't have done that. Stupid thorns. So instead of pushing myself up, I roll on the middle of the sidewalk and just lay there. I knew I should've worn my helmet. And my pads. Yea, that would've been a smart idea.

"Hey, get off my yard, tramp!" Tramp? I glance to the side and see a bright blue blob inching closer to me. Did the sky fall? Squinting, I finally see who it is. "Get outta here, you lousy—"

"Don't call me lousy; you better take care of your roses and that stupid bump on your sidewalk!" I get up and point to the ground. Stupid, he better watch what he's saying. He mocks me by saying wordless mumbles, but I ignore him and pick up my skateboard, walking my way over to Miley's house. How old is he? 60? And he's acting like Jackson. Pathetic.

Dontzig's rants became quieter as I walked onto the Stewart's front porch. Stupid skateboard. I drop it on the floor near the pillowed chair and look at my blistered hands. Ugh. I should probably ask for a few band-aids. I open the door to hear music blaring from the speakers.

Instantly, I cover my ears from the shock. I call out her name, but my voice gets drowned out by the freakin' rap music that's playing. How could she even listen to this kind of song? I thought she didn't like it.

Why is she dancing? Is she that excited that our magazines came? Or maybe it's 'cuz I decided to come over for the first time in a week. Psh, I wish.

Girl I'm trying to think of just what to say Lookin' at your body just hurts my brain…No kidding. I think I'm gonna need some water.

"I wanna see you move move, shake shake, now drop what'cha momma say!" she exclaims as she sticks her butt out.

I laugh softly and walk over inside and grab her shoulders. Slowly she stops, turns around and smiles nervously. I smile back.

"Hi Miley."

She clears her throat and shuts off the music. My ears are ringing. "Lils, what happened to your face?" Her light fingers graze past by my cheek and I wince. That hurt. Stupid Dontzig and his stupid flowers.

"I crashed into Dontzig's roses," I shrug. It's not really a big deal or anything; I get scratches from skateboarding all the time. Miley drags me to the kitchen and takes out a cloth. She then applies it on my face. I close my eyes and try to breathe even breaths. It's not exactly working when her face is inches close to my face. "S-so, where're the magazines?"

Miley turned around and got the first aid kit from the kitchen island drawer. "Oh, they're in my room. I just saw the cover and it looks really pretty. I didn't want to open it myself, so I had to call you." She took out a small band-aid and ripped off the package. "So what happened? Why didn't you come over this week?"

I shiver as her cold, long fingers press softly against my hot face. I bite my lip and force out a lie. "Oh, Mom, she was being a clingy parent. She thinks that we don't spend time together and all…" I finish with a breathless sigh. Dear god, that was too obvious. Quick, I have to change the subject. "So, what's up with you and your…dancing?"

Miley blushes and steps away from me. She ducks her head down and puts away the kit. "Oh, well, I-I was," she swallows. I grin. Aw, she's so cute when she's nervous…Stop it, Lilly, stop it! Control your hormones! "Promise not to tell anyone," she pleads. "Or laugh about it, because it is a genius idea." I nod, dying to find out why. What's so genius about an idea? "Well, I had a wedgie and I decided to booty-pop into it."

I snicker and bite my tongue. "So, just booty-pop into your wedgie and dance like there's no tomorrow than just pulling it out?"

"Of course! I mean, pulling it out is just so gross sometimes. Like, you really don't wanna pinch yourself by accident and it's kinda embarassin' when you have to pull it out in public, like, there's gotta be another way t—"

I stop her before I crack up and die in her kitchen. Her and her cute ideas. "O-ok, Miles, ya got me. Just, just TMI…" I say as I sit on their green couch. "Oh boy," I sigh as I wipe my tears. "Miley, show me the magazines! I need to—" Where is she? I finally notice that Mr. S and Jackson aren't here. It's funny how when you're completely infatuated by a single person, you hardly notice what's going on around the person and yourself.

"Here they are. Yours is still in the envelope. And don't make fun of the 'wedgie dance.' Sooner or later, you're gonna end up dancin' like there's no tomorrow, too." She plops down right next to me. With no space in-between. Our knees and hips touching, bare arms barely brushing. Darn, I should've worn a pair of shorter shorts. Stop it! Where the hell are these thoughts coming from? Anyways, I already had enough body-to-body touching interaction at the photoshoot…Nah, not really.

She hands me an envelope with "Lola Luftnagle" written in loopy handwriting. "Sure, Miley, sure. Whatever keeps you happy," I smile to her and open my envelope.

