He doesn't know it, but I see him walking towards me. I look down at the script in my hands and pretend to be preoccupied-really I'm hoping he doesn't notice the fact that I keep glancing up at him.

He doesn't know it, but I see him walking towards me. I look down at the script in my hands and pretend to be preoccupied-really I'm hoping he doesn't notice the fact that I keep glancing up at him.

"Hey, nervous about opening tomorrow night?" I look up and there he is. He's so close I can smell that gorgeous scent of him-the mixture of musk and hot sweat after he has come back from running, or while he's engaging in strenuous activities in our room. But I quickly remember that I can't think of those memories right now, so I turn away from him and start to walk in the opposite direction and politely answer his question.

"Not really" I hope he would stop there, but he doesn't, he just asks me another question.

"Hey, how's living with Lucas?" And I don't know why but my guard is completely let off and I turn back towards him. I could almost hear the sound of hidden hurt in Jason's voice. Something he has hardly ever shown. Because as his dad has said so many times: "Hurt is a sign of weakness. Affection is a sign of weakness. Love is a sign of weakness. Be a stone and you won't be weak"

"It's...it's fine" I turn back around, this time I'm not hiding my anger from him, I'm hiding my tears. My anguish.

"Peter, we graduate on Sunday, are you really never going to speak to me again?" he takes a breathe and I wait hopefully and eagerly to see if he adds anything to this "I miss you..." I turn back towards him and I'm about to turn around and beg for him to take me back again, and beg for him to love me again, and beg to be his roommate again, and beg to kiss him again, and beg for his forgiveness again (what I've done wrong, I'm clueless. But I know I've done many things that haven't been right). But as I open my mouth Sister Chantelle's voice breaks whatever it is I'm about to say.

"Ok, let's run Pilgrims' Hands"

"Ivy's not here, Sister Chantelle"

"Who's Juliet's understudy?"

"I am!" I see Diane's eager hand shoot up into the sky-this is something she's been waiting for her entire life. And I can't help but wonder all of the what-ifs, I mean, what if all this girls knew the real Jason? What if people knew about us? What if no one cared? I get into place for the scene.

"Alright Diane..." she motions for him to begin the scene, "Jason..."

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to soothe that rough touch with a tender kiss" Jason's moves are gallant and confident, he waltzes across the stage in a blur of passion and I wish I could trade places with Juliet for one moment-have my dance with my Romeo-instead of watching everyone else do it.

"Good pilgrim..." she pauses her speech but continues to move "Good pilgrim..." she has now completely stopped moving and dancing, "Wait! I know it, I swear!" And I begin to think of the "what-ifs" again. What if I traded places with her? What if I go up there and take her place? What if I stepped in and take over-I know all of the lines and the moves? What if Jason and I dance up there for everyone to see? And the what-ifs become the right-nows.

"Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much which mannerly devotion shows in this for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss" Right now I've traded places with her. Right now I've stepped into the role that has always been mine-because right now, I'm finally getting to dance with my Romeo, and everyone is watching.