Three's Never A Crowd

“Alright! So at this point we’ve established why naïve regression fails in the presence of confounding. Let’s move forward assuming we care about causal identification, not just predictive accuracy. Suppose we’re estimating the effect of a treatment T on an outcome Y. In an ideal world, we’d randomize T. But we don’t live in that world. We live in a world where treatment assignment depends on covariates X, many of which...”

My data professor rambled on, pacing back and forth in front of the class like a panicked bird. The semester had only started two days earlier, yet here we were, diving straight into the deep end.

So much for the easy A his Rate My Professor reviews had promised. Fooled my ass!

I scribbled furiously in my notebook, trying to keep up with the verbal avalanche he unleashed. He didn’t believe in lecture slides; just marker, theory, and pain. My phone buzzed violently against the wooden desk in the lecture hall. I ignored it at first and kept writing, but it kept going, insistent.

Before it could vibrate itself onto the floor, I grabbed it and swiped the screen open to reveal the culprit; the group chat.

Asael: Good day ladies! IT’S A BIRTHDAY TODAY! HAPPY BIG 21 CERISE! 🥳 The plan is dinner tonight then frat hopping. Dress code is Big Bad Red. Be sure to come hot & sexy 😈

Xinyi: Guys can we PLEASE aim to be home before 5AM tonight🙏🏼 I have a calc 3 quiz tomorrow afternoon

Cerise: here here! i don’t want to be wasted mid week 👎🏻 and i have chem lab tomorrow also

Asael: LAME! Cerise it’s literally your birthday‼️ A young ho only turns 21 once! We’ll be home no later than 3AM! Swears!🙂‍↕️

Xinyi: Alright but I’m not being DD tonight. I wanna get lit too!

Asael: Aye perfect! We’ll Uber, Lyft, walk, hell even scooter! Cerise, come on! I can’t believe I’m forcing you to go out for your birthday

Cerise: fine i’ll go. but i don’t want to wear a sash or a tiara 🍅💥

Asael: I’ll take whatever I can get! Eden?! Answer ho! I see you stalking the chat!

Eden: I’m down 👍🏾 To save time we can all meet to pregame at Asael’s house at 10. I’ll be DD so everyone can still have fun. And I like being in control of when we can leave 🤪

Asael: Yay ladies! See you hot and sexy at 10!

What I’ve learned over the years from being friends with Asael is that arguing with him is pointless. He’s persistent, driven and somehow makes saying “yes” feel easier and more fun than a “no”.

After a little more back-and-forth about outfits and who was bringing what, I flipped my phone face-down. The lecture hall had already thinned out; some students had slipped away, while others clustered around the podium asking questions.

Well, there goes my notes for this lecture. Hopefully there wasn’t anything too important that I missed.

I left class and headed home to change. I went with a strapless, deep red leather top with a matching short leather skirt, pulling on my boots and slinging my favorite purse over one shoulder. By the time I reached Asael’s house, the pregame was in full swing. Bass thumped through the open windows, rattling the walls. Shot glasses lay scattered across every surface like tiny casualties, and the air hung thick with the sharp, sweet bite of tequila, Cutwater, and Hennessy.

“Finally! The designated driver arrives. Get in here so we can sing happy birthday,” Asael greeted me at the door. He looked every bit the birthday ringleader, rocking a vibrant red mesh tank, a heavy studded belt with a statement silver buckle, black pants, and heeled black boots.

I laughed as he pulled me inside.Xinyi was already tipsy, perched on the kitchen counter looking stunning in a deep burgundy leather-and-mesh corset top, a matching wide double-buckle belt, and a wrapped mini skirt with a long ruffled trail cascading down the side. She was mid-argument with Cerise about whether a tie technically qualified as “hot and sexy” for roleplay purposes.

Cerise, true to her request, looked dangerously good. She absolutely glowed in a bright red button-down and matching tie, layered under a slick, burgundy patent leather jacket with a plush fur collar. Complete with a pleated leather mini skirt, matching gloves, sunglasses, and killer knee-high patent boots, she completely stole the room.

We pregamed hard but fast-shots, playlist battles, a chaotic round of “Put a Finger Down” that ended with Asael confessing he’d once been a third in a couple’s hookup. By 11:30 we were glitter-dusted, buzzing, and stumbling out to my car. First stop: Aba for tapas, then Greek Lane.

Aba felt quieter than the chaos waiting for us. We shared plates of whipped feta, beef short rib hummus, labneh, and cocktails while conversation softened into inside jokes and quieter laughter. By the time we stepped back outside and made our way through Greek Lane, the food sat heavy and grounding in our stomachs, like a brief pause button before everything started speeding up again.

