You Forgot To Call

It had been a few days since you had last seen Suguru Geto on Valentine's day. After he had dropped you off at home, you remember dragging him in from the hallway, and the rest of the night lived as a memory in your head. You could also recall there being much more touching, kissing, fucking than in the car. Maybe a little bit more weed to smoke, and of course, he spent the night. Then, the moment Utahime said she was on her way up to the dorms, that was the last you saw of him.

Since then, there hasn't been a single text message. Or a call, or even an email. Would he even need your email if he had your number?

As you said, the rest of that night lived in your mind as just a memory. Nothing less, nothing more.

You remembered all of it when you sat in your Statistics lecture late one afternoon. It took everything out of you to stay awake for the longevity of the lecture, being that your professor talked as quietly as a mouse. It would have lulled you right to sleep if it weren't for the thoughts on your eventful February night racing through your head. Suguru was in your wakeful nights and daydreams. Thoughts of his lips, his tongue, his hands, and even more invaded your mind.

As much as the memory haunted you, you couldn't let it bother you. Maybe it was for the best that you didn't get a text or call back. You can just focus on something else, someone else more worth your while.

The lecture ended without you remembering much of what he talked about, and students flooded out of the hall and into the lobby. You followed the crowd out to the front of the STEM building, where the cold dusk air bit at your exposed skin peeking from your jacket. You turned to head towards home, the school dormitories, not too far from there when you heard a familiar voice.

"Well, who do we have here?"

You pivoted on your heel to find your old close friend Satoru squeezing out of the crowd from the lobby of the STEM building. He, of all people, was the last person you'd expect to be here, seeing that he had no backpack, laptop, not even a pencil in sight as he could have only come from the lobby. He was wearing his usual school attire, which consisted of his black Shibuya University crewneck and a pair of thick grey sweatpants, along with a pair of Nikes. You only rolled your eyes at him as he caught up with you.

"What have you been up to?"

You knew Satoru far too well. Might you remind yourself that Satoru was the farthest thing from academically inclined? He had never really taken an interest in academics. Don't get it wrong, you did consider him intelligent. He knew how to calculate equations, conduct important research and thoroughly write essays all for the sake of a grade. Yet, he put all of that rigorous energy into parties and girls— now, college women.

Alas, he was still one of your closest friends from high school. Someone you held dear to you regardless of his academic status quo.

"Oh you know," He shrugged, bumping his shoulder against yours once he met with you, his hands shoved in his pockets, "Studious exam taking. Strategic note writing."

"You? Note writing? Exam taking?" You snorted, and Satoru laughed with you.

"Hey, it's not impossible." Satoru slung his arm around your shoulder, using his hands to trace the skyline in front of you, "Just imagine it. Satoru Gojo, the first man on the moon."

You looked up at him from the corner of your eye, "You wouldn't be the first, unfortunately."

He waved his hand, "So you say."

"How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in a while." You mentioned, and just like that, Satoru was following you home.

This wouldn't be a problem for him to come over.