Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 13

Three days later, the throbbing in Rachel's ankle has given way to the occasional twinge, and she persuades Brody to hand her the spare keys to the studio, determined to get in some more practice before she leaves for the Caribbean.

She can't afford to fall behind, and Kurt's getting sick of her clattering around their apartment. She waits until 10pm, knowing the East Wing will be deserted, and then hurries through the empty corridors, which seem eerie now that they're barely illuminated by the dismal campus lighting.

She rounds the corner and then stops in her tracks, breaking out in a cold sweat when she hears the faint strains of music emanating from the studio. For a second, she considers turning around and running in the opposite direction, but the sound of Cassandra's voice draws her closer, like some kind of Siren's Song. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she edges open the door, until the crack is barely big enough for her to peep through.

"I play a good game, but not as good as you

I can be a little cold, but you can be so cruel

I'm not made of brick, I'm not made of stone

But I had you fooled enough to take me on."

Rachel's breath hitches as she listens to her teacher singing the unfamiliar lyrics, in a tone that's melodic, but achingly raw at the same time. There's something about the song that instantly resonates with her, but Cassandra's captivating performance intensifies the impact.

Miss July moves differently when there isn't an audience around to watch her; she seems less ostentatious and more exposed. She's not putting on a show, she's just breathing life into the music, embodying the lyrics in every agile twist and poignant turn of her body.

Rachel knows she should walk away right now, because her heart's starting to swell like it does when she's watching Barbra Streisand in 'The Way We Were,' and she doesn't want to associate those kinds of emotions with Cassandra July. She doesn't want to feel anything for this infuriating, spiteful, ridiculously attractive woman.

"See I bleed and I bruise, oh, but what's it to you
I'm only human on the inside
And if looks could deceive,
Make it hard to believe
I'm only human on the inside
I crash and I burn, maybe some day you'll learn
I'm only human on the inside
I stumble and fall, baby, under it all
I'm only human on the inside."

Cassandra's voice is raspy now, like she's fending off a world of pain, and Rachel swallows the lump in her throat as she watches her teacher sink to her knees in defeat. She moves to close the door, because this is starting to feel uncomfortably voyeuristic, but then Miss July's back stiffens and she whirls around, squinting into the darkness at the back of the room.

"Who's there?" she demands, grabbing the remote for the stereo, and Rachel freezes, rooted to the spot.

Slowly, reluctantly, she opens the door, because she knows that if she runs, Cassandra won't think twice about hunting her down. For a moment, Cassandra just stares at her, and she looks exactly like Rachel felt in that restroom; like she's been caught doing something that no-one was ever meant to bear witness to. Then her face turns to stone.

"So you're stalking me now, Schwimmer?" she demands, and Rachel shakes her head violently.

"No! I didn't think anyone would be here. I just wanted to go over what we learned this week, now that my ankle's..." Seeing Cassandra's less-than-amused expression, Rachel realises that she's babbling, and ducks her head. "I'm sorry. I'll go."

"Stay," Cassandra counters, crossing the room to remove her CD from the stereo. "God knows, you need the practice more than I do." She throws Rachel a cursory glance. "Just make sure you lock up before you leave."