The first three frat houses were a blur of strobe lights, sticky floors, and shouted conversations no one could hear. We danced in tight circles, screamed lyrics to early-2000s bangers, and lost Xinyi for ten minutes, only to find her doing body shots off a very enthusiastic soccer player. Cerise got crowned with a paper birthday tiara despite her protests and Asael flirted outrageously with anyone who made eye contact.

By the time we reached the last house, the night had settled into that hazy, electric rhythm where everything felt louder and closer than it should.

“Alright ladies!” Asael shouted into the street, arms raised. “This is the last house before our hard stop at 3 a.m., so let’s have some fucking fun for Cerise’s twenty-first!” He commanded before leading us into the frat house.

“What’s up, party people! Welcome to Kappa Sigma Tau’s Sylly Night!” A guy dressed in a suit shouted as we reached the front of the line. “Grab a cup based on your relationship status and go have fun. Drink responsibly and if you drink, please don’t drive. Kappa Sigma Tau isn’t responsible for anything that happens tonight. A wristband and signature mean you agree to the conditions verbally explained to you.”

“Well if that isn’t one way to have a disclaimer for your party,” I muttered, grabbing a purple cup, which apparently represented “single and ready to mingle”, while the others took their colors.

The inside was packed wall to wall-heat, noise, and the layered mix of perfume, sweat, alcohol, and cologne hanging thick in the air. Three and a half years in Chicago and I still hadn’t fully adjusted to how overwhelming crowds here could feel. Back home in Florida, things had always seemed calmer, more familiar. Here, everything blurred together into noise.

The music boomed to the point the bass radiated throughout my body. The bright, flashing lights bounced across the walls.

“HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY CERISE!” Xinyi shouted, resulting in us raising our glasses in salute.

We were dancing to our hearts content when suddenly, all the water shots from earlier began to catch up to me. I scanned the room for any signage indicating a restroom only to see it slightly blocked by a line of people in front of a semi-broken door.

Absolutely not.

“Zaz, I’m hitting the restroom. I really need to go,” I shouted over the music.

“Okay babes, let’s go.”

“No, it’s fine, I can go by myself. I’ll try one upstairs.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come?” He reached for my hand.

“I’m good. I’ll be quick.”

Quickly rushing upstairs, I hurried into the farthest bedroom that was open, and ran into the bathroom. I quickly checked to make sure what I thought was happening wasn’t happening. To my utter dismay and disappointment, Aunt Flo decided to pay me a visit a week earlier.

“Yo! You gotta use the main bathroom downstairs! You can’t be up here!” A male voice yelled through the door as I frantically searched for the roll of dead tree pulp.

“I know! I’m so sorry! I just need a minute.” I shouted, hovering over the toilet seat while frantically trying to send an SOS message to the group chat for someone to bring me a tampon or pad.

“Nah bro you can’t be up here. I’ll get in so much trouble.” The knob rattled.

God forbid a girl take a fucking second to tend to her period in a clean frat house bathroom.

“Yo, Alex, what are you doing in my room?” Another voice questioned.

Just my fucking luck, another person. This is so embarrassing.

“This girl ran in to use the bathroom and she’s not coming out.”

“Alright, head back down to the party. I’ll handle it.”

Footsteps faded. Now it was just me and the new voice on opposite sides of the door.

My phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Picking up quickly I see a message from Xinyi asking if I had the car keys.

Fuck, I do have the keys!

I responded, giving her my location so she could come get them.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” The voice behind the door questioned softly.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry about this. I just got my period and it wasn’t supposed to come for another week, so I don’t have any pads or tampons on me but I keep them in my car and my friends are downstairs so I asked them to get me one out the car but I have the keys since I’m the designated driver tonight, so I have to wait until they come get the keys, then get the pad then bring it to me - ”

“Okay, alright, slow down,” He interrupted gently. “Look under the sink in the cabinet. You’ll find what you need.”

Opening the cabinet doors, I found rows of unopened toilet paper, boxes of pads and tampons, pain meds, and basic toiletries staring back at me.

There’s actually no fucking way right now. I feel like I just found a pot of gold in a pile of shit.

Grabbing one out of the pack, I quickly handled my business before opening the door.

Leaning casually against the wall with a pink Solo cup in hand was a tall guy with striking white hair, a backwards red baseball cap, ear and eyebrow piercings, and a white T-shirt that read “Blink if you want me.”

“Careful,” he said with a slow smirk. “You have to blink or those pretty brown eyes might dry out.”

“And who said I was staring at you? You’re just in the way.”

“How can I be in the way when you’re the one inmy room?” His pierced brow lifted. “All good?”

