"You saw my picture in a post office on a Most Wanted poster, and you've convinced yourself I'm a felon?"

"Come on ..."

Cody was laughing now too. "Or you've got it in your mind that I'm not Cody Coleman at all, but some evil twin, and now you're afraid to talk to me?"

Bailey laughed harder, so much that she slowed to catch her breath. How long had it been since she'd felt this way? Her feelings took her back and made her long for another time. She poked her elbow at him. "You're ridiculous."

"Actually ..." He gradually came to a stop and faced her. "I don't want to be too serious, Bailey, but really, for the life of me, I can't understand it."

They were at a part of the path that lay out in the open, no seclusion whatsoever. Even still, Bailey felt like they were the only two people on campus. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She'd avoided him this long, so maybe he was right. Maybe it was time she gave him an answer. "Really, Cody?" Her voice was soft, the laughter gone for her too. "You want the truth?"

"I do." He looked so good in his gray Colts sweatshirt and jeans. For a moment he looked like he might hug her, or touch her face. But instead he slipped his hands in his back pockets and waited. His eyes never left hers for a single second. "Why do you stay away from me? I miss you more each day."

"Because ..." She didn't want to cry, not now and not ever around him. But her heart didn't know the rules, and tears built up anyway. "I know you're sorry. But you cut me out of your life for nearly three months. Like you didn't care at all, and something happened to me during that time." She raised the zipper on her sweater, but the extra warmth didn't touch the chill inside her.

"What?" He studied her eyes, her expression. "What happened, Bailey?"

A hot tear slid down her cheek, and she caught it with her shoulder. "It's like I told you before. I still can't trust you. I almost deleted your texts last week too."

He couldn't have looked more hurt if she'd told him she'd forgotten his name. "Then you don't understand me at all."

"Of course I do. When you came back from war you told me you weren't interested in me as more than a friend. You wanted me to date Tim Reed, and that's what I'm doing." She wished she sounded more enthusiastic about the fact. "But you promised me I'd at least have your friendship. Only then ..." Another tear fell. "Then school started and you started going after my roommate." Her voice was slightly louder than before. "How did you think I was going to take that?"

He exhaled hard and rubbed the back of his neck. Without saying anything, he turned and stared at the empty campus lawn. After a few seconds he looked at her again, his eyes full of a hurt deeper than any she'd seen in him before. "You really think I could replace you with Andi Ellison?" The sound that came from him was more a frustrated cry than a laugh. "She's nothing like you."

"But that's what you did." Bailey pressed her knuckles beneath her eyes and willed herself to find control. "You became her friend instead of mine."

"Because you had Tim."

"Of course I had Tim." She caught her voice this time, and dropped it to a frustrated whisper. "You wanted me to. Wasn't that what you said? He had more in common with me, and he was better for me. All to distract me from the real issue. Why you weren't interested. But I didn't think you'd turn your back on me."

He looked completely defeated, and for a long time he only stared at her. Then finally he allowed a sad laugh and a shake of his head. "You'll never understand. You were already with Tim when I came home. You were happy, I could see that. It wouldn't have been cool to call you and text you all the time when you already had Tim."

She wanted to tell him that they weren't all that serious, even now, and that Tim's dreams were starting to feel very different from hers. But that would feel like a betrayal to Tim. She loved Tim, and however long they stayed together, she could never talk bad about him behind his back. Not now or ever. He'd done nothing to deserve that.

Instead she swallowed hard and lifted her eyes to the trees up ahead. New leaves showed on their branches, proof that once more winter wouldn't have the final say.

"Tim and I are still serious." She gave him a conflicted look. "So why the effort these past few months, Cody? Why the texting and calling?"

"Because G.o.d made it clear to me that I was an idiot. I never should've backed off just because of Tim. I wasn't a threat to him, and by backing off I only confused you." He looked intently at her, past the surface and straight to her soul. "I never stopped thinking about you."

"So that's it, huh? You want to be my friend."

"Exactly." His eyes gradually took on the light they'd lost in the heat of their discussion. "Because really, Bailey, I don't have the plague. I promise you."

Her cheeks were dry, and she laughed even though she hadn't intended to. Maybe things hadn't changed as much between them as she'd thought. Not if he could still make her laugh at will. "Brat." She kicked at his feet, then paused for a long while, lost in his eyes. "So you're saying I can trust you this time, that you'll be a real friend."

"As long as Tim doesn't care."

"He doesn't." Her answer came quickly. "He trusts me."

The joy in Cody's eyes was enough to make her laugh again, and once she started, he joined in. "You're not worried I'm an evil twin?"

