Chapter Text
The next week is complete shit for Ongsa.
She gets through it the same way she’s always gotten through hard times: by keeping her head down and trying to focus on anything other than her misery. It has mixed results. She knows that everyone around her can tell she’s depressed, but given that just getting out of bed feels like a slog, she’s not sure how much she could really hide from the people around her.
Actually, the support she has from her friends and her family is what makes this different from Ongsa’s past depressive periods. Her parents love her, she knows, but it seemed like, for so many years, they assumed that this was just how Ongsa was. Seeing Ongsa happy and lively over the past few months has now made the difference even more stark.
It also helps to have Aylin, Charoen, and Tin, who know what she’s going through, as well as her sister, who doesn’t, but is obviously so worried about her. Alpha’s care makes Ongsa a little wistful about the fact that she’d spent the last few years in Phuket while Alpha was here in Krungthep. They’d been fairly close as kids, but there’s a distance now that needs to be rebuilt. Alpha is clearly trying to do it singlehandedly, but for it to work, Ongsa probably needs to share more with her as well. Right now, though, it feels like Ongsa’s depleted any energy she had for confessions.
The worst part is realizing how much Ongsa had relied on messaging with Sun to brighten her days. Checking Instagram for messages is so much in her muscle memory that she keeps doing it before remembering exactly why their chat is empty. Sun hasn’t blocked her, at least, but Ongsa misses the “good morning” and “goodnight” messages, the way that Sun would tell her not only about the exciting things in her day but also the mundane ones, the way she would ask for Ongsa’s – well, Earth’s – opinions to help her make decisions.
Ongsa feels the loss of it like a wound in her chest that is hard to breathe around. She’s never had someone who cared about what she thought, not like this. And maybe now she never will.
*
Charoen and Tin have been running interference for Ongsa at school, helping her out with her treasurer duties and trying to keep her distracted from looking over at where Sun sits, just a table away. It works, for the most part, especially because Sun’s friends are also actively trying to keep her occupied and cheer her up. From the snippets that Ongsa has overheard, it doesn’t seem like Sun has told them that Earth is Ongsa, so they think that Sun’s own sadness is coming from Earth having ghosted her.
However, Ongsa’s talkative friends can’t do much for her at Astronomy Club, where Kru Bambam has an announcement for them.
“Because of the success of your activity for the club fair,” she says, looking more excited than Ongsa has ever seen, “I’ve convinced the head of school to let us lead an astronomy trip!”
Aylin, Luna, and Sun all look at each other in surprise, while Ongsa continues to keep her eyes down so she doesn’t have to meet anyone’s gaze. “A trip?” says Luna eventually, when Kru Bambam is clearly waiting for someone to prompt her.
“Yes! The Perseid meteor shower peaks on the night of August 12th. And we’re going to lead an overnight trip to Ratchaburi to watch them!”
Kru Bambam is practically vibrating by now, and Luna looks almost as thrilled, jumping up to hug her. Aylin has a small, pleased smile as well. It’s only Sun and Ongsa that aren’t reacting with the appropriate enthusiasm. But the others are too happy to notice.
“I knew this club would do great things!” Luna crows.
Ongsa sighs internally. As much as she wants to keep quiet, she does have questions, so she slowly raises her hand.
“You don’t need to raise your hand here, Ongsa,” says Kru Bambam, looking amused. “What is it?”
“Isn’t that a lot for us to plan, when there are only four of us?” Ongsa says.
“The Student Activities Committee has agreed to help,” Kru Bambam explains. “As have some teachers. I think we’ll get other volunteers after the announcement is made. But I do expect you four to be the most involved and make our club proud.”
“What about the curse?” Ongsa continues.
Kru Bambam and Luna both scoff. “I think we’ve proved that there’s no curse, after how well our fortune-telling activity went,” Luna says.
“And my foot is barely even sore anymore!” Kru Bambam chimes in.
Ongsa’s not so sure. Her world certainly feels like it’s fallen in on itself since she joined Astronomy Club.
But then again, that’s her own fault. Maybe blaming the curse is a deflection from her taking responsibility for her own actions.
The rest of the club meeting is a flurry of initial brainstorming. Luna is their leader, of course, overseeing all the planning along with Kru Bambam. Sun is asked to help get the word out to students about what kinds of permissions they need to get from their parents, the payment they’ll need to make to help fund the trip, and what all they’ll need to bring. Aylin will work on putting together educational materials about the Perseids and what they can expect to see. And Ongsa, by virtue of being Alpha’s sister, will be their liaison to the Student Activities Committee, and help them to come up with a plan for logistics, including transportation to the campsite in Ratchaburi, renting tents, arranging food, and so on.
Kru Bambam ends the meeting eventually so that she can get to her physical therapy appointment, and Ongsa, Sun, and Aylin start to pack their stuff up. Except suddenly Luna says, “Wait, Aylin! Can you stay back to help me with something?”
