Chapter Text
AGE 6
Ongsa was pretty sure he’d just set a new record for how fast he could shove down his breakfast while his mum yelled at him to slow down and stop before he choked.
His mum would never understand. He had to rush. If he didn’t, he’d be left behind. And if he was left behind, he’d cry. And if he cried, he’d get a snotty nose.
Ongsa hated getting a snotty nose.
So really, none of this was his fault.
He was already halfway into his second sneaker when his mum called after him to take his breakfast plate to the sink. He let out a loud, deeply offended sigh as he trudged back into the kitchen.
“Don’t start with that attitude.”
Ongsa ignored her.
He was going to be late, and if he was late, he was going to blame his mum. And if he blamed his mum, he was absolutely going to give her the silent treatment for the rest of the day.
She deserved it.
He carefully placed his plate in the sink, just like Dad always told him to, before hurrying past his mum and making a break for the front door.
His hand was already on the handle when he stopped. He turned around.
Maybe he could spare one second.
Ongsa ran back to his mum and wrapped both arms around her waist.
“Bye, mum.”
His cheek was pressed against her stomach, and he breathed in the familiar smell of her perfume and the cookies she’d baked that morning. His mum laughed softly before pinching both of his cheeks.
“Ow!” He cried out, a pout forming on his lips.
She ruffled his hair.
“Have fun. Tell them I want you home by seven.”
Ongsa pulled away and nodded very seriously.
He definitely wasn’t going to tell them that.
“Okay.”
Then he was out the door again.
He raced across the grass, his sneakers thudding against the pavement as he hurried towards his neighbour’s house. His legs were already beginning to ache, but he pushed himself to run faster.
When he finally reached the house, he spotted them sitting on the porch steps.
Ongsa stopped, a triumphant smile formed on his lips. They were here, so he wasn’t late.
He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
“Took you long enough, Sa”
Ongsa’s smile immediately disappeared.
His older brother, Keng, was sat at the top of the steps, his arms resting across his knees. Beside him sat Inn, his brother’s best friend. Inn was also his best friend. Well, after Pearl, he reckoned. If Pearl ever heard him say that she wasn’t his number one best friend anymore, she’d be mad at him and probably wouldn’t let him play with her Game Boy, so Ongsa thought it was better not to tell her. He could have two best friends anyway. Maybe even three if he tried hard enough.
Their family had only moved into the neighbourhood last year, which was when they’d met Inn and his family. They lived next door, although next door was a funny way of saying it because there was so much space between their houses that Ongsa had to walk for a whole minute before reaching their front gate. All the houses were like that, big and sitting far back from the road, each one surrounded by wide gardens and tall hedges that made it hard to see where one family’s garden ended and the next one began. Keng had told him that was because the houses were expensive, but Ongsa didn’t really understand what made a house worth so much money when all the houses looked mostly the same to him.
Inn was thirteen, the same age as Keng, so the two of them had gotten along almost immediately. They were together so often that Ongsa sometimes wondered if his brother even remembered what it was like before Inn lived next door. Their parents got along just as well, which meant that every Friday evening, without fail, their families had dinner together. Sometimes it was at their house and sometimes it was at Inn’s, but Ongsa liked the nights when it was at Inn’s better because their dog was allowed inside and Inn’s mum always made the little chocolate cakes he liked.
Ongsa usually wished Inn had a younger brother who was his age. Then maybe he wouldn’t have to feel left out all the time.
It wasn’t like Keng and Inn were mean to him. They always tried to include him when they could, especially Inn, but sometimes they just wanted to do things that Ongsa was too little for. They’d play football in the garden and tell him to wait until they were finished. They’d sit in Keng’s room playing games and close the door when Ongsa tried to follow them inside. Once, when Ongsa had asked if he could play with them, Keng had sighed and told him they didn’t want to hang out with a kid.
Ongsa had cried.
He’d locked himself in the downstairs bathroom because he didn’t want anyone to see, but Inn had found him anyway. He’d sat down on the floor outside the bathroom door and waited until Ongsa finally opened it, then handed him a tissue without saying anything about his red face or the way his nose was running.
