Apologies for the delay but hey it's an extra long chapter - be warned! Thanks as ever to Eyghon for proof reading and to Pebblez24 for your enthusiasm :)
Rachel's regrets began almost immediately on seeing the stricken look on Cassie's face as the cab pulled away from the kerb. Would it have hurt her to listen? Possibly. Probably. There was no pain-free way out of the situation she found herself in. Rachel's thoughts and emotions were in turmoil but she didn't really have time to second guess herself as the driver was making far too efficient progress back to her apartment block. She needed to steel herself for seeing a possibly, make that definitely, miffed Kurt. She dabbed at her eyes with a square of tissue to try to prevent her mascara from smudging. Maybe her remark to Cassie had been a bit harsh - she needed to wield the tissue again just at the thought. She needed to stop thinking about it else even Kurt would notice her distraction. Rachel took a few calming deep breaths. Then a few more, before straightening her shoulders and raising her chin. Just deal with the here and now and leave anything else until later - always time for regrets in the early hours of the morning when everything always seemed so much bleaker. Yet more calming breaths were necessary and the rarely used strategy of conjuring up mental images of fluffy kittens. It was a much more together Rachel who exited the cab ten minutes later.
Rachel slid the door of the apartment open although her extra cheery 'Hi I'm back' tailed off as the sight of the flowers Cassie had bought her immediately dominated her view. The beautiful blooms seemed to taunt her. Her reflexive gulp echoed loudly around the apartment. She didn't have time to gather her wits together before Kurt appeared half-smiling before her.
"Oh for goodness sake Rachel you've only been apart a few hours, surely Quinn's flowers haven't set you off already," he mock-scolded her as he gave her one of his light almost no contact hugs.
"I think it's hay fever," managed Rachel pulling herself together with a massive effort. It was just a bunch of flowers for goodness sake; she really needed to toughen up. Kurt's sceptical look told her all she needed to know about Kurt's opinion of her imaginary hayfever attack.
Stefan was in the apartment too and Rachel was aware of his careful gaze on her as Kurt flitted about - apparently getting ready to go out. He was living proof that men could in fact multi task as he combined getting ready with haranguing her. He managed to vocalise his disappointment and hurt about her just sneaking off without warning, about her letting him and Stefan down at the last minute for Callbacks – maybe in the future she'd be relegated to backing vocals only - and he wasn't even going to mention that it had been her turn to cook. Teeth cleaning temporarily silenced Kurt. Backing vocals? Oh well. Rachel resisted the urge to point out he had in fact managed to mention her missing her turn on the cooking rota as she really didn't want to endure the conversation on flat mate etiquette that would surely follow. As Kurt headed into his room with a possibly clashing necktie crisis, Stefan took the opportunity to approach Rachel as she stood by the fridge sipping a glass of water. Her 'I'm fine' facade was already begining to crumble.
"He doesn't mean it harshly," reassured Stefan. Alarmingly Rachel felt her eyes well up at just the mere hint of kindness.
"I know," she whispered back before Kurt appeared with a selection of neckties seeking their opinion. He managed to squeeze in an insult about definitely not choosing the one Rachel preferred. She didn't have the enthusiasm for the obligatory protest and could barely muster the energy for the required eye roll. 'Please go out in whatever necktie' she chanted repeatedly in her head.
"And," continued Kurt, pleased he could finally vent his frustrations on the cause of them, "you left me to cover for your absence on Friday. My day was ruined by constant inquiries about you and just when I thought it couldn't get any worse Ms July hauled me into her office and practically accused me of leaving you to die alone of meningitis - I mean what kind of person does she think I am?"
Rachel decided against investing energy puzzling out why meningitis came up. She wanted a blow by blow account of that conversation but now probably wasn't the right time.
"I didn't ask you to cover for me," she mumbled half-heartedly.
"Well I didn't, I told her you were off gallivanting with your," Kurt paused as he considered the wisdom of sharing with Rachel his actual words. Not only had he actually inadvertently outed Rachel, he'd done so to the least sensitive, most hostile anti-Rachel person ever, "friend." He finished weakly. God. He'd said girlfriend to Ms July. It probably wasn't possible for that woman to be any nastier to Rachel than she already was but if Ms July plumbed more depths of obnoxious bitchiness it would be his fault. Should he warn Rachel?
Rachel looked at Kurt's suddenly pale features and realised that what was unspoken was probably more important than what had been said. It hardly mattered now. She just wanted Kurt and Stefan to leave her alone.
"So how was New Haven?" asked Stefan to break the lengthy awkward silence that had followed Kurt's last remark.
"Fine," managed Rachel, keen to close the conversation down.
"Did you go anywhere interesting?" prompted Stefan surprised at Rachel's almost unheard of retreat into monosyllabic interactions.
"Or was Quinn too busy showing you her modern art?" smirked Kurt noting with satisfaction Rachel's apparent embarrassment and taking it as confirmation of his suspicions.
"So tell me," drawled Kurt with appropriately dramatic arm waving," is Quinn as wonderful in the bedroom as she is at everything else?"
