not exactly a housewarming

who: caleb and isabelle
where: his house
when: late afternoon

Caleb was outside. He happened to be sitting on the porch, watching the last of the random guys bringing in furniture. Some chick was kind of directing them around, and he? Well, he was staying the shit out of that situation. He assumed that Math had arranged things, and it was just sort of weird to see it in progress. New things, that basically looked to him like someone else's life.

He was cold, and getting colder, but he really had no desire to be in there while people were house decorating, so he was trying to wait it out. His mp3 player was blocking out most of the noise or chatter, and at least Chick and Dudes one through three had given up trying to talk to him or get his opinion on things. He honestly didn't give a rat's ass where some weird wall hanging should go. His eyes ticked along the sidewalk as they were starting to pack up, and noticed Isabelle walking. He didn't say anything, not calling out to the girl or whatever, and he wondered if she was going to notice him. And if she did, if she was going to go for round three of bugging the shit out of him.

The movers outside of the small house were what brought Isabelle out of her distracted state of mind. She'd been thinking about Thom, wondering if any progress had been made at all until he sort of flipped his direction on her when two guys carrying so many empty boxes between them almost ran into her. Coming out of her thoughts she noticed the truck and the group outside debating over where what seemed like the last of a set new things should go inside the house. Envy for new things ran deep as she watched the two men make their way back up the walk and on to the porch of the place. She'd almost turned on and continued to her house, but then she recognized the figure sitting on the porch.

With a mildly evil grin, Isabelle turned on her heel and did her best to fall into his line of sight. Actually once she tried to do that it was pretty clear he'd already seen her passing the house. She wasn't sure when Caleb Lockwood had moved to the neighborhood, but she certainly wasn't going to complain about it. Once she was sure he could see her, she flashed a bright cheerleader grin and waved at him.

He made a show of rolling his eyes, so she'd be sure to catch it. "You know, I did see you, Ra Ra, and I didn't say hi. That's what's known to the rest of the world as a 'hint'. You should probably run along home and look it up." he told her, loud enough so she'd be able to hear him, and he ignored the Look he got from the chick as she was walking out. "It'll be under H. That's the letter with the two long sides and the connecter in the middle. Oh and you'll be looking for a dictionary. I think the internet is a scary place for someone like you and you should avoid it altogether."

Today was going to be fantastic. First intimate moments with Thom and now harassing the shit out of Lockwood. It very well could take the cake for "best day since arriving in Marquette." Well probably not, but it put her in a good mood. Ignoring his obvious desire for her to go away, she opted to start her way up the walk towards him. "Oh Caleb, whatever would I do without you to guide me through this big scary world?" she teased with mock sincerity. "Isn't your house on the other side of town? Please don't tell me you're the weak link in this moving crew." Turning to the woman who seemed to be in charge and had tossed him the dirty look a few second before, "You should fire him for being lazy."

The woman gave a light smile. "We're just finishing up here. He doesn't work for me." she said politely.

Caleb, or his part sighed. "You stalking me now? if you hadn't noticed, the other place is ash at the moment." What with his house having burned down and all. Not that that was really common knowledge. he hadn't gone and told everyone who'd listen about it or anything. "And if I wasn't here to explain this shit to you, you'd probably spend the rest of your night wondering what the fuck I was talking about, and cry yourself to sleep in a fit of confusion." he added.

"Lucky you," she reassured the mover lady. "And, hello Lockwood? How can I be both stalking you and not knowing that your house is ash? That'd be just straight up pathetic, which is more your scene." Isabelle flash a smile that was mostly teeth, the same way a predator would smile at his prey before pouncing.

He rolled his eyes. "That the best you can do?" he asked. Calling him pathetic was hardly a stinging blow. But then again, whenever he talked to her, she seemed to want to stick around and just talk about whatever, mostly ignoring the fact that it was clear he didn't want her there. He noticed the guys were starting to close up the truck, and he had to grab the invoice from the woman, and sign something, which he did, before they headed out. Which left him with Ra Ra. "Shouldn't you be off perfecting head techniques on the football team or something?"

"And insinuating I'm a slut is so much better?" she countered. "Come on Caleb, like the football team is even worth the time of day. I've got my eye on bigger and better. And less likely to slobber on you." Funny he brought up her sex life, as she was curious about his anyway. "Which unfortunate soul have you been torturing with your presence and lack of experience these days? The hushed tones in the halls haven't had borne your name lately."