“Yeah. Thanks so much. Sorry again for barging in.” I apologized before trying to step past him.

“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?”

“People usually give their own name first when asking for someone else’s.”

“Fair.” He straightened to his full height, grin widening as he now towered over me. “Haruto Satoru. Senior, applied mathematics. President of Kappa Sigma Tau. Favorite color’s red. I love sweets. Your turn.”

“I don’t tell strangers my name. What if you’re planning to kidnap me or steal my identity?” I played coy.

“I could do that even without knowing your name. So do you want to tell me to make it easier?“His tone was sly, teasing.

“Wow, I’m shocked. There’s a brain under that cap. My name is Eden Sinclair. Senior, data science. My favorite color? You’ll have to talk to me more to find out.”

“Oh, so she can flirt.” He leaned in just slightly. “Eden. Beautiful name. If you give me your number I bet I’ll figure out that color in no time.”

“My number-”

“EDEN! OH I FOUND HER!” Cerise burst through the threshold. “We’ve been looking everywhere. You said upstairs but not which room. Are you okay?” She scanned me head to toe, examining my body for any sign of harm or panic.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Haruto here owns the room and let me use his bathroom. Thanks again. We’re heading out. Enjoy your night.” I flashed a polite smile as Cerise tugged me away.

Walking back downstairs, the feeling hit me before I even turned around-that prickling awareness at the back of my neck, the instinctive sense of being watched. I turned, and there was Haruto at the top of the stairs, leaning against the railing. Raising his cup, he tipped it slightly in my direction before tossing back the remaining liquid. His eyes never left me until I looked away first.

“Eden! My God you had me terrified! What bathroom did you run off to?” Xinyi asked.

“My period came and I had to run to the bathroom upstairs since the one down here was disgusting. I was asking for a pad out of my car but the bathroom I was in had some.”

“She was in Haruto Satoru’s bathroom, to be exact,” Cerise added with a grin.

“No fucking way. He let you stay there? Do you know him? Did y’all hook up?” Asael pressed.

“No! Why the hell would I hook up with a stranger; especially on my period? Can we be serious for a second, please?” I sighed, exasperated.

“Do you know what the streets say about him?” Xinyi asked. “Apparently he’s a great fuck, always pays, but never brings anyone back to his place and never stays. He’s gone right after. No aftercare, nothing.”

“So... community dick?” Asael cackled.

“Not exactly. From what I’ve heard, freshman year to now? Body count’s four.”

“Wow. I’m pleasantly surprised. Single digits?”

The group dissolved into laughter.

“Alright hoes, get in the car,” I said. “Time to call it. We all have classes tomorrow.”

I dropped everyone home, the night still buzzing quietly under my skin.

Asael crashed on my couch with dramatic flair, muttering something about “best birthday ever” before passing out mid-sentence. Xinyi and Cerise texted me blurry thank-yous from their beds. I barely made it to mine before the adrenaline crash hit.

The next morning came too early. Sunlight spilled unevenly across my room as I forced myself out of bed. Going downstairs, I woke up Asael to which I received groans and moans in response. I proceeded to get myself ready for the day before heading to my 8 a.m.

It was the only time available for this class. I would never willingly take an early morning class if I didn’t need to.

The lecture hall was still half-dark when I slipped in, claiming a seat near the back. I opened my laptop, trying to shake off the fog of last night. Haruto’s smirk, the way his eyes followed me down the stairs, the ridiculous coincidence of finding pads in a frat bathroom like some twisted rom-com plot point.

I was halfway through typing the date when the door at the front opened.

A guy walked in-white hair, the same jawline, the same height. My heart stuttered.

It was uncanny. He looked exactly like Haruto but at the same time the complete opposite. His head slightly down, hoodie up, backpack slung over one shoulder like he was trying to take up less space. No backwards cap, no flashy shirt, no grin that dared you to look away. He scanned the room once, hesitated, then chose the seat two rows ahead and one over from me; close enough that I could see the faint outline of an ear piercing when he turned his head to pull out a notebook.

He didn’t look back. Didn’t acknowledge anyone. Just started writing, pen moving fast and neat, like the lecture hadn’t even started yet.

I stared harder than I meant to.

Twins? Identical twins?

And then, as if he could feel the weight of my gaze, he glanced over his shoulder, just a quick flick of blue-gray eyes and white eyelashes through the black and blue colored frames of his glasses.

Our stares locked for half a second.

He froze.

Then his cheeks flushed the faintest pink, and he snapped his head forward so fast I almost laughed.

The professor started talking about causal graphs and backdoor criterion.

I tried to focus.

I really did.

But all I could think was: There are two of them.