"Kurt! " protested Rachel drawing on her last reserves of energy, "We're.."
"Just friends, yes I know and so don't believe" finished Kurt as he headed back to his room to adjust his necktie.
"We don't have to go out," said Stefan gently. Rachel had been uncharacteristically quiet and was looking decidedly fragile. Hard to imagine she was back from an extended weekend with a secret lover, there was none of that post euphoric exhausted but sated bliss, instead Rachel looked more like one did after a breakup.
"Please," managed Rachel fighting the urge to scream, "I just need some time on my own." Her weak attempt at a smile was unconvincing. "Really! I'm just very tired."
Kurt was back and had caught the end of what she'd said.
"Well that's what you get when you cross an athletic ex-celibate with a driven perfectionist," he teased settling for a knowing eyebrow raise to emphasise his point.
"Why thank you Kurt, no-one's ever called me athletic before," responded Rachel sweetly as she handed Stefan his coat and hurried him and Kurt towards the door sending them on their way with a forceful "Enjoy your evening."
Finally, finally the door closed and the sought after silence descended. Unusually Rachel didn't choose to play any music. She wasn't in the right frame of mind for her break up playlist with its stirring anthems about surviving and coming back stronger. She texted Quinn a brief message about being home safely and slowly it dawned on her that there were no attempted calls, texts or e-mails from Cassie since their encounter at the station. Rather than relief she felt hurt. Cassie was respecting her wishes she tried to tell herself as two large tears rolled down her cheeks; it felt more like vindication of the viewpoint that Cassie had in fact never really cared. It was definitely time for a strategic retreat to the shower.
It was in high school Rachel had learned the benefits of crying in the shower. Privacy, warmth, the immediate washing away of tears, along with the failsafe excuse of shampoo in the eye if one emerged looking a little red-eyed from all those tears. Her overprotective fathers had been the need for such a strategy. After a series of daily slushyings and her being adamant she didn't want them to go to the school to sort it out they'd said one more incident and she'd be transferring to Carmel High. The thought of being at the same school as "it's too late for me to be your mom" Shelby had at that point in time been more soul destroying than the prospect of yet more slushyings. So the next day, after her record breaking fourth slushying of the morning, she decided she needed to make a stand and involve a teacher. Maybe Mr Schue hadn't been the best choice of confidant but her choices had been limited and at least he wielded a slight hint of power over the main instigators of her slushyings. So she'd sat in his cold office in her sticky slushy-stained outfit as his unwelcome and rather patronising advice consisted solely of how she could fit in better and irritate her peers less. It was a tacit admittance that she in someway deserved what was happening to her, or that he at least approved. Her manners prevented her from leaving once his agenda became apparent so instead she politely sat it out until he ran out of ways of explaining how it was all her fault. It shouldn't have been a surprise, it wasn't as if he'd ever protected her in his class from the outrageous insults and name calling she was expected to endure. Yet it was still a bitter crushing disappointment. She had gone home desperately downcast and still somewhat sticky from the latest slushy attack. She'd had her first hour-long shower, learnt how to hide her pain and finally accepted the tough lesson that the only person you could rely on was yourself. Maybe she'd been beginning to forget that here in New York.
Cassie placed the newly purchased bottle of vodka on the kitchen table and took a seat to stare at it for a moment. She had been alcohol-free for a few months now but what was the point? She wanted to escape at least for a while from the pain she was feeling and vodka had always been her quickest route to oblivion. She'd resigned from her job, had an uncertain employment future ahead of her and the first person to break through her walls and make her feel anything had ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it - or at least would no longer talk to her. She couldn't help herself from thinking back to that tango, those e-mails, dancing in Rachel's apartment and their laughter-filled phone conversations. Cassie forced down a sob and then stormed around her kitchen looking for a glass. She dismissed the shot glasses in preference for a tumbler. A quick release from her memories was what she needed. Rachel needed protection from her? Pah. Cassie angrily cracked the seal on the vodka bottle. She needed protection from her more like. From those dark expressive eyes, those long tanned legs and from these intense feelings. She poured a half glass of vodka; her uneven movements caused the vodka to splash onto the table. Cassie swirled the liquid in her glass and briefly considered calling Paul before dismissing the idea. He'd only take Rachel's side and she just didn't need that at the moment. The glass was at her lips when her phone rang. She hesitated momentarily and then set the untouched vodka down on the table to check caller-id.
"Paul," she managed to croak out, "how are you and yours?"
"All fine," came the irritatingly cheery reply, "but more importantly, how are you?"
Cassie grunted a response that gave little away. Or maybe it gave everything away.
"You were always at your most despondent as a kid on Sunday evenings so I thought I'd just catch up with you. Wouldn't want you falling into the clutches of the demon drink again eh?" Paul continued brightly.
There was a strained pause before a far too sympathetic, "Oh Cassie."
"I haven't drunk anything," she managed defensively.
"Sounds like there's an unspoken 'yet' on the end of that." replied Paul. The comment just hung awkwardly in the air. She was an adult now, she made her own choices even if they were bad ones. She didn't need to justify herself to anyone.
