I toss and turn all night. Despite my best efforts, sleep evades me. It's pointless. Every time I close my eyes, her face is there, burned into my eyelids. Her eyes wet with tears, her mouth screwed up into a sad, painful frown. Her brain is telling her to give up but her heart is saying it's not over yet. She's come this far, hang in there. She is torn between the two, not sure what to believe. She has never been so unsure of herself before and it frightens her. I can see it all over her face, and it frightens me too.

Giving up any feeble attempt at sleep, I decide to go for a run. Though it helps, I still can't fully focus on the task at hand. The cool night air that usually helps to clear my head does nothing to soothe me this time around. Like no matter how fast or how far I run, she is chasing me, getting closer with every step I take.

Stopping to catch my breath, I can see the opera house in the distance, and the full force of reality hits me square in the chest. She may never walk again. She may never dance. The second thought is even harder than the first. Tara not dancing is like the sky not being blue. Too unreal to comprehend. She loves dancing. She is dancing. How could I have been so selfish? How could I have resented her for being so focused on something she was so clearly meant to do? Looking back now at all those times when she tried to help me and plan for me, and all I had done was push her away... why?

I know why. I was jealous. Jealous and angry. Jealous that she was so driven and knew what she wanted in life. Jealous that she had so much and I had so little. That no matter how hard I tried, the Academy was never going to accept me unless I turned my back on everything I knew and was. Angry at her for trying to change me. Angry at myself for wanting to change but not knowing how. For falling into the same holes I always fell into. For clinging to a past that made it hard to see a clear future for myself, blaming Tara for my unhappiness when it was all on me.

It is moments like this when I wish he was still here. Sammy. Thinking of him, my heart contracts painfully because I know that if I could just talk to him, it would all be okay. If he was here, he would know what to do, what to say to make this pain more bearable. He would smile, crack a joke, put his arm around me, because he loved Tara as much as I do. In a different way maybe, but he would know how I was feeling for sure.

But he's not here. He's gone. He's dead. The last thought rips though my body and the pain I'm feeling escalates to an indescribable level. I can't breathe. I hunch over on the sidewalk, one hand clinging to my chest, and I reach out and grab the railing with the other. Why isn't he here? What did he do to deserve this? He was such an amazing person, much better than me. He understood people and didn't judge anyone, no matter how they treated him. Take Abigail for instance. She was never nice to him, constantly berated him about his dancing, and yet he still managed to get through to her... to show her there was more to life than just dancing. And me. When we first met during audition week, he wanted to be mates. He saw it even when I couldn't. It was like he knew I needed him. Not just a mate, but him specifically. He was more right than he knew.

I blink back tears as I try to right myself. I'm not far from where Sammy died so I decide to visit the spot. As I arrive, I see a fresh wreath of flowers hanging from the tree. Ollie probably. He has enough guilt over Sammy to fill Sydney Harbor. And so he should. What he said to Sammy when he was only trying to help, only trying to make Ollie better, was unforgivable. At least it was to me. If Ollie had said that to me, punches would have been thrown, but not Sammy. Even though they broke up, I knew that Sammy wouldn't hold what Ollie had said against him. Sammy was better than Ollie deserved... better than I deserved.

The sun is starting to come up as I make it back to the dorm. I walk slowly up the stairs, just starting to feel tired, my body drained from my emotional run. I swing the door to my room open, only to find Ollie still asleep and I climb up to my bunk as quietly as I can. I don't want to wake him on the chance that he will ask me where I was. Even though Ollie and I are friends, we aren't that close where I feel as comfortable talking to him as I do to some of the others, at least not yet. As my head hits the pillow, my mind finally starts to go blank and I welcome sleep with open arms.