Holding a breath, I take it out slowly and stop on when I see that there're two foreheads on the cover. One blonde with highlights and the other a light pink. Now I'm scared to take it out. Nah, it could've been the dog that was wearing a pink wig Hannah was holding during the beginning of the photoshoot. So I close my eyes and take it out in one swift motion. Finally I open my eyes.

No. Freakin'. Way.

"I know, right! Doesn't it look so cool?" My mind is blank and all I can think of is the cover on the May-June 2010 summer volume of Entertainment Weekly that's right in front of me.

That…can't possibly be…me. I look so…so…

"Wow, Lilly! You look so freakin' hot! Damn, you're gonna make the boys drool if they see this!" I glance over to Miley gripping the magazine and grinning like an idiot. I mean, not like she is one, although sometimes she could be one…But anyways.

I take a look at the cover. I blink a few times. Is this right? I look at Miley's magazine. Yep, it's right. A picture of me and Miley in a pair of matching string bikinis, smiling to the reader, from the mid-stomach and up. And in close-up, too. I could see my freckles and small mascara clumps on my eyelashes. And my boobs…well, they don't look like they're mine. I look down at my chest. Yea, they definitely aren't mine. Is this even allowed?

Then it hits me. This picture and possibly the many other pictures we took that might be in the article will be sold to thousands of millions of people nationwide. Maybe even worldwide! Oh god, what have I done? "Miley, why am I on the cover?" my voice shakes. Mom's gonna kill me when she finds out…

"Well…I kinda sorta asked Ricardo and the staff at Entertainment Weekly to put this cover up," her voice squeaks higher.

She what?! Whatever, that's not the main problem. "Why am I on the cover of a nation-wide magazine?" I ask once again as I'm still looking blankly at the picture staring back at me. "Why am I staring at my own face?" And the fact that I'm looking at my enhanced chest.

"You kinda," she starts, "You have ta…You gotta read the interview inside."

"But I wasn't interviewed."

"I know you weren't, but I was, and it's 'cuz you're kinda the main topic in the article."

"I'm what?! Great, so you guys talk about me in a magazine—"

"Well, not really you you; you as Lola…kinda," her voice quiets down. I'm speechless. I can't rip my eyes off of her winking at me. I look around the edges and see in a big and bold font next to Hannah on the right side, "HANNAH AND LOLA: A PERFECT PAIR (pg. 56)" with a little fashion tip page about the outfits we wore that day.

My brain starts to function again as I look at it. Why am I a topic in an article? This doesn't make any sense. "What…why? How?" I manage to choke out. I mean, do they think that we're a lesbian couple, too? Oh god, then the whole world's gonna think that we're a lesbian couple! I mean, not that I wouldn't mind the world's approval of me dating "Hannah."

Lilly, breathe…I've got to breathe and relax. It would be nice though if it were about us in a relationship. But that's only in my dreams…

Miley takes in a breath. "Just read the interview and you'll know why." I punch in a fake glare at her and scoff. She smiles weakly and clears her throat. "Do you want some water? You look like you need some," she tries to recover.

"Yes, I am parched. Get me some water," I command and open the glossy magazine.

"Yes'm," and she takes off to the kitchen. Ok, maybe that was mean, but she deserves it. I mean, she could've told me that she was gonna have an interview about me as a topic. I could've told her what to say about me. And she could've told me that I'm gonna be in a freakin' magazine cover! Geez, I really don't want to read this.

"Lil, calm down. I didn't humiliate you in a nation-wide article," she laughs as she sits down next to me again. "Why would I do that to my bestest friend in the whole wide world?" she wraps an arm around me. Ugh, I feel so weak now. I'm usually not like this.

"Fine, I mean it's not like you said that I have a poodle-shaped birthmark on my butt," I say. I glance at her and she stares at me. "You didn't, did you?" My voice rises in suspicion as she stays quiet. "I swear, Miley Ray Stewart, if you—"

"Oh my god, Lilly, I didn't!" she laughs. "Remind me not to mess with you next time." She opens the magazine and laughs. Oh ha-ha.

Quickly I open it to page fifty-six. I'm in shock. I don't know why but this…it looks so cool. I shouldn't have been angry earlier. Who knew I would look so good? Seeing myself pose on the platform with Hannah, an international popstar, I look like a freakin' goddess.

