Between Us || LINGORM

Chapter 4: Campus Clashes

The sun burned high over the campus as students trickled into the seminar hall, their conversations a low hum. Orm Kornnaphat settled into her usual seat, one arm draped casually over the back of the chair as she scanned the room. The economics seminar was her turf, a place where her lively energy thrived amidst debates and discussions. But today, the usual buzz was edged with tension. Rumors had swirled: Lingling Sirilak Kwong, the famed tourism major who carried an air of command wherever she went, would be joining.

As the minutes ticked by, Orm's restlessness grew. Kwang, seated beside her, nudged her with a knowing grin. "Nervous? Heard Lingling's going to be here. You two sure have been crossing paths a lot."

"Nervous? Please," Orm scoffed, though her voice betrayed her. The thought of Lingling's sharp eyes and cool composure had lingered longer than she cared to admit. The memory of their initial clash—the embarrassment of entering her condo by mistake—still simmered at the back of her mind.

Suddenly, the door opened and a hushed silence fell. Lingling strode in, wearing a tailored, light gray blazer over a crisp white shirt, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that gave her an even sharper presence. She didn't scan the room, didn't look for approval; she simply walked in as if she owned the space. Orm swallowed. It was impossible not to notice her.

The professor cleared his throat. "Welcome, everyone. Today's seminar will delve into sustainable economic policies, and we have the pleasure of being joined by Lingling Kwong from the International College of Tourism Management, who will offer insights on integrating tourism with economic growth."

Lingling nodded, her face composed, betraying nothing. Orm tried to hold back a smirk. This was her realm, and she wasn't going to let anyone—especially not Lingling—outshine her.

As the seminar progressed, debates ignited. The room became a battlefield of ideas, each student presenting cases and counter-cases with fervor. Orm thrived on this kind of exchange; she loved the challenge, the energy, the chance to voice her thoughts loudly and freely.

"Orm, your perspective on short-term economic gains is insightful," the professor said, pulling her out of her thoughts, "but it might be prudent to hear a different viewpoint. Lingling, your thoughts?"

Orm felt her muscles tighten. All eyes shifted to Lingling, who stood with an elegance that was both natural and intimidating. Her gaze swept the room before landing on Orm, and for a fleeting second, Orm thought she saw the trace of a challenge there.

"Short-term gains," Lingling began, her voice smooth and even, "are indeed a necessary catalyst for economic activity. However, without a long-term plan that integrates sustainable tourism, these gains can backfire. Tourism isn't just an economic asset—it's a cultural exchange, a source of national pride. If we're not careful, the very fabric that attracts international interest unravels."

A murmur went through the room, and Orm felt her pulse quicken. The idea resonated, but the delivery—it was as if Lingling spoke in perfectly crafted sentences, each word a deliberate strike.

"I disagree," Orm said, leaning forward. She could feel the familiar heat of a challenge rising in her chest. "Long-term sustainability is important, yes, but we can't ignore that immediate economic stimulation sets the foundation for those very plans. You can't build a future without starting today."

Lingling's gaze didn't waver. "And if today's actions compromise tomorrow's resources, what then? You'd have a house built on sand."

The room fell silent. There was no clear winner of the debate; the professor interjected, acknowledging both points with a neutral nod. But the tension that crackled between Orm and Lingling was palpable.

After the seminar, students began to trickle out, their chatter buzzing with opinions and recaps. Orm lingered, packing her notebook slowly as if stalling for a moment she couldn't quite name. When she looked up, Lingling was standing by the door, speaking in low tones to Milk and Kapook. Milk's eyes flicked toward Orm, her expression unreadable before she said something that made Lingling's lips quirk into a faint smirk.

Before Orm could second-guess herself, she approached. "Interesting points you made back there," she said, trying to keep her voice casual.

Lingling turned, her eyes steady and assessing. "Likewise. You're not afraid to challenge, are you?"

Orm's smile broadened, fueled by adrenaline and the echo of their argument. "Never have been."

There was a pause, a flicker of something unspoken that passed between them. Then, Lingling broke the gaze, turning back to her friends. "See you at the joint project meeting," she said, almost as if dismissing Orm.

Orm's confidence faltered for a heartbeat. Joint project? She had almost forgotten. The tourism committee and the economics program had been paired for a university project—a new initiative to merge theory and practical strategy. And Lingling, as the chair of the tourism committee, would be leading it.

Days later, the first project meeting convened in the main hall of the student union. The space was filled with groups clustered around, their voices blending into a sea of excited chatter. Orm arrived early, staking out a spot at a table in the center. When Lingling walked in, flanked by Milk and Kapook, the room seemed to subtly shift.

The committee chair wasted no time, calling everyone to order with a clear, no-nonsense command that silenced the room. "Thank you all for being here," Lingling began, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. "This collaboration is an opportunity to integrate economic growth with sustainable tourism development. Our goal is to create proposals that can be presented to city officials and local stakeholders."

Orm couldn't help but notice how every word was delivered with precision, as if Lingling was presenting to a panel of CEOs rather than her fellow students. There was no stumbling, no hesitance—just pure, unwavering authority.

They broke off into smaller workgroups, and Orm found herself paired with Kwang, as well as two tourism students—Kapook and Ciize. It wasn't long before the discussions turned from brainstorming to debating.

"Immediate economic stimulus attracts more investment, which we can use to fund future sustainable projects," Orm argued, drawing a diagram on their shared whiteboard.

Kapook, who had been taking notes, looked up. "But we risk exploiting resources too quickly, leaving nothing for reinvestment. The balance is delicate, Orm."

The discussion was fierce, and somewhere in the midst of it, Orm caught Lingling watching them from across the room, her expression unreadable. The moment their eyes met, Orm's chest tightened. This wasn't just about winning debates or clashing perspectives—it felt like something more, something that demanded acknowledgment.

The meeting stretched late into the evening, and when most of the students had filtered out, Orm found herself still at the table, scribbling notes while her mind replayed the day's discussions. Lingling was one of the last to leave, her footsteps pausing near Orm's table.

"You're thorough," Lingling observed, her voice softer than usual.

Orm glanced up, startled by the sudden presence. "Can't afford not to be, can we?"

A small smile ghosted over Lingling's lips, fleeting but real. "No, we can't."

For a moment, neither moved, the silence charged between them. Then, Lingling's gaze turned inward, as if recalling something private, and she stepped back. "See you at the next session."

Orm watched her leave, feeling the faint pull of something unknown in the pit of her stomach. The rivalry, the intrigue, the way their conversations carried more than just words—it was all becoming more complicated than she'd anticipated. And yet, she couldn't shake the thrill of it.