Catnip

02 | In Which Caleb is Outnumbered

Caleb wipes his feet off on the welcome mat, careful to clean off every inch of mud from the soles of his sneakers, and then follows the sounds of dramatic action-movie blasts past the fireplace, toward the sofa area, too lost in thought to process much else.

"OK, so not only did your cat eat into my vital study time –"

"Dude, what the fuck?"

The voice that interrupts him belongs not to Marnie but to Brittney Woods, Daniel's girlfriend and Caleb's unofficial rival.

(He still can't wrap his head around the fact he even has a rival. All he knows is that Brittney hates losing whereas he's prone to winning, and it's an unspoken rule of the cosmos that two self-confessed competitive geniuses cannot survive as friends.)

Right now she's sitting on Daniel's lap on the couch, and from the way their clothes are all rumpled and their breathing's uneven, it's pretty clear neither of them have been watching TV. He considers just muttering a quick sorry (even though it's hardly his fault they're making out downstairs when the whole place is open-plan, therefore not private) and continuing his manhunt for Marnie, but it's too late because Brittney's eyes are locked on his and damn, does she look pissed.

"How'd you get in here?" she demands.

"Well, you see, there are these miraculous inventions named door handles–"         

"I meant how'd you open the door in the first place, you smartass."

Obviously that's what she meant. What does she think he's talking about? "The door handle," he repeats, stifling the urge to shoot her a withering glare. "The same way everyone gets in."

"Right, so you broke in –"

"Britt, relax," Daniel says and rubs her shoulder. "I left the door unlocked."

"You left the door unlocked? Jesus Christ, Daniel, how fucking dense are you?"

Exceedingly, Caleb wants to say, but then he remembers Operation: Kill the Cat and figures he's better off doing whatever he can to remain in Daniel's good books for the time being. Even if Marnie doesn't agree to take the cat off him, Daniel might. He's always been a gullible bastard.

(Which, Caleb supposes, is better than being a snobby bastard or a homophobic bastard or a racist bastard or, like him, a cynical bastard.)

"What's so wrong with leaving the door unlocked?" Daniel asks.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I –"

"People are robbed on a daily occurrence. Homes vandalised, savings stolen, families slaughtered. Locking the door isn't some difficult fact to wrap your head around, it's common sense!"

"You're overreacting."

"What?"

"We don't live in some crazy big city. We don't even live in town, Britt. This is rural Wyoming, middle of nowhere –" 

"That's even worse! Have you never seen a horror film before? God!"

"Hey, uh, where's Marnie?" Caleb asks before they forget about his presence.

"Out in the stables, I think." Daniel shoots him a sheepish smile, as if to apologise for the drama. Whatever. Caleb's indifference refuses to melt, so he just nods at Daniel, avoids making eye contact with Brittney and gets the hell outta Dodge before they find a way to pull him into their little domestic.