"Eep! This is so cool! I'm a star, I'm a star, I'm a star!" I dance around in my seat, clutching the slim book to my chest. "Miley look!" I point to a picture of us laughing while dancing out of nowhere. I mean, it might look kinda weird that we're dancing on a platform with a pair of white string bikinis, but hey, it's for a photoshoot.

"I swear Lilly, I wonder if you're bipolar or somethin'," she teases. I stick my tongue out at her and she mimics me.

Reading the headliner at the top, I know now why she wants me to read the interview. "Hannah and Lola: A Perfect Pair," I read out loud. Then underneath it says, "Best Friends 'Til the End of the World." I look at Miley and she looks at me.

"Awww!" I mush and I offer a hug. I can't believe they'd do an article about our friendship; that's just so…awww! And I can't help but notice that Miley isn't letting go of her arm around me. Maybe I should do something that best friends would find normal. I should wait, just wait a little longer. I have to be patient, no mater what my body wants me to do.

"So, do you like it?" Miley takes in a drink and flips through a page of all of our pictures together on the beach.

"Heck yea I love it. But where am I gonna be in this interview instead of the pictures?" I ask as I look at her.

Miley smiles to me and picks up my magazine to my face. "Just read it."

I take it from her hands and sit back. I dunno what it is, but the feeling when Ricardo was checking me out before I modeled was coming back. Stupid anxiety. Making my nerves a freaking mess.

Glancing back and forth at the picture of us at the left side dancing horribly, I read on the opposite page of Hannah being interviewed. Maybe I should read it out loud, just so it could sink in more.

"'Hannah Montana and her B.F.F, Lola Luftnagle could be compared as Lucy and Ethel in 'I Love Lucy' for their infamous prank in Punk'd on their friend Mike Standley III, but they could never be compared for what they have in their special relationship.'" I stop and my body feels faint. Oh no. They know about my feelings! Am I too obvious to figure out?!

"Keep goin'. It gets better," she says when I take a look at her smiling at the photos.

I let out a shaky breath. "'They've been together through thick and thin, boys and crushes, and monthly problems. These two show the perfect example of being trustworthy and dedicated to a lifelong friendship.' Awww, whoever wrote this is, is so true."

"I know! Keep reading."

"Ok, ok…" I skip a few lines that were just basically repeating the same thing. "'Here we have popstar, Hannah Montana, to talk about Lola Luftnagle and their friendship.'

'Now, Hannah, you are one of the top-selling pop artists in the world. And, well truth be told, Lola isn't all that well-known like you are.' Hey, this person better watch it, I can sue."

Miley laughs and kicks her feet up the table. "You are one of a kind, Lils."

I blush and continue. "'So how did you and Lola meet?' And Hannah says, 'When I first moved here from Tennessee, I was completely lost, no friends, no home and such. But when I had my first big break and a promo for my debut album at El Capitan, I met Lola there and we just clicked, just like any other people would.' Wow, you sure know how to put a story, 'Hannah.'" I tease her, although this does sound pretty believable.

"What can I say, I'm a genius."

"Yes, you and your 'wedgie dance' are just the beginning of your many 'genius' ideas."

"Shut up and read."

I click my tongue and continue reading. EW (aka Entertainment Weekly) kept on asking about Lola and Hannah's adversaries against the paparazzi and what we do in our spare times. Wow, Miley can really tell a story. All of this is pretty damn convincing. As I read, I try not to lay my head on her shoulder. Darn it. Stupid Miley, why'd you have to put your arm around me; you're torturing me.

What the hell, it won't hurt anyways. What's the harm?

I lay my head on her shoulder and pretend to yawn. God, her shoulder is so comfortable. "Miley, how long is this interview gonna go?" I say, still skimming through. It's like the same thing over and over again; blah, blah, blah. So I skip one page and look at our pictures. Aw, they made a little printed scrapbook with our pictures!

They put in the picture of us lounging in the chairs on one side as Polaroid prints with little sayings underneath it. The rest of the platform pictures were close-up pictures and designed in photo booth print. It looks so funny. I remember everything that happened at that moment. The touching, hugging, and the looks that were given. It was all so magical. It only seemed like we had a…special connection, something more than just being best friends. God, I have to tell her now.

"Miles, I have to—"

"Wait, you've gotta read the interview! You skipped one page, you cheater."

What the hell, I sigh. I shrug it off and read the previous page. I glance up and down, pretending to be smitten by the words. That is until one question caught my eye.

I perk my head up and read it out loud. "'So is this whole interview a surprise for Lola?'

