I'd got it all wrong. My subconscious knew what was up, but I'd been ignoring it. My theories had all been so farfetched and loosely based. How did I not see it earlier? I couldn't to accept the truth that had been right in front of me the whole time. So I'd over-thought things until I found a vaguely plausible solution.

Phil was addicted to cocaine, and had been since Jamie died.

It made sense. The facts clicked into place with an undeniable sense of certainty. Driven mad with guilt and loneliness in a new college with no friends, he turned to drugs. And, when finally it seemed he had someone again and didn't need them anymore, he went to meet his dealer Jakob – only this time it was to tell him he was giving up.

Jakob had never been intending to sell to Phil that day, he was already so through with coke. So instead, he asked Phil if he would help him. But Phil said no, because of me. He was staying clean for me. Jakob died because of me. Not Phil.

But hadn't I just proven I wasn't good enough for Phil? Hadn't he just broken up with me? What if he went back to it, found another dealer... He was hurting. More than I could possibly imagine. I kneaded my face with my knuckles. I'd never heard him cry like that before, but I bet he did when Jamie died, when he had to go into school and face the stares, when he took his first hit...

I tugged my fingers through my hair so viciously it brought tears to my eyes, but I was glad. I deserved it. The bus stopped. I got off. I decided to do what I always do. Avoidance, if only for an hour.

I stumbled to the dance studio blinking back tears.

Today there was no time for technique, I needed to move.

My head cleared as the music started. Now was not a time for thinking.

*

You're evil. I screamed to myself as I pushed my body high into the air, the twist of guilt materializing as a turn mid-air, my spine contorting as I contracted at the core. I landed heavily but I didn't feel any pain, pushing off almost immediately from the floor into another run. Phil's tears. I span on the spot, falling and crumpling at the knees to roll. Guilt made me jump and twist, trying to break free. Pain made me turn and fall.

Fear contracted every muscle in my body.

Hatred pushed me on with a vicious anger. I couldn't have slowed if I tried.

As each emotion gave way in turn to exhaustion, Miss Jodie turned the music off.

"Better?" She asked, surveying me with a scrutinizing frown.

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

"Please let me know if you feel like that again in advance, so I can bring a camera." She murmured as she held the door open for me.

My heart was pounding and I flopped completely limp onto the bench in the changing room. As I slung my bag weakly off the rail I reached automatically for my phone, pulling the straps of my leotard down over my shoulders as I tapped it awake.

4 Missed calls: Knuckles –DO NOT ANSWER!!

I froze. My head started to swim.

I didn't need this, not now. Not ever.

Panicked, I tossed my phone into my bag again and stripped, tugging on my jeans in a frenzy. I hadn't even made it to the changing room door before my phone was buzzing again. Quickly, I pressed to reject the call.

I was out onto the street, the chill night air sending shivers over my sweaty skin. I was fighting the compulsion to run, forcing my head to think instead. Clearly Knuckles wasn't going to just give up. I had two options: continue to ignore him, and wait for him to find me. Or, answer. See what he had to say. Listen to his threats and probably shit myself.

If I left it, he would find me as soon as I went into college. And if I didn't go into classes he still knew where I lived. And then I'd be constantly terrified – permanently on edge.

If I answered, I'd have to listen to whatever he had to say. Both options filled me with dread.

I was so tired and my body was already aching. Adrenalin pushed me onwards, but I could feel my muscles protesting and my legs collapsing underneath me.

As my phone started vibrating furiously once more, I made a snap decision. The green answer button seemed so innocent, what could he possibly say that would hurt me enough to justify the dread of not knowing? I was about to find out.

"Hello." I whispered.

"Finally." His growl had an undertone of pure malice such as I'd never heard before. I sank onto a park bench, hiding my face in my hands as I waited for him to speak.

"You're dead, ballet boy. You and your pretty little boyfriend. You're so fucking dead. I'm going to kill you. And I'm going to make it slow and painful. I promise. And I never let people down, never. So you have two choices. Come to me, and maybe I'll let you live. Or you can mark my words I'll come to you. You have twenty four hours."

My hands were so clammy I was struggling to keep a grip on the phone.

"Wait!" I yelped.

I heard him take in a breath, clearly peeved he hadn't been able to get his dramatic hang up. "What?"

"Why? I don't understand? Why now? Why me?"

