'What were you thinking of sneaking out to see a boy in the middle of the night? You're acting like a brat.'

 

My wound and heart hurt. My mother chastised me to death after catching me climbing over the fence to go to Ket's place. Ning was the only one holding me as my father removed his belt to hit me.

 

'What's his name?' my oldest brother asked evenly. His frightening expression mirrored the rage my father felt. I pressed my lips together. My father pushed Ning off and whipped my body with the leather belt in outrage.

 

'Dad!' It hurt.

 

'Ket. His name is Ket! Eyes widening, I turned to my very own sister. I couldn't believe Ning said that when she was the only one I trusted enough to tell her everything in the family. Why? Why did she do that?

 

Ning embraced me. Blood flew down my legs with no sign of stopping. No one cared about my legs that got caught in barbed wire. I received only those angry, hateful eyes.

 

"How humiliating. That family is shameless!'

 

My mother yanked my phone and called someone. I knew nothing after that. I had no idea what happened in Ket's family. I had no idea if his parents felt disgusted with their own child, like mine. All I knew was that I saw Ket for a few days at school. Before I had a chance to talk to him, I was grounded and ordered to quit school to take lessons from the teachers at home. I haven't been able to leave home since then.

 

Getting pushed to my limit, I ran away from home after passing the twelfth-grade exam. I planned not to be tracked down by my parents, and Ning helped me sneak out. My sister didn't stop me. My prejudiced heart didn't care about the reason she did it.

 

I hoped to get back together with him, but I discovered he'd be studying in England, without saying goodbye.

 

Our relationship ended the day the plane took off. Still, none of us had clearly said, 'Let's break up!'

 

I open the door at the same time as the man in the opposite room. I didn't go outside throughout the weekend, except to go down for food before returning to my room. Today is Monday, and I have school. There's no use making excuses to avoid him.

 

I divert my eyes from his stare and toss my towel into the basket in front of my room. I carry it to the stairs to go down, but Ket messes with me by squeezing next to me. Our bodies are pressed against each other. Finally, I push him down, and he falls on his butt behind me. I stick out my tongue at him in satisfaction.

 

Sorn's favourite song plays softly at the back of the building. I can't find the restaurant owner, though. I stop at the washing machine, throw my clothes inside, and add detergent and fabric softener. I'm about to close the lid when a student shirt flies over my head and drops in. Is someone trying to be a basketball player?

 

I turn around toward the person who threw the shirt over my head earlier. He sure grew up well, but his personality is trashy, unlike his looks.

 

"Wash that for me."

 

"Can't you do it yourself?"

 

"The washing machine will do it."

 

He leaves without letting me argue. Okay, Ket. Okay. You want to fight with me, huh?

 

I take out his white shirt and toss it on the floor, then grind it with my foot until it's stained. I close the lid of the washing machine and go inside. I walk up the stairs, pick a hanger from the rail in front of my room, hang the shirt with my footprint on it, and leave it at his door.

 

"I saw that, Kieng," says the low voice from the third floor.

 

Tong opened the door right when I hung the shirt in front of Ket's room. I shrug, not caring if Tong has seen it.

 

"I did it on purpose."

 

"How vengeful are you? That's a legit footprint."

 

I crack a ruthless smile at Tong and make my way back to the washing machine area to plaster a note saying, 'Kieng's laundry. I will take it in the afternoon.'

 

I have classes until the afternoon today. Usually, I would hang out alone until the club period started. I don't really want to go there now. Of course, I don't. I'd rather go home to hang my clothes than get bothered by someone over there.

 

The lecture makes me sleepy without fail. I spin my pen. No matter how hard I try, I can't spin it as long as that person.

 

FWIP.

FWIP.

 

The quiet sound in the classroom without students came from the boy studying hard. When he couldn't think or had to reread a paragraph, there would be the sound of a pencil against his fingers. This boy had always loved spinning pens and pencils.

 

"Teach me!'

 

That was my first time talking to him. The boy had an emotionless face, looking like he needed to poop all the time. He rarely smiled, laughed, or expressed his feelings. He kept to himself and read like a maniac.

 

'Khobket' was embroidered in blue threads on the shirt over his left chest. He seemed surprised. Oh, he could make other faces.

 

I laughed, smiling in a good mood. 'You won't be able to do that' was the first thing he said in a taunting voice. It irked me.