“You know you can be my best friend too, right?” Inn had said.
Ongsa had sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.
“Really?” He asked, hope creeping into his voice.
“Really.”
He looked at Inn for a moment, like he was trying to decide whether he could believe him.
“But you’re Keng’s best friend.”
“I can have two.”
Ongsa had thought about that for a moment before wiping his nose with the tissue.
“Me too?”
“Yeah. You too.”
That had been it.
Ongsa had decided that Inn was his best friend from then on.
And now, standing at the bottom of the porch steps with his chest still heaving from his run, Ongsa remembered that he was supposed to be annoyed with Keng. He looked up at his brother, who was already watching him with an impatient expression, and quickly decided that the memory could wait.
“You said we were leaving at nine,” Ongsa said, still trying to catch his breath. “It’s not nine yet.”
“How do you know it’s not nine yet when you can’t even tell the time?”
Ongsa gave a dramatic gasp, looking towards Inn to see if he would defend him like he usually did, but he didn’t. Instead, there was a small smile on his lips, clearly amused by the whole thing.
“I can tell the time,” Ongsa insisted, stomping his foot.
“Can you also tie your shoelaces?” Keng asked, nodding towards his feet.
Ongsa immediately looked down.
His shoelaces were completely undone, the ends dragging against the ground.
“I forgot to tie them,” he mumbled. “I was rushing so you wouldn’t leave me.”
Keng shrugged. “Sa, it’s okay. Just admit you don’t know how to tie your shoelaces. I couldn’t tie mine until I was seven.”
Seven?!
Ongsa stared at him in horror.
It was only a few months until he was seven, and he still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces. Keng was surely going to make fun of him if he turned seven and still couldn’t do it. Maybe he could ask Dad to teach him again tonight. He’d tried before, but Ongsa always got confused after the bunny-ear step and somehow ended up with a knot that didn’t look anything like the one Dad had made.
He should’ve worn his Velcro sneakers instead. They were easier. He hated that he couldn’t do it himself, especially when everyone else seemed to know how. He didn’t want to be the baby who needed help with his shoes.
Before Ongsa could say anything else, Inn stood up and came to kneel in front of him. He picked up one of the loose laces, carefully threading it through his fingers.
“How old were you when you learned to do yours, Inn?” Ongsa asked, hoping he’d say eight.
He could learn by eight.
That was still a long time away.
Inn tied the first lace, then moved onto the second, his fingers working quickly as he looped and pulled until a neat little bow sat on top of Ongsa’s sneaker. Ongsa looked down at it, immediately recognising the shape. It looked exactly like the ones Dad tied for him every morning, the loops sitting neatly on either side without any of the messy knots Ongsa always managed to make. He stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out how Inn had made it look so easy, before Inn stood to his full height again and ruffled Ongsa’s hair in the process.
“I was five, I think.”
Ongsa’s shoulders dropped.
Five.
He’d been five.
“Don’t worry, Sa,” Inn said, giving his hair one last pat. “I’ll teach you.”
AGE 8
The branches cracked beneath Ongsa’s weight as he ran through the woods as fast as his legs could carry him, ducking underneath the low-hanging branches and pushing through bushes that scratched against his arms. If Keng found him before he found Inn, he’d never hear the end of it.
He’d begged Keng and Inn to play hide-and-seek with him in the woods beside their neighbourhood. Keng had been hesitant at first because Ongsa had barged into his room while they were playing video games, but Ongsa had promised not to tell their parents about Keng sneaking out after bedtime, so his brother hadn’t really had much choice but to agree. It was a fair trade, Ongsa thought. Keng got to keep his secret, and Ongsa got to play.
The only reason he wanted to come here in the first place was because all his friends at school had been telling him that the woods were haunted. They said if you came here at night you could hear something moving in the woods. Ongsa didn’t believe them.
Well, he mostly didn’t believe them.
He just wanted to see for himself.
Ongsa gave himself a little pat on the back for that decision. He’d been a little scared to threaten Keng with the whole sneaking-out thing at first because his brother could always turn around and tell their parents about all the sweets Ongsa had been sneaking from the kitchen. He loved his sweets. Dad kept saying they were bad for his teeth, but Ongsa had all of his teeth and they seemed perfectly fine to him.
