Oh, Caleb reads tarot. And tea leaves! And ....spilled blood! And pretty much any other kind of -mancy you can attach a prefix to, it's good times. He mock-agonizes, squinty eyes wry. "That's charitable of you - I'd hate to spoil a good impression when we're getting along so well."
Apparently that's what that lean means. Which he continues doing, zen in this proximity. "And there's no face about freshman," although there is idle wondering about age, just in the background, "or--well, I guess there are exaggerated grimaces of pity. You know, big eyes, hand to heart--" He affects this with not much exaggeration at all; his eyes only get so big. "Of course, that's assuming you're new. How are you finding the whole mystery mindfuck?"
The creeping shit in the darkness, for instance! "I've lived here a couple years, you can tell because I don't flinch when I declare my major anymore."