Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 19

All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand!"

Cassie hovers in the doorway of her studio, trying not to choke on her repressed laughter as she watches Schwimmer reciting 'Macbeth' in front of the full-length mirror, earnestly practising her facial expressions. Right now, she's looking almost comically verklempt, gazing forlornly at her hand. It's such a dire interpretation of the scene, it's almost enough to diffuse the rush of desire that washes over her when she first sets eyes on her student.

"Drama & Theatre Arts is down the hall, Schwimmer," Cassie reminds her hapless protégée, delighting in the way Rachel visibly jumps at her unexpected interruption, "Although it looks like you might have skipped a few classes already. Like the one where they taught you how to actually act."

At least Schwimmer has the grace to look embarrassed.

"Is it that bad?" she asks self-consciously, and Cassie sets down her gym bag, throwing Rachel a look that patently says, "yes."

"Let's just say; I don't think the Royal Shakespeare Company's gonna come calling any time soon," she concludes, and that's putting it diplomatically. She eyes Rachel sceptically. "Lady Macbeth? Really?"

"It's iconic," Rachel protests.

"It's clichéd. And you don't have the chops to pull it off." Seeing Schwimmer's defensive expression, Cassie laughs. "What, you think I'm being bitter and jealous again? I'm serious," she informs her resolutely. "You need a little life experience before you can do justice to a role like that."

Rachel still looks like she can't decide whether Cassie's offering her words of wisdom or a poisoned chalice, so Cassie holds out her hand.

"Give it to me," she says, beckoning for Schwimmer to hand over the script. "OK; now watch and learn."

Cassie takes a deep breath, gathering her composure, and then proceeds to recite the monologue herself. Schwimmer watches her as she paces agitatedly around the room, letting remorse war with ruthlessness as she vacillates between clarity and confusion. She delivers her lines distractedly, slowly starting to unravel, and tries to lend a sense of anguished humanity to a character that's mostly unsympathetic. By the time she's finished, Schwimmer's staring at her like she hung the moon and painted the stars.

"What?" Cassie demands, when the attention gets too much to bear.

"You know how they say: those who can; do, and those who can't; teach?" Rachel ventures, and Cassie instinctively bristles, until Schwimmer lays a hand on her forearm.

"You shouldn't be teaching, Cassandra," she says, softly, and Cassie has to turn away so Rachel won't see the tears that spring to her eyes. She's touched, and she doesn't know why, because it's not like Schwimmer's opinion even matters in the big scheme of things. She's just a clueless kid with a stupid crush. Cassie doesn't know how to acknowledge the compliment without sounding like a complete sap, though, so she opts to change the subject instead.

"You do realise that you're supposed to ask me before you commandeer my studio?" she informs Rachel, wryly.

"I know. I'm sorry," Schwimmer hastens to explain, "It's just... the mirror in our bathroom is really small, and the lighting's terrible - "

"And you just had to see yourself in all of your two-dimensional glory," Cassie concludes. She used to relish seeing the hurt expression on Schwimmer's face, but now it feels like she's kicking a puppy. A lovable, Labrador puppy.

"Wait here for a second," she informs Rachel, and she returns a few moments later with an anthology of female-centric monologues that was collecting dust on her bookshelf. "Take a look through these. I used them a couple of times for my audition pieces, and they might be a little more... age-appropriate."

"This is amazing, thank you!" Schwimmer exclaims, hugging the book to her chest. "I'll bring it back as soon as I'm done."

"Keep it," Cassie counters, with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "It's not like I'll ever need it again." She tries to keep her tone light, but fails miserably, and Schwimmer looks at her with an expression that's brimming with empathy.

"Anyway," Cassie hastily cuts in, blowing out a breath before Rachel can say anything, "Janet usually saves the monologues for summer. She must be feeling brave. Or maybe she's finally lost the plot."

"Oh, it's not for... I mean, she didn't..." Rachel wavers, looking like she's desperate to tell Cassie something, but then she seems to reconsider, clamping her mouth shut.

"Cat got your tongue, Schwimmer?" Cassie asks, raising an eyebrow, but Rachel shakes her head.

"No, it's nothing," she says, but she won't meet Cassie's gaze, and Cassie gets the distinct impression that she's being lied to. Her suspicions are only compounded when Schwimmer hastily makes her excuses, offering her a weak smile before she hot-foots it out of the room.