Well, maybe Dad was a little right about the sweets causing tummy aches. His stomach had hurt really badly the last time he’d eaten a bunch before bed, but that was probably just a coincidence. Or maybe it was the consequence of craving sweets before bedtime. Either way, Ongsa had decided it was a problem for future Ongsa to worry about.
Either way, Keng better keep his mouth shut.
Ongsa pushed through another cluster of bushes, glancing over his shoulder before continuing deeper into the woods. He could hear Keng counting somewhere behind him, his voice echoing between the trees.
“Seven…”
Ongsa's eyes widened.
He ran faster.
“Six…”
He needed somewhere to hide. Quick.
“Five…”
He spotted a large tree ahead of him, its trunk wide enough that he could probably squeeze behind it without being seen. Ongsa changed direction immediately, nearly tripping over a root as he raced towards it.
“Four…”
He skidded to a stop behind the tree and pressed his back against the rough bark, trying desperately to quiet his breathing.
“Three…”
Ongsa clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Two…”
He squeezed his eyes shut.
“One!”
Silence.
Ongsa slowly opened one eye.
The only thing he could hear now that Keng had stopped counting was the sound of his own breathing. His heart was beating so fast that if anyone asked, he’d tell them it was because he’d run a lot, but really, he was starting to get scared. The woods suddenly seemed much quieter than they had a few minutes ago, and every little sound made him wonder if something was moving somewhere nearby.
He listened closely, holding his breath for a few seconds, but he couldn’t hear Keng or Inn moving around. Not even a twig snapping.
Maybe they’d gone back to the neighbourhood without him.
Ongsa frowned at the thought. They wouldn’t do that. Keng would never leave without him. Probably.
Inn most likely wouldn’t. He was sure of that.
A few more minutes passed, and his hiding spot started to feel less exciting and more boring. His legs were still a little shaky from the run, but he decided that was enough hiding. If Keng and Inn weren't coming to find him, then he’d just have to find them first.
With his heart still beating a little too fast, he started walking back through the woods the way he thought he'd come, pushing aside the branches as he went.
Ongsa swallowed.
He knew the way.
Probably.
He continued walking, keeping his eyes on the path ahead of him, when he heard a twig snap behind him.
“Keng?!” he called, turning around quickly to see if either of them was there.
There was no one.
He turned back around and continued walking, trying to convince himself that it had probably just been an animal. A squirrel, maybe. Or a rabbit.
Then another twig snapped.
Ongsa spun around immediately.
Nothing.
His eyes darted from tree to tree, searching for any sign of movement, but there was nobody there. No Keng. No Inn. Just trees.
Maybe his friends had been right.
Maybe the woods really were haunted.
Ongsa's bottom lip trembled.
Was he going to die in these woods?
Tears began filling his eyes at the thought. He still had a whole stash of sweets hidden in his secret drawer. He hadn't even finished them yet. He couldn't die.
What would happen to his sweets?
“Inn?!” he screamed, louder this time.
His voice echoed through the trees.
Ongsa waited.
No answer.
Another rustle came from somewhere behind him.
Ongsa froze.
He didn't even have time to turn around before two figures suddenly jumped out from behind the trees.
“BOO!”
“AHH!”
Ongsa screamed so loudly that his voice came out cracked. He stumbled backwards, trying to get away from them, but his foot caught on a thick root. His ankle twisted awkwardly and he went down hard, his hands scraping against the dirt as his knee slammed into the ground.
“Ow!”
The laughter stopped immediately.
“Ongsa!”
Keng’s face dropped as he rushed to him, Inn right behind him.
“Sa, are you okay? Can you stand?” Inn crouched beside him, reaching for his arm.
“Don’t touch me!”
He shoved his hands away, tears already spilling down his cheeks. His knee stung, his palms were covered in dirt and his ankle hurt from where he'd landed on it. More than anything, though, he was angry. At both of them.
He’d thought they had left him. He’d thought he was alone in the woods, that something was going to find him, and all this time they’d been hiding there, planning to scare him.