"A little. But I'll stop erasing your messages." They started walking once more and she felt her eyes dance as she gave him a side glance. "How would that be?"

"Wow. I feel like the luckiest guy on campus." He leaned his head back and shouted. "Bailey Flanigan's going to stop deleting my messages!" He took a long breath and grinned at her. "Definitely the luckiest guy."

She kept laughing. "Shhh. People will wonder."

"Yeah, well, that's not always a bad thing." His laugh fell to a quiet chuckle. They were almost back at her dorm. "Now here's what'll happen. You'll go into your dorm and put away your backpack and before you can even think about washing your face you'll get a text message." He held out his elbow and touched it lightly to hers. "It'll be from me, and then ... instead of erasing it or ignoring it or banning it from your phone the way you're used to doing, you'll sit down on the edge of your bed and text me back."

They were at her dorm now, and they stopped at the bottom of the steps. "That's what's going to happen?"

"Yes." His eyes glimmered. "Okay?"

"Mm-hmm." She lowered her chin, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess I've been sort of rude."

"No, no." He punctuated the night air with his forefinger. "The plague can be very contagious, and you had to look out for your health."

She allowed herself to get serious one more time. "Not for my health. For my heart. In my book, friends don't just stop talking to each other."

A long breath slid between his lips. "I know. It was my fault. I'm asking you again to forgive me, Bailey. So we can try one more time."

"Okay." Her heart hung on every word he said. "I forgive you." They were standing so close she could feel the warmth from his body. "And I need you to forgive me too."

He tapped his foot against hers. "For what?"

"For not talking about this with you sooner."

This time they needed no words. Slowly Cody wrapped his arms around her. The hug lasted a long time, and Bailey wished it would've gone on longer. Because against all the odds, she and Cody had finally done the impossible.

They'd found their way back to each other.

They whispered good-byes, and when Bailey was inside her dorm, before she had time to wash her face, her phone alerted her to a text message. She smiled and picked it up.

I'M TRYING TO FEEL THE GROUND BENEATH ME, BUT IT ISN'T EASY.

Bailey grinned and texted back her answer. ME TOO.

ACTUALLY, I'M THANKING G.o.d WITH EVERY STEP BECAUSE I WASN'T SURE WE'D EVER HAVE THIS AGAIN, AND NOW WE DO.

MORE THAN THAT, she tapped out her response, WE ALWAYS WILL.

It was the one thought that kept her company as she fell asleep. She and Cody had found their way back to each other, back to the friendship they'd almost lost. No matter what Andi was out doing tonight, or how her feelings for Tim were shifting, that was all that mattered.

She had Cody again, and all was right with the world.

Twenty-Two.

ANDI WAS GLAD THE SPRING SHOW WAS OVER. She'd received much praise for her role as Maid Marian, but deep inside she knew she could've done better. Her focus was off - the way it had been off since she and Taz began spending time together. For the past month, ever since they'd shot the first scenes of Taz's movie, the two of them had been nearly inseparable. When they weren't together, they were texting or talking on the phone.

Taz told her she was his kindred spirit, his soul mate. In the past words like that would've seemed cliche or trite, but with Taz they took on new meaning, the way all of life did with him.

"What is it with this Taz guy?" Bailey asked every few days. "Come on, Andi. Be honest."

But Andi would only smile and shrug. "He's nice. We're not dating or anything." She was telling the truth, even if she was purposefully evasive. "Just getting to know each other."

Even so, Taz had become an obsession. Andi was grateful she was a strong student and that her grades hadn't suffered. Because when she wasn't in cla.s.s, she was all about Taz.

I CAN FEEL US IN THE TREES, he'd told her yesterday over a text. NEW LIFE BURSTING THROUGH EVERY BRANCH AND PUSHING THROUGH OUR HEARTS AND SOULS. CAN YOU FEEL IT?

The crazy thing was she could. Even if she wasn't always sure exactly what he meant. With Taz she felt free and full of potential, not stuck in a box the way she'd felt before. Their talks never stalled in the bog of Christianity or the Bible or the existence of G.o.d - topics Andi had spent a lifetime exhausting. Instead she and Taz laughed and talked about the pulse of a person's soul and the beauty in a blade of gra.s.s. The topics were endless with Taz, and once in a while they even dreamed about the future.

Taz had been careful not to kiss her again. He'd wound up playing the role of her character's love interest, but the kiss they shared on screen was purely professional, art at its best. When they'd finished filming it, he let his eyes hold hers a few seconds more. "Definite chemistry," he said. And that was all - then or since then.

