trapped; in the closet! [zach]

It was the first weekend of the new school year, but, with Isaac so wrapped up in some symphony or another, and really no whim to drive out to town on her own, Isabelle had chosen to stay at school and get ahead on some classwork. Shakespeare in the Sun was full and kicking, and the upperclassmen's performance at the back-to-school picnic had been outstanding. So it was with fervor that Isabelle had flown through an abnormally busy school, most of the students choosing to stay at Harriman while they were still getting settled in to being back at school, in order to raid the costume closet for an appropriately grandiose production of maybe Taming of the Shrew, she hadn't decided yet.

Either way, she was still in a comedy mood, so as she made her way to the tech room, long legs bare in short red shorts in honor of the sunny weekend, a pair of strappy sandles padding the sounds of her footsteps as she trod down the theater wing hallway, and a quirky lazy-day t-shirt on her torso, Izz let her arms swing at her sides as she turned into the unlocked Tech room, making her way quietly to the back corner and slipping between the costumes with ease. By leaving the door ajar it was unnecessary to flip the light on, and Isabelle was content to move among the huge racks, her feet hidden by the long costumes, barely even visible amongst the tightly packed costumes.

Humming to herself a little, Izz fingered a piece of deep red velvet, her blue eyes examining the pattern on the sleeve as she stood on her tiptoes to check the tag for the size. It looked like it might fit, bit may be a little big in the waist... however, of course, if she had a hoop skirt on it might not really matter... So lost in thought and the costume closet, pretty deep by now, actually, that she didn't even notice the sound of another person entering the costume closet as she moved silently onto another costume, an even more embellished purple gown with silver and flowery details. It really depended on whichever play, she supposed, but either way it was Renaissance Italy now wasn't it...? Gently she nibbled on her lower lip, bending one knee and resting her heel on top of the opposite foot, jutting her hip out as she stood there in contemplation, facing towards the back of the closet.

His hair had been even more cooperative than usual when he'd gotten up this morning; it hadn't taken more than a few expert touches with his comb before he was looking good and set to roll. Any day that wasn't a bad hair day was a good day (whoa, that was a lot of days in one sentence) for Zach Peters, and the newly-turned freshman was feeling exceptionally smug as he wandered around the school, reacquainting himself with the Dali wing before turning towards the theatre tech room. Some of the costumes that had been used during the play at the back-to-school picnic several days ago had been delightfully frivolous, and he had decided to snag himself maybe a hat or doublet from the costume closet in honour of the new school year. No one would notice, he was sure, not even if he ventured to turn up in the same garb for theatre classes, there was just that many of them. Besides, the closet in the tech room was starting to run out of space, he was really doing everyone a favour. Obviously.

For the moment he was dressed simply, in a pair of baggy shorts and plain white tshirt, with his beat-up converses scuffing along on the ground as he strolled into the enormous tech room, hands stuck casually in his pockets. Pausing, Zach took a moment to survey the room fondly before turning left to walk into the adjoining costume-filled closet. Oddly enough the door was partly open; he eyed it for a brief moment with a quirked eyebrow. Well this was unexpected, he hadn't thought anyone in the school would be interested in costumes so early into the school year. Wasn't everyone off in town right now? Right, so he wasn't either and was about to dive into a sea of costumes himself, but that was a different story altogether- he needed something appropriately fabulous to go with his supremely fabulous hair! It was a perfectly reasonable excuse, thank you very much.

Curious to see who was trespassing on his precious space (that's right, his space), Zach slipped through the narrow opening easily and ventured down the first line of racks, listening intently and looking around for any sign of the invader as he walked. His search for the costume still held top priority though, so without bothering to glance at the costumes surrounding where he stood he headed directly for the racks carrying Shakespearean-type clothing- he had visited the place so often in the last year that he knew exactly where to go. Passing by a row of floor-length dresses, he stopped dead at the sight of the mysterious invader. Her back was to him, but it only took a quick once-over for him to recognize those legs who she was. Mm, what an opportunity. Grinning sharply he stepped forward, leaning lazily against the end of the clothing rack. "I didn't realise we'd arranged a secret rendezvous today," he drawled slyly. "Though you didn't have to pose for me, Izzy baby."

At the sound of the painfully familiar voice Isabelle wheeled around, her heart leaping in her chest with mixed shock and excitement at being caught in this situation with Zach, as well as just a tinge of disgust, but changing to fear as her sandal slipped on the wood floor and she fell backwards. With a lard bang! Isabelle crashed hard against the back of the closet, her hair falling in her face and her long legs splayed everywhere as she groaned in mixed pain and embarassment. After a long moment of collecting her thoughts and deep breathing, she pulled herself up using the bar of the closest rack, smoothing down her shirt and shorts and fixing her hair carefully with long, pale fingers.