He hated them.
All he’d wanted to do was play with them.
“You’re so mean!” he shouted through his tears, his voice breaking as he tried to catch his breath. “I thought I was going to die!” He struggled between sobs, taking huge, shaky breaths that only made his chest hurt more. “All I wanted to do was play! Why did you scare me?!”
Keng’s face fell.
“We didn’t mean to—”
“Yes, you did!” Ongsa cried, cutting him off. “You knew I was scared!”
“We didn't know you were that scared,” Keng said quietly.
“I was!”
His voice cracked on the last word, and Ongsa wiped furiously at his cheeks, only smearing dirt across his face. He didn't care. He didn't want them to see him crying, especially not after they'd made him cry in the first place.
“I hate you,” he mumbled, looking between them with watery eyes. “I hate both of you.”
Inn looked at Keng, then back at Ongsa, his expression filled with guilt. “Sa, we’re really sorry.”
Ongsa huffed, turning his face away from both of them, his arms crossing tightly over his chest. He didn't want to hear it. They were only saying sorry because he was crying, and that didn't make what they did any less mean.
“Come on, Sa. Let’s go home,” Keng said softly.
“I don't want to go home.”
“You're bleeding.”
Ongsa looked down at his scraped palms and sniffled miserably.
“I don't care.”
Keng sighed, but there wasn't any annoyance in it this time. He carefully scooped Ongsa up, one arm underneath his knees and the other supporting his back.
Ongsa immediately turned his face away from him.
“I’m not talking to the both of you.”
Keng glanced at Inn.
“Okay.”
The walk back was quiet.
For once, Keng didn't tease him about being carried, and Inn didn't try to make him laugh. They both seemed to understand that Ongsa was serious about his silent treatment.
Once they reached the house, Keng carefully lowered him onto the sofa.
“I’ll get the first-aid kit,” he said.
Ongsa didn't answer.
Keng disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Ongsa sitting stiffly on the sofa, his bottom lip pushed out.
Inn stayed.
For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.
Then Inn crouched down in front of him.
“Sa.”
Ongsa stared at the wall.
“I know you're mad.”
Nothing.
“And you have every right to be.”
Ongsa's eyes flickered towards him for half a second before quickly looking away again.
Inn sighed.
“I really am sorry. We thought it would be funny, but I didn't think you'd get that scared. I should've stopped Keng.”
Ongsa stayed stubbornly quiet, his lips pressed into a pout. He wasn’t going to give in to their apologies. Not even if they bribed him with sweets. He had to at least ignore them for a whole day. That was how long they deserved to be punished, he decided. Maybe two days, if he was still angry tomorrow.
Ongsa sniffled.
“You thought I was stupid.”
“No.”
“You laughed at me.”
“I wasn't laughing at you.”
“You were.”
Inn shook his head. “I was laughing because we thought we'd scared you for a second. I didn't know you were actually scared.”
Ongsa finally looked at him.
“I thought the woods were haunted,” he admitted quietly.
Inn's expression softened. “I know.”
“I thought something was going to get me.”
“I know.”
“And then you jumped out!”
“I know.”
“And I hurt my knee.”
“I know.”
Ongsa's face crumpled again, and he looked down at his scraped hands.
Inn reached out slowly this time, giving him plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to.
“I'll make it up to you.”
“How?”
Inn thought for a moment.
“You can pick what we play next time.”
Ongsa sniffled. He was officially bribed.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
Even with his eyes still watery, the tiniest smile appeared on Ongsa's face.
“Even if Keng doesn't want to?” His brows lifted in delight, thoughts of what to pick next time already filling his head. He had so many ideas. They definitely weren’t going back into the woods again, though. Maybe they could play football, or hide-and-seek somewhere that wasn’t haunted, or even let him choose the video game for once.
Inn smiled.
“Especially if Keng doesn't want to.”
Ongsa’s smile grew.
From across the room, Keng groaned. “When did I agree to this?”
“Because you scared me,” Ongsa reminded him, his smile disappearing just long enough for him to point accusingly at his brother. “So now I get to choose.”
