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scribblis · 3 years

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Part 2

Sunday rolled around and with it came the study session with Shinsou. I know he said he didn't get it but....

"So there's descriptive and quantitative data, right?" I explain. "Quantitative data is numbers; a country's GDP, the number of miles someone drives for work, et cetera."

"Right," Hitoshi answered, looking over his notes.

"Descriptive data is about categories. Demographics, favorite tv shows, the types of electronics people have in their home, whether someone likes lemonade or not."

"Uh-huh. So which is better?"

I faltered. "In stats there's no real 'better.' We use the same basic stuff for it; mean, median, and mode, and numbers are usually easier to deal with, but descriptive statistics are really important! All of statistics is important."

"Uh-huh..."

We continued discussing the difference, trying different examples, until Hitoshi groaned. He rested his forehead on the table in front of him.

"Why do I have to study this? Can't shit like this stay to the people who do it?"

"Well..." I pause. I hope this doesn't come off as a lecture. "Learning about statistics is really important so you don't get fooled by purposefully misleading statistics or bad data."

Hitoshi looked up at me, an eyebrow raised. I took a breath and continued.

"Like....the differences between mode, median, and mean."

"Okay..."

"They're all different ways of describing different types of averages, and their differences are pretty important."

"Uh-huh...."

"Am I boring you?"

"No. Keep going."

The flat tone of his voice threw me off, but I took another breath and kept going.

"So....the way you calculate mean is you add up all the numbers and divide by the number of responses, you get, right? Say you're doing GPA in a class, you would add up all the GPAs and divide by the number of student, right?"

"Right."

"The issue with that is that the mean can be influenced heavily by really big or really small answers."

"Like?"

"Like, take house prices in a city, and most of the places are small, cozy family homes, but there's a couple multi-million dollar mansions also in that town. Those mansions shoot the mean up like crazy, and make it seem like most houses in that city are crazy expensive. In stats like those, it's better to go for the median."

"Uh-huh, refresh me on what the median is?"

"So you know when you're driving, and there's that little strip off grass dividing the street in the middle? That's also called a median. It's the number or average of numbers that are smack dab in the middle of the data. If you have 11 data points, you'd use the number that's 6th in numerical order."

"Okay. And mode?"

"Mode is just the number or points that show up must often."

"Why would you ever need to know that?"

"Well....say you're trying to see how many murders the average prison inmate has committed. Your mode would probably be zero. That's important, because that points to the fact that the majority of inmates are non-violent offenders."

"Ugh, why can't've Dr. Nezu just explained it like that?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes professors are just so used to teaching a certain way that they don't really deviate."

After those explanations, he seemed to get it, and we completed the homework pretty quickly, to my disappointment.

"Hey," Hitoshi said suddenly. "Your friends mentioned you smoke..?"

"Oh! Just weed!" I said rushedly. "I mean, it's legal, and I don't smoke when I go to class or anything, just like, y'know. To relax or when I have pain or just wanna hang out."

"No judgement, just seems fun. I've never done it, maybe I should try."

"Oh, absolutely! It's great for stress and anxiety, and stuff. I'd start out with edibles, because you know exactly how much you're ingesting. But definitely have someone there to dose you if you're smoking. Also, if you have sensitive lungs, stay away from bongs."

Hitoshi looked at me, amused. "Are you always like this?" He asked, a small grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

I bristled slightly. "Like what..?" I asked, confused.

"You're always like....I don't know. You're always ready to educate or elaborate everything. It feels like you know so much about everything."

I reddened slightly, focusing my gaze on the table. "I, uh, I guess I like knowing things?"

"It's not a bad thing, it's actually pretty cool. It makes me curious what you're like when you're high," he said, his voice purposefully light, like he was holding back an implication. I pushed that thought it of my mind as soon as it came in. But...

Oh god. Me, high around Hitoshi...? My mind flashed to a bunch of embarrassing things I did high. I laughed nervously. "Oh, please, I dou—"

"Would you dose me?"

"What?"

"You mentioned I should have someone dose me if I wanted to try. You seem cool, I'd trust you for my first high," he said casually, starting to pack up.

"I, uhm, sure? I-I don't know if I'm the be—"

"How long have you been smoking?"

"A couple years..."

"Then you have plenty of experience," Hitoshi said, matter of fact. "I have nothing but faith in you." Having packed up, he patted my shoulder, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Don't doubt yourself so much."