"So has something else happened?" asked Paul gently. It was enough for Cassie's defensive shields to be breached and her floodgates to open. She updated Paul on recent events, vacillating between self-pity and anger but managing to keep her voice steady. Maybe she didn't need alcohol to vent and bemoan her bad luck generally and her unsuitability for Rachel in particular. Paul just listened, yet again offering no judgments. Cassie was reminded of the walk in the park where she'd eventually confessed to all that was going on - it felt like a lifetime ago.
"So any further pearls of wisdom to offer?" she asked a little bitterly, "perhaps you'd like to tell me how I've deserved all this."
"Cassie, you're my sister and I love you…" he started.
"But?" Cassie challenged. Really he just needed to cut to the chase and let her get back to self-medicating with vodka.
"But I'm not sure you can afford my amazing advice," Paul quipped.
The unexpected response had Cassie reluctantly smiling and her anger disappating.
"Not that amazing," she grumped, "your last suggestion of a neutral venue did me little good."
"Actually I think your comment about for her own protection sabotaged my suggestion. Oh and a free tip for the future, never ever claim you did something your girlfriend doesn't like for her own good, it's just never going to be a winning argument." Paul went for a light tone.
"Yeah well thanks for your perfect hindsight but Rachel was marching away from me and," Cassie sighed, "I just wanted her to talk to me. It doesn't really matter anymore anyway, Rachel's made it pretty clear we're over."
Paul hesitated and then dived in.
"I'm not sure she did. 'Never speak to me again', 'leave me alone' or 'stay away from me' are all clear messages. Needing protection from you is more a statement of how things are and an acknowledgement that she cares enough about you for what you do to hurt her." Paul expanded on his theme hoping he was right.
"But you were saying you wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to me again," accused Cassie. Did she dare hope Paul was right - was there some hope of being able to salvage the situation?
"Yes well ostensibly bullying someone who is trying to move on from a history of being bullied isn't exactly a great foundation to build a relationship on. I think it's healthy she chooses to protect herself rather than just turning the other cheek. Your problem is finding the opportunity to explain why things aren't as they appear on the surface."
"Made somewhat complicated by the fact she won't talk to me face to face or on the phone," moaned Cassie. Paul's advice of talk to her was hardly helpful, she knew she needed to do that but Rachel wasn't prepared to listen, "easier said than done unless you have any bright ideas on how I can make Rachel listen."
"She's still in your class isn't she?" prompted Paul.
Cassie's mind raced with possibilities. She couldn't believe her brother was suggesting this.
"You mean apologise and declare my feelings in front of the entire class?" Asked a somewhat stunned Cassie. She could do that if that was what it took to win Rachel back. Bugger all the secrecy and trying to protect her or Rachel from future gossip. She didn't have a reputation to protect. Desperate times called for desperate measures and all that. Perhaps the grand finale could be a raunchier version of Americano where she pulled Rachel up to join her in the dance. Suddenly the room felt rather hot.
"Well I wasn't thinking of anything quite that drastic or at least not yet," replied Paul, surprised his usually closed off defensive sister would even consider a public declaration of her feelings, "I was thinking of something slightly more subtle - what about subliminal messaging through the music you choose for your lessons?"
It was an interesting idea and far less of a threat to Rachel's future career than a teacher's confession of love. Cassie mulled it over.
"Is there a song called 'please just let me explain why I was such an insensitive idiot'?" added Paul.
"No" replied Cassie not really focussing on the conversation as she ran through songs in her head that might fit in with what she wanted or rather needed to say.
"Okay well I can hear the cogs turning from here. Maybe I need to leave you to your lesson preparation," Paul suggested. He hoped the idea was enough to keep Cassie away from alcohol for the rest of the evening.
"Thanks Paul," there was a pause as Cassie pulled her thoughts together before she added sincerely, "you're such a wonderfully supportive if occassionally annoying brother."
"Cassie I just want you to be happy because you deserve to be even if you struggle to believe that," It was a rare moment for them both, "Just promise me you'll think before you speak or act in the future" Paul finished off.
"Jerk," blurted Cassie.
"I think you'll find that's 'wonderfully supportive if occassionally annoying' jerk to you," replied Paul solemnly. Cassie was smiling as she put down the phone. It was time to scour her music library.
Rachel felt her ability to present herself as happy and cheerful drain away from her as the dance lesson loomed closer. It was hard to come to any conclusion other than the gloves were now off and Cassie would be picking on her mercilessly. Not that it could be any worse than before but it was just Rachel was in a more fragile state. She'd briefly considered skipping the lesson but quickly dismissed the idea. She needed to pass dance 101 and attendance was part of the criteria for successfully moving on. Surviving two more weeks of being the butt of Cassie's jokes and the focus of her ire couldn't be harder than the years of persistent targeting in high school. She just needed to put recent events down to one of those learning experiences that she'd be able to laugh about later – make that much later. Rachel was at the door of Cassie's room pulling all her reserves of inner strength together when Lydia suddenly put an arm around her shoulders.