"You know why. You know exactly why. My mates are dead because of you. You're the fucker that went to the police – don't try and deny it, we all saw you walking off with the dickhead copper with the smarmy moustache. Because your crack addict boyfriend told you all his little secrets. Twenty four hours, Dancer Dan. Think you know pain? Twenty four hours." A heavy breath. "You never did ask how I got my nickname. I guess you'll find out pretty soon, one way or the other. I'll be waiting."

My phone went dead.

I ripped at my hair, letting my phone slip out of my fingers and onto my lap. Tears were splashing freely down my cheeks, and I hid my face from the dog walkers and shook.

Firstly, I was right about Phil. The thought sent a curl of pain through my gut. I couldn't picture it, sweet little Phil. Innocent. Kind, gentle Phil. Snorting cocaine in the woods. Something deep inside me screamed No.

What was I going to do? I couldn't go to Knuckles, surely? I couldn't literally walk right up to my fate. I couldn't do it. I should go to the police.

That won't work, Insisted a small voice in my head. They'll make you give a report, and then they'll send you home. And you can bet Knuckles will be waiting for you. And he sure as hell isn't going to be happy.

I tasted blood in my mouth and blinked in surprise. I hadn't even realised I was chewing my lip.

What were my priorities?

Phil, said the voice.

Not dying, said another.

Okay. That was a pretty simple list. I reckoned I might be able to manage it.

Number one: Don't let Phil get hurt. Obviously, I would go alone. I would have to find a way of persuading Knuckles not to go after Phil once he'd finished with me. Not dying was the key, his bravado aside I didn't think Knuckles would kill me. Not really. Sure, he would beat me up pretty bad, but he always knew where to draw the line. Jake and Gabes on the other hand... I pushed the thought out of my head. Knuckles was always the one to tell them where to stop, if he'd been there in the woods Jakob would probably still be alive.

I frowned, fisting the tears angrily away from my face. I needed to think carefully. I needed a plan, and it had to be foolproof. I had to remove Phil from the picture completely. But I couldn't tell anyone about it because they'd stop me from going.

I lifted my head to the darkened sky and closed my eyes. I'd stopped noticing the cold, and the night breeze whispered through the trees, washing an ethereal tranquillity over me.

It was clear what I had to do. There was no other choice.

Phil had already broken up with me, all I had to do was make sure there was no chance of him coming back. It shouldn't be too hard. He hated me. Then he wouldn't be my pretty little boyfriend anymore, I could tell Knuckles that.

And it would leave Phil free to make a new start, properly this time. With someone he deserved. PJ and Chris would help, presuming he'd told them about the cocaine thing by now. He'd be okay. It would take time, but he'd be okay.

Everyone's a little fucked up.

A single tear slipped down my cheek as I reached for my phone.

*

"Okay he's gone," Phil whispered as he turned to PJ and Chris with a deep breath. "There's a lot I have to tell you. And Dan, later. I just couldn't deal with it right now. I wasn't upset because of him. I made up the cheating thing because I couldn't think of what to say to explain my breakdown and why I didn't want to see Dan. I'm gonna have to go round his house tonight and make it up to him. He probably feels so shit. Oh, God. I'm a terrible person, I can't believe I did that. No one deserves that, especially not Dan. Maybe I'll buy him dinner or something. Oh God. I think I love him, honestly I do. Like real life love. Only I don't know how to say it, I never do. I try and slip it in but it doesn't sound enough because I'm too awkward to say it properly. I love him with all my heart and if anything happened to him... I think I might go crazy. Like before. You remember. Of course you do, you pulled me off the fucking bridge." Phil shuddered.

"Anyway. I'm off the point. I wasn't crying because of him. When I was sitting in the library, I got a text....."

*

"Hey Dan-"

I cut off Phil before he could tell me to go away.

"Don't hang up, please Phil. I- I don't know how to say this. You were wrong, what you said to them. I didn't cheat with Dani no, but I have cheated. And I'm sorry, because I know you'll be upset. But I'm not sorry for doing it. We had a good time and I enjoyed it. But-" My voice cracked and I fought to compose myself. "I guess all good things come to an end. I don't love you Phil. I never really did. I love this guy from my old school. I never stopped seeing him and I lied when I said I was a virgin, I just wanted the sex. Because you're fit but mostly because you were there. Sorry. And tell Chris and PJ I'm sorry too. Bye, Phil."

"I love you." I whispered, but only once I'd heard the disconnection tone.

I turned into the night, my face emotionless. As the wind blew fallen leaves into my hair, I pulled my hood over my head.