Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 17

When the countdown to midnight finally begins, Rachel jumps up and down, squealing over the din of the crowd in Times Square. She's spent the past fifteen minutes talking non-stop, raving about how amazing it is to be here, and Cassie wishes she could share her enthusiasm. It's been a long time since she's looked at this city with a sense of wide-eyed wonderment, and as much as she tries to feed off the crowd's energy, she's just not feeling it.

When the clock finally strikes twelve, Rachel launches herself into her Dads' arms, and Kurt tearfully reaches for his father.

Cassie hangs back, watching everyone around her hugging and kissing their loved ones. A couple of years ago, she might have felt envious. Now, she just feels alone, and the rousing chorus of Auld Lang Syne only succeeds in rubbing salt into the wound. Still, she tells herself, it could be worse. She could be Fantine.

"This city chews people up and spits them back out again," LeRoy observes quietly, startling Cassie out of her melancholy reverie. She nods wordlessly, hastily blinking back her tears.

"Promise me you won't let that happen to my daughter," he says, with an intensity that makes Cassie squirm. "Promise me you'll take care of her."

She shakes her head, scuffing her shoe against the sidewalk. "I'm the last person in the world you should be asking to do that," she admits, with a bitter edge to her tone. "I can't even take care of myself. And I'm... I'm not a very nice person. I eat kids like Rachel for breakfast," she informs him, but he squeezes her shoulder, offering her a kind smile.

"Well, she seems to like you anyway."

As if to illustrate his point, Schwimmer comes bouncing over to her.

"I'm going to hug you now, OK?" she announces, tentatively wrapping her arms around Cassie's waist. It feels awkward at first, and Cassie doesn't know where to put her hands, but eventually, she relaxes into the embrace, holding Schwimmer tightly against her.

"Happy New Year," Rachel murmurs into the crook of her neck, running her hands over the expanse of Cassie's back. Cassie closes her eyes, clinging to her convulsively.

"Happy New Year," Cassie whispers into her hair, cradling Schwimmer's head against her shoulder. When Rachel's arms tighten around her waist, she dares to hope that - this time - maybe it might be.

There's nothing Cassie hates more than being forced to attend one of Carmen's "inspirational" assemblies. New Year, new start, new opportunities... blah, blah, blah. She didn't even buy this spiel when she was an idealistic freshman herself, and now it's an effort to sit through the platitudes without heckling. Schwimmer seems to be lapping it up, though - she looks like one of those nodding dogs that cab drivers have on their dashboards, eagerly expressing her agreement with everything Carmen says. Not that Cassie's making a habit of watching her from afar, or anything.

"Some of you have already made huge inroads since you've been here," Carmen says, and she favours Rachel with a benevolent smile. Cassie knows that look all too well. She used to be on the receiving end of it herself. She's pretty sure she didn't react by puffing out her chest and preening her hair, though.

Schwimmer's simpering smile used to make her skin crawl, but now Cassie can't help but wonder what goes on inside that pretty little head of hers. Schwimmer's inflated self-esteem and obnoxious sense of entitlement have always rubbed her up the wrong way – Cassie knew she had her hands full as soon as Rachel informed her, "I'm gonna keep getting better until I'm the best you've ever seen" and actually sounded like she meant it - but at the same time, it's painfully obvious that Schwimmer's a people-pleaser who wants to be revered by her teachers and adored by her peers. Her desperate need for approval is going to be her downfall - she needs to figure out that there's no happy medium; either you're the best at what you do and everyone hates you for it, or you're a sheep who's destined for the chorus line.