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Pursing her lips in light amusement, Chandler nodded. "Yeah," she agreed. She did know where to find her. She supposed some part of her always would. She didn't know how soon she'd seek her out again; There was a lot of things to consider and Chandler herself wasn't sure where she stood, or how she felt.
Just because it felt easier now, that didn't mean it would feel the same when the two got the chance to actually talk. Part of her dreaded that. Part of her thought that it was unnecessarily. Better leave the past alone. Still, the brunette lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers as she too, took a step away.
"See you around, Cal," she Brit announced before turning.
Chandler saw the way the blinde's words changed to the words offered. How she seemed pleased at first, then almost disappointed. It tugged at her, in ways that she'd almost forgotten. Yet it seemed like only yesterday. The pull and tug that seemed almost a part of her.
Chandler shook her head. "I've got other stuff I need to do." Like moving into her dorm room. Unpack. Figure out where her classrooms were. She'd started in the middle of the year. There was much for her to read up on. "Besides, she added, "They-", she gestured towards the students. "-seem eager to grt their teacher back." She smiled then. "Most students don't like class being longer than expected."
Chandler's shoulders slumped, releasing tension she didn't know she'd had. Was there really anything left to talk about? Callie had made her choice back then and that had been that. Green eyes lifted, lips pursing. "Do we?" she asked. She was genuinely curious. Chandler couldn't think of anything the two of them had to discuss. Not if it was related to the past, anyway. The future on the onder hand... Well, she hadn't even began thinking about that yet.
Pulling herself out of the chair, Chandler stretched her arms above her head. She supposed talking didn't hurt. There was little to lose in this situation. Wasn't there? "But alright," she agreed finally. She straightened herself, looking up at the much taller blonde. "I guess I'd be alright with that."
"I'll keep the in mind," she promised. She had never been one to do much about her hair, but at least she had the option. Hopefully something that wouldn't destroy her hair too. There was something else on the brunette's mind though. "Well, mutants are out and about, so I'm fairly certain you could earn quite a lot on your abilities." Especially if it was as she suspected and the girl's kind of 'dye" didn't harm the hair like the kinds you bought at a store.
"Oh, no," she smiled. She understood how that could have been taken the wrong way. "I uh, I manifested at sixteen, but I went to St. Bethany and transferred to America at sixteen." The kind of life Chandler had been talking about happened to be a certain, very pretty, blonde. She wasn't about to say that, of course. She offered the girl something of an awkward smile. "Sorry about that." She felt a little bad about her obvious lack in communication skills, but she couldn't really blame the girl for misunderstanding.
Stopping when the other girl did, she took a moment to look around. She still felt lost, but at least she had a little more knowledge about the layout than what she had had only moments before. She looked at the door then, brows furrowing. "Yeah," she said, dragging the words out. "Not my favorite spot either," she added with a simple shrug. "I think I'm good." She had never been much of a study. Nor a reader. The closest she came to touching anything made of paper was while drawing or painting.
She noticed the way her eyebrows rose at her words and Chandler's first instinct was to reach out. But that was what had gotten her in this mess in the first place, was it not? It seemed safter to just keep her distance. Maybe it wasn't what was the kindest thing to do, but it felt like the best thing to do. Callie glanced around then and Chandler took the moment to study the blonde; She looked older, barely, but still the same. "Yeah," she said silently. "Some things never change."
Chandler didn't know whether she felt relieved or disappointed when the blonde announced her departure. But she was in the middle of class it seemed. It would be unfair to keep her. "Can't leave your students hanging too long," she mused, a smile touching the corners of her lips.
The brunette's attention turned back to the blonde then, brows furrowing. A silent sigh fell from her lips at the words and she could feel the muscles in her stomach clench. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. She'd have preferred getting yelled at instead. It would have made it easier for Chandler to stay pissed instead of feeling guilty. "Yeah," she said, dragging the word out. She pressed her lips into a hard line. Certain things had never come easy to the brunette. Especially not when it made her feel vulnerable. She couldn't get the words out. Not the right ones anyway. "You should, uh, get back to your students." She cast her gaze away. "I'll see you around, yeah?"