Aylin frowns and says, “Why?”
“I want your opinion on the best place to source star charts,” Luna says blithely, though she’s also raising her brows and widening her eyes expectantly at Aylin. Ongsa’s stomach sinks. Are they –
“Fine,” Aylin acquiesces. “I’ll see you at home, human,” she says to Ongsa.
Ongsa tries to give Aylin her own meaningful look to indicate her distress, but Aylin doesn’t even look at her, so Ongsa is forced to turn to the door instead, where Sun is waiting. Waiting for her.
Kru Bambam’s off in the distance by the time the two of them exit the clubhouse and start making their way down the path – she wasn’t kidding about her foot hardly hurting, physical therapy must be going well – so it’s just her and Sun, walking in silence towards the parking lot. Ongsa stares down at the ground, her heart pounding in her ears, because Sun keeps glancing over at her as if she’s going to speak.
“Ongsa?” says Sun eventually, sounding hesitant.
Well, there it is. Ongsa braves a look at Sun then. Her brow is furrowed, and oh, even as Ongsa’s heart aches, she’s still so cute. It seems almost impossible that Ongsa should feel so giddy when it’s closer to nausea than excitement, but she does. “Yes, Sun?”
“I just want you to know that I’m not mad at you anymore,” Sun says carefully. “But I do still feel…hurt.”
Ongsa’s chest twinges. It’s not unexpected, but it’s still painful to hear.
“I know you didn’t mean to do it,” Sun continues, “but it still feels like you were tricking me. Manipulating me.”
Ongsa swallows, her throat thick. “Because I’m a not a boy.”
To her surprise, Sun shakes her head. “No, that’s not what I mean.” Then she hesitates. “Well. That might be a small part of it, if I’m being honest. But mostly, it’s because I didn’t realize that Earth was someone I knew already.”
Ongsa’s confusion must show on her face, because Sun elaborates. “Part of what I thought was so cool about talking to Earth was the way Earth seemed so familiar to me even though we’d never met. It felt like there was someone out there who just…got me. It’s part of why I didn’t feel that much of a rush to meet Earth, not until my friends encouraged me to invite Earth to my birthday party.”
Sun sighs. “Now I know that you did know me another way. And I’m guessing you weren’t trying to use that in our conversations. But the fact that you knew and I didn’t still feels…unfair. And hurtful.”
Ongsa is stricken. She’s so new to connecting with people like this that it had never even occurred to her she had an unfair advantage in their conversations. Ongsa is used to thinking of herself as someone who no one would want to talk to. She knew that it was wrong to lie to Sun, but it had never occurred to her that the lie itself gave her a kind of power over Sun.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, half-choked. “I know that doesn’t make up for it, but…I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Ongsa,” Sun says quietly, and her kindness makes Ongsa feel even worse.
They’ve reached P’Sunny, and as Sun puts her helmet on, she forgets to do the chin strap – and Ongsa remembers when Sun had first come over to her house, how she’d fastened the clasp for her before she left, how the smile Sun gave her had spurred a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.
She doesn’t dare do it again. “You, um. Your chin strap,” she says instead, pointing jerkily.
“Oh,” says Sun, looking just as awkward as she fastens it herself. “Thank you.” She gives Ongsa a tight smile. “I’ll see you around, Ongsa.”
“See you,” says Ongsa weakly, and waits until Sun’s driven out of the parking lot to go catch the bus home.
*
When Aylin gets home about an hour after Ongsa does, Ongsa’s waiting in the living room for her. “Why did P’Luna ask you to stay behind?” she demands.
Aylin doesn’t obfuscate, at least. “I told the human phi about your problem,” she says matter-of-factly, even as Ongsa gawks at her. “She says that human Sun clearly wanted to talk to you. Did she?”
“Well, yes,” Ongsa says, half-spluttering, “but don’t do that again without warning me, Aylin!”
“Okay,” Aylin says, nodding, before going up to her room, so there’s not much more Ongsa can say to that.
She trudges upstairs herself, cheered only by Latte following her and flopping down at her feet when she sits on her bed. She pets him with her foot absently while she gets her things out of her bookbag. Once Alpha is home, she’ll need to talk to her about the plans for the trip, but she has some work to get done too.
Ongsa’s engrossed in her history textbook when her phone gives a ding. All week, she’s had to tamp down on the instinctual excitement she feels at the noise, because it’s not going to be Sun, not anymore. It’s more likely Charoen and Tin on their group chat.
But when she looks at her phone, her heart stops, because. It is Sun. And not on Instagram, but messaging her on LINE. Messaging Ongsa, not Earth.
All the message says is, I miss you.
It makes Ongsa’s eyes burn, and blinks at it for a moment before she slides off the bed and onto the floor, Latte looking up at her expectantly.
I miss you too, she writes back, then places her phone screen side down on the floor so that she can bury her face in Latte’s fur to cry.