its_theclimb | The Stewart Family Ranch | Malibu, CA

It was September in Malibu, and Miley and her best-friend-slash-roommate-slash-basically-sister-even-if-Lilly's-mom-was-a-check-grabbing-daddy-hater should have started their senior year today. When they had left the house this morning, the two of them had invented their very own song and dance routine just for the occasion ("Seniors, seniors, sen-iors! Seniors, seniors, sen-iors!" with accompanying high kicks). But while Lilly had gotten to experience the joy of being a senior firsthand, Miley... hadn't.

"How could you forget to mail my registration?" she griped for what had to be the hundredth time. "It's not that hard, Daddy! You open the envelope, you put the paper inside, you send it off to the school. Easy as gettin' Uncle Earl into a pie factory."

Her father sighed. "Mile, we were on tour half the summer," he reminded her. "And between moving into this place and shufflin' halfway 'cross the country, it must've slipped my mind."

"This is so unfair!" Miley insisted. "I'm gonna miss senior ski trip, senior prom, and senior picture day." She flung her bag on the couch, and the only thing keeping her from stomping around the room in frustration was the new faux sheepskin rug on the floor that she was trying to keep clean and Jackson-free for as long as possible. "And thanks to you," she added with a glare to her father, "now the first senior lunch. With Pudding Priority." Clearly this was the worst of all the grievances. "I spent three years with tapioca; now it was gonna be creamy butterscotch."

Robby raised his eyebrows. "You don't even like butterscotch."

"It's like you've never been young, Dad!" Miley snapped.

Robby put down his bottle of water and crossed over to sit next to Miley. "Don't worry, honey, it's all taken care of," he assured her. "I'll just call the Superintendent of Schools."

"Superintendent?" Miley spluttered, clearly unappeased. "DAD. That is SMALL THINKING." She held up two fingers that were only millimeters apart to demonstrate. "Teeny-tiny, forget-to-mail-my-registration thinking." She took her phone out from her pocket and began to punch in a number. "This is a big problem and it needs a big solution."

Robby rolled his eyes. "Oh, who're you gonna call? The governor?" he teased.

Miley just set a condescending hand on his arm. "Please. I am not that dumb." She held the phone up to her ear, holding up her other hand to fend off further interruptions from her father. "Yeah, hello, White House?" she said when the line was picked up. "I'd like to speak with the President. It's Hannah Montana." At her father's look of disgust, Miley just beamed. "Yeah, I'll hold."

She lowered the phone and walked across the room, gloating. "See that, Daddy? Senior thinking." Except then she was taken off hold, and her mood abruptly changed. "Oh, hi, Mister President. I'm having a teeny-tiny little crisis with my school, and I was hoping you could help."

A beat.

"What do you mean, you can't get me back in? You're the President!"

Another pause.

"Boarding school? But I sang for your daughters!"

Pause.

"Oh, all right."

Miley's shoulders slumped as she hung up the phone.

Her father came over to sit with her, not sure of what to say. Just then, the door flung open and Lilly pranced in, trying to hide her enormous grin after her first day of senior year.

"Miley, what's wrong?" she asked, immediately noticing her best friend's distraught expression.

Miley's voice was shaky as she responded. "Lilly... I'm going to have to go to boarding school in Maryland."

[[And thus Miley's arrival is established! NFB/NFI for distance, obviously, but OOC is fine! Some dialogue taken/cut from Hannah Montana 4x02, "Hannah Montana to the Principal's Office."]]