Debating whether to huff in indignation or smile and pretend she'd meant to fall like an idiot, Isabelle chose instead to play it as cool as she could. "Don't flatter yourself," she said calmly, avoiding his perfect brown eyes in favor of the sleeve of a nearby Western costume, her icy blue ones nervous as they stared hard at the plaid fabric of the sleeve, her fingers finding their way to feel the smooth fabric absentmindedly. All over, the girl was tense, suddenly immensely aware of how bare her long legs were. A rare self-conscious moment overtook her and Isabelle found herself wondering if maybe she had cellulite, resisting as hard as she could the urge to turn around and look at her butt to make sure it wasn't too large. Playing it cool, playing it cool, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath before stepping forward in the awkward moment and practically bowling Zach over as she pushed past him.

"What are you doing in the costume closet?" she asked, trying her hardest to sound disinterested, though it was clearly her turn in the cycle to be the one who was crazy about the other. Truth be told, she had actually missed the little freshman fish over the summer, and had even thought about calling or texting him a few times, but instead spent hours staring at her phone nervously before setting it down and walking away. Isaac had even walked in on her doing it a few times, and she was certain he thought that something was tragically wrong with her, that perhaps she'd finally snapped and thought magic little men were living in her phone and talking to her. With a look that was far too deliberate she turned around to face Zach, afterwards consciously making an effort to seem more relaxed, less interested, less fully aware of the fact that they were maybe a foot away from each other.

Doubled over laughing as he was over her clumsiness, Zach still couldn't help but notice everything about Izz's appearance; her slender figure and long dancer's legs, accentuated by the shorts she wore, her fair skin, and her face, half hidden by those long wavy brown locks. He had seen her at the back to school picnic of course, but in the excitement of catching up with everyone and everything (and also just to see how much it would annoy her) hadn't really paid her much attention aside from the customary semi-complimentary, semi-insulting, mostly lame remarks he so enjoyed shooting at her. Now with just the two of them present- in a closet, no less- there were no such distractions, and he had to inwardly admit to himself that she, well, looked good. Better than ever, in fact, it seemed like the summer had been good for her. Surprisingly he had caught himself thinking about her occasionally during the summer, though as per usual he hadn't actually bothered with keeping in touch with anyone from school. Apparently he'd missed her more than he'd realised, since he was pretty happy about this chance encounter- and no, it had nothing to do with their current location, not at all, of course not, no way, nope.

Straightening, he turned to watch her as she pushed past him roughly, continuing to rest his arm on the rack carelessly. "You didn't have to fall over for me either, but I appreciate the gesture," he commented idly, completely brushing off her putdown as if she hadn't said it at all. At her question he made an exaggerated show of looking around the closet, feigning suprise, pulling out a dress at random with one hand and staring at it mock-foolishly. "Wow look, we're in a costume closet!" he exclaimed, "Where people go to look for.. oh, I dunno, costumes?" Cocking his head to one side he gave her the insufferable smirk that only seemed to emerge in her presence; he might have missed her a little over the holidays, but that didn't mean he was going to fall over himself with joy now, even if she just had done that herself. It was inevitable, he simply thrived on irritating the hell out of her.

He also thrived on invading her personal space, and so with his smirk widening visibly Zach shoved the hanger carrying the dress back onto the rack and stepped forward, closing most of the distance between them. Ah, this was fun and she smelt pretty. Deliberately prowling around her in a close circle as though she were some sort of prey, he bit back a laugh at the notion of Isaac walking in on the two of them now- the poor boy would probably spontaneously combust from the shock. Oh well, what he didn't know wouldn't make him explode. Coming to a halt in front of her again he shrugged, still smirking, and spoke. "You don't have to hide how pleased you are to see me, don't worry. I already know you've been dying to anyway, that's why you texted me practically the second you got back." His hand itched to reach out and tug on her hair, partly to see if it was softer than his, partly because he just wanted to for some reason, but Zach held back for the moment. There was plenty of time, they had plenty of time. Not to mention a whole lot of privacy.

As the same old sarcastic Zach returned Izz scolded herself for missing him, for letting her heart race when she found herself in such close quarters with him, and she found it surprisingly easy to sigh at his antics, remembering exactly why it was she HADN'T texted him over the summer. He was such an idiot, and as he went on about how obvious it should be WHY he was in a costume closet, Isabelle's face flushed with embarassment. How was she supposed to know that he was looking for costumes?! What on earth would he even be looking for costumes for? It was COMPLETELY bizarre for her to be running into him here, whether or not he would admit it. It was becoming steadily easier for the previous tension in her muscles to melt away as he went on. And then all at once, he swooped in.

