'There aren't any words, and there isn't a dance for me to say goodbye. How can there really be a way to say goodbye to the guy who was your brother in every way there was, except maybe flesh and blood? I miss you so much that I pay your phone bill just to be able to call your voice mail, because I don't ever wanna forget your voice. I remember when you sunk your pointe shoes in the harbor. How we climbed the harbor bridge. When we took a skywalk on the morning of the prix. I don't wanna say the morning that you died, because I want to remember the good things so much more than the bad, like when Tara slapped Abigail with a pointe shoe right in front of half the class, the time that the cops got called to my house party and me and Petra were drunk. The time you first thought you were a labrador because of your muffins for mouse ears, and when you overdosed on energy drinks, and the time you locked everyone in the studio until they agreed to the hip-hop battle. Or the time that Abigail swears you climbed in her window to watch some black and white movie with her. Or that time we went ice skating at Bondi beach, and took class in a pool because of the heatwave. I don't know how to SAY goodbye, or how to DANCE it, but I think I can show it by living for the good times, like you used to do, and pushing the bad stuff to the back of my brain and forgetting it ever happened. Except for this. Because forgetting that you're gone means forgetting you were here, and I'd rather die than forget you.' Kat kissed Sammy's picture, put it in the paper boat and sent it off into the harbor, just like Sammy had done with his pointe shoes. Only this time, she was at her secret place, where that had only had good times.