There were times when she wanted to beg him to kiss her the way she was dying to be kissed. Other times she wanted to scream at him, "Okay, so are you falling for me or what?"

But always the question seemed pushy or forced. "We are like wind and rain," he'd told her last week. "Dancing over the earth the way two people are supposed to dance." Another time he touched her cheek and whispered, "We enjoy each other - hearts, minds, and souls." His eyes shone with a mesmerizing depth. "One day, maybe, we will enjoy more than that."

In the past she'd feared a physical relationship with a guy. She had promised G.o.d, herself, and her parents she'd stay pure until she was married. So when guys made moves on her earlier this year, the attempts felt like an affront. Something to stay away from.

But everything was different with Taz. Each time they were together, her desire and curiosity grew. The more he seemed almost uninterested in kissing her, the more she wanted to be kissed. Her wanting him only added to the other heightened sensations she felt whenever Taz was around.

Andi tuned out her psych professor, clicked a b.u.t.ton on her phone, and smiled. Another text from him.

HEY, BEAUTIFUL, I NEED TO RESHOOT A FEW SCENES FOR THE MOVIE. I REALLY WANT AN A ON THIS THING, AND I'M NOT SURE THE STUFF WE DID IN THE BEGINNING IS STRONG ENOUGH.

Andi's mind raced.

THE BEDROOM SCENES?.

YES. I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT OVER TEXT. LET'S MEET AFTER YOUR LAST CLa.s.s TODAY.

She wasn't sure what he had in mind, but the idea of meeting him sounded wonderful. They had several places on campus where they often stole a few minutes together and she gave in to the dizzy way he made her feel. When cla.s.s was over, she met him on a hilly path overlooking an ancient chapel, one of the few religious buildings on campus. Andi tried not to think about how long it had been since she'd set foot in a church.

He took her hand in his, eased his fingers between hers, and led her to the top of the hill, to a bench set back from the path and shaded by two enormous maple trees. "Your skin feels good." His pace was slow so he could look at her as they walked. "Enchanting. Like everything about you." He slid his fingers deeper between hers. "Can you feel it?"

Kiss me, she wanted to scream. But instead she focused her attention on the place where their fingers connected. "Mmm." She smiled at him. "I can."

"People are meant to experience physical connection. You and I -" His smile touched the center of her soul. "- we're all about real love."

"We are." It was back. The dizzy lightheadedness that always came when Taz neared her. She swallowed and tried to clear her mind. What were they supposed to be talking about? "The movie," she said out loud. "You wanted to talk about the bedroom scenes?"

Taz seemed careful not to break the bond between them. His hand, his eyes, remained connected to hers. "What we have on screen is good. You're a talented actress, because you allow yourself the privilege of feeling. I watched the bedroom scenes ten times yesterday and I feel everything about your character. But I wonder something."

She reminded herself to breathe. "What?"

"The character is a very bad girl. And you, Andi ..." He let his eyes caress her for a moment. "You are very good. So innocent."

Andi wasn't sure where he was going.

"I was too careful when I wrote that scene, too worried that if I pushed too far, you'd run, you'd tell me no and I'd lose you as an actress." He ran his thumbs along the tops of her hands. "I'd lose all this."

Time seemed to stop, and with everything in her Andi wanted only to fall into his arms and kiss him, a kiss that would last half an hour or longer or forever, even. She blinked and tried to understand what he was getting at. "My character wasn't bad enough?"

"Not really." He furrowed his eyebrows, intent on his explanation. "She's a girl about to do the unthinkable. She'll model, sure. But she'd sell herself if that's what it takes for freedom." He didn't blink. "In that bedroom scene she's making a decision to run away and use her body as a means of survival." He angled his head, his tone thoughtful. "If I'm realistic and honest to the storyline, the character wouldn't stop at her bra. She would take off everything standing in the way of her old self and her body. So that she could fully realize the power of her nakedness."

Why hadn't Andi thought of that? Of course her character wouldn't have stopped at her bra. She wouldn't have been afraid to completely strip in front of a mirror. She would've taken everything off and studied herself, aware that from that point on she would use her body to rescue herself from her parents' control and captivity. "So, you want to reshoot that part?"

"I do." His look implored her to understand. "Like I said, I should've written the script that way from the beginning. But I didn't want to ask you to do anything you'd be uncomfortable with." He paused. "I wrote the script for you, Andi."

