Distant Signals: The Love Between Us

Chapter Eight

Arthit met with the other hazers on Sunday night and, having already secured a time to meet with their faculty adviser the following afternoon, hoped to quickly gain their support so that he could go home and sleep. However, to his annoyance, one of his friends refused to cooperate.

For the first ten minutes of the meeting, Prem sat with his arms crossed defensively across his chest and a scowl on his face. "Why should we do that?" He asked Arthit repeatedly, at various times, his tone biting and resentful. "They should respect us just because we're their seniors."

Arthit sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd known Prem wouldn't like the idea, but he hadn't anticipated this level of resistance. "We've been through this, Prem," he said with growing exasperation. "Yelling at them isn't working. You, of all people, should've figured that out by now."

Prem sat up straighter in his seat, snarling. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what I'm talking about! We've both lost our tempers with the freshmen, and now we need to earn back their trust. This is how we do it. It's the quickest way."

"I think it's a good idea," Knot said. "We should be able to perform those punishments if we're giving them, and I think it will help them understand that we are part of the system too."

"Here, Prem. Drink this and cool your head." Bright tossed him a cold bottle of water. "It's a good idea, but shit, Arthit. Do we really have to do that many of each?"

Arthit raised an eyebrow at him. "We make the juniors do just as many."

"I'm more concerned for you, Arthit," said Tutah. "Are you actually going to do 54 laps?"

Bright made an exaggerated face and playfully hit Tutah on the arm. "Don't you listen, Tutah? He said he'd only do 20."

"That's still a lot..."

"I agree," said Knot, his brows pinched in worry. "Arthit, I've never seen you do long-distance running. Will you be able to run 20 laps?"

"It might take me a while, but I can do it." Arthit frowned. "I'm not out of shape."

Ever the voice of reason, Knot calmly pointed out that unless he was used to doing a hundred repetitions of squats, squat jumps, and push ups before he went on long distance runs, Arthit was going to struggle. "Why don't you just do as many as you can? It won't do us any good if you overdo it and have to go to the hospital."

"I can do it, Knot. Don't worry." Arthit turned to Prem, who was still glowering at them in displeasure. "Are you on board or not?"

"I'm clearly outnumbered here, so fine. I'm in. But I swear, Arthit, this better work."

Arthit nodded and assured him that it'd be worth it, and although it was hardly enough to completely assuage Prem's misgivings, Arthit noticed the tension in his shoulders slowly diminish and he started responding without venom, which put Arthit's mind at ease. Just like Knot, Bright, and Tutah, Arthit knew Prem would have his back in the end, even if they didn't always see eye to eye.

On Monday, after their classes, he and Knot visited the club's faculty adviser to discuss their plans for the following day's hazing event. Since they had all agreed to the punishments as a group, Teacher Pak approved of their plan despite seeming apprehensive, and they thanked him for believing in them.

But Teacher Pak shot Arthit a hard look before they left and said, "After this, make sure you don't go overboard with the freshmen again. Don't make me regret allowing you to be reinstated."

Arthit nodded. A rush of adrenaline twisted his stomach into tight knots as he remembered being kicked off the hazing team. "I won't," he said, his mouth impossibly dry. "I promise."