Arthit & Kongpop ✔️

Not A Murderer

Friday night, but later, Miang Lane was deserted when Prae dropped me off at home.

At least, at a glance it looked deserted.

Because when I got out the car, I saw a large shape sneak across the street. It looked like he's limping slightly.

"Hey," I called out.

The shape froze.

"Who are you yelling at?" Prae hissed, leaning over the passenger seat to look at me. "What if it's a murderer?"

"Even more reason to scare them off," I said. I tapped the roof of her car, then walked away. "Thanks for the ride!"

"Arthit, don't think about going after-"

I jogged up to the shape. "Hey!"

"Arthit!" Prae yelled, but I ignored her.

The shape took a hesitant step towards the Suthilak's house. The insecurity felt a little odd for a murderer.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the dark shape turned around. "Could you maybe, uh, keep it down? I don't want my mom to wake up."

I cocked my head. "And why are you
sneaking around in the middle of the night, Kongpop Suthilak?"

Kongpop rubbed the back of his neck and looked off to the side. "Nothing special."

The most logical question would be to ask if he went to a fight, and if he won, but I didn't like admitting that I listened to gossip, so I didn't ask.

Instead I said, "You were limping."

"Uh, yeah." Kongpop shuffled his feet, then winced and stopped. "I fell."

Or you were fighting an opponent much larger than yourself, and you won, but not without getting injured yourself.

"Does it hurt?"

He shrugged. "A little. It's not too bad. Just bashed up my knee."

This is getting ridiculous, I thought. No more skirting around the issue.

"You know, people have been talking."

"Don't they always?"

The answer made me smile. "True."

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

It felt a little like last Friday night, standing a respectable distance apart on a sleepy Miang Lane, Kongpop Suthilak quiet like the night while I searched for words to fill the silence.

I didn't find any pretty words, so I used clear ones.

"They're saying you've been fighting people for money. And that's why you're always covered in cuts and bruises."

Kongpop was silent as he took in my words.

Then he laughed. Not loud and boisterous, but quiet and warm.

"I'm guessing it's not true," I said, unable to keep the smile off my face.

"Man, I wish,A," he laughed. "That would be so much cooler than the truth."

A.

The nickname transported me back to that evening three years ago, when the rain was pelting down against the windows and the sky had rumbled deafeningly. When our jeans had been soaked and our hair had been dripping and we had been freezing to the bone.

This was fun, A. Thanks.

"So if it's not illegal fighting, where did you get the injuries then?"