She tried to remember who she'd been back then, how she might've reacted if there'd been full nudity in the original screenplay. Taz was right. She would've run from the idea, turned him down flat. Now, though, a strange excitement began working through her and she practically buzzed with the thrill of redoing the scene. The film demanded honesty, and nudity was as honest as a person could get. She didn't need to fear her body. Taz had taught her that. He saw the body as art, which meant Andi had a pretty good idea he would be particularly taken with hers.

"When can we film it?"

"This afternoon, if that works for you." Taz was always gentle, never forcing anything. He cared about her as a person, the beauty of her from the inside out, as he'd often told her.

They made a plan, and Taz checked his phone calendar. "I have to go. Do me a favor." His voice deepened, his head near hers, the two of them swimming in a private sea of feelings and emotions. "Until then, be the character. Be the girl trying to break free and find independence from her controlling parents. I expect what you'll give me on film today will be some of your strongest work yet."

He didn't kiss her, but he didn't have to. His presence left a physical impression on her, and as she walked to the library, it was several minutes before her heartbeat returned to normal. "Be the character," she told herself. And in her mind she allowed a deep and powerful resentment to build against her parents. How dare they tell her what to do and how to handle her life? They didn't understand art or real love or the desires of a young girl like herself. Their old-fashioned views would only keep her from experiencing life and emotion. It was time she broke free, whatever way she knew how.

She played the thoughts over and over in her mind, allowing herself to freefall into the psyche of the character. But as she did, she could feel the lines blur between fiction and reality. Her life wasn't much different from that of the character's, was it? Her father had called earlier, and all he'd done was ask questions. Who was she seeing? What was Taz's background? Was the guy a Christian? Maybe she should get more involved in Campus Crusade or a local church. She hung up after ten minutes, exhausted.

She walked faster. "Be the character ... Be the character." How dare they tell her what to do, and how to handle her life ... Their old-fashioned views would only keep her from experiencing life and emotion. It was time she ... How dare they ...

Over and over and over again she immersed herself in the character. By the time she finished with the library and walked back to her dorm, she could no longer tell for sure who she was talking about - the character in Taz's film or herself.

She met up with Taz in the same cla.s.sroom fifteen minutes earlier than he'd requested. This time they were the only people in the room, and Taz explained that he'd operate the camera. So she'd have privacy. She could hardly wait to reshoot the scene, to show him that she was capable of using her body, capable of cutting-edge acting. He went over the blocking, the timing of the scene, and the feel of it. The first part would be the same as before, but as she stared at herself in her bra, the idea would take root in her heart and then filter through her eyes. Why wear a bra? She might have to dance topless or strip to make money. She couldn't find the true power of her body with a bra in the way.

"The scene will be more shadowy than last time. Better to show curves and silhouettes than too much nakedness," Taz told her. Even here he was nothing but professional, caring only for the integrity of the film. "You're okay with this?"

Andi didn't want to sound overly anxious, but with all the buildup throughout the day, she could hardly wait to shoot the scene. "Yes." She felt her heart beating hard against her chest. "I think you're right. The honesty of the film demands it."

He smiled, grateful for her understanding and proud of her at the same time. "Let's get going."

They ran the scene twice through to the place where she was supposed to take off her bra, and each time he cut it there. "More emotion, Andi. More anger and defiance." His voice was smooth against her soul, leading her, guiding her. "Let go of everything you've ever held onto or believed. Here there is only the character and her emotions. Let's try it again."

Finally, on the fourth time, when she reached the climactic moment, she was no longer Andi Ellison, missionary daughter. She was the character, body and soul. The emotions came like springs of muddied water, pushing through her hands and fingers, emanating from her eyes. In the distance, she thought she heard Taz's breathing change, faster maybe, more intense. Good. Let him see what she could do, what she had to offer. Slowly, and with raw defiance, she unhooked her bra and one at a time, she eased the shoulder straps down. Then with little effort, she let the bra fall to the floor.

Taz had told her the truth: the lighting was dark and shadowy. But now that she had done it - now that she was naked from the waist up - she had the strangest compulsion to keep going, to take the rest of her clothes off too. But Taz hadn't asked for that, not yet, anyway. She was still the character, still a living breathing creation of Taz's imagination. So instead she turned slowly one way and then the other, admiring herself in the mirror, imagining how she would use her body as a key to freedom.

Taz let her go, let the character take on a life of its own, acting from the organic place of character embodiment, as Taz called it. Finally, after a minute or so, he called out, "Cut!" and he was at her side. "That was beautiful. I believed every second." His eyes were wide with excitement, his breathing still faster than usual. "I could feel you, Andi. You're so very talented."