"At least mine was more creative, and had specifics. I didn't just come out and call you a slut." Caleb pointed out. "You just flat out called me pathetic. At least put effort in here, Ra Ra." he said, tugging the buds out of his ears as he pushed himself to his feet. "And who I spend my time with is my business, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically. "And whether or not I'm lacking in the experience department." Which really, he wasn't. But that wasn't her business, and he wasn't really going to rise to the veiled accusation that he was a virgin.

"Who you spend your time with is hardly just your business. There should be some sort of public service announcement that goes out when you're on the prowl, so women can be forewarned. But if you have opted to align yourself with someone from the better sex, I'd like to send her my condolences, and possibly a fruit basket for keeping you from harassing the rest of the female population." Isabelle had invited herself onto his porch at this point and was leaning against one of the columns. She was full aware of the fact that pushing the issue would just annoy the crap out of him and she was enjoying it.

"See, now you're just reaching. I haven't harassed anyone. If you're going to make claims, at least base them on a grain of truth, or at the very least a stereotype." Caleb said. "I mean, if you really wanted to get into better insults, you could ask me who's girlfriend I've stolen this month." Since he did have a rep for that, even if it wasn't actually true per se. At least, not on his end. "Either you're getting worse at this or you just don't have the brainpower to spare after all that spelling with your arms." She seemed far cattier than usual today, and he wondered if she was dropping her 'aww, sweetie, I just want to get to know you' card and just going with full on animosity.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow to his criticism. "How I word it is irrelevant. You keep dodging the question. Which leads me to believe you do have someone." Her smile was sweeter, but still had some predator twinge to it. "So do tell, who is she? Or he? Or it? Maybe I'll make it worth your while." Mentally she was somewhat exhausted and having him attack everything she was saying just for saying it rather than just trading blows with her was getting old. Her mind wandered back to the conversation with Thom and she wondered if all of them would be as trying as the first two.

Caleb looked at her. "...Ra Ra, I cannot possibly imagine what it would be you could come up with that would be worth my while." he said. Though deep down he was actually curious what she might offer. Just because. He didn't think it'd be anything that would remotely tempt him, especially since technically, he really wasn't with anyone, but still. There was Nic. Like there was a reason he wasn't riding around while the movers had been there, being she had his car.

"I'm sure we could come up with something," Isabelle answered coyly. "But it would depend on how good your information is, and what you want exactly." What she wanted to offer was a position at her side, working to take over the school. With Isaac gone, Isabelle saw potential to possibly tweak Caleb to fill the golden boy's shoes. He'd require quite a bit of work, but people didn't hate him like they did some people. At the very least it would be a fun project and worth suggesting if Thom wasn't going to take up so much of her time and focus.

"Really? You offer that and then tell me I've got to come up with something? I thought at least you'd have something in mind." Caleb said, disappointed. He headed for the door, and walked into the new house, stopping just inside the door to look around. ...yeah, this really was like walking into someone else's place. Definitely not his own. "What makes you think you'd have anything I'd want?" he asked, since he knew she was still right there.

"I have some things in mind, but there's no used offering them if you aren't interested. You know that. That's like showing you my cards and getting nothing in return." Isabelle looked down at her nails, as if suddenly not interested in the conversation and more in manicure. "Of course I have something you want. It's me, I have just about anything at my fingertips. Hell, with Isaac leaving I could make you the new poster child for the school. I'm popular, a cheerleader and quickly climbing every social ladder. Where do you want to start?"

Caleb looked back over his shoulder at her. "...you're actually trying to sell me on the notion that you can get 'anything', and you're talking to me about being popular?" he asked incredulously. "...Ra Ra did you hit your head or have you been this delusional since we met?" he asked. Christ, him taking Isaac's place? The shit was she talking about? He wasn't a guy who was the type who even paid attention to the social hierarchy at school, he sure as hell wasn't interested in what some bimbo cheerleader might be able to 'do for him' in that regard. Was she mistaking him with some socially retarded nerd who'd beg for the chance? Or was she just forgetting she wasn't in some stupid fucking teen movie?

