Previously on Dance Academy: Last Chapter: After the Christmas highs come the January blues, but no matter how difficult the rehabilitation process is being for Tara, Christian is still there, and he has found ways to be part of the solution.

Cornered

I get to the studio after my pool shift to find it once again blessedly deserted. I don't even bother to put music on, I just dance all the happiness bubbling in me from my little breakthrough with Tara. I dance with hope. And it's lively, exhilarating even. Such a stark contrast from what Wes saw. Both dances keep trotting in my head. So I refine them, I tweak, I try to remember the nuances. I watch for patterns.

But then, my head is about to explode. I rummage through my bag but find nothing useful. I grab my phone, but there's no way I can type all this on stupid predicted text. I open the voice record app and try to explain, but I just end up mumbling and rephrasing; it's useless.

So I trawl through The Company building. The store rooms are locked, not that it would contain anything I might need. The janitor's cupboard is open, but what the heck am I going to find of use in there. I'm not going to draw my dance on toilet paper, am I? The office is, like every other door, decidedly closed off. But then I spot the photocopier and take a whole wad of paper out of the drawer.

And I draw, I sketch, I label. It's not great, but it will have to do. By the end, I've covered both sides of at least fifteen A4 sheets.

I'm still on a high of excitement as I get out, only to come crashing back to Earth as I bump into Abigail coming out of the gym. And she just stares at me with those narrowed eyes that make me feel both naked and guilty when I have nothing to hide. Have I?

'Was that your new role I saw you practicing for?'

'What? Oh no. I was just, you know, dancing.'

'Ah, no. Not with me, Christian. You can bat your eyelashes at every other girls and fool them, but not me. That was not just dancing.'

'Well it was.'

'So what is this? She points at the ream of paper still in my clutch.

I can't help it, before I even realise how pathetic this is, I've moved them behind my back.

Abigail holds out her hand, her whole body blocking as much as she can of the way out.

I just raise my eyebrows. She might be the strongest, most pig-headed person with low morals I ever met, but I won't let her intimidate me.

The glare falls at my stance, and she smiles that warm cheeky grin of hers that transforms her face from tyrant to cherub. I've gained her approval. 'Oh come on, Christian, just show me. You know I'll find a way if I want it bad enough.'

I laugh with her. 'Yeah, you probably would, but it's not worth bothering, trust me. I promise, this has nothing to do with the April show.'

Abigail turns to free the corridor and walks alongside me. 'So, what is it?'

I shrug. 'Just some ideas.'

'I liked what I saw.'

'Was it the sad or the happy one?'

She stops for a second. 'There's more than one piece?'

'Abs, it's not a piece, it's just me messing about. But yeah, so far there seems to be two.'

'Hmm. Well, it definitely wasn't the happy one, or if it was, it's not very good at all.'

'Maybe it isn't.'

'Can I see then?'

I slide my rucksack off my shoulder and shove the papers in. 'Not ready yet.'

Abigail scrutinises me with that trademark lopsided pout, measuring my resolve.

I just stand firm and placid.

'I see.' Abigail shrugs as she walks on again. 'How's Tara?'

'Good, she's good. Well, some of it is good, some of it not so much. She's not progressing as quickly as she'd like. But sometimes it's as if she forgets she's had complications, and more swelling, so of course it would take more time than what it says in her stupid forums.'

Abigail gave me a knowing raise of her eyebrow. 'Tara and her internet, hey!'

'You've said it.'

'Can I come and see her now? She would be home, right?'

'Yeah, she would. Course you can come.'

sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

When we arrive, Tara is sitting in one of the tall stools again, the only place she is comfortable, really, apart from her raised bed. Anything low is both painful and impossible to get out of. She has two guide books spread in front of her and a note pad with a list taking most of the page.

Jan rolls her eyes at me. 'Tara is planning my life.'

Both Abigail and I laugh.

That's when Tara notices us. She tries to get up to greet Abigail, but quickly sits down again. Abigail exchanges a side look with me.

'Hey you, how are things?'

'Oh well, great, as you can see.'

'Will you be staying to dine with us Abigail?' Jan asks.

'Oh no, I just wanted to say hi, really. And I also wanted to do this.'

Before I can even notice her move, she's grabbed my bag off the floor, unzipped it and got the papers out.