Dumbfounded, all I could do was stare at his retreating figure as he walked away. Oh god. What was I going to do?

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scribblis · 3 years

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The next couple weeks fly by without incident, and it slowly gets easier to talk to Hitoshi. Normally it's just a friendly greeting or talking about the reading, but the butterflies never stop. Plus, in our intro to psych class he sat all the way across the room, but with him up close and personal, it's easier to notice all his small tells. In addition to raking his hand through his hair and pushing it back, he also mainly used clicky pens, and rubbed the sides of his feet together when he was trying to figure out how to word something. All these small details were endearing, even if the basement crew teased me when I brought it up.

"Your three-page reaction to the Stanford Prison Experiment is due next class, remember that I only take work that is double-spaced in 12 point font, and yes, I can tell when you use a bigger or wider font in order to cover any shortcomings," Aizawa stated flatly. "Also, I'm sure some of you saw on your way to class, but the club rush event started about a half hour ago. The school shelled out money for carnival vendors, though why is beyond me," he continued, grumbling the last part more to himself than anything.

That caught my interest, and as Aizawa dismissed us, chatter started up, a bunch of people immediately discussing it.

"Where on campus is it?" I asked the girl who sat in front of me, but it was Hitoshi who answered.

"It's in the quad with that weird sculpture in the middle. Y'know, the one that changes color?"

The benefit of being at a small, liberal university was that the campus was vibrant, with murals on the walls, even on some dorms, and abstract art sculptures, some more eccentric than others. The sculpture Hitoshi was referring to was in the quad next to the library. It was a huge column of individually-rotating cubes that had different colors on every side of each cube. Each cube spun around on the metal lattice that stitched them together, the colors changing at the whim of the wind.

"Oh, I was going to head to the library anyways, I should stop by.," I said, stuffing my notebook in my backpack and standing up.

"Mind if I tag along?" Hitoshi asked. "My car's over that way anyways."

"Sure," I said, immediately feeling nervous. Thanks to years of masking, however, I doubt Hitoshi was aware. "I didn't know you drove."

Hitoshi shrugged on his grey hoodie before standing up, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder and pocketing his phone.

"Is that surprising?" He asked, an eyebrow arched.

"Oh, no!" I said quickly, easily falling into stride with him as we made our way towards the door. "I'm just always impressed when people can drive. I'm too anxious to drive. I tried to learn, but when I did I ran over a stop sign. Not ran a stop sign, ran over a stop sign. Driving is not for me."

Hitoshi snickered quietly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Fair enough, it's not for everyone. I learned when I was sixteen, kinda had to," he said casually. "It's not really that hard, to be honest it's kinda boring, especially if you're the only one in the car."

I made a face, and he noticed.

"What?" He asked.

"Everyone who drives tells me that," I replied, sticking my thumbs through the loops at the end of my backpack straps. "'It's not hard.' 'It gets boring after a while.' I get that it's menial, but I don't think I could ever relax behind the wheel, I'm too scared about hurting someone."

Hitoshi mulled it over for a second. "I guess that's fair. Sorry."

"Oh, I'm not too bothered by it," I said breezily, nudging his elbow with mine lightly and ignoring the butterflies that erupted. I hoped the gesture was casual, and besides, I had a sweater and he had a hoodie on, so our skin didn't even touch. Even still, he glanced down at his elbow when I nudged him, and for a split second I worried that I'd crossed boundaries, but he bumped my elbow back, a small grin gracing his face.

"Alright, if you insist," he replied. We kept chitchatting until the library quad came into view, the chatter of people and of rides and food vendors like chittering birds.

"Alis!" A voice called out from near the carnival, and Vibby and Hawks came over, the jingling of tokens getting slightly louder, and as they came closer I saw that they had small paper cups full of...tokens?

"You'll never guess what happened," Vibby said excitedly. "I got randomly selected to spin a prize wheel, and I won 1,000 tokens! The carnival is tokens only, so here!" She thrust one of the paper cups at me, the coins jingling as she shoved it into my hands.

"Hell yeah, awesome, thanks!" I beamed. "I wonder if they have a cotton candy machine...."

"They do," Hawks grinned widely, their eyes darting from me to Hitoshi, then back to me with a meaningful glance. I raised my eyebrow at them, subtly telling them to play it cool.

"They also have kettle corn, hot and fresh," Vibby singsonged, poking me lightly on the side. I jumped slightly, a small meep! escaping my throat.

