pushes their glasses up their nose without looking up from their laptop If you tap that pen one more time, I’m going to reprogram it to only write in invisible ink.

looks up from his engineering textbook She’s not kidding, Lance. I saw her do it to a calculator last week. It only outputs the number seven now.

stops tapping the pen, then starts idly flipping the pages of his open psychology textbook I’m brainstorming. It’s a creative process. You wouldn’t understand, you’re both… logically minded.

finally turns from her screen, fixing Lance with a flat stare So, Lance. Did you enter that social experiment competition? The one the Behavioral Sciences department is running with the Lit department?

looks up, a smirk playing on his lips Oh, yeah, I did. It’s perfect for my psych class. Get to prove people are predictable, y’know? Follow their little patterns.

Who did you choose as your subject?

I’m not allowed to say, remember? Mandatory secrecy rule. You entered too, you should know this. He tapped his temple with the pen, a bored gesture Did you enter, Pidge?

snorts Yeah, sure I did. My subject is you two, and my theory is that you’re both idiots. Oh look, I already proved it. Guess I’ll go collect my prize now.

puts his hands up in surrender Geez, I get it, okay. It’s not that dumb.

Didn’t Keith enter? I saw his name on the sign-up sheet outside Professor Montgomery’s office.

grimaces, his earlier smirk fading Ugh, whatever. He’s just doing it for his creative writing credit. Thinks he’s some deep, brooding artiste. I have a better understanding of the human condition, man. The people.

You sure about that? Keith’s pretty observant.

The emo never leaves his room! He probably listens to, like— My Chemical Romance and writes angsty poetry about the void. How’s he gonna observe anyone?

How does that factor into this conversation?

My point is, I’m winning. Mullet boy isn’t even a threat. His idea of a social experiment is probably seeing how long he can go without smiling.