Again, she laughed. "Alright, fine." She could have argued. She could have demanded the girl's name, but really, what was the point? She enjoyed this simple game of cat and mouse. It was fun. It was relaxing. She didn't want to take that away from either of them. Now, patience had never been a virtue Chandler had been associated with, but she could play nice.
Shaking her head no, Chandler was reminded of that one time she'd eaten so much sugar she'd thrown up. "I'm more of a salt kind of gal." Chips, food - anything with salt in it she loved. Bacon was a favorite. "So help yourself," she added. What she wouldn't do for a bag of chips and some ice tea right now, though. She had to hit the store before retiring for the night.
The girl was oddly positive. It made Chandler realize she had a lot of negativity in her life. It was refreshing, she supposed, if nothing else. Stretching her arms above her head, she pursed her lips. "Yeah, well, you haven't burned down their kitchen yet, have you?" She looked at the girl, offering her a smirk. She didn't think anyone would be let back in again after such a disaster.
Chandler had always been a lover of the arts. She had spent many hours of her life drawing and painting and at sixteen, she'd taken up photography. She'd also been a dancer, when she'd first attended Bellefonte, and well, she'd loved that too. She followed the girl's hands as they moved through her hair, changing the colors of the already boldly colored hair. Chandler's jaw dropped a fraction as she watched, entranced. "Damn," she whispered. "That is pretty cool." She was tempted to touch the girl, just so she could mimic the ability for herself. Oh, the things she could've done with that kind of power...
"Photography," she offered. "Been into it since I was about sixteen, but then... Life happened." She supposed that made her a late bloomer. "So, here I am."
It was then perhaps a good thing that Chandler had never been the shy one. She had mellowed out over the years, but shy has never been a word someone would use to describe her. Not even now. "Chandler," she offered. She would have offered her hand too, but the girl seemed occupied with her cakes. "Just like the guy from that show," she added with a shrug. That was something she'd heard so often, offering it up along with her name felt like second nature. "And yours?"
She followed the movements of the girl, brown eyes closely noting the way her arms moved. Chandler had never been one for cooking. It was one of those things her father had been good at, and her mother completely useless at. She'd inherited her mother's genes on that. "I'd probably burn down their kitchen and never get invited back," she said, mimicking the girl's own smile. But that was fine.
"What do you study?" she asked, then furrowed her brows. She'd assumed the girl was a college student, but these days, teens looking nothing like they had when Chandler had been young. The girl could have been sixteen for all Chandler knew. "If you do study anything, that is," she quickly added.
Would it be unfair to deny the blonde such a simple gesture? It was none less personal to show Callie her work, when she was right here doing the exact same thing. Perhaps the brunette was giving it too much thought, but then again, that was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Had Chandler let well enough alone, maybe she wouldn't have left in the first place. "Yeah, sure." It wasn't as much a definite promise as it was a maybe, but it was hard to promise something you didn't know you could keep.
Who knew where the two of them would be in a week from now? Maybe this was all there would be to it. Chandler wasn't even sure if she was interesting in reconnecting with the blonde. But then, she was here, was she not?
"No," she replied before she could even consider the question. It came too quickly. Sucking in a breath of air, she continued. "I was feeling nostalgic." After all, she'd spent quite a few sessions dancing in the old school's auditorium. "But I suppose it's silly. It's not even the same room."
She was happy for her. Claiming anything else would have made her a scorn hypocrite. She was exactly that, but she didn't have to show it. Besides, something like this, working with other people and teaching them the one thing you did perfectly... Well, Chandler could see why she'd picked it. It was fitting. Really fitting.
The conversation then turned, the arrow now pointing at Chandler herself. She offered her a one shoulder shrug. She could have lied, but there was hardly any point in it. Callie would have found out sooner or later. "For as long as it takes me to graduate," she offered instead.
Had she ever told Callie about her passion for taking photography, or had their entire relationship consisted of dancing, cheating and hooking up? "I'm studying photography here now."
Chandler knew better. She knew that the blonde never said or did anything out of spite, but even the brunette couldn't help raising her eyebrows at the statement. She was tempted to speak up, say something. Anything. She kept her mouth shut instead, her lips flattened into a hard line. She knew better.