'Yes, it is. I'm gonna surprise her in the photoshoot and make her take pictures with me.'

'So that's why you're doing the interview first. What if Lola says no?'

'Oh, don't worry. It's a photoshoot for Entertainment Weekly! How is she gonna say no to that? More believable, how could she say no to me?'" I look at Miley then back at the questions. So, this whole thing was set up for me?

Miley looks at me and picks up the book and stuffs it in my lap. "Keep reading," she says quietly. Her eyes look so lonely and afraid. What's she scared about? Oh no, does she know I like her? I mean like as in love with her kinda like?

"Uh, um. Yea." My vision becomes blurry all of a sudden. I'm afraid now. I'm afraid that she knows and that she'll never talk to me again.

"'So why are you doing this all for Lola?'

'Because she's been there for me through thick and thin. She's always there for me when I needed advice and she's never chickened out when I needed help. She really deserves this. She's literally like my other half. I love her so much that I'd do this and anything else for her.'"

I stop and look at Miley. "Really?" I hold a breath, hoping that she really means it.

"Yea," she takes away my magazine and puts it on the table. I follow her every move until she puts her fingers underneath my chin. Ok, now I'm scared. I have to say something and now is a good time.

"Miley, we need to talk." Wow, that sounded a lot harsher when it's said.

"Oh no. You know?"

Aren't I supposed to know? I mean, it's my own feelings right? Or, maybe she can read minds…No, stop it, just spit it out. "Aren't I supposed to know?"

Miley takes her hand back with a confused look. "Wait, what do you know?"

I sigh. Oh god, I can't breathe. "Miley, I-I know for a fact that I like you. In fact, I like you so much that it scares me that I think I might be in love with you," I finish quickly. Wow, that happened a lot more quicker than I thought it would, but it still hurts to say it. I close my eyes and look away from her. I feel sick now. I could just imagine her with a disgusted face behind me. Maybe I should leave now. I stand up and pick up my magazines.

Then when I'm thinking that she's going to let me leave, she wraps her arms around my waist from the back. Instantly, my body loses the tension and melts. I feel her face lean against my shoulder. If she's pitying me, it is not working.

"Mi-Miley, uh." What am I supposed to say? What is she trying to do? "If you're trying to—"

"Lilly," she turns me around. She's…smiling? With tears? Unconsciously, I wipe my eyes and notice tears, too. I'm crying? "Lilly, oh god." Then she does the unexpected.

She kisses me squarely on the lips. My neck stiffens and I push her off. Not that I didn't like it, it's just…

"Lilly, what's wrong? Di-did I do something wrong?" she touches her lips and her voice warbles.

"No, no! God, no! I've been waiting this moment for my whole life! It's just—"

"Then why did you push me away?" God, once a diva, always a diva.

I roll my eyes and blush. "Because I think my lips are dry." I cover my mouth.

Then I hear a squeak. I glance at Miley who's now clutching her stomach and sitting on the couch. Is she-is she laughing at me?

"Oh, geez…you…lips," and she bursts into laughter. I gape at her and cross my arms.

"You think this is funny? Just so you know, I want it to be perfect," I humph and turn away from her.

"I'm sorry, sorry," I can hear her voice still having that laughing aftershock. I turn back to her with a frown. She immediately shuts up. "Lilly, I'm sorry, really." I smile softly and she does, too. "Y'know, if you do have dry lips, I know how to make'em un-dry," she says in her accent. She smirks as she brings me closer. I gasp quietly and drop the magazine on the floor. And as quick as that, I'm breathless.

She inches closer and closer while my eyes flutter to a close. I think she's teasing me by lightly brushing her strawberry glossed lips to my dry ones. I open my eyes to see her closed ones and her slightly smirking. She thinks…Oh god…Wait, what was I thinking?

Impatiently, I close the gap between us and her arms wrap around my waist. I tip toe as my arms pull her neck in closer to me. Finally I see it. I see, feel the fireworks. This feeling is so deliciously good.

Damn, she's a good kisser.

I don't know who pulled off first, but I don't care, 'cuz now I can kiss her like that anytime I want to. I gasp for air as we plop down back on the couch. Yes, now I can freely cuddle to her. Smirking, I sigh as she leans her head on top of mine.

For awhile, it's nice and quiet. I could live like this.

"Hey, Ricky sent us extra pictures. Have I told you that you smell delicious?" I laugh. Funny what love can do to ya; it makes you say the craziest things.