Keng sighed. “Fine.”
Ongsa grinned.
He could totally use this against them for at least a week. He was going to milk it for everything it was worth.
AGE 12
“I’m not going!” Ongsa cried from his room, his face buried deep into his pillow.
His mum barged into his room, throwing open the curtains and letting the sunlight spill into the room. Ongsa groaned loudly as the sudden brightness hit his eyes, pulling the pillow tighter against his face in an attempt to block it out. His mum wasn't having any of it. She walked over to his bed and yanked the covers off him, leaving him exposed to the cold morning air.
“Sa, get up.” She tapped his shoulder.
“No,” he groaned into his pillow, trying to fall back asleep despite the circumstances.
“Ongsa.” His mum shook him awake again, earning another groan from him. He moved further out of her reach.
“Mum, I said I’m not going. Leave me alone.” He pressed the pillow tighter against his face, willing himself to fall back asleep, but it didn't work. Gosh, he’d been having the best dream. Couldn’t they just go without him?
He finally pulled the pillow away from his face and glared at his mum, who was already glaring back at him with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“You have ten minutes, Sa,” she said.
“I don't care.” He nearly pouted at her.
“You're going.”
“I’m not.” He said it with such finality that he closed his eyes again, as if that settled the matter.
“Okay, whatever.”
His mum climbed onto the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around him and raking her fingers through his hair the same way she had since he was little. Ongsa relaxed into her without meaning to, enjoying the warmth despite himself.
“Does this mean I don't have to go?” he asked, trying desperately not to let his triumphant smile show.
“No, you're still going.” She pinched his cheek. “I've given up on convincing you. I'll just get Inn since he's the only person you listen to these days. I’m the one who gave birth to you, you know.”
“Inn is here?” Ongsa asked, suddenly a little more awake.
His mum paused, staring down at him.
“That’s what wakes you up?”
He rolled his eyes, “Mum, no one can convince me to go to this stupid party.”
“It’s not a party. It’s dinner.”
Like that was going to make a difference.
Party, dinner, potato, potahto. He wasn't going.
He'd already made up his mind yesterday when his mum had brought it up over dinner. Keng was willing to go for some reason, and Keng hardly ever went to these things anymore. Ongsa blamed him. Now his parents expected him to go too, like he couldn't stay home alone for a few hours.
He was twelve.
Well, he might be a little spooked by the idea of being alone in the big house for that long, especially once it got dark, but he'd eventually get over it.
The dinner was being held by the Chaidee family. Gem Chaidee's family.
Gem was a girl from his year.
A girl who had recently told him she liked him.
It had happened a few weeks ago during PE. Gem had sent someone to tell him to meet her at the abandoned building by the field, which should've been his first warning that something strange was going on. Still, Ongsa had gone, mostly because he was curious about why they had to meet somewhere so secretly.
When he got there, Gem had been standing by the building, looking unusually shy.
That should've been his second warning.
Gem was never shy.
She was the girl who once yelled at another girl for wearing the same bow as her and had somehow convinced her to take it off before lunch.
Instead, Gem had pulled a small pink box of chocolates from behind her back and held it out to him with a nervous giggle.
“What’s this for?” Ongsa had asked, already opening the box.
Everyone knew he liked sweets. Sometimes people saved things for him, but no one had ever given him a whole box of chocolates before. He was already planning which one he was going to eat first.
“I’m confessing, Sa,” Gem said, her cheeks turning pink as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.
“Confessing what?”
Ongsa stopped trying to open the box and looked at her, confused.
His heart was beating a little faster now.
He had a pretty good idea of what was happening, but he needed to be sure.
“I like you, Ongsa! Will you be my boyfriend?” she asked, her voice suddenly filled with confidence.
The box of chocolates slipped from Ongsa's hands and landed on the ground.
His mouth fell open.
It wasn't the first time a girl had confessed to him, but usually they did it through their friends, his friends or left snacks and little notes on his desk. He'd never actually had to reject someone to their face before.
Until now.
He stared at Gem, completely stunned.
His mind was still stuck on the box of chocolates lying at his feet. He'd really wanted those.