Callie tried to have her face and all Chandler could do was stare. She needed to let it go. It didn't matter. She didn't want to know. Not about him.
"And you got yourself a fancy teaching job in the process." She nodded towards what she assumed was the blonde's students. It seemed like the safer topic. The healthier choice. "Good for you." It felt awkward. It felt strained. But at least they were acting like adults. That had to count for something.
Eyes fell back to the blonde, just like they always had. She had that kind of magnetism that made it hard to keep your eyes away from her for too long. Then again, maybe Chandler was just biased. Even now. It seemed as if the blonde had something to say, but decided not to. She wasn't about to press her.
Chandler felt a sudden urge to be childish. To point out that she wasn't here for her, or that she didn't know how long she'd stay, but really, what was the point? What good would that even do, besides making things more awkward than what they already were. "Yep," she said instead, offering the blonde a shrug.
Nonchalance was likely the better route to travel.
"So are you." She didn't know if she'd expected Callie to stay around after the move.
Chandler actually laughed at that. "Yeah, you did," she admitted freely. Hey, she'd give it to the girl; she'd been right, and Chandler wasn't about to take that moment away from her. It didn't even irk her, which was probably more surprising than the taste of the cupcakes.
The laughter bubbled down into a sheepish smile and all Chandler could do was shrug. "None taken," she promised. She looked back at the label she'd studied before. Couldn't they at the very least have kept the same layout? It had taken her long enough to figure that one out and now she had to do it all again?
She wiped her hands clean off of her pants. She took a moment to study the girl then. She was pretty, in an nontraditional kind of way, with blue-grayish eyes and colored hair that, unlike most, actually suited her. An offer was handed out and Chandler didn't need more than a moment to decide. "Yeh, sure," she replied. If it had been Chandler, she would have told the lost soul to suck it and leave them to their faith. Clearly, she didn't deserve this, but she was happy to accept nonetheless.
It was in that moment Chandler felt grateful she hadn't been given empathy as a power when she'd manifested. Even without it she could sense the intense emotions in the room, but maybe that was just her. Her chest tightened and she could feel the cold claw of anxiety scrape along her insides. She did her best not to let it show. She'd always been good at that, she thought, hiding her emotions.
Chandler sunk into the chair, propping her legs up on the seat in front of her. She didn't drop her gaze when the blonde moved, but she did have to take a deep breath, as if preparing herself. She was reeling.
Maybe she would have preferred it if she'd stayed down there a little while longer. But then again, maybe Chandler was being more of a coward than she cared to admit. "Hey," she said once the blonde reached her. Her head tilted in curiosity as she finally broke eye contact and looked behind her, staring at the people on the stage. "You're a teacher now."
She hadn't expected to be seen. Not really. It seemed as if the group and their teacher had their hands full. She would never have blamed her for not noticing and in truth, maybe it had been better if she didn't. It took the blonde a while and while Chandler could still enjoy being nothing more than a fly on the wall, she spent the time watching.
She was as graceful as ever, if not more. The way her body moved had been entrancing even back then. She couldn't pull her gaze away.
Their eyes locked and for a brief moment, Chandler felt the urge to stand, walk away and never look back. Instead, she put two fingers to her forehead and as one corner of her mouth tugged upwards, she offered the blonde a salute. It seemed like the safer option.
Perhaps it was the girl's demeanor that won her over, or perhaps Chandler didn't have the heart to say no. Whatever the reason might have been, Chandler accepted the cupcake with a small smile. Holding it in her hand, she looked it over. It looked nothing like those cupcakes you often see when scrolling down your Facebook feed. The kind of baked miracles that make you wonder how in the world someone were able to make them. "Thank you," she replied, lifting her gaze from the cupcake and back to the girl.
The girl was eating them, so naturally the taste couldn't be bad. She took a bite then. And then another. And then a third. "Huh," she said once finished, licking the icing off from the tips of her fingers. "Not what I expected."
"Mmm," she mused, "You could say that, yeah." It seemed pointless to deny it. The girl had already hit the nail on the head and even Chandler saw no reason to act prideful. "This is my first time here." She narrowed her eyes then. "After the move, I mean."