 

'How do you know that when I haven't tried?' You don't look like a determined person.'

 

BAM!

 

Kanin smacked his classmate's head with a rolled notebook. I hated people who looked down on others, even when it was true. Despite my low patience, my determination was superior.

 

'Go ahead, then.'

 

He was right. Kanin, a boy with low patience, still couldn't spin the pen even after months. Was it because...

 

'Your fingers are short,' said the even voice from those beautiful lips. I scowled at my classmate, who had gotten closer to me in a few months.

 

When I observed my fingers, I realised he was correct again. His fingers were slender and long. Even though he was a middle schooler, the pens fit his fingers perfectly, as if he were born to spin them. After that, I often thought His coolest gesture was spinning a pen while thinking.

 

THUD

The pen flies off and hits a classmate before me. The girl with long, curly hair holds her head and gives me an aggravated look. She purses her lips.

 

Her name is Dalha. She's pretty and friendly with everyone in the class. She's the only girl who invites me to be in the same group for group projects, even though others push me away, knowing I'm lousy.

 

"It hurts, Kieng."

 

"Sorry."

 

Dalha picks up the pen for me and turns her attention to the professor.

 

Even though I'm lousy, as they say, I've never spaced out this much. I started to zone out often upon Ket's return. The old memories replay in my mind like a videotape, scene after scene, as though the story has never ended.

 

I lean down, burying my face in my arms.

Should I open my heart to something new?

To forget those painful times.

 

"Do you have any plans after this?"

 

The pleasant, clear voice asks the question as I sweep everything into my backpack. The room is empty as soon as the class is dismissed. Dalha turns around and taps my table lightly. Her group of friends doesn't like me all that much.

 

"I'm going home to hang my laundry."

 

"You wash your own laundry?"

 

"Yeah," I answer aimlessly, wishing to end the conversation now.

 

"Kieng."

"Hmm?"

 

"Are you dating anyone?" The former Department Princess's question slightly catches me off guard. Dalha smiles at me. It's not a pressuring smile—just a casual question. But I know Dalha likes me. I knew it since our first encounter during the ice-breaking ceremony in the first year.

 

"No."

 

"Oh, yeah? Aren't you considering dating anyone?"

 

Not at all.

No.

It's more like I can't like anyone.

 

Since I got into the university, it's always felt like my body possesses this invisible force that drives everyone away. The evidence is evident when I glance at someone; animosity forms out of the blue. That's why people around me are pushed away. Only a few can get through that force, such as the senior club members, Mi, and the guys at the residence. As for Dalha, I talk to her but have no intention of being close to her.

 

"I'm leaving."

 

"Sure."

 

I stand up and move along the row. Something hits Dalha, and she blurts out.

 

"It'll rain this afternoon," she says, smiling sweetly, and runs after her friends with a sketch board in her arms.

 

E...Eh?

 

Dalha was right. I shake the rain off my drenched hair. That was a sudden downpour. It started raining cats and dogs before I reached the university's front gate. Plus, I got splashed during a ride home on the minibus.

When I arrived at Sorn's restaurant, I was wet like a puppy playing in the rain. I've never made good use of my phone, not checking if it'd rain in the afternoon. My laundry is done.

 

I transfer my clothes into my basket. As I carry it out, I stumble upon the future pharmacist, whom I see once in a while.

 

Tou, a fourth-year pharmacy student, resides on the third floor in the room opposite Tong. The man in front of me wears foggy square-framed glasses, his body as soaked as mine, holding a wet cardboard box.

 

"Why are you back early today?"

 

"I went out just now."

 

Tou grumbles and places the softened cardboard box on the floor before taking out the stuff inside—heaps of old medicine containers. I say no more. I didn't know why pharmacists needed those, but I did voice my curiosity when he asked for the container of my cough medicine. I found out Tou collected the medicine labels for education.

 

"Why did it suddenly rain?" Sorn whines at the front of the restaurant. The owner is in a black shirt and shorts, looking like he just woke up. Sorn turns to see me carrying the laundry basket and smiles.

 

"You can't dry those."

 

Ugh!

 

I take my clothes upstairs and hang them in my room, facing the fan to get dried. I closed my window this morning, fortunately, otherwise the rain would've wetted my bed. I wouldn't be able to sleep on it. The man in the opposite room isn't as lucky as I am.