"If Ms July starts on you we'll both walk out," reassured Lydia.
Rachel managed a weak smile back, "thanks Lydia that's a kind offer but don't jeopardise your position for me."
"Well after telling her she was mean and not a very nice person when she was horrible to you last time, I'm not sure there's much of a position for me to jeopardise," replied Lydia as they moved to place their bags by the window.
"That was kind of you Lydia but really you didn't need to," responded Rachel somewhat taken aback that a) Lydia would stand up for her and b) she lived to tell the tale.
"Of course I did," insisted Lydia, "I'm just sorry I didn't have the courage to speak in front of the whole class. Are you sure you're okay Rachel, you look a bit…"
Rachel cut off Lydia's thoughts on how she looked by a hasty, "Just tired."
The conversation ended there as Cassie called the class to order. Her gaze swept the faces of the students in front of her managing to avoid Rachel's. Her peripheral vision managed to take in Rachel's averted gaze and slightly slumped posture. She felt a bit better knowing she wasn't the only one suffering but also guilt at being responsible for all this unnecessary extra drama. Next to Rachel muffin-top was glaring at her with all the menace she could muster. Unfortunately given Lydia's predisposition to see the good in everyone and everything, there wasn't much menace to muster. A sudden thought struck Cassie that maybe Rachel had confided in MuffinTop and she was for a moment unsettled. Muffintop's menace faded quickly into an expression of concern in light of what she was reading from Cassie's face. Cassie abruptly pulled herself together. Fortune favoured the brave, carpe diem and other such stuff.
"Okay," Cassie sauntered to the front of the class using her swagger to disguise the fear racing through her veins, "with just two weeks left of my tutelage it's time to see whether you can apply what you've been taught. So this week I'm going to play you a tune at the start of the lesson and by the end individually, in pairs or even in groups you need to come up with an interpretative dance."
Various expressions of bewilderment met her pronouncement. No one was howling in outrage - so far so good.
"Right, choose who you're going to work with and let's get the show on the road," Cassie gave the class time to sort out their groups as she lined up the music. She called the class to order and played the song.
"David Gray, english singer, released this around 2000," Cassie allowed the song to play on a bit more, "pay attention to the interesting drum beat - that definitely needs to be picked up in your routine."
The song drew to a close, "Oh and it's called," Cassie paused to try and catch Rachel's eye but her gaze was on her hands,"'Please Forgive Me'."
It was now Cassie was relieved she'd given up on her late night search for the ideal song with the ideal lyrics settling instead for titles that would convey her message. Most apology songs were slow and rather dirgeful so she'd struggled to find anything with the right message that could be danced to. Not that it really mattered, It all seemed to be going wrong already with Rachel too wrapped up in whatever was going on in her head to notice the significance of the song choice or even that a song had been chosen. Lydia was guiding her to work in a group of four but Rachel came across as not really engaged in the task. Cassie frowned. It was early days yet she told herself as she allowed the class to divide up into groups and use the audio file she'd sent them. She needed to give the idea a few days to work before implementing her fall back plan of throwing herself into full confession mode in front of the class. It was a delicate balancing act; every day that passed made the likelihood of her heartfelt public confession being instantly followed up with a humiliating rejection more likely.
Cassie circulated around the groups and pairs impressed at some of the routines being pulled together and offering suggestions to the rather more staid groups. She studiously avoided making any comments directly to Rachel or even making any eye contact. To the casual observer it would look like Cassie was ignoring or blanking Rachel when in fact the opposite was true. She was hyper aware of the listlessness of Rachel's performance, her lack of contribution of ideas to the group and her inability to keep the sheen of tears away from her eyes for very long. Should she force the pace? Insist on Rachel staying back at the end? Press a tear-stained letter of explanation in her hand and not ler her leave until she read it – not that she'd actually committed one to paper yet? She was gradually aware of Lydia's inquisitive gaze on her. Instead of a scathing remark, Cassie settled for a self-deprecating smile instead then quickly moved on to another group.
Rachel had come to the lesson fully prepared for Cassie to unleash yet more abuse in her direction and possibly even up the level of humiliation. There was no reason for her to hold back now with her having so little time left at NYADA. So Rachel was unsettled by the reality of Cassie determinedly ignoring her. Once Rachel had found the courage to brave a glance in Cassie's direction she realised the woman could sweep the room with her gaze and not see her. At first she'd thought it was just all part of some build up to Cassie trying to catch her off balance – ignore her and then suddenly pounce but as the lesson wore on she realised that wasn't the case. Even her most wooden, least co-ordinated attempt at dancing failed to elicit a response from their usually hypercritical dance teacher. Things were worse than Rachel had imagined, as far as Cassie was concerned she had ceased to exist and that really hurt. There was no more entertainment to be had at her expense so Cassie had moved on. Logically Rachel knew she should be pleased but then why did she feel so depressed? There wasn't much longer until the end of the lesson. If she could survive this one the other lessons would become easier. She used what little energy she had to ensure she was the first student out of the door when the lesson finally ended. She didn't hear Cassie calling after her, hesitantly asking for a word as she was too focussed on holding herself together until she had the privacy of a bathroom stall for a quick sob.
