Previously on Dance Academy: Last Chapter: Christian came to see Tara only to find her dressed to kill at an office job interview when all she was doing was trying to impress a fellow blogger, whose appearance reminded her that she needs to stay true about who she is, and that it will have to include facing whether her body is ready to try ballet again.

Courage

I come to pick her up and I don't know who's the most jittery.

We have tossed and turned the whole decision through and through. Even how to get there. Bus or bike? Long winded with perfect bun in place or easy of the ride with helmet hair? In the end the choice was easy.

She comes down to meet me as I wait by the curb, her smile pinched, her cheeks pale. She dons the helmet with a sigh. I can't image how it will fit without poking bobby pins into her scalp but she's saying nothing and the strap seems to fit okay under her chin.

Then up she comes, using me as a ladder like she always does, so it shouldn't send thrills down my spine into my stomach, but it does, as it did when she first climbed behind me and every time since.

She's settled and yet I do not start the bike. I stay put, her body pressed safely against my back, my chest acting as her shield.

'I think we should go,' she says, sounding all muffled.

She's right. But I like her right where she is. Yet off we go, leaving the safety of the known behind.

It's a decent ride through the town and then lounging the coast on the other. The view should be breathtaking as we cross the bridge but all I can focus on is the stretch of black tarmac.

Thankfully we find this other dance school, a brick box of a building that has none of the charm of the pier that hosts The Academy.

I stop right at the front, but for some reason I'm leaving the gas on, as if I'm readying to whisk her away again.

But no.

This is what she wants.

This is what she needs to do.

I kill the engine and let her climb down. I check my watch. We are early, of course. Tara had insisted in allocating time for city traffic, which I knew was not needed, but still didn't argue. Not worth it. Time with Tara is more time with Tara, wherever it is spent.

And I won't spend it away from her any more than I need to. I get off my bike.

We had not discussed whether I should come in with her or not. She will have to tell me otherwise because if she doesn't, then I'm in.

We push through the wide doors lighting the tiny lobby. No one's there, so we just look at the many photos and posters hanging everywhere like in any other self-respecting dance school.

Without warning Tara suddenly grabs my hand.

Is she about to escape or in need to be tethered down, I have no idea. I would do either for her, if I didn't know better. So tether it is as I stay right where I am.

Her hands slips through mine as footsteps echo down the flight of stairs. A slimmer, younger and blonder version of Miss Raine extends her hand with a welcoming smile.

'You must be Tara.'

'Yes.'

The teacher's attention falls on me, her eyes widening, her smile now stretched to maximum capacity. 'Mr Reed, well, hello, what owes us the pleasure?'

I quickly look at Tara's closed off face. 'I, erm, well, I'm just bringing Tara, that's all.'

This makes her look at Tara again, a thought of recognition passing across her features. 'Tara! Oh, I didn't make the link. You-'

'Yes,' Tara replies quickly to stop the comment before it is out.

'You were silver prize at the Prix de Fonteyn!'

Tara lifts her face in surprise, as if she had completely forgotten. As if anyone else would have forgotten too.

'That was a long time ago.'

'Well, not that long at all. I am sorry, I have booked you into the intermediate class, I thought that was what you requested, I must have misheard.'

'Ah, erm, no you didn't, I did ask for that class.'

I stare in shock. A beginner's class?

The lady looks taken aback. 'But surely...'

'I have a back injury. I need to start very low.'

'Oh, I see. Have you been cleared for taking classes again?'

'Yes.' Tara fumbles through her bag, pointedly turning her back to me to block off any possible eye contact. 'Here.' She hands her an Academy headed letter.

'That was written five weeks ago.'

'Yes.' Tara's eyes are on the floor, but then they lift up, her chin tilting upwards.

I'm not loving finding out that there's a whole lot of facts I don't know about, but I love the fire and boldness that now ignite her. She's going to need it.

'That's right,' she continues with more verve in her voice. 'But I wasn't ready. I am now.'

'Very well. Let me show you around. The class you booked is starting in ten minutes. There are two other classes at the same time this afternoon, one is pas-de-deux but the other is Advanced 1 if you would consider this instead, you would be welcomed there.'

Tara simply nods, but her eyebrows are tight. No one is going to change her mind.

The lady who has not introduced herself yet beams at me. 'And of course if you wanted, you could join us too. You were remarkable in your role with The Company, your expertise would greatly benefit our students here.'

Tara is staring decidedly into the distance again.

'No,' I nearly snap. 'but thank you,' I add more politely, but too late.

'Well,' she responds curtly. 'Please follow me.'

She can be annoyed as much as she wants, I'm here for Tara.

I grab Tara's hand and whisper, 'what do you want me to do?' Because if I'm being honest I would love to dance with Tara right now. To be at the barre right behind her, ready to encourage, to tone down, to catch even. But she probably doesn't even want me to watch.

'Do you want me to leave you to it?'

She nods quickly, her eyes unsettled and filled with anxiety.

The piano notes fill the air from the studios above and they hit me like a thousand pin prickles, bringing back to the surface all the niggling moments when I have been walking around The Academy and been pulled insatiably towards the studios. The weird desire to stretch when waiting somewhere, to pirouette in the corridors, to leap in open spaces. The push to demonstrate more than I should when I teach, which I work hard to subdue. The longing of joining Zach's class which ends just before mine starts. I didn't think it was possible but I have to admit the impossible. I am missing Ballet. And not just ballet: Company standard Ballet.

