Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 15

On New Year's Eve, while everyone else is descending on Times Square and enjoying their last few hours of freedom, Cassie books a ticket to see the 8pm screening of Les Miserables at an obscure Arts Theatre across town. She knows the film's bound to fall short of the stage production, but at least it offers a reprieve from the saccharine shit that's been clogging up the airwaves over Christmas. If she's lucky, the place will be deserted, and she can brood in peace.

After getting showered, she throws on a new pair of jeans and a thick woollen sweater, adding a scarf and gloves to ward off the cold. The subway's so rammed with exuberant idiots, it's almost enough to make her consider turning around and heading home, but she grits her teeth and endures the jostling elbows and drunken propositions, wondering what the hell these people have to be so happy about.

Just like she expected, Cassie walks into an empty theatre and has her pick of seats. She opts for the back row, and sits centre stage, drumming her fingers impatiently against the arm rest as she waits for the assortment of mind-numbing trailers to play out. Her attention's momentarily diverted by the arrival of a large group, and she sighs when their high-spirited voices cut through the quietude.

Then she hears a familiar laugh, and freezes in a tableau of dismay, because there's no way – no fucking way - that obnoxious braying belongs to who she thinks it does. Fate can't possibly be that cruel.

Cassie squints into the dim lighting, and nearly breaks out in hives when her worst fears are confirmed. Schwimmer's back from her holiday and standing no more than twenty feet away from her. Even better still, she has an entourage, and Cassie doesn't need a crystal ball to determine that the two men standing alongside her are her fathers - she can tell just by the size of their noses. The kid from the showcase is there, too – Kurt, if she remembers rightly – and then there's a bald guy who looks like he's been kidnapped from the lumberjack yard and coerced into coming along.

Cassie hunches down in her seat and pulls her scarf up around her ears, praying that she goes unnoticed, but her heart sinks when Twinkle Toes clocks her from across the room.

She hears a faint, "Hey, isn't that...?" and then suddenly Schwimmer's staring straight at her, looking every bit as stunned as Cassie feels.

"Miss July?" Rachel ventures in evident disbelief, and when Rachel's fathers turn to regard her in full Mother Bear mode, Cassie considers vaulting over the row of seats in front of her and sprinting towards the exit. She offers Rachel a half-hearted wave, and resists the urge to groan when Schwimmer jogs up the stairwell to join her. To her horror, the others follow suit, ignoring the sea of empty seats in front of them in favour of heading towards the back row.

Making sure Schwimmer's parents are still out of ear-shot, Cassie heaves a long-suffering sigh.

"Schwimmer," she drawls, regarding Rachel with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, "We really have to stop meeting like this." She lowers her voice to a harsh whisper. "You're starting to give off that whole Glenn-Close-in-'Fatal Attraction' vibe."

"I'm sorry; I never saw that movie," Rachel informs her innocently, "It was released before I was born."

Cassie narrows her eyes, because she knows damn well that Schwimmer's making less-than-favourable intimations about her age.

"Are your Dads going to cold-clock me with that umbrella?" she mutters, and Rachel bursts out laughing.

"Well, your favourite pastime is being mean to me, and they're very protective," she says thoughtfully, but when she sees the anxious expression on Cassie's face, her laughter starts anew. "But don't worry, I haven't told them about us."