'Oh my goodness, Christian,' she giggles as I fail to retrieve it. 'You could have shown me this, it means absolutely nothing to me.'

'What is it? Abigail, what is it?' Tara is so curious, she nearly gets out of her seat.

'Christian's new dance, and it does look half decent in real life, if not on paper,' Abigail says between guffaws and finally lets me get it back.

Tara holds her hand out to me. 'Can I see?'

And I can't say no to her. Maybe I should, but I just can't.

I don't want to look desperate, I want to look elsewhere as if her opinion does not matter to me at all, but my eyes keep scanning her face for every changes that might happen there.

She scrunches her eyebrows, then raise them right up, her lips pinched as if she is holding back laughter. Then she nods, an overly kind smile barely rounding her cheekbones. 'You should ask Ethan to teach you choreographic notation.'

My whole body tenses.

'Absolutely right.' Abigail comes back to join us, her mocking grin still taunting me.

'You know what?' Tara says. 'Let's ask him now.'

She pulls her laptop from underneath the Sydney Lonely Planet and starts up an online chat.

'No Tara, don't, I don't need-'

But she's already connecting. And she is all smile. She and Abigail playfully vie for Ethan attention, their voices rising up with shrill intensity, and I am eaten alive with jealousy, tugging at my stomach, constricting my throat, tightening my jaw.

'Look Ethan, how hard would it be too teach someone traditional notation?' Tara finally asks after many flirty platitudes.

'It depends, why? Two days ago you were telling me things were doing fine. Surely nothing's changed so bad that you've now given up? Are you alright?' he asks with great concern. And I want to punch him right through the screen. What does he mean, two days ago? How long have they been speaking? And how comes that I don't know about it?

'Not for her, Ethan, for this one ruminating behind me,' Abigail teases some more.

I just about manage to stretch my arm for a wave as Abigail and Tara part shoulders to reveal my neglected presence.

'Christian? Choreography that you actually need to write down? Wow!'

I shut my jaw so tight I'm worried for my teeth.

'Look, sure I can. What have you got so far?'

Abigail snatches my sketches out of my hands again. 'This,' she says with a trill of laughter that makes my fist curl in even more.

But at least Ethan is not joining in, and that calms me some. He squints to see the paper through the poor web link. 'Okay, I get some of it. You know what, Christian?'

Just the fact that he is talking straight to me, with a business face on, I can breathe that little more easily. I wedge myself between Tara and Abigail to better listen as he keeps reading what he can see. 'Yes, I know. How about you scan those to me. And if you get a chance to video yourself, do and send me that too. I'll get you some easy notes on the basics, and then I'll get some of it down. You're a bright guy, you'll make sense of it fast enough.'

'No, look, I'm sure you're busy and all, don't worry.' I reclaim my work and shove it down my pants, daring Abigail with a stare. Her disgusted face says it all: I've won. I return my attention to Ethan. 'It's okay, I'm not even sure why Tara is bothering you with this, it's nothing really.'

Ethan smirks. 'Are you worried I'm gonna steal it from you?'

I smirk right back. 'You should, it's that good.'

'Oh, really?'

'Yeah, really.'

And just like that, it's as if we are back in First Year, jesting with each other.

'Well, the girls have seen it, so you can claim copyright, and I've got plenty amazing ideas of my own to keep me busy for years. But you know what? I'm planning to come to Sydney at the beginning of February. I can help you with notations then.'

I start for a second. 'Where are you?'

'Hasn't Tara told you? I'm doing a stint in Austin.'

'I see.'

'Did she tell you that Ben is the principal there now? Not bad, hey? But I guess you're not doing bad either, from what Tara tells me.'

So she talks to him about me, but not to me about him. I see.

'Seriously, Christian, if choreographing is something you might be interested in, then notation is going to be a must. You'll crack it, and you'll see, it really helps.'

'I- look, thanks but I have no plans really.'

'Yeah, you do. Right guys, I've got to go. Talk again soon, Tara. And Abi, call me too, it'd be good to catch up.'

Argh, the smiles, I just can't stand the smiles, on either side of the screen.

'And Christian, you know where to find me now, so do.'

And I want to keep on hating him. But I somehow I just can't.