Disclaimer: I do not own Hannah Montana. I never will.

- Miley's Perspective -

I slowly trudged into my Malibu home, dragging my feet as I went. I carefully sat down on the couch. It wasnt the prettiest couch I've ever seen. It reminded most people of pea soup. But I know my dad kept it in the house out of the goodness of his heart. He and my mom bought it together when they bought their first house, and my dad never seemed to be able to let it go.

I suppose I respect him. I mean, once something is gone, it's hard to let it go. He didn't want to let my mom go, or even believe that she was dead. But as the years progressed, he found it easier to move on, and live life the way he wanted to, not the way his emotions wanted to.

I put my bag from the hosptial down next to the coffee table, and sat cross legged with my feet tucked beneath me. I clasped my fingers together and set them into my lap. My dad was in the kitchen making one of his protein drinks for his afternoon jog. Oliver had also come in, but he was upstairs using the bathroom.

I sighed, and decided to make the best with what I had.

I dug in between the cushions of the couch to find the missing remote. As soon as I found it, I turned our tv on and changed it to discovery channel. But, of course this week had to be a special on the life cycle of the human body, how it's created, and the normal processes it goes through to be prepared for death.

My hands clicked those buttons faster than you can say "Hannah Montana." I ended up watching a five episode marathon of Friends. It was an alright show, but not good enough to entertain me for a few hours until I went to sleep.

My dad went down to the beach for his run, and that left Oliver and I in the house. Usually, parents would object to such things. Being alone in a house with a boy, or even in the same room alone for that matter. But my dad knew better. He knew well enought that there was not, nor ever will be, anything between us. I mean, come on! We're best friends. That'd be weird...and gross.

Oliver came downstairs not ten seconds after my dad left. He came and sat down next to me, gently taking my hand in his. I knew this was a friendly gesture, and for that I was glad. My dad then came in. It was unusual because his jogs last a few hours.

"Not feeling up to running today, dad?" I said, wondering what led him to such a short time outside.

"Nah, that's not it bud, I just had to discuss something with you. I just forgot. But this is for your sake." He said, making me wonder even more than I had not moments ago.

"Oh, um, alright. Go ahead." I said, wanting him to continue.

"I'd prefer it to be private..." He said.

"Dad, there's nothing that you could say that I wouldn't want Oliver to hear. So just say it." I said, not wanting to be alone. This news must not be very pleasant. Normally, my dad is open about things, and just blurts them out.

"Well alright then. Whatever you want." He said, almost rolling his eyes in the process.

"Miles, I'm setting up therapy sessions for you. Now, don't go thinking that this is a shrink. Because she's not. It's just a nice lady trying to help you get through this tough time. I had to have one when your mom died. It took all I had to get through it. But in the end, it was all worth while. I could think about her and not cry or get upset. So, I want you to try it. Just a few times to see if you grow used to it. If there's any improvement, we'll continue. Bu-" I cut him off short, not wanting to hear any of this.

"What? You think I need help? I'm perfectly fine! I can very well deal with my emotions on my own. I don't need some other person that I don't even know, telling me how to feel! I want to feel sad and let it out when I have to. Not try to bottle it up and not show it in public like they want me to. They want me to contain myself. But that's something that I am incapable of. I want to show feeling, when I feel it." I said, feeling tears at the brim of my eyes.

"Now Miley, it isn't going to be bad. Just try it once. I don't need any of this nonsense from you. Not now." He said, looking me straight in the eyes and meaning it from what I could tell.

"You can't make me go. I won't." I said, abruptly standing up and crossing my arms.

"Miley Stewart! Do not make me even angrier than I am!" He said, voice edging towards yelling very noisely.

"Please dad! I can't! I won't! I don't need it! Isn't there something else that can be arranged? That could ease the pain, rather than put more of it on me?"

"Miley, I don't see what else that there could possibly be that could help your case."

"Dad! Oliver! Oliver can move in with me! Where L-...where Lilly used to sleep. Out in the barn! You know that we're best friends, right? Come on dad! It's the only thing you could do to make me happy!" I said.

This was such a good plan! Why didn't I think of it before?

"Miley...I don't know about that. He's a boy. Regardless of being your best friend. It's stretching the boundaries...I don't like it. I know Oliver wouldn't do anything, but you're my only daughter Miley. I can't help but be to careful." He said.

At this my face fell. There has to be another way.

"Come on dad. Please? It would make me feel less lonely, and I could talk to him abot my issues. And I'm sure he would listen!" I said, quite enthusiastically.

"Let's see how Oliver feels about all this." He said, cautiously, obviously hoping that Oliver would object.

"Umm, I'm down with it. That is, of course, if my mom says yes." He said, confused as of what was going on. He had only been paying attention to half of this argument.

"Well, then call your mother, son. Looks like you're going to have a new home." He grumbled silently, and turned away from us, walking back to the kitchen.

I could hear Oliver talking on the phone with his mom, explaining the proposition, and the details. Every so often, when his mom was replying, he would mumble a soft "Uh huh" or "Yeah".

After what seemed like forever, he slid his phone shut and put it back into his pocket. He lifted his head to look into my gaze, instead of his feet.

"She...she said yes." He said, seeming amused. I couldn't lie, I was surprised too. His mom never let him do this kind of stuff, let alone go alone to get and ice cream. She was just over protective like that. But, she's a cop. So she has reason I guess.

"Really! YES!" I screamed excitedly. I ran over and jumped into his arms, so thankful that I didn't have to go to therapy, and also that I didn't have to be alone anymore.

"Woah, Miley! Haha.." He laughed, as he stumbled backwards.

"Get off the poor boy Miley. He can't breathe! Anyways, you better go pack Oliver. I want you, and all your stuff here by dinner." Dad said in a strict tone of voice.

"Yes sir." Oliver said, making sure to obey the man who is so kindly letting him stay in their house.

A few seconds later Oliver was out the door and driving to his house. I must say that I missed him for a while, but nothing that I couldn't handle. I was tough.

My dad had to make a new protein shake, because his first one had separated into the two different liquids in the time that we were talking. But he was out the door soon enough, and I was left alone to sulk. I don't know how I'd manage if I was to be alone very often.

I went into the kitchen, set my phone down on the marble countertop, and opened the metal fridge. I found some orange juice, but that wasn't very appealing. So I settled for a fruit rollup that was in the cupboard. I picked my phone back up and walked to the recliner chair that rested next to the couch. I sat down and decided to watch some of my old Hannah concerts that I had recorded from live tv.

Occasionally I would sing along, but other times I just didn't feel up to it. During those songs that I didn't participate in, it would only be because I had wrote them for Lilly. They just explained our friendship and stuff. Normal best friend, girly things that a girl would normally write in her diary.

I sat there for a half an hour, until I got tired, and fell asleep on our pea soup couch.