Evidently in their cat and mouse game, it was Isabelle's turn to be mouse, and she did not like it one bit. Nervously she backed up against the costume rack, almost falling through again before she caught her balance and his torso was pressed against hers. Despite the fact that she stood two whole inches taller than the boy, she was immensely intimidated as he closed the space between them to a more than intimate distance, the sweet and at the same time musky smell of him drifting up into her face as her bright blue eyes were held pathetically by his own brown ones.

What was he playing at? He ALWAYS did this! Isabelle scolded herself internally but was completely under his control, breathing weakly, legs a little shaky as she felt how warm his skin was. She couldn't help but bring a hand up and mess with a strand of his hair nervously, amazed at how soft it was, worrying if maybe it was softer than hers. Resisting the urge to feel her own hair and check, Isabelle instead glared at him slightly with his accusation, "I did NOT text you the second I got back! It was very prolonged... I don't even think it was the first day back...!" though the statement was more like a question to herself as she tried to think back, her hand still resting on Zach's shoulder, fingers touching his hair, unnoticed.

Belatedly Zach discovered that perhaps, just perhaps, it hadn't been the wisest decision to move in that way. To be sure he'd done it eight times out of ten whenever they'd bumped into each other, or been thrown together, or simply had similar incidents like this last year, but after two whole months or so of not being around her practically all the time he had forgotten how it always felt when he did so. The impact was stronger than he'd been expecting and had prepared for; the old rush that hit him felt like the time he hadn't been paying attention to what he had been doing and had ended up getting smacked on the head by an exceptionally heavy piece of canvas, except that this time around there would be no half-finished painting ruined or bruises covering the centre of his forehead. He had initiated this and he could tell- a fact which did wonders for his already inflated ego- that he was still in better control of the current situation compared to Izz, but Zach could still hear his own breathing quicken as her hand toyed with his hair.

She was still taller than he was even after the extra height he'd put on over the summer, he noticed absently, trying and failing to ignore the light pressure she was seemingly keeping on his shoulder unintentionally. Her uncertain quasi-retort jolted him back to his senses somewhat- clearly the compulsion to get to her before she could get to him was so deeply ingrained by now that it had become automatic; odd really, considering how the two of them had only first met barely a year ago. "So you were trying to prolong things?" he murmured, still mulling over the realisation. Just exactly how had Izz become such a core part of his life at Harriman? And not just Izz- Isaac too. All in what? nine, ten months? Everything- their initial meeting, the constant fighting that had immediately followed, the confusingly repetitive cycle- had flashed by so quickly. And.. damn, why was he getting so philosophical suddenly?

Shaking it off hastily Zach pulled his eyes away from the expressive blue ones he had been staring into for the past few minutes. His gaze flickered downwards and sideways before focusing on a spot just behind her head as he waited for the mental buzz of questions to subside. Jeez, she affected him far too much, his only consolation was that she didn't get away scot free with it either. Glancing back at her face again his attention was temporarily caught by her dark hair. Was that her shampoo he could smell? Unable to help himself (it had to do with hair after all, that was important too!) he leaned closer and sniffed lightly, brow furrowing slightly as he tried to identify the subtly tangy scent. "Did you change shampoos?" he asked, genuinely curious, sniffing again.

Isabelle's heart was pounding in her ears and her stomach was doing sommersaults as she attempted to stammer out an answer to his question about prolonging things, unable to pull her lips apart, hardly able to breathe as he moved even closer, the space between them completely sealed. Looking down at the slightly shorter boy, the lightheadedness beginning to set in, her long legs growing shaky, the twin was awakened sharply by his strange question.

Changed shampoos? In her lovestruck haze Isabelle could barely handle this, and they were so close together she could barely figure out how to answer or what he could possibly have meant by it as he grabbed a strand of her hair, her hand still resting complacently on his shoulder. In a flurry of nervous motion she pulled it down, but her arm was caught under his and her hand was trapped between them as she attempted to clear her head enough to respond.

"Sh-shampoos? " she stuttered in her confused fog, shaking her head sleepily, pressed against the costume rack bar to steady herself, the urge to grab zach and kiss him until he couldn't see straight sit down and stop her head from its dizzy swimming was overwhelming. After a deep breath, Isabelle could manage to stand, clinging as subtly as she could to Zach as the sobering affect of his strange question washed over her.

