Distant Signals: The Love Between Us

Chapter Twenty-One

From the moment Deer explained the secondary meaning of the gear, Arthit never stopped thinking about Kongpob's gear. He couldn't sleep. Knowing that, he insisted on taking Bright's shift patrolling the first-years (he was too drunk to do it, anyway) and paced anxiously back and forth, slowing down whenever he passed by Kongpob's room.

He glared at the door—through it, really, hopefully at that devilish junior. Was giving Arthit his gear essentially a confession? Arthit's stomach churned. If it was, could he accept it?

Arthit released a deep breath and sank to the floor, balancing on the balls of his feet in the middle of the hall. He didn't know. There was no doubt that he liked Kongpob, that he wanted him sexually, but...

Disgusting.

Frustrated, Arthit ran his hands through his hair and pulled at it lightly, as if it would somehow banish Sarah's revulsion from his mind. Puen's indifference, the way he continued to eat without the slightest indication that he disagreed with her prejudice—it played and replayed in his mind over and over and over, making his chest tight with anxiety. And, thinking back, it wasn't the first time he'd seen Puen react like this to a similar situation.

Years ago, not long after Jay's parents found out that their eldest son was in a relationship with his male best friend, Arthit approached his uncle because the tension in his friend's house was worrisome. The relationship between Tor, Jay's brother, and his mother deteriorated. Every time they crossed paths, a petty argument ensued and it didn't take a genius to figure out that they weren't really fighting about household chores or curfews. It was taking a toll on the whole family, and eventually Jay started to blame Tor for causing the family's problems. Arthit was concerned about both Jay and Tor, so he went to Puen for advice.

"Don't do anything," replied Puen, when asked what he could do to help Tor and Jay reconcile. "It has nothing to do with you and if you try to interfere, it'll just make them lose face."

"But what about Tor?"

"What about him?"

Although he hadn't actually seen him crying, Arthit noticed how he began to frequently disappear for short periods of time, returning with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and a fake smile. Jay didn't notice, or pretended not to, and Arthit didn't know what to do. What Puen said made sense, but it seemed cruel to do and say nothing when Tor was in so much pain. In the end, Arthit settled on quietly supporting Tor and encouraging Jay to be there for his brother. However, Arthit regretted that now. He wished he'd done more for Tor, who seemed to have no one to turn to for help.

"Arthit—"

A hand landed on his shoulder, startling him to his feet. Arthit yelped and jumped away, heart pounding, and glared at the offending person who dared touch him. "Prem! What the hell?"

"Why are you yelling at me? You're the one who was sitting in the middle of the damn hall like a crazy person. What were you doing?"

Arthit flushed. "Nothing..." He rubbed the back of his head and cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

"It's my turn to patrol."

"Oh."

"You should get some sleep. You look like shit."

Arthit made a face. "Gee, thanks."

"I'm just saying it as I see it."

"Fuck off, Prem," he said, but it was without venom. "But seriously, I don't think I'll be able to sleep, so you might as well. I'll just nap on the way back."

"If you say so."

Arthit shrugged. He expected Prem to leave, but he didn't, causing Arthit to frown at him in confusion. "Why aren't you leaving?"