I grab Tara's other hand and push through them all that hunger, that desire and drive, to remind her how much she might be missing it too.

Maybe it works too well, for her eyes fill with watery shine.

'Tara, it will be alright,' I say as I squeeze her fingers before letting them go. 'It will.'

And this is not a platitude or a spineless cliché. It will be alright, whichever way it goes.

I watch her leave then I head back outside. I sit on the steps, out of the way of the stragglers rushing in. I put my MP3 on and try to get lost in Hip Hop. But no. I cannot get my mind into it.

That's unheard of.

So I sneak in.

I full well know I shouldn't but I still do.

Up the stairs I go, past one studio with three girls rehearsing, another with the pas-de-deux class, and I don't dare go any further. This will have to be my fix, looking at young dancers learning the ABC of partner work. I can remember it all so well. How tough it was at first for all of us. Not least of all those stupid so called ''trust'' exercises where I got Tara's back completely up. How I had wished already back then that she would take me at my dare and let me kiss her. Not that I had a chance in hell. That is so not who she was then, who she is still.

I check how the boys place their hands below the waist to steady their ballerinas. It took so long it took for Tara to trust me, for it to work for us. I remember like it was yesterday how it all had changed when she finally got her pointe shoes back. We laughed so much. It felt like the beginning of something before it all crashed down again with a slip of a kiss, from her perspective. I had been gunning for it. She denied it at the first opportunity.

Dancing together after that, and worst still after she saw Kat kiss me at the party, it was torturous hell. And then, then there was the beach, and the kissing, it became daily doses of pure heaven.

I turn my back on the dancer and slide against the wall till I'm sitting on the floor and take time to think it all over, our past. What made it so good, what inevitably made it so wrong, and how it has to change. We are listening to each other now, there is more trust. But look at us: I am stuck in friend zone when I want so much more.

I scan through all my failures. The jealousy, the trying to hint that her choice of boyfriend was wrong, that she should consider me instead. The pestering and always being around. The inviting closeness that she said she didn't want. The giggling with other girls to make her jealous. That had worked, but I am beyond that cheap trick. At the farm it had been so easy.

I am still racked with shame at my dire attempt at getting her back in the club when I was so low and so torn. That was tacky and disrespectful to the extreme.

All things considered, from the wisdom, of hindsight, it was good that she pushed me away then. It took me a long time to see clear, and I had to hurt some of my best mates in the process, but that clarity now might be worth it. Maybe.

All I know is that I am fast running out of chances, like a cat on its ninth life.

What do other people, normal people do? They don't stalk the object of their attention into submission, so what?

I have always hated the word 'date', it sounds so lame, so pink and fluffy. But a date might be exactly what we need, maybe even a lot of them. And that doesn't sound that dreadful at all.

Tara comes out last of her class. I had got up by then to let the others through, so she finds me still standing outside the other studio.

'Did you look?' she asks in barely covered disappointment.

'No, of course not. I was tempted, I admit, but I knew you wouldn't want me to. So... How did it go?'

Tara shrugs. 'I'm ready to go home.'

'Wanna change first?'

Tara nods and just heads for the changing rooms.

I am by my bike when she comes back out. Wordlessly she takes her helmet and waits for me to climb on.

'Shall we go and have something to eat first?'

Tara tilts her head as she thinks, then pouts. 'Okay.'

'Burger time then.'

We ride all the way to just outside of my hood. It's been a long while since I've been there. Since Sammy came to find me to bust me out of my funk and back fighting for my freedom. My favourite burger joint. It's me in a bun. That will have to do as a first ''date''.

'So?' I ask her as we sit outside in the wind of at the top of the skate park.

Tara hesitates. I cannot read a single clue on her face. 'It was okay.'

'Okay.'

Tara nods. 'I am not in pain, yet.'

'That's good, not okay.'

'Yes, I guess so.'

'And the class itself, was Madam any good?'

'The class was... easy.'

'That's good too.'

A gentle blush races across her cheeks. 'Yes.'

'So?'

'So what?'

'Are you going to go back?'

Tara follows the skaters with her eyes as they go up and down the half pipe. 'I'm going to have to find a job.'

'What?' Am I missing a link there?

'I don't have a scholarship anymore. If I want to study ballet at a decent school like this, I will have to earn something, quite a bit actually.'

'I see.'

'And I probably need to find a new home. I can't keep on living with Abigail like this. Well, without Abigail. Maybe it's time I rejoined real life. It's long overdue really.'

I should feel so glad. I should be relieved for her. This is a huge step forward, just too huge for me. I wish I could rewind the day and start over with the normality of going to her flat, for me to go up instead of her coming down, for us to have a cosy lunch rather than crossing over town and kick start all this possible change.

I'm being a wuss.

I take a deep breath. Change, it can also mean opportunities.

'Maybe we could find somewhere together. I earn enough now to get out of my cell.'

'Oh.' Tara's blush upgrades to full strength red beacons. It would be cute and maybe even promising if the rest of her face was not so forlorn.

'I mean, you might not want that. Maybe that would be too weird.' Oh shut up Cheds!

'I- I'll think about it. I mean, I don't think I can move right now, you know. I'm going to take time over this.

With this new possibility, I'm not so keen for normality to come back. Tara is dancing. She is projecting into the future. I'm going to have to do what it takes to remain a part of those plans, and the ones further still. And if it takes dates, then dates it will be.

Author's note: I hope you've enjoyed the little flash backs as well as the reality of the present events. As always I really welcome comments and/or reviews.