"Don't doubt my skills, Lockwood. Plus, I know you don't care about being popular. I'm just saying you could be. Think about it, Isaac wasn't popular because he tried to be, he just was. The school will be looking for someone to fill his place. They'll try to make Thom work, but you know him, he doesn't fit the mold. You though, could lay off girlfriend snatching for a few weeks and take over. The school's due of for a regime change, wouldn't it be fun for you and yours to take it away from the perfects?" Isabelle shrugged as if there was nothing to it. "I'm not offering to make you over or take you to parties or whatever. That's not happening. Actually I'm not offering to do much of anything outside of strategic backing." She yawned as if bored with the idea. "I know full well you won't go for it, but you asked what could be done and I answered. Plus I find it interesting that the poor social hierarchy of our school has imploded so much on itself that someone like you could completely take over."

There was just something wrong with this girl. Before, he'd actually kind of almost liked the back and forth with her, but at the moment, he was wondering what the fuck was up. "Your powers of manipulating the social structure don't exactly impress me and I don't really think I want to do anything just for your amusement. "Go be the next Chrissy. Have fun playing your warped little games with everyone's heads. Leave me out of it." he told her, shutting the door. He didn't lock it, and half wondered if she was going to walk in regardless. He did kick his shoes off and hang his coat on the little rack by the door, which was again, just a little trippy.

Isabelle didn't flinch when he closed the door. She was actually impressed he'd held out with the conversation as long as he did. In reality, it was ridiculous, but it had been worth the slight effort to try and save the fate of the world from jocks and ditzy cheerleaders. Sighing she pushed off the column and knocked on the door, wondering if he'd answer.

"Do I have to point out what a 'hint' is again?" he said loud enough for her to hear through the door as he headed into the living room, looking doubtfully around. Yeah. This was just trippy. It had a woman's touch in here, since that chick had apparently done the decorating, and it was just weird. Like he was living in a catalogue.

Taking his 'hint' she pushed the unlocked door open on her own accord and let herself in. The new place was full of new furniture, which is what she guessed the movers were up to when she showed up. "Man, this place looks nice and right out of a Pottery Barn ad," she called after him, headed towards the living room, where she found him. Her expression showed the hurt she wanted it to show. "You really think I'm trying to be Chrissy, that I want to be? I've heard them talk, people hated her. I'm just pissed at the squad because they almost broke my leg at practice this afternoon. I guess I was thinking making them unpopular would help them focus on not fucking dropping me. You caught the brunt of it."

"I think what you just said to me was the plot of a fucked up eighties teen movie, and it's exactly a Chrissy thing to do." Caleb said, still looking at the place with an expression that showed he wasn't exactly on board with it. "And yes, people hated her. She was a bitch. I still maintain I'm happy she's dead and I'm just sorry I wasn't there to watch." Which he'd told her before, when they'd talked the day of Chrissy's funeral. "I also suggest not trusting people with a combined IQ of four to hold you up above hard surfaces."

"It wasn't the hard surface, we were on a mat. And I got hurt when they scrambled to catch me instead of letting me just fall," she explained for the second time today. "I'm not her. I won't be." Isabelle looked around the room and caught a glimpse of Caleb's expression. "Don't you live with your brothers or something?"

"One of them." Caleb answered. "But the house burned to the ground. Seriously, there wasn't anything left." he said. "So...all new things. I guess my brother hired someone to outfit the house, and I'm not sure I want to live in a page from the sears catalgue." He started to walk further into the house, not having really explored it yet. "So you're not her and refuse to be...why are you going the cheerleader route and playing the manipulative bitch card then? Sounds like Chrissy to me."

"Either that or he got a girlfriend who's moving in," she offered as an alternate explanation for the room. Following in his wake, she yet again justified her hobby that she hated, but needed. "Cheerleading because I actually like it. It's fun. When they aren't trying to save you by hurting you. And I wasn't technically playing the manipulative bitch card. I was merely trying it, and failing. So rule that out. I wonder if your new bed has airplane sheets, that would be adorable."