"You really do have a sweet tooth," Hitoshi grinned I blushed slightly, hoping wasn't obvious.

"You have no idea, dude," Hawks grinned wider. "You should see shine high. I once watched shine eat 40 Oreos while waiting for pizza, which shine also ate a ton of."

I reddened slightly, flustered. "It was not forty. And that pizza was 40 minutes later than we were planning to eat."

"That's because we got super stoned and forgot to turn the oven on," Vibby defended me, thank God. "Anyways, we'll get out of your hair. Play some games! Win a prize! Go on the Ferris wheel!"

"Definitely," I promised. Hawks opened their mouth to say something, but Vibby grabbed their arm, dragging them away before they could say anything embarrassing. I made a mental note to thank Vibby later.

"Shall we?" I asked Hitoshi, jingling the paper cup.

"It would be a crime not to."

I grinned, following him through the throngs of people. We did a couple laps around, chitchatting and talking about everything and nothing, until I smelled it.

"You know," Hitoshi started, but the smell had captured my attention, "This almos—"

"Kettle corn."

"What?"

"Sorry, I got distracted, that kettle corn is tickling my nose in all the right ways, you were saying?" I asked sheepishly, looking over at the kettle corn stand wistfully.

"No, it's nothing," Hitoshi snickered. "C'mon, let's get you some kettle corn before it gets cold."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Your friend basically gave us free money, we might as well make the best use of it. Unless you have be somewhere, that is."

"Oh, nope! I mean, I've got some homework, the stats quiz corrections, but that can be done at 2am like always."

Hitoshi arched an eyebrow at me. "Fellow night owl?"

"Eh, insomniac. It comes and goes. They're are some nights I'm dozing at 8:40, other nights it's 4am before I even think about sleep."

"Ah. I think I'll keep to my solid 5 hours a night schedule," he joked, snorting slightly. "I couldn't take that much varience."

"Five hours isn't a lot."

"Are you going to lecture me?"

"You know, as an abnormal psych major—"

Hitoshi cut me off with a playful groan. "Spare me the armchair therapy."

"It's 10 tokens for a small bag, 15 for a large bag," the kettle corn worker interrupted, drawing us out of our conversation. We grabbed the kettle corn bags and proceeded to wander around again for a bit, before Hitoshi's phone starts buzzing. He pulls it and turns off the alarm, sighing.

"I've gotta go, I've got criminology in like ten minutes, sorry."

"Oh!" I replied, surprised. "No worries, I don't want you to miss class, don't worry about it."

"Yeah. Can you do me a favor?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think we could do the stats homework together this weekend? You definitely understand this standard deviation shit better than I do."

Did I hear right? Hitoshi...holy....I shake myself mentally, replying to him quickly.

"Absolutely! I'm free Sunday?"

"Cool. Meet at the library at 3?"

"Sounds good!"

"Great. I'll see you," he said briskly, slinging his messenger bag over his other shoulder, waving slightly over his shoulder as he walked off. I stood there, slightly dumbfounded, the kettle corn bag as warm as my cheeks in the late afternoon air.

That night, an emergency smoke sesh with the gang.

"Yes! Suck his dick!" Vibby cheered, giggling as she bit into her brownie. "I knew it was a good idea to give you tokens the second I saw you with him."

"Yeah, thanks for that!"

"Shame he couldn't stay for longer," Adgy lamented.

"What do you think he would've done if he didn't have to go?" Hawks grinned, sipping off their blunt. I took a bong hit as Cloudy responded.

"I bet you he'd do one of the carnival games and win Alis a prize!"

I spluttered, coughing up a storm, my head slightly dizzy.

"Please—spare my heart—" I wheezed as Vibby rubbed my back lightly.

"Nah, a classy dude like that, he'd take the ferris wheel and wait until they were at the top to ki—" Cloudy started.

"No!" I squeaked, burying my face in the couch cushion.

"How is he ever going to kiss you if you cover your face every time you think about kissing him?" Vibby teased.

"Maybe he'd kabe-don Alis so he couldn't get away."

I laid back and rolled to my side. "Guys I'm too high to be able to breathe and think about this!"

"Nah, you're not," Hawks chuckled. "You're dying and you want us to keep going."

I groaned, laying flat on my back. They weren't wrong.

"Shit! I'm going to be late!!" I yelled to no one in particular, getting my things together and cursing myself for the current predicament. You'd think I'd get it together by college, but i was as messy and jumbled as always.

