Chapter Fifteen

                                    

                                          
Arthit's strategy was simple: avoid Kongpob at all costs. If he saw Kongpob in the hallway, then he'd dart down a different corridor. If Kongpob was at the canteen, then he'd just have to starve for a few hours or find food elsewhere. If Kongpob approached him, he'd find an excuse to run away. For the first two days, his plan worked like a charm and he fully expected to successfully keep Kongpob at arm's length until the flag capturing event, at the very least. That is, if he could find an excuse to ditch their Wednesday tutoring session, which was, incidentally, in a few hours.
                          
Arthit gnawed anxiously at his bottom lip, barely listening to their teacher's final remarks about the lesson. Why hadn't he and Kongpob exchanged phone numbers? He couldn't cancel their plans if he had no way to contact him. Last time, he begged the owner of Double Trouble to relay the message, but he could hardly do that a second time. It was too embarrassing.
                          
"Arthit. Hey, Arthit."
                          
Even if he did have a way to contact Kongpob without actually being in front of him, what excuse could he give? He couldn't claim to be sick again, could he? No, he wouldn't believe that. How about a family emergency? Exhaustion? Needing to study for his own upcoming exams?
                          
Suddenly, a hand waved in front of his face and Arthit reared back, startled. "What the hell, Prem?"
                          
"You listening now, asshole?"
                          
Arthit scowled. "What?"
                          
"Look around. Class ended a few minutes ago."
                          
"Huh?" He scanned the room and was surprised to find it completely empty. "Oh. Sorry. I was spacing out a little."
                          
"A little," repeated Prem, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He dropped his notebook in front of Arthit. "Here. I doubt your notes are worth the paper they're written on, so copy mine and give them back tomorrow."
                          
Listlessly, he placed his hand on top of the notes and pulled them a few inches closer to his chest. "Thanks."
                          
"Arthit."
                          
"Yeah?"
                          
"Are you okay?"
                          
Arthit didn't have an answer for that. A war waged inside his heart, and he didn't know how to rid himself of the confusion and self-loathing that plagued him like an incurable disease. He resented the fact that Kongpob hadn't chosen industrial engineering, and seethed at the possibility that he might decide to leave at the end of the year. It provoked intense feelings of inadequacy in Arthit, and he hated it. He didn't want to accept him as his junior only to be rejected afterward.
                          
And then, there was Dream-Kongpob, who had taken to sweetly calling him 'Oon' and placing loving kisses on his forehead as they cuddled. Every morning, Arthit woke up feeling incredibly loved, only for reality to crash into him moments later, when he remembered that it was all a figment of his imagination. He used to brag about the vivid nature of his dreams; now, he loathed it and wished he didn't remember them at all.
                          
"Arthit?"
                          
"I'm stressed, that's all."
                          
Prem went silent and stared Arthit down like he was considering whether to interrogate him further.
                          
"I'm not lying," said Arthit, leaning back in his chair. "I'm stressed. We haven't gotten the initiation trip approved yet, Friday's the flag event, and I've had trouble focusing lately so I'm worried about my midterm exams. I need to keep my grades decent, you know? I just don't feel like I'm doing a good job, and it's getting to me." He tapped the notes. "This helps, though. A lot. But don't you need them?"
                          
"Yes, but you're not Bright so I know I'll get them back quickly."
                          
Arthit laughed. "Did he ever give back those lecture notes?"