"Yeah that wouldn't happen." Caleb said. At current, if Math had anything resembling a girlfriend it was Lisa, because they'd needed her on board to help Leija out. He walked through the room and back into the kitchen, looking around that room as well. There were all these little touches that he knew neither himself nor Math would have picked out. Like little themes in rooms. The kitchen had old looking coffee cup things all over. Including a metal piece that was a coffee cup with curls of steam coming off of it. Definitely weird. Starting to open up cabinets, he looked through for a glass. "So cheerlead. Hop up and down and get any asshole in the next three counties staring at your panties. Good career choice, Ra Ra." he said. Finding a glass, he went to the fridge and opened it up, seeing if there was anything inside. There was, and he grabbed a bottle of soda, pouring himself a glass. "Please tell me you weren't seriously just contemplating my bed."

"It's not a career choice, and it beats roller derby and ice fishing." Isabelle was scowling until he made the comment about his bed and then she let herself flush slightly before narrowing her eyes. "No I was not contemplating your bed. Did you want me to be?"

Screwing the cap back on the bottle, Caleb looked at her, noting the flush, but not mentioning it. Leaning against the counter, he took a drink then answered her. "Princess, I would not touch you if you were paying me." he told her. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty. She was. It was more that she was pretty, she knew it, and she was just another Chrissy, only with slightly better conversational skills. And possibly the occasional better play on things. Chrissy had been a straight up bitch, Isabelle was at least mildly interesting to talk to. In a 'hey, I didn't actually invite you in' sort of manner. He waited for her reaction, though, really paying close attention to how she would take that, or what she would do with it.

Isabelle breathed a loud sigh of relief. "Thank, God. Cause that would have made everything all sorts of weird and uncomfortable." She didn't hide the fact that she gave him a quick once over. "Plus I think it would be similar to making out with my cousin or something equally incestuous." She didn't show that she was a little miffed about his flat out refusal, but she assumed it had nothing to do with her looks.

He just eyed her for a moment. "You know, if you really want me to believe you're not playing the manipulative bitch card? You should stop playing it every two seconds." he pointed out. "If you think you're being subtle, you aren't. if you think you're being clever, you're not. And you aren't exactly winning points here, Ra Ra." he told her. Because he didn't think for an instant that he'd done something like hurt her feelings. But he did feel like she was trying and failing to fuck with his head, and it was just not something he found entertaining enough to keep up with.

"Did you want me to cry because you're not interested in me? You get on my case about being manipulative, but even when I tell the truth you accuse me of it? It's not the end of the world that you don't want to bed me Caleb, because you're not my type." In a rare instance, Isabelle wasn't lying. Caleb was a decent enough guy, but she didn't understand for an instant why women ditched their perfectly handsome boyfriends for him. He wasn't anything special and if she'd needed to seduce him, she could have done it, but she would not have enjoyed it. "I'd think the manipulative bitch move here would be to try and make you want me, wouldn't it?"

"Are we even having the same conversation, or do you just have the mental capacity of a fucking goldfish?" he asked. "Two seconds ago you get all flushed and coy, asking me if I didn't want you thinking about my bed. Which, by the way, isn't that fucking subtle, and was probably meant to make me start thinking about you in that capacity, so don't even try bullshitting me otherwise. Then, I reject you and you immediately flip to 'well I didn't want you anyways it'd be gross so there' like a fucking third grader. what about that isn't being a manipulative bitch? Setting shit up for a reaction and when you didn't get the one you wanted, going on the attack again--seriously. Think before you open up your mouth, either that or at least have the slightest bit of awareness that you're about as transparent as glass."

This time she was definitely scowling. "I blushed because you caught me off guard. I made a joke about you having little kid sheets and you turn it into me thinking about sex, which by the way I wasn't, I was merely mocking your suburbia heaven interior decorating scheme here. And the question? It wasn't coy, it was snarky. You bring up the sex and I ask if that's what I'm supposed to be thinking about? If, I, like every other girl, should be thinking about screwing up her life just to get with you. And then you shoot me way down, as in you'd rather hook up with a cheap pro than me. The natural defensive reaction is going to be 'i don't like you,' and if it hadn't been that before it was after being treated like scum under your shoe. Jesus Lockwood, get the fuck over yourself."