The current predicament: I was late for a my first day of class, a class that was very important, since it was with Hitoshi Shinsou, aka the guy I'd been mad crushing on since two semesters ago. We were both humanities majors; him in criminology and forensics, me in sociology and abnormal psychology. We went to a small university in rural Oregon, with a small, dedicated staff and one main building for each individual colleges. And we were in the same STAT 305: Stats for Humanity major and PSYCH 706A: Critical Thinking in Psychology class this semester.

I grabbed everything I thought I needed, and rushed out of my room, grabbing an individual-wrapped brownie and a cotton candy energy drink from my fridge and stuffing them in my bag before rushing out the door, getting to the psych building with three minutes to spare.

I sighed, plopping into an empty desk somewhere in the middle-side of the classroom, glad the teacher was still not here. The psych professors at this college were all eccentric in their own rights, and I'd never had this professor before.

I caught my breath, scanning the room. Most everyone here was someone I knew or at least, I recognized their faces. This group of people tended to be serious, and brilliant, and I was confident it would be a good class. I sighed a breath of relief, getting my stuff ready. I pulled out my notebook for this class, turning it to the first lined page. I also pulled out two pens, a highlighter, and placed my brownie and my energy drink near the top of the desk to avoid spillage. I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I didn't even notice who came into the room.

"Excuse me," a deep, instantly recognized voice asked, and I jumped before looking up, seeing none other than Hitoshi Shinsou standing next to the empty desk next to me. "Is that seat taken?"

"Uhhh....not that I know of?" I replied, slightly dumbfounded. Could I handle this?

"K. Thanks," he replied nonchalantly, sliding into the desk to my right. He set his cool grey messenger bag on the other side of the desk, pulling out a black notebook and tucking a pen behind his ear, setting up. I kept my body language casual, facing forward, but I couldn't stop myself from glancing over every so often, careful to not get caught.

I'd met the basically-demigod Hitoshi Shinsou in Intro to Psych, two semesters ago. It may be silly of me, but I'm pretty sure I started crushing on him the moment I saw him. He was tall, slender but solid, with purple hair that was constantly pushed back. At first, I thought he styled it that way, but having been in class with him and staring occasionally noticing him, it really was his fault his hair did that. He often sighed and ran a hand through his hair whenever he was really thinking about something. It was actually kinda cute, he did it so often that during tests sometimes there'd be a slight imprint of the base of his palm against his hairline. Was this weird to notice?

I tried to be careful, but on my third or fourth glance over at him, we accidentally made eye contact. His eyebrow twitched slightly in the brief second we made eye contact, and it caught me off guard to the point that my hand jerked, knocking my energy drink off the desk. It fell to my right, and hit the ground.

I hesitated reaching for it, and before I could grab it, Hitoshi had swiped it up and put it back on my desk, eyeing it.

"Never seen that flavor before," he stated casually.

"Oh! Yeah, haha, cotton candy is one of my favorite flavor of anything," I said just a bit to fast. Oh god, here was the perfect opportunity to make a good impression on him and here I was, blowing it. Though if he noticed my nervousness, he didn't indicate it.

"Huh. Next thing you know, they'll make a birthday cake flavored one," he said with a slight scoff.

"They do. It's okay, but kinda weird. It tastes like liquid cake and makes my mouth all confused."

Hitoshi raised an eyebrow at me, his violet eyes light and playful. "Sounds like you've got a sweet tooth."

Was this happening? Was I actually having a normal conversation with Hitoshi? I laughed, nervous, and reached for the can.

"Oh, I mean, I guess so, I'm a foodie in gener-"

"Stop," he interrupted.

"Huh?" God, had I already talked too much? Was I boring him? Before my thoughts could spiral me any more, though, he continued.

"That just fell on the floor. Don't open it right now."

I looked down, to where my hand was on top of the can tab, about to open it. I guess I was so nervous I didn't realize what my hands were doing.

"O-oh, right. Thanks," I said, warmth creeping up my neck and cheeks.

Luckily, I was saved from more awkward conversation by the professor coming in. Dr. Aizawa was one of the senior psychology professors at the school; he mainly oversaw higher levels of psych classes, and this one, Critical Thinking in Psych. I sighed, resolving to focus on the professor for the rest of class.