Rachel's withdrawal into herself over the next few days was drastic enough even for Kurt to notice - okay so maybe Stefan had helped point him in the right direction. She was leaving the apartment even earlier in the morning than usual as if to avoid him, spending an inordinate amount of time in the shower in the evening and then retiring to her room 'tired'. To be fair she looked drained and somewhat exhausted but he couldn't figure out why with the amount of sleep she was allegedly having. He wasn't sure if she was eating properly as he hardly saw her and the one time he'd insisted she cooked dinner as it was her turn, she'd served up two plates of food for him and Stefan, claimed to have eaten earlier before disappearing off for yet another incredibly long shower. His admittedly rare attempts at conversation were met with a brittle beaming smile and short answers insisting things were 'fine' that closed down the interaction. Kurt was uncertain what to think, when Rachel suffered setbacks in the past she always bounced back more determined and focussed after a brief spell of crying but this was something entirely different. This quiet hermit like behaviour was outside the realms of his Rachel experiences. Kurt was debating whether he needed to call Quinn or not with his concerns, but then maybe Quinn was the problem? When Kurt rose excessively early that on yet another morning to find himself in an empty apartment the decision was made a showdown with Rachel was needed. If there was no change in Rachel's behaviour by that evening and if she continued to insist she was fine when she obviously wasn't, then he'd screw all his courage together and contact Quinn.
By Wednesday Lydia insisted, in a very unLydia like manner, that Rachel joined their usual group for lunch rather than sloping off to wherever it was she sloped off to. She wouldn't take no for an answer and Rachel wouldn't be excused until she'd obviously eaten something that Lydia considered sufficient to qualify as lunch. So currently Rachel was sat next to her, half half-heartedly chasing salad around her plate but managing to consume very little of it. Lydia had watched the vitality and life drain out of Rachel as the week progressed even as a less pronounced but similar malaise seemed to be affecting Ms July. Even today's upbeat number of 'I want you back' hadn't had either of them smiling. Rachel was mechanically stumbling her way through lessons hardly engaging at all as Ms July seemed to be retreating from interaction with them all as much as possible. The two things would be unrelated in her head if she hadn't noticed the look on Ms July's face as Rachel hurried for the exit after each lesson. It was hard to describe but a desperate hurt was what she'd finally decided on. She seemed to be the only person who noticed and it was such a fleeting look each time she could just be imagining it. Particulalry when you considered the huge amount of trashy romance stories she secretly read and the fact that Ms July's intense dislike of Rachel had never exactly been secret. In Lydia's head intense dislike always turned out to equal true love but with heated arguments on the way and the obligatory major misunderstanding before love triumphed over everything. She snorted inelegantly at the thought of trying to apply that scenario to Ms July and Rachel. So wrong on so many levels. Maybe sometimes intense dislike was just intense dislike.
Rachel's musings on whether cherry tomatoes had evolved into spheres in order to aid their survival as she chased one with a fork around her plate was interrupted by the placing of a pad of paper and a pot of money in front of her.
"Come on Rachel it isn't that hard, predict tomorrow's song, a dollar a guess, no repetitions. Right song wins the kitty, rollover to Friday if necessary and if still no winner proceeds to charity," Julian rattled through his standard explanation.
"Song for what?" asked Rachel.
"Dance 101," Julian continued impatiently with his trademark eyeroll, "Surely you've noticed a theme?"
Rachel's bewildered expression indicated she hadn't.
"Obviously," continued Julian patronisingly, "CarCrash is straight out of a relationship break-up and exorcising her demons through therapeutic dance."
"Or she has the most god awful collection of music on her i-pod and the shuffle function hates us," suggested Tyrone.
"'Please forgive me on Monday'," Julian counted off his first finger," Tuesday was Pat Benatar's…"
"We belong, we belong, we belong together," warbled Tyrone in a rather scarily accurate imitation of Ms Benatar as Michael thumped the table to imitate the drumbeat from the track. For a moment Rachel thought the entire table, if not the entire cafeteria, was going to burst into song and dance in a Fame like manner before reality quickly intruded.
"Then there was today's upbeat 'I want you back'. To be honest I was worried it'd be Mariah Carey's without you - never been so glad to be wrong," added Julian.
"I'm sure Ms July had tears in her eyes on the 'oh baby give me one more chance, to show you that I love you'" Tyrone used the opportunity to burst into song yet again.
"And there was me thinking she'd had her tearducts soldered shut to avoid expressions of emotion," muttered Tamara somewhat ungraciously.
"More likely the sun was in her eyes," suggested Lydia.
"Or they were tears of despair on seeing Tyrone's paltry dance offering - hip thrusts being so last century..."