"Um, yeah, I did..." she said with a raised eyebrow, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully as her blue eyes flitted around the costume closet anxiously. Nearest exit about eight feet behind her. Trapped against the costume rack. No escape obvious, other than kneeing him in the crotch and running like mad.

With a sigh, Izz blinked her eyes a few more times to clear her head just a little more, looking down at him. "Herbal Essences Frizz managing one... I think it's... mango.." She spoke the words deliberately, slowly, brain moving in time with them as they escaped from her lips. Wow, that had sounded dumb.

"Why are we in a closet talking about... haircare?" Isabelle looked down at the younger boy, raising her eyebrow again, in amusement this time, and breathing in deeply. Zach smelled good.

Ah, now she'd done it. His momentary preoccupation with her hair and shampoo faded abruptly away as she fidgeted. Zach knew it was more than likely she was trying to move away from him, but it was just as obvious that she was doing a poor job. He held himself still as she clutched at him- maybe she didn't realise she was doing it, or maybe he just wasn't supposed to notice how she was holding on to him, but with him currently so aware of her presence, it was practically impossible not to. Magnetically his eyes drifted back up to the familiar, expressive baby blues, watching the play of emotions running clearly through them. She looked nervous. That was good- for him. It wouldn't do at all if she were entirely comfortable with their current positions, that would mean she'd somehow turned the tables on him. To be honest Zach hadn't the faintest idea why he didn't like that thought; he simply didn't, and that was that. It was all part of their little game of circling round and round each other, to his mind. Right now, he prefered being the role of hunter, not prey.

Once again his reactions were involuntary, like a knee-jerk reflex, requiring little to no thought at all in responding to her words. His lips curled up in a grin at the dumbstruck, almost drunken way she was speaking, emanating satisfaction despite the way his skin continued to be ridiculously hypersensitive, the fine hairs on his arms prickling at the lack of distance between them. The additional height she had on him went unnoticed as he absorbed their closeness, the accompanying whoosh of hidden excitement, the whiff of mango scent... distracted by it all, it took a delayed moment before her last question registered with him. Zach paused; then shrugged casually. "Why not?" he replied, still looking directly at her flawless face, lifting one eyebrow as well.

Pausing again, this time to actually think about and reassess the situation they were in, he eyed Isabelle thoughtfully. Fact number one, they were alone in the costumes closet, and he doubted anyone would happen to catch them in here. Fact number two, she appeared to be delightfully unsettled by their close proximity to each other. Fact number three, as usual when that happened, he just couldn't resist trying to see how much further he could taunt her. Okay, so that didn't take much considering either, but whatever. His contemplative expression replaced by his previous smirk, Zach promptly raised both arms, resting his palms against the costumes rack behind her. It was a slightly silly picture- a skinny freshman trying to corner the taller sophomore- since he still had to look up at her. Undaunted, he merely tilted his head, bringing it within inches to hers. "So if not about haircare," he drew out each word, "what should we talk about, then?"

He was having way too much fun with her, and inside Isabelle was shrieking at herself for allowing this little game to be played with her. Even though she was at least two inches taller than him, and even though she was older, and definitely more popular, and clearly more attractive, he had her completely under his fingers. She didn't like it at all. As much as she usually liked being prey, it was only when she was secretly hunter that she felt comfortable. Being forced to squirm like this was just absolute torture. Especially by Zach Peters.

Ugh this was so horrible. Isabelle could feel her chest rising and falling faster the closer he scooted to her. Why was she so unnerved by Zach? Probably because she was scared. She'd only ever dated "cool" guys, as opposed to guys who just thought they were cool. After a few months with Leo last year, her first real relationship, she'd dawdled around with a few Connecticut boys during the summer, most of them too obsessed with their parents' yacht and their trust fun and vaca. at St. Barth's to really be compelling.

But if those "cool" rich boys weren't interesting, then why exactly was she taking such interest in Zach Peters? True, they'd had a circle of love and hate since they were young, but that didn't mean she, like, wanted him or anything. Izz bit her lip and knit her eyebrows together in agony, whining a little under her breath. Oh god, did she like Zach? Oh god, no, please, anything but that.

But it was more than evident in the closet that she was under his power. They were in a costume closet on a Saturday, they probably wouldn't be disturbed, and he knew it. He was going to draw it out, to send her in turmoil, to make her squirm a bit. But why didn't it bother her more? She should be repulsed by his proximity! A freshman! And that hair! And that great big smile as he realized just what he was doing to her that just made her melt a little inside.

