... same old Caleb. It was almost comforting, for all that his insistence on putting himself last infuriated her; it would have been so much weirder if he'd just accepted that she wanted to be here, helping her friend adjust to the insanity of Night Vale. "Yeah, no, fuck that. It'll keep. You literally just got here, dude."
So she sat, and listened, and.... oh. Oh fuck. Clearly, she'd missed some crazy shit. She had questions, of course - she wouldn't have been much of an Expositor if not - but filed them away for later, limiting herself to a pained drawn-through-teeth hiss here, a muttered "... shit, Caleb" there. And maybe her chair migrated closer to his through the course of the tale, and her hand ended up resting on his shoulder, because oh fuck she understood that blush somewhere deep in her gut, even if her brain hadn't quite caught up to its full implications.
"Look, Caleb, you could get sent back, like, tomorrow. Or he could. Because this whole place is a giant bag of dicks sometimes. And yeah, I get I am the Worst Possible Person to be saying you should just enjoy a thing while it lasts and not worry about how it's gonna end, but... it's really him, and he's really here, and that's pretty fucking good as far as our shitty luck goes."
She leant back, filling her own glass, her nonchalance slightly less obviously forced, though no less hollow, than his. Offering an escape route, should he choose to take it. " 'the fuck is Veth going to do with a school?"