Before I can stop myself, I reach over and place my hand on top of hers, gently rubbing it with my thumb. Her skin is soft against mine and it makes me realize how much I've missed her the last few weeks. Between classes and audition prep, we really haven't seen that much of each other. At least now we're friends again. We've hashed out all our issues and can actually have a conversation without any awkwardness.

But even though being friends has been great, it isn't the same. Being her friend hasn't stopped me from wanting to be with her or stopped my heart from beating loud and fast whenever I'm around her. It hasn't stopped me from imagining what it would be like to kiss her again, to feel her lips on mine. If anything, it's made me want her more. And even though I've tried so hard to banish these thoughts from my mind, to ignore the butterflies in my stomach when she's near, I can't. No matter how hard I try, those feelings are still there, threatening to break free at any moment. But I have to be fair to her. I have to respect her wishes. Just friends, at least for now. She must feel my hand on hers, because her eyes flutter open and instantly lock on mine. A smile spreads wide across her face, and I am again struck by how beautiful she is.

"Christian, you're here! What took you so long?" Her words are playful, but I can hear the teasing behind them, as if she wasn't sure I would actually come to visit her.

I smile back, intertwine my fingers in hers and say, "Hey there, Training Bra. How was your nap?"

She laughs and answers, "It was fine. I'm sure I'll be taking longer ones when I start my physical therapy. It's been tiring enough just with the doctors and nurses poking and prodding me since my surgery!"

What? Physical therapy already? So soon after her surgery? They sure don't waste any time.

She must see the concern on my face because she tries to reassure me by adding, "Don't worry Christian. They're going to give me a few days to recover before I start. The doctors are just curious to see how I'm healing so far. They've been squeezing it in here and there when I haven't had visitors."

A pang of guilt runs through me as Kat's words from before echo in my head. She's been waiting for you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up," I say, hoping she can see how much I mean it. "I wanted to be." She squeezes my hand tenderly and I can feel her warmth spreading through my whole body.

"It's okay Christian. I knew you were coming. You've had a lot to deal with the last couple of days. Kat was so mad though. She couldn't believe you weren't breaking down the doors to get in! It took a while to calm her down."

"Sounds like Kat to me," I reply with a smirk, remembering the not-so-warm-welcome she gave me out in the hallway. She laughs again, louder this time, then lets go of my hand and tries to sit up. I jump up from my chair to help, grabbing a spare pillow and placing it behind her.

"Are you sure you should be doing that? You don't want to hurt yourself," I say quickly, unable to hide the panic in my voice.

She pushes herself up, rolls her eyes and replies, "It's fine Christian, the doctor says I can move around a little. Besides, I'm loaded up on painkillers so I can't feel anything anyway. Stop being a mother hen."

Her dig at me erases some of my worry and we both laugh. Farm humor. Of course she would go there. It's good to hear her laughing. The sound calms me as I sit back down and gives me hope that she can overcome this obstacle that has been placed so unfairly in front of her.

As our laughter subsides, an awkward silence replaces it. She smiles shyly and avoids my stare while smoothing out her sheets. I know that she wants to ask me about my interview, but she doesn't want to seem nosy or pushy.

Instead she asks nervously, "So where were you? Are you okay?" Subtlety has never been Tara's strong suit. I can see right through her. She's not the only one who is good at reading people. She may know me inside and out, but it goes both ways. She is an open book and has never been very good at hiding her emotions.

This is the moment I've been dreading since I left my interview. My heart starts pounding loudly again and I rub my sweaty palms on my jeans. Trying to decide how to tell her, I lean back in my chair as casually as I can. Hoping to hide my nerves, I say in a knowing tone, "It's okay Tara, you can ask me." Her eyes shoot up, then away.

She shrugs her shoulders, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Ask you what? I just want to know how you're doing," she says, trying to be nonchalant. Liar, liar pants on fire, I call her out in my head, but I decide to go with it. If she wants to play hard to get, let's see how long she lasts.

"Oh, I'm fine. I was just with Zach at Sammy's studio. We spent a couple of hours cleaning up the space and working on our hip hop moves. He's not bad-"

"He can't be any worse than me," she blurts out, cutting me off. After a beat, she adds, "So... that's it? Nothing else?"

I can tell she's trying to trick me into giving up my news, but I'm not biting. I want her to ask me, to say the words. I can tell she's starting to crack, but she's fighting it. She wants to win this game just as badly as I do. She's stronger than most people give her credit for, but I can take her. I'm just as stubborn as she is and watching her squirm is too much fun.

"No that's about it. Oh, actually, there is one other thing," I tease and a look of excitement spreads across her face.

"What is it?" I have to bite my cheek so I won't laugh. She's practically drooling.

"Zach told me to say hi and that he hopes to see you soon."

And just like that, her smile vanishes and she murmurs sullenly, "Oh that's nice of him. Tell him I say thanks."

We sit there for a few more minutes in silence. She looks at me, I look at her. The tension is thick but I keep calm because I know it won't be long now.

Sure enough, she takes a deep breath in, rolls her eyes and says in exasperation, "Oh for heaven's sake Christian! Just tell me already!"

Yes! I cheer triumphantly in my head. Gotcha! She is a mess and I can't help but revel in my victory just a little. "Tell you what Training Bra?" I ask, putting on the best innocent face I can manage. It doesn't work because she reaches over, slaps my arm.