As he pinned her against the costume rack Isabelle began to just feel warm. What else were they supposed to talk about? Ugh how about politics, the weather, their grandmothers, anything but the fire spreading up her body to her face. She could feel herself blushing, which she almost never did, and looking down her nose just slightly into the eyes of that vexing boy. As he tilted his face forward into hers it was maddening, and she tried to recoil but the rack was in the way. There was absolutely zero space between them, his knee was poking between hers, and their faces were mere inches apart. Isabelle moved her blue eyes to look up at the ceiling, begging forgiveness from God for what she was about to do.

In one fluid movement she slid her hands up from Zach's chest around his neck, leaning her face down and pressing her lips to his roughly. The result was much like eating really fattening Haagen-Dazs when you knew you had a recital on the weekend; you really knew you shouldn't,that it was bad for you, but it was so good how could you stop? As soon as her lips touched his, a small whimper erupted from Isabelle's throat and she pulling him to her, as if it did much considering the space between them was already practically eliminated.

While it was probably well under a minute, Isabelle's fattening little give-in seemed to last for much, much longer. Forcefully she had to pull herself out of her reverie, pulling back sleepily to look down at Zach. Oh god. No. What had she done? With a groan she ducked under his arm, heading for the doorway before turning around. "Um..." she began, but having nothing better to say than what had, most unfortunately, gone unsaid, she threw a pathetic wave at Zach before high-tailing it out of the costume closet and the theater classroom, her hand to her lips the entire way back to her dorm. Ugh, did she like him?

A heady mix of confidence and satisfied triumph rushed through him as he watched the effect he was having on her- her expression twisting as she clearly realised he had her trapped, the pace of her breathing increasing audibly, her flushed cheeks, the confused- maybe even panicked- eyes. It was a chauvinistically arrogant thing to do, but Zach was enjoying every moment of it, every damn second. He was in charge. He was in control. He was getting back at her for being such a stuckup theater queen last year. He was winning this round. And then she was wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning forward, erasing the last of the already practically nonexistent distance between their faces and.. kissing him almost violently. It jerked an involuntary, startled exclamation out of him but with her lips against his the sound was muffled; then he was being tugged even closer to her and Zach distantly realised he was doing the same, his right arm was around her waist and pressing her to him. He wasn't thinking about games anymore, or about messing with Isabelle, or about what the hell they were doing; actually he wasn't thinking much at all. Her lips were soft, the hazy observation passed through the back of his mind fleetingly, gone in the next milisecond.

Without warning Izz ripped away, and he blinked stupidly at her, his sluggish mind still not quite up to speed on what had just happened. Making no move to block her escape, Zach simply turned around to stare after her retreating figure, not acknowledging her sad attempt at saying something or her feeble wave. Had she just- what- did they- he gaped dumbly at the open closet door as she hastily disappeared, mouth opening and closing ridiculously like the silly goldfish his mother insisted on keeping back home for reasons he'd never been able to understand. Izz had just kissed him. What the hell?

Abruptly, he snapped out of his stupor, shaking his head furiously as he strode towards the exit, having latched onto the easiest explanation. He'd been had. She'd somehow managed to trick him right out of his victory, and now she'd made a run for it before he could grab it back. Manipulating little.. Zach paused midstep, recalling the dismayed groan she'd emitted before leaving, his forehead creasing into a frown. Augh, now he was confused. What was Izz playing at?

She'd had really soft lips, though.

What? No! Zach shook his head vehemently again to rid himself of the thought, before belatedly realising how it would mess up his hair. Great, he was so bothered about this that he'd even forgotten about making sure it remained in its perfect condition for the day. Now that was wrong, just wrong. Come on, this was nothing to get so worked up about. One quick snog, easily dismissed; it wasn't like he'd never done it before. And it wasn't like he.. liked Izz. Did h- Oh hell no, he wasn't even going to think the question. He didn't, that was that. So there was tension between them, whatever you wanted to call it, fine, but only because she was so damn high-and-mightly all the time and he couldn't resist picking on her for it. They'd been throwing insults and suggestive propositions at each other in equal amounts right from the start, much to Isaac's suffering, but that didn't mean anything. They were friends, yeah, and that was it. End of story. Done.

Pleased with his conclusion, Zach nodded firmly to himself once and finally resumed walking, opting to head back towards the art classrooms again instead of going after Isabelle. He wasn't entirely sure where she'd gone, but it was a pretty safe bet she wouldn't have chosen the Dali wing. There was nothing to worry about of course, but just in case he planned to stay away from her for the next few days. Or weeks. Only to avoid any further confrontations, though. Getting into another one so soon would be awkward, and he didn't do awkward.

Exhaling loudly, Zach lenghtened his stride. God, he really needed to paint.