"You realize you're the one who's talking to someone who's house she just walked the fuck into without being invited. After I shut the door on you." Caleb pointed out. "And it sure sounded coy to me. Snarky usually has different inflection. Like sarcasm for one, which you seem to have down otherwise. And I haven't said shit about anyone else or them being with me. I don't like you specifically. You're special. I haven't in any way indicated that I'm some great prize, or that women are all over me, or that they should be. in fact if anyone's talked themselves up like they're all that in this little side trip into bizzaro land where you're over my house, it's you. Remember that whole spiel about how you can get anything, and you could probably stoop low enough to 'help' me out so I could be popular too?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes at him. "Alright, you hate me and I don't much care for you. That's evident enough. And don't want to make you popular or help you get there. Seriously. I realized today somewhere between back hand springs and formations that with Chrissy dead, Isaac leaving and no one else around, someone completely different could suddenly be in charge of the school, which is a little weird, or whatever. And in my anger at getting elbowed so bad it hurts to walk I realized that someone could get the cheerleading elite out of commission and then maybe I could get a squad with talent instead of fake ids and popularity points. Maybe I tossed the idea your way because I was just pissed or maybe I just wanted to fuck with you a little. 'Cause I assumed you wouldn't actually take me seriously. Forget it." She turned, not entirely ready to leave, but looking at him made her angry enough to want to hit him, which would be a little ridiculous.

"Woman, do you make sense in your head?" he had to ask. The claims of not manipulating, then blatantly admitting to it, some weird thing about social to and fro...he really flat out had to wonder if when she was dropped by the other squad girls if she hadn't broken her brain. Because seriously, nothing there actually added up. That was the first time she'd looked seriously pissed at him though. Their other encounters had mainly been back and forth, but nothing that hit close to the bone or anything. So he half wondered if she was going to start something, and he set his glass down just in case that actually happened.

His comment gave her the opening she needed. It was useless to fight with Caleb, in his head he'd always win, because he thought he was better than she was. But her back and forth hadn't even been that severe, but he saw it that way. So finally when he broke and asked, she broke with it. Giving a shaking sigh, she paused a moment before glancing back over her shoulder, letting some of the anger fade from her expression. Looking away again she answered his question. "No, not as much as I used to."

Don't ask. She's just saying it to draw you in. he told himself, but it was kind of an automatic reaction to ask. "No?" He knew that was probably just idiotic of him, the girl was a cheerleader. She didn't make any sense to him and had been kind of pulling turnarounds as fast as she could, so he didn't trust that all of a sudden, at random, she'd be honest. But it was just that knee-jerk reaction to ask. So...he did, and he didn't backpeddle and take it back, he waited to see what she'd say.

Her laugh was sad and forced. "You're not actually asking are you Lockwood? Like you really care about me and my feelings and how it's a little less than awesome trying to be perfect?" Isabelle turned as she spoke and letting an obvious amount of pain slip into her eyes. Of course he'd asked, it was the most reasonable and almost natural response, even if he didn't care the situation was going to make him want to know, or at least feel compelled to know.

"Sounded like I asked, didn't it?" Caleb countered, still aware this was probably just another manipulation, just another brand of it. "So answer, or get the fuck out of my house." he landed on, because he wasn't going for the bait of coming out with 'oh, I care, tell me everything!' That really wasn't him. Really, he didn't care, but he did want to know. There was a difference.

Isabelle sighed and watched the floor. "You think it's all a big game and you're right. And it's exhausting. Everyday I have to be what they want me to be and it gets old. I don't really expect you to understand, because you don't care. But I do care. I want them to like me, because I like when people like me." Looking back up at Caleb, she rolled her eyes at herself. "I can't believe I'm even talking to you about this."

Really, she wasn't the only one who couldn't believe she was talking to him about that. "Assuming for a second you're not lying out your ass--which by the way I'm not sold on--" he started. "Why do you give a shit about what anyone thinks? And does twisting everyone around actually have to be how you get that to happen? Or a cheerleader, or whatever it is you're really doing here that supposedly gets you that approval?"

Isabelle shrugged with an innocent look on her face. "I dunno, I like having friends. And I'm not like you, I can't make the same kind of friends you have. Those sort of people don't like me. So I'm left trying to make my way with the popular crowd. And yea sometimes that means keeping up with people like Chrissy or being happy all the time. And it's not always fun, but those are my friends. I love them, even in their faults, but they don't make life easy." Isabelle raised her arms up over her head in mock defeat. "And seriously, why does no one believe that I might actually enjoy cheerleading?"