Later in the week, it's time for STAT 305, and I am prepared. It's my only class of the day, so I take time in the morning, eat breakfast, and shower, leaving early and slipping into a seat near the window. I stare out of it, my eyes flitting around, idly people-watching, before turning back to the classroom. It had filled up in the time I was staring out the window, and I briefly notice the seat next to me was the only seat not taken. Wait, is....

I turn my head and scan the room, but I really might as well not have bothered, as Hitoshi strode into the room just before the professor did. He had big purple headphones, and as he looked around the room, my pulse quickened. No way was I going to survive this semester if I'm both classes he sits next to me.

He spots the seat next to me and heads over. I turn my gaze down, chewing on my lip a bit as I fiddle with my pen. Should I make a joke? Should I say hi? Should I not acknowledge him at all?

I hear him set down his stuff and slide into his seat. I can't help myself and I glance at him in my peripheral. He takes off his headphones smoothly, resting them around his neck before running a hand through his hair. Luckily, Professor Nezu starts speaking, and I will myself to concentrate on what he's saying.

".....and don't forget, get your books by Tuesday. I'll post the reading and the syllabus online, make sure to take a look through both before next class. Dismissed."

I started to get my stuff together, grabbing my backpack from off the floor when Hitoshi interrupted my thoughts.

"Hey."

"Yeah?" I replied evenly, looking up to glance at him while continuing my motions. An idle hope flitted by, wouldn't it be awesome if he asked to trade numbers?

"We should trade contact info."

Wait, what? Did that just happen? I looked up to him, and I guess my face gave away my surprised, because he spoke quickly.

"Not to....be weird or whatever. Just that we have a couple classes together this semester. We could study together."

Hitoshi Shinsou wants to study. With me. Luckily I regain my composure nearly instantly, thanks to years of masking.

"Oh! Sure! Great idea, it'll be more efficient," I responded. We traded phones, typing our contact information in before swapping back. Hitoshi Shinsou's phone number is in my contact list.

"Cool. See you around, Alis," he said, putting his messenger on one shoulder. Putting his headphones back on, he strode towards the door.

"Y-yeah, see you..." I quickly gathered my stuff, dumbfounded, before heading back to my dorm.

The first weekend of the semester came, and with that, so did my weekly smoke sessions with the crew. We'd all met during orientation and immediately hit it off, and today was no different.

"Guess who has pizza rolls~" Hawks crowed, bringing a full tray of steamy, half-open pizza rolls on a large platter. They set it down on the table where the rest of us sat, plopping down on one of the couches. The smoke spot for the most part was the basement of Adgy's parents' house, which coincidentally was their bedroom, and our club's secret sanctuary.

"So let me get this straight," Vibby started as I took a long hit off one of the bongs being passed around. "Hitoshi Shinsou asked for your number. And wants to study together. This is your chance!!"

I laughed, a bit too hard and I descended into a coughing fit, passing on the bong and lighter to Simi, who passed it to Cloudy.

"Step one: message him," Hawks grinned, blowing onto a pizza roll before popping it into their mouth. "Step two: suck his dick. Step three: invite us to the wedding."

"God I wish," I said lightly, a nervous tinge to my laugh.

"Suck his dick! Suck his dick!" Adgy teased, and before long, the rest of the circle had joined in as I flushed, grabbing my pipe from the table and hitting the bowl.

"I wonder if the curtains match the drapes," Cloudy said idly, after the chanting had died down.

"No way," Adgy replied. "Have you seen the way he dresses? Dude totally manscapes."

"Okay, guys, I don't need to be thinking about Hiroshi's crotch right now, I can already barely face him," I joked.

"Let's take bets to see how this plays out," Hawks grinned. "Hmmm......dinner on me says he's gonna use a study session to flirt. Ooooo, maybe he'll lean in reeeeeal close when you're checking an answer together~"

"God," I sighed, leaning back. "I wish. Could you imagine?"

"Ten bucks says he just kisses shine out of the blue," Adgy said. "I bet he's totally the type to kiss you to get you to shut up."

"My money's on Alis accidentally confessing," Vibby said, nudging me slightly. "You do have a tendency to panic when you're flustered."

"Oooh, good point," Hawks replied, grinning. "He seems the type to play with his food."

"Y'all!!" I squeaked, hiding my face in my hands. God, I was going to die if this keeps up.

"Okay, fine, we'll ease up," Simi smiled, before breezily changing the topic. I breathed a sigh of relief, but the images of what my friends said kept me awake all night, my mind racing with the thought of those things happening to me.

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