"Really? I don't think you did before, but thanks. I decided to get away from apples, 'cuz, you know…" I say. I take the other yellow package with 'extras' written on it. Miley opens it for me as I look at her from her shoulder. She's so…beautiful. Dang, I am one lucky bitch. I push myself up and give her a peck on the cheek. She stops whatever she's doing and smiles back at me. I think we're back to kissing again. She leans in and our lips touch. Ha, I'm right.

She pulls away and rests her forehead on mine. This time I speak up. "Have I told you that you are an amazing kisser?"

Giggling, she kisses my nose. "You haven't before, but now I know what kinda kisser I am."

I take the envelope away from her and take out the pictures. Whoa they took a whole lot of pictures. I haven't seen this many in my life! I notice that they're separated into different files. I took out the one that says "Behind the Scenes." It sounds interesting. Miley took half of the stack and we see pictures of us in the make-up tent with Lucifer and his partner applying eyeliner on us. Others were from the piggyback ride, which I notice that they only put one enlarged picture of that in the magazine, thank god. I didn't know I was laughing during that, because I strictly remember that I was crushing Miley's breathing tubes and making uncomfortable faces.

"Ha, look at that," Miley says out of nowhere. "That looks so cute!" She points at one picture of our backs facing the camera. We were looking at the sunset; it happened before we shot the piggyback ride and when I thanked Miley for doing this for giving the best break-up experience…Wait a minute…

I take a look at the magazine's interview date. It happened before I broke up with Oliver. I push myself away from Miley and stand up.

"Miley, this interview happened before I broke up with Oliver," I point to the magazine. "So that means that the photoshoot was bound to happen eventually." I cross my arms in front of me. So she was gonna do the photoshoot even when I was still going out with Oliver? Gah, I'm so confused!

She stands up and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Lilly, I can explain—"

I interrupt. "No, you knew this would happen. Geez, Miles. How could you do that? You would actually steal me away from Oliver?"

She steps back and crosses her arms. "Hey, don't go flatterin' yourself that I'd steal you away from Oliver." She sits back down and pouts. "It just so happened that you broke up with Oliver days before the photoshoot." She looks back at me with a mad frown. "And I didn't know you would've had return the feelings, sheesh." Then she mumbles something else.

"What?" I sit back down next to her.

"I said it's 'cuz I wanted to look at you in a bikini..." she looks away and shifts uncomfortably. Oooohhh. That makes sense. I would've thought the same thing, actually. Hell, I think that's a great idea. Sure, it's a bit daring to say that, but still. We have the same intentions, right? Ok, so I'm not mad at her, but I can't give in easily.

"Miley, I'm very disappointed in you," I say. Miley quickly turns her neck around. I could've sworn she could've gotten whiplash. She frowns and pouts. Ha, I love it when she does that. "Don't think that puppy dog pout will work on me, Miley Ray. I think I should give you a punishment." And boy, do I have one.

Miley, thinking this is real and all, which is such a funny sight, looks worried and looks into my eyes. "What're you gonna do?"

"Hmm…Carry me to your room and we may find out."

Instantly, her face changes and she gives me that sexy little smug with a little wiggle of the eyebrows that melts me in an instant. She stands up and turns her back to me. She wags her hands behind her back to let me know that she can't wait any longer.

I hop on her back and I squeal like last time. "Dang, Lilly, you really need to go on those South Beach diets," she groans and re-adjusts me as I hop again on her back.

"Shut up or you're gonna get more of it," I breathe into her ear. Suddenly she perks up and turns her head to face me.

"Oo la la," she smiles smugly and slowly makes her way up the stairs. She did not just say "Oo la la." God, she's making ballistic. So, instead of breathing into her ear seductively, I let go of one arm and reach back. I slap her butt and she yelps. Ha, that's what you get for making me impatient.

"Whoo! Someone's gettin' a little feisty." I can hear her smile again as she jogs up. My body (I can't believe I'm saying this) humps her back as she skips a few stairs. So what if it's dry-humping; it's still humping.

"Shush, Miley Ray, I'm still mad at you," I whisper to her ear. It's funny. Everytime I do that, she tends to perk up and walk a little faster. She trips on her own feet, but catches herself against the wall. I choke her and squeak. "Whoa, someone's a little impatient," I mock back.

Miley grunts as she sets me down in her room. She walks backwards towards her bed and I shut the door, locking it. My body moves on its own as everything else seems like a daze in my mind. I smile seductively as I walk my way to her bed. "Now…What will your punishment be…"