"...and what 'kind' of friends to I have?" Caleb asked neutrally. Mostly he didn't even think people paid any attention to who he hung out with. About all people thought they knew was he was a girlfriend thief, had ganked Harkin's girlfriend, Isaac's, and...yeah. And Isaac's had been a popular girl. Chrissy's best friend, actually. Thankfully that had been before school started, but he knew people knew. Yes, he'd dated a popular chick. It was just as strange as it sounded. "And I would imagine it's because you pull the emo card then go right back to saying that you love them. I'm back to asking you if you make sense in your own head, Ra Ra, because you sure as hell don't out loud. Either you're cool with what you've got going on, or you aren't. If you like cheerleading, fine. Whatever, it's not like I give a shit. Though if you're really trying to sell the 'I'm not one of the clones' angle, you should probably stop acting like them. Just as a bit of unsolicited advice." Which she'd ignore.

"Your friends aren't in that A-crowd and it doesn't bother them. It's just a different breed of people. I bet they all care about being true to themselves or whatever. They see someone like me, and they shun me." Isabelle dropped he gaze from his. "Just because I like them, doesn't mean I like everything about them. It's just that I don't feel like anyone knows me. It's not the end of the world I guess, I have Medea, even if we don't agree on much. I just wish people saw me as more than, like you said, one of the clones. Without me having to change my lifestyle. Plus what's it going to change? It's not like you and I are going to be friends."

"We're really not." Caleb agreed there. At least, he couldn't imagine a reality where that happened. "My friends are more interested in being true in general. Not just to themselves, but they're honest. But shit like you pull...the blatant fucked up manipulation...not exactly the way to go if you want anyone to get to know you. You have to drop the bullshit if you're ever going to get there. Takes risk, Ra Ra." he said with a shrug. Not that he really thought it did. Or, it didn't for someone like him. For her? Maybe. If this whole thing wasn't just another level of bullshit, and he still wasn't convinced otherwise.

Isabelle ticked her gazed back to him again. "And this, talking to you like this, actually telling you, who hates me, rather than anyone else how I really feel? What is this? If it isn't some sort of huge risk, then I'm not sure I know what you mean." She could tell he ws still skeptical, that he didn't completely believe her yet, but he was breaking. Hell he was giving her advice on how to get friends like his, or to be friends with his friends. That was definitely a start.

"Never said I hated you." Caleb said. Because he hadn't. He didn't hate her. Chrissy, now that bitch he'd hated. He would have happily fed her to Melia if he'd had half a chance. But he had his reasons for that, and with Isabelle...she was just some cheerleader who liked bothering him for some reason. And occasionally he didn't mind the banter with. "And no. This is zero risk to you. I mean, honestly, who the fuck am I going to tell? As far as the rest of the world's concerned, this conversation never happened. Plus, you haven't given me any reason to trust you, so I'm probably going to chalk this up as you just trying to pull something else over on me. So...what risk exactly? I'd say coming in uninvited was a bigger risk, because haven't you heard?" he gave her a vicious little grin for a moment. "I'm not the most stable of people." Which he knew was a rumor people liked to kick around a lot. The fact that he had landed himself in the ICU before school started and had started late due to his time in the hospital and psych ward was something people liked to latch onto and talk about when they were bored.

"You don't scare me much Lockwood. But you hold on to the rumors spread about you like they are badges of honor." She wasn't afraid of him. Crazy wasn't something that scared her as much as it excited her. Crazy was unpredictable and she liked that game. Sighing loudly she half glared at him. "I thought it was a big risk, trying to be friends with you, but yet again you've reminded me you've only got two sides. Asshole and arrogant asshole. Trust me, even if I was in the market to manipulate, which I'm not, you only rank in as someone who's chain might be worth yanking when I'm bored." Turning on her heel she started towards the door. "Catch ya around Lockwood."

He rolled his eyes. "Do I." he said. Really, he had to wonder where this girl got her opinions from. "And this was your version of trying to be friends? Really, this was your attempt?" he asked. "No wonder you're having a crisis of not having any." And there she was again, flipping around on whether or not she was manipulating. God, she had to be fucking nuts, or she had to have the memory of a goldfish, and expected everyone else to too. Well, whatever. He didn't say anything more, happy to let her walk out. He was bored with this bullshit now. For a second, he'd even asked what was up, but obviously that had been a mistake. So, she could fuck off.