What was he supposed to say?
It wasn't exactly a surprise that Gem liked him. Ongsa was friends with pretty much everyone in his year and even knew a few of the older students, so people tended to be friendly with him. He probably should've noticed when Gem started becoming overly friendly, though. She'd suddenly wanted to sit with him at lunch all the time, and she'd started handing him a bottle of water after PE whenever he came back sweaty from playing football.
Usually, a bunch of people offered him water.
But once Gem started doing it, it seemed like his number of admirers had mysteriously decreased.
Not that he was keeping count.
“Gem…” he said, already dreading what he had to say.
As if she could sense what was coming, Gem's smile dropped immediately. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“Are you rejecting me, Sa?”
Ongsa hesitated before nodding.
“I’m sorry, Gem.”
She gasped.
“Do you like someone else? Who is it? Tell me!”
She stomped her foot in frustration, throwing a tantrum in almost the exact same way Ongsa did whenever Keng or Inn pulled a prank on him.
“I don't like anyone else, Gem. I just don't like you,” he said honestly.
Maybe he could've been nicer.
But how nice was he supposed to be while rejecting someone?
Gem's face twisted.
She huffed before stomping directly onto his foot, making Ongsa bend over with a cry as he clutched his toes.
“Never speak to me again! I don't want to be friends with you!”
Then she'd stormed away.
After that, Ongsa heard she'd started spreading rumours about him, telling people he was mean to her and had embarrassed her when she'd confessed.
Which was so not true.
Okay, maybe he'd been a little blunt.
But she was the one who'd stepped on his foot.
And somehow people believed her anyway.
Which was especially annoying considering Gem was usually the one getting into arguments with people.
So, no.
Ongsa was absolutely not going to her family's dinner.
“I’m still not going to the dinner, Mum.”
He rolled onto his side, turning his back to her now. He could already tell from the silence that she wasn’t going to let it go that easily.
“You haven’t even told me why.”
Ongsa felt the weight beside him lift. His mum had gotten off the bed, probably to stand there and stare at him like that was somehow going to make him change his mind.
“Because I don’t want to.”
“That’s not a reason,” she sighed.
“It is to me.”
He closed his eyes again, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation. He really didn’t see what was so difficult to understand. He didn’t want to go. That should have been the end of it. He’d already decided, and once Ongsa made up his mind about something, it was usually very difficult to make him change it.
“Fine. Stay here. I’ll tell everyone you’re not coming.”
He hummed in reply, keeping his eyes shut until he heard his mum walk towards the door.
The door opened.
Then closed.
Ongsa let out a small, happy sigh.
Finally.
He could stay in bed, do whatever he wanted, and not have to spend the entire evening sitting around a table with people he barely wanted to talk to in the first place. He’d probably order something to eat later. Maybe sweets too, if he could convince someone to get them for him.
A few seconds passed before there was another knock at the door.
Ongsa frowned.
Of course.
“Come in,” he groaned.
He lifted himself onto his elbows to see who was at the door.
Inn walked in.
He was wearing a suit, which Ongsa thought looked good for about half a second before remembering that he was supposed to be annoyed.
Ongsa groaned and fell back against his pillow, grabbing the other one and covering his face with it instead.
He heard the door close behind Inn.
A few moments later, the mattress dipped as Inn sat down beside him.
“Your mum’s saying you’re not going to the dinner,” Inn started, like he was simply making conversation.
Ongsa didn’t bother moving the pillow.
“I’m not.”
“I heard.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because I want to know why.”
Ongsa pulled the pillow down slightly, enough to look at him.
“Because I don’t want to go.”
“That’s not a reason.”
Ongsa stared at him.
It was the same thing his mum had said.
He was beginning to think the adults in his life had all secretly agreed on the same three sentences and were just taking turns saying them to him until he finally gave in. Maybe if he stayed quiet long enough, they’d eventually get bored and leave him alone.
“It is to me,” he muttered.
Inn gave him a look.
Ongsa sighed and dropped the pillow back over his face, deciding that maybe talking to Inn had been a mistake.
A monet later, he felt Inn reach over and gently pulled the pillow from his face.