Rachel tuned out the conversation around her as she wrestled with whether there was meant to be significance in the choice of songs. Was Cassie trying to send her a message? It was such a totally ridiculous notion. She tried to push the idea away but some ever-hopeful part of her brain insisted on whispering 'maybe' in her ear. She scribbled 'I won't give up' on the list, practically inhaled the salad left on her plate and then beat a hasty retreat to google lyrics in the privacy of the restrooms. There was no way a sophisticated person like Cassie would be reduced to such a teenage-like tactic and yet was it too much of a coincidence surely for the song titles to be so meaningful? Although they were only meaningful if Cassie hadn't moved on, hadn't been toying with her and wanted to be back with Rachel as much as Rachel needed to be back with her. She sighed uncertain what to think as the start of a headache began to form. She didn't have any more time to dwell about it; her next class was mere minutes away.
Rachel's Wednesday evening was spent in her room avoiding Kurt and dedicated to an almost forensic like examination of the lyrics of the songs Cassie had played so far. The results were disappointingly and depressingly inconclusive. There were apt phrases but other parts that didn't really apply. So Rachel then decided to consider meaning. This was far more subjective and after scrolling through various forums where interpretations varied wildly - but almost invariably someone made reference to whatever song being about faith and God - Rachel was as uncertain about whether the song choices were significant or not as when she started. A voice in her head was calling her pathetic for scrabbling around trying to decide whether she was being sent a not-so-hidden message through song when the woman in question wouldn't even acknowledge her mere existence. How many lessons of being completely blanked would it take for her to get the message that Cassie wanted no more to do with her.
Cassie's desire to take action rather than being involved in a waiting game increased as the week progressed. Her unsubtle song choices were falling on deaf ears and for her own sanity she needed to find out where she stood before the weekend arrived so she could spend the weekend inebriated if necessary as part of the healing process. It was only a week but it felt like a lifetime and the uncertainty was wreaking havoc on the both of them. Maybe she needed to force Rachel's hand. By the end of that Thursday, one way or another she and Rachel would have a long overdue conversation and beyond that she didn't dare plan. So early Thursday morning, when the cleaners were still working their way though the building, Cassie fuelled only by excessive doses of caffeine was busy recording her own version of the day's song choice. It was time to pull out all the stops.
When the time for dance class finally came around Rachel was torn between nervous anticipation and a a half-hearted attempt to attach no significance whatsoever to Cassie's choice for the day's song. Her logical side insisted the song titles were a bit like a horoscope in that anyone could read a significance into it and make it apply to their own situation. Her battered optimistic emotional side preferred to believe otherwise even if there was little empirical data to back such a stance. This time a week ago she'd been happy she reminded herself. A week wasn't just a long time in politics. Rachel steeled herself and entered the class to be quickly joined by her ever-faithful dance companion Lydia. They took their places stretching and warming up at the back of the class. There was a strange expectant atmosphere in the room as everyone waited with barely concealed interest for Cassie to reveal the day's tune.
Cassie wouldn't have been the talented teacher she was without the ability to sense when there was a different vibe to a class. She swept the class quickly for some clue but came up empty. She could feel the anticipation in the air and it made her feel unusually nervous as she lined up the song for the day's make or break lesson. The thought alone made her jittery but that combined with the strange atmosphere in the room and the total attention of everyone being focussed on her made her uncharacteristically clumsy. She fumbled about so much that the song that blasted out of the speakers after her intro of ' today's tune is...' surprised her almost as much as the rest of the group.
"One Direction," breathed a reverent Tyrone as the introduction to 'That's what makes you beautiful' played to a stunned, pin-droppingly quiet audience. Then there was a sudden burst of laughter and some ribbing of Julian that she didn't quite follow.
Cassie was uncertain how to retrieve the situation but her indecision made it harder to undo her mistake. So she left the tune to play, gradually realising that this song was possible inspiring the group more than the one she'd intended to play. Rachel's puzzled gaze met hers momentarily before she hastily looked away. Cassie cursed internally but decided to just let the lesson run as the students seemed to be enjoying their heated discussions of boy band dance routine moments. She definitely needed to catch Rachel at the end of the session.
Now Rachel was completely bewildered at what to think. Was the song chosen because it was meant to have significance for her? Was it chosen to show it had no significance as a kind of snub to her? Was it even the right song because Cassie had looked quite startled when it first played? 'Nothing to understand' insisted her stern inner voice, the song titles are random so move on and stop pathetically scrabbling for a meaning where there is none. Rachel pushed the unhelpful thoughts aside. She'd been quite a boy band fan in her youth so maybe she could bring some of those long ago moves to the current routine being hammered out in her group. Soon she was immersed in a complicated co-ordinated routine that had the five of them breaking out into peals of laughter as things kept going wrong; four of them jumping to turn one way as a perfectly in time Lydia managed to jump and turn the other way brought Rachel close to tears. The class were called to order to show their work still leaving time for Cassie to lead the entire class in one huge co-ordinated routine that had everyone smiling by the end. Cassie had started with the Just Dance moves as a warm up and then gradually increased the complexity of the routine, pleased to note the class were keen to meet the challenge rather than dropping out. The unusually animated voices at the end of the lesson provided Cassie with the cover she needed to call Rachel over to talk to her before she could make her usual speedy departure.