 

"Shit."

 

The voice I've gotten familiar with comes out of Ket's open door. He runs out of the room in alarm with a hanger of the shirt with my footprint in his hand, but I don't think he's startled by that.

 

"What's wrong, Ket?" Sorn asks, craning his head from the bottom floor.

"I didn't shut my window."

 

"Is your bed wet?"

 

"It is."

 

Ha.

What an idiot.

 

I smile in contentment when Ket looks at me, then I go back inside while humming a song. Someone won't be able to sleep on a bed tonight. Poor guy. No soft, warm, cosy mattress with cool air from the AC. It serves him right.

 

Work resumes today. My clothes have been drying since the afternoon, after being fanned. The stuffy heat in Thailand is no joke. I don't care how Ket will handle his wet bed, but I spot him getting down to have dinner with Tong as if they've been friends for ages from the corner of my eye. I swerve into the kitchen and turn to Mee, who's making spaghetti.

 

"How come Ket is close to Tong?"

 

"How am I supposed to know?"

 

"He moved here only recently."

 

"Who would be like you, all cooped up in your room?" Well, it's boring to socialise with a lot of people.

 

"Doesn't he study political science? Tong is a law student. They should get along fine."

 

Mee's words explain it. I stick out my head to observe them chattering away at the outermost table of the restaurant. 

 

Tong, or Sudtong, is a third-year law student. I still remember the first day I moved here, and Sorn introduced him to me. However, Tong remains Tong, or Sudtong, a third-year law student, as he dropped out for a year. Why did he do that?

 

To pass through the levels of Mario Neko.

He's the kind of man who puts all his effort into something once he sets his mind to it. That's why he dropped out to finish the game, completing every level of Mario Neko. He succeeded a few days before Ket came here, so he showed up to see others now.

 

As for Khobket. He's also a man with great determination, yet he never makes anything clear.

 

"Kieng."

 

Sorn scolds me for being nosy while working. He enters the kitchen and sits on the seafood cooler. He looks unwell, unlike when I saw him this afternoon.

 

"Are you okay?"

 

Mee flicks his eyes from the pan of spaghetti to the man resting his head in his palms. He approaches Sorn and touches his arm. The exuding heat indicates a fever.

 

"You have a fever."

 

I've never seen Sorn this sick. Even when he felt unwell, he would usually act like he was okay and cheer up the next day. Today, on the contrary, he walked into the kitchen to rest with a pained expression.

 

Mee puts the spaghetti onto a ceramic plate and holds it out to me to serve. I accept it, fixing my eyes on Sorn in worry. Mee then touches Sorn's head with the back of his hand. The hint of fear in his gaze makes me retreat and check the table number Mee passed Ket's table.

 

'You're sick.'

 

The unusual pace of my breathing caused me to collapse. The other boy was startled and rushed to me.

 

I was in the rain yesterday and had a slight headache, which got worse when I forced myself to go to school. Ket had no idea what to do. The middle schooler at a private school looked around in a panic. This expression of the boy before me was rare. I could count the times he expressed emotions like others.

 

'Cough, cough.'

I panted harder, and it became painful. I couldn't breathe. Not knowing what to do, Ket knelt in front of me, put his hand on my head, and stroked it. He couldn't carry me to the nurse's office. Wait here. I'll get a teacher!

 

The gentle touch made me forget how to breathe for a second. It was another first time, the little boy who disliked other people's touch refused to push someone away.

 

I'm setting the spaghetti on the black wooden table. I gasp as someone's palm touches me while I space out. I tug my hand and accidentally slide the plate onto the floor, shattering it. The other customers stare at me in shock.

 

"Hey, are you okay?" Tong cries out, moving the broken pieces from my legs with his sandal.

 

I realise someone is holding my hand in shock. I pull it back and turn to Mee, who runs out of the kitchen after hearing the noise.

 

"Kieng, you all right?"

 

Oh, one of the servers rushed to me. I'm not feeling okay at all.

 

"Please clean it up for me."

 

I pat Oh's shoulder and return to the kitchen, then flop on the floor and clutch my own shaking hands. The tears I've been holding would've fallen had I not looked

up to stop them. No...

 

Don't be weak.

Do not cry, Kieng.