Ongsa frowned at him.
Inn’s expression had softened, a small worried crease between his eyebrows. “Seriously, why don’t you want to come with us?”
“I just don’t want to. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”
“That’s not a good enough reason, Sa.”
Inn shrugged, like he wasn't buying it at all.
Ongsa groaned.
He didn’t understand why saying I don’t want to wasn’t enough. He didn’t have to like every single thing his parents asked him to do. Sometimes he just didn’t want to do something, and that should have been allowed.
“Why is everyone so obsessed with me having a reason?”
Inn smiled. “Because you’re being difficult.”
“I’m not being difficult,” he pouted.
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Ongsa crossed his arms, glaring at him.
“I’m just saying no.”
“Which is being difficult. Besides, you haven’t given us any reason to even consider staying home as an option.”
“No, it isn’t. And I don’t have to. Keng says he doesn’t want to do stuff all the time, and Mum and Dad let him.”
Inn laughed quietly, and Ongsa frowned harder. He didn’t see what was so funny. Everyone always did this—called him difficult whenever he didn’t do exactly what they wanted, like he was supposed to agree with everything just because they were older than him.
He reached for the pillow again.
“I’m not going,” he mumbled, pulling it back over his face.
Before he could go back to ignoring Inn, the pillow was pulled away from him again.
“You can tell me, Sa. Come on, it’s just me.” Inn ruffled his hair, earning a small frown from Ongsa. “Why don’t you want to go?”
Ongsa hesitated.
He didn’t really want to say it out loud. It sounded stupid enough when he thought about it himself, and it would probably sound even more stupid once he said it to Inn.
“There’s someone there,” he finally admitted.
“Someone?”
“From school.”
Inn waited.
Ongsa picked at a loose thread on his blanket, watching it unravel between his fingers. He knew Inn was waiting for him to say more, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere in his throat.
“And I don’t want to see them.”
“Did they do something?”
“No.”
“Did you do something?”
Ongsa went quiet.
He hadn't, not really. At least, he didn't think he had. He'd just told Gem the truth, and then she'd got angry because she didn't like the answer. He still didn't understand what else he was supposed to have done. He couldn't make himself like someone just because they liked him.
But saying all of that out loud sounded like making excuses.
Inn's lips twitched.
“Sa.”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
“Okay.”
Ongsa looked up, almost surprised.
That was it?
“You don't have to talk about it,” Inn said. “But you also don't have to avoid everyone just because one person is going to be there.”
“Well, her parents are the ones throwing the dinner. I have no choice but to see her if I go.”
“You can stay with Keng and me,” Inn said. “You don't have to talk to her. You don't even have to look at her.”
Ongsa considered it.
That actually sounded possible.
He could stay next to Keng and Inn the entire time. If Gem came over, he could pretend he hadn't seen her. And if she tried to talk to him, he could just leave. He wouldn't even have to be alone with her.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Ongsa watched him for a moment, making sure he was serious.
“And if I want to leave?”
“I’ll leave with you.”
That finally made Ongsa smile.
“Okay,” he said quietly, already feeling a little less worried about the stupid dinner.
Inn smiled back. “Okay?”
Ongsa nodded.
“I’ll go.”
Inn’s smile widened immediately.
Before Ongsa could change his mind, Inn lunged at him and started tickling his sides.
“Wait—Inn!”
Ongsa squirmed beneath him, trying to shove his hands away while his laughter filled the room. He kicked at the mattress, twisting from side to side, but Inn only laughed and kept going.
“Stop! Stop, I said stop!”
Eventually, when Ongsa couldn’t take it anymore, Inn finally let him go. Ongsa collapsed back against his pillows, still laughing as he tried to catch his breath.
Inn reached over and ruffled his hair before standing up.
“Come on, brat. You’ve got twelve minutes.”
Ongsa groaned.
He’d barely agreed to go and now he was being rushed.
He sat up, fixing his hair with an annoyed huff as Inn headed towards the door.
And, of course, his mum was going to gloat.
She was going to be so smug about this.
Ongsa was already regretting telling Inn he’d go.