"Don't give me that fake innocent look Christian Reed! You know what I mean! Did you get a contract or not?" Her piercing green eyes blaze into mine and I'm so nervous that it's hard for me to breathe. This is really it. I am all out of excuses. I've stalled long enough. Now I have to just man-up and tell her.

Not knowing what to say or how to say it, I silently reach down into my bag like I did with Zach, grab my contract and pull it out, placing it in her lap. She inhales sharply, takes my hand in hers and uses the other to flip to the page with my name on it, tracing over the print with her fingers.

"I knew it. I knew you would get a contract." Her voice is soft and low, but I can hear her certainty. When she looks at me, there are tears in her eyes. "I'm so proud of you Christian! This is amazing!" She continues to flip through the pages excitedly, but when she gets to the last page, her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Here it comes.

"Wait, why haven't you signed it yet?" She tries not to sound judgmental but I can hear the edge in her voice.

What do I do? No matter how much I've prepared myself for this moment, she's not going to take it well. I just need a little more time! I throw on my signature smirk and roll my eyes in playful exasperation.

"I just got it today Training Bra! Give me some time to let it sink in!" She grins sheepishly, embarrassed by her boldness, and her cheeks redden again.

"Oh, right. Sorry." She laughs at first, then suddenly her smile fades and is replaced by a more serious look. "But you are going to sign it, right? Once you've had a chance to enjoy it a little more." She wants to be supportive but I can tell she isn't convinced. She's done it again. She's seen right through me and her anxious stare makes me wish I could disappear, but I guess it's now or never.

I tighten my hold on her hand, breathe in deeply, look her straight in the eye and say gently, "Look, Tara, the last couple of weeks have been so crazy. With classes, auditions... your accident... there hasn't been much time to think about things. It's like we've simply been going through the motions; blindly following some sort of pre-determined path with no way of knowing how everything would work out."

I stop, unsure of what to say next. She eyes me uncertainly, and I feel as though my heart will explode out of my chest. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I tentatively say, "I thought the company was what I wanted, but it's not. I thought getting a contract would solve all my problems, but I was wrong. I wanted it for all the wrong reasons. I wanted it for my mom, to live up to all the expectations she had for me, to make up for causing so much trouble when I was a kid. I wanted it for Sammy. He fought so hard for me during first year and was always there for me. I didn't want to let him down. And I wanted it for you. I wanted you to be proud of me, to show you that I had changed, that I deserved you. I spent so much time at the academy wasting all the chances I had and I thought that getting a contract would prove that I had become a better person. I was trying so hard to make everyone else happy that I wasn't thinking about what would make me happy-"

"And what is that Christian?" She cuts me off, letting go of my hand and I can see the anger burning in her eyes. "What's going to make you happy? That whole speech you gave before about doing whatever it takes to get in the company! If you didn't mean it, why bother saying it because now it just feels like you were lying to me this whole time!" The bitterness in her voice makes me cringe. She's struggling to keep calm, searching for the right thing to say.

"I know I can't tell you what to do. Of course I want you to be happy, but to throw away this huge opportunity without even thinking it through makes it hard to believe you've changed at all! It's the old Christian all over again! Running away from the hard stuff. Taking the easy way out by hiding and pushing your friends away, shutting everyone out! Do you have any idea what some of us would give to be in your shoes? To have what you have? All the others in our year who didn't get a contract, who worked so hard and came up short? Who sacrificed everything for their dream? Have you thought about them at all?"

Even though I expect her anger, it still catches me off-guard. It still hurts to hear everything she says. Because it's true. I drop my gaze as I try to process everything she has said. I know that she isn't really concerned for the other students in our year. She's talking about herself. Her dream. Her hard work. Her sacrifice. And she's right. Compared to her, I have done nothing to deserve a contract. I have done the bare minimum where she has given so much of herself. And she has certainly paid the price. Her lying in a hospital bed is proof of that. If I was in her shoes, if I had endured everything she had, who knows where I would be! She has every right to be upset! At me or anyone else. I know I have disappointed her, let her down yet again, but I have to make her see that what I'm choosing is the best for me. That this time, it's not about taking the easy way out or running away. It's about so much more. It's about finding my place in the world, doing something that is important to me. Taking pride in my abilities and enjoying life instead of just surviving it.

"Tara-"

"I think you should leave."

"What? Why?"

"Because I want to be alone. Is that okay with you?"

"Tara," I try again.

"Goodbye Christian."

I can tell she's holding back tears as she leans back against her pillow and avoids my stare. As upset as I knew she'd be, I thought she would at least hear me out. She hasn't even given me a chance to tell her about teaching in Sammy's studio, to show her how excited I am about finding something meaningful to do with my life.

All I want to do is shake her, yell at her, hold her in my arms and reassure her that it will be okay, that everything will work out. That just because she is in here, it doesn't mean her life is over. She has so much to look forward to and the fact that she can't see that makes me so angry! Not at her, but at the world, for playing this cruel trick on her. For getting her hopes up and then smashing them to pieces before she even got a chance to show what she is really capable of!

Keeping my eyes on her, I stand up from my chair, silently willing her to turn to me, to reconsider and beg me to stay. But she doesn't. She continues to stare at the wall and I know it's time to bow out gracefully. I know that nothing more can be said for now. She is too upset. I need to give her time to process our conversation, so I reluctantly take my contract and shove it back in my bag.

"I'm sorry Tara," I say softly, fighting tears of my own. I slowly make my way to the door, stopping at the last minute to look back at her. She is still looking at the wall, denying me yet again. I pull the door open and leave without another word.