"Yes Ms July?" asked Rachel, eyes fixed firmly on the top of Cassie's cane.
I...look...I just wondered…" Cassie struggled to order the thoughts in her head, "I thought we might…"
"Come on Rachel or we'll be late," interrupted Lydia, her voice uncharecteristically high pitched as she moved to stand next to Rachel, vibrating with nervousness.
"Just check your e-mail as I want to... run a possible song selection past you," managed Cassie finally.
Rachel grunted in response as Lydia finally plucked up the courage to drag her towards the exit glaring at Ms July as they went. Cassie watched them leave as she weighed up her options. Beyond turning up uninvited on Rachel's doorstep she was fast running out of ideas.
It was the end of the day before Rachel allowed herself to access her e-mails to understand what on earth Cassie had been talking about. She was on her way home when she finally dared to open the email, sent to her personal address no less, to find a brief message
Attached is a special version of the song I meant to use in today's lesson before technology intervened. Please listen to it carefully.
Rachel clicked on the audio file and an acoustic version of 'Listen to your heart' began to play with the third person 'he's' changed into first person 'I'm'. She played it again feeling a sudden thrill as she realised the singer was Cassie. Cassie had taken the time and trouble to record a song for her? Surely there was only one way to interpret being sent a personalised version of 'listen to your heart'? She listened more intently through the next play back. Her rather expensive earphones allowed her to pick up the barely descernible hitch and the slightly thicker tone on the last 'listen to your heart, before you tell me goodbye'. With the song on repeat Rachel finished the journey home on automatic pilot trying to decide on what, if anything, she should do next. Listening to her heart was what usually got her into trouble - did no one write songs about 'listen to your head'? Do the sensible thing? Follow your brain? Take no chances? Rachel sighed as she opened the apartment door. It was all very well telling her to listen to her heart - in an emotionally moving song no less - but surely an apology was more in order? This wasn't just about her and her heart but more about Cassie's casual disregard for its fragility. Her musings were cut short by a determined looking Kurt coming to stand in front of her. She removed her earphones slowly – the fact this conversation had been coming for a while didn't make its arrival any more welcomed.
"Rachel" Kurt began, projecting as much solemnity as he could muster into the name.
"Kurt," Rachel matched his tone and then mimicked his stance by folding her arms.
"I really think we need to talk. I couldn't help but notice…" began Kurt
"Fine," interrupted Rachel holding her hands up as if in surrender, "but could we 'talk' later? It's been a long tiring day and I need a shower."
"Well okay, provided the shower doesn't last all evening," snarked Kurt as Rachel headed to her room. He watched her pause and then turn to face him.
"Do you know why I think we work so well as flat mates?" Rachel asked.
"No," replied Kurt warily. Rachel never asked a question like that without having a carefully prepared answer that always left you feeling a bit worse about yourself.
"It's because of a lack of judgement or criticism about each other's behaviour. We don't go prying into the other's business and we just let each other be." Rachel stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder. "I particularly value being able to be who I want to be and knowing that if I needed anything you'd be there for me. I've never had that privacy before, I've always had my Dads prying into my every slight mood change and I didn't realise how exhausting that was until now. I know if I wanted to talk about anything you'd listen and if I didn't you'd let me not talk about it without making me feel guilty. That level of trust is just so special."
Kurt was uncertain how to respond. She'd just very nicely told him to mind his own business. He knew she meant every word of what she'd said.
"I hate to see you hurting," he managed.
"I know," replied Rachel gently. They hugged briefly and Rachel headed to her room again. Maybe a shower was a good idea after all.
Cassie had been all jumpy and unable to settle since she'd sent Rachel that e-mail. She'd been obsessively checking her phone even if she wasn't sure what kind of response she expected. An acknowledgement of receipt maybe? She didn't even know if Rachel had even opened the e-mail, or heard her song, or even wanted anything to do with her. She finally decided action was definitely more her style than inaction, purchased a cheap phone and began to make her way over to Rachel's apartment. The pair of them needed a conversation and even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear she needed to find out where she stood. She'd given Rachel space with no idea whether that was the right move or not. They'd managed the briefest bit of eye contact today so surely that meant there was some hope? Cassie stopped at the all night, somewhat seedy, diner around the corner from Rachel's block and with a strong black coffee in hand carefully considered what text to send from her new clunky phone with its new unknown to Rachel number. If Rachel was still mad at her she had just this one shot at a text. It was approximately twenty minutes and several cups of coffee later before Cassie threw caution to the wind and sent the text. Now she just needed to wait.
Rachel emerged from the shower some time later almost eighty percent certain that she needed to ring or maybe text Cassie. She could demand answers about just what on earth was going on. She would need to gauge exactly what Cassie's motivations were while keeping her own thoughts and feelings carefully restrained. She'd need to be dispassionate and aloof - Rachel checked out in her mirror her attempt at an aloof and dispassionate expression; she looked half hopeful with a hint of desperation thrown in. She replayed last Thursday's lesson in her head and gazed at the mirror again, now she looked cross and outraged. Somewhere in the middle was the expression she needed. She began towelling her hair dry before finally noticing a new text message on her phone. It was from an unknown number.
Meet me by 8 in Ed's diner round the corner from your apartment block or I'm coming to yours regardless of Kurt. We need to talk. We're both hurting and I miss you so much. Cassie
Rachel stared at her phone in shock as she reread the sentence about Cassie missing her. Then her eyes took in the time at the top of the screen. It was 8:05 pm already. Damn her newfound preference for long showers. Rachel stumbled about her room hastily trying to get dressed as fear coursed through her system that at any moment Cassie would be knocking on her door. She so didn't need to be dealing with Kurt right now on top of trying to sort things out with Cassie. Jeans and loose sweatshirt in place, Rachel finally pulled on some socks, slipped into her trainers and raced to the apartment door trying to pull her still damp and uncooperative hair into a ponytail.
"Just realised I needed to get something from the corner store. See you later," she directed at Kurt as she threw herself out the apartment door and began running down the stairs.
Her heart was racing from the exertion rather than the fear of Cassie and Kurt meeting as she made it out of the door of the building. Now that the fear of Cassie knocking on the door had subsided she was free to take a more measured pace on her way to the diner. Was Cassie on her way to hers? Would she even still be at the diner? Maybe she should text? Rachel checked her pockets as she walked, no phone, no money but she had managed to grab her door keys. Just great. She slowed her pace as the diner came into sight. A quick pep talk about being restrained and keeping her feelings under wraps seemed appropriate. She needed explanations and apologies. If Cassie was still in the diner she'd be immaculately turned out, incredibly calm and much better placed for this conversation than Rachel was. Cassie held all the cards in terms of experience and being cooly calm, she needed to be equally cool and rational. Rachel took a calming breath and allowed her eyes to gradually focus on the female figure nervously pacing the pavement in front of the diner. The woman was anxiously checking her watch and seemed too preoccupied with the thoughts in her head to take in her surroundings. It slowly dawned on Rachel that it was Cassie currently wearing out the pavement in front of the diner obviously as apprehensive as she was. Her surprise was tinged with relief. Not so calmly collected then and maybe just as uncertain and anxious as she was. She took a few more paces forward stepping out of the shadows and directly into Cassie's eyeline. Rachel watched the emotions play across Cassie's face from wide-eyed shock to momentary disbelief and then finally pleasure.
"Rachel?" asked Cassie, relief and reverence saturating the word as her face transformed from a worried look into a pleased smile and she took a step towards her. Relief, excitement and fear were a potent mix of emotions racing through her. She wasn't aware of raising her arms to greet Rachel she just knew she wanted to be close to her. To touch her and make sure she was really here. Rachel had chosen to come to the diner, a good sign surely? Why was Cassie finding it so difficult to breathe?
"Cassie," breathed Rachel aware of the huge rush of adrenalin coursing through her veins and making her heart race. Thoughts of restraint fled as she found herself drawn towards the smiling, so pleased to see her woman. It had been too long since she'd seen that smile. She felt an overwhelming need to touch Cassie and they both moved towards each other at what felt like an agonisingly slow pace. Suddenly she was enveloped in Cassie's arms pressing her face into Cassie's neck as they hugged each other tightly in a manner suggesting neither was going to let go in the near future. There was a gentle moan but Rachel was unsure if that was her or Cassie.
Cassie pressed Rachel closely against her, inhaled the flowery scent of her shampoo and was unable to resist lightly kissing the top of Rachel's slightly damp head. However difficult or painful the road ahead might be Cassie realised it would be worth it just for this, the comfort and pleasure of having Rachel in her arms fiercely hugging her.
"I'm so sorry" she found herself muttering on repeat finally realising just how sorry she really was to have so thoughtlessly nearly jeopardised all this.
"Shhhhhh" soothed Rachel before reluctantly pulling away from Cassie slightly so she could look her in the eye as Cassie continued to apologise. Rachel silenced her with the lightest touch of her finger to Cassie's lips before using her hand to stroke her cheek.
"Talk later," whispered Rachel, " for now I just want you to hold me."
"Okay," replied Cassie as Rachel nuzzled back into her embrace and sighed contentedly. She gently stroked the back of Rachel's neck with one hand as she drew circles on her back with the other. She felt tears prick in the corner of her eyes but this time from an almost overwhelming sense of relief and happiness. However difficult the conversation ahead might be at least she already knew what the outcome would be and she vowed to herself to never give Rachel reason to ignore her in the future.
Rachel had in the past been accused (and fervently denied) being clingy but now she was in danger of earning the description without any regret. Her heart swelled with affection and a smile felt permanently plastered on her face as she marvelled at the transformation in her feelings wrought by just being held by Cassie. Her determination to be rational and aloof had barely lasted longer than her setting eyes on Cassie and realising that she was just as uncertain and unsure as Rachel was. It was a thought that gave her most hope for the future. They were in this together as equals and from the way Cassie was holding her she realised the older woman wanted this as much as she did.