Chapter Text
Nine days passed and still King didn’t come back to the condo. Ram made gentle inquiries, but he couldn’t find out anything about his missing senior. Whatever was keeping him away was strong enough that he hadn’t even been by to check on the plants. This was serious.
During those lonely days, Ram argued it out in his head. Sometimes, he got so frustrated he even spoke out loud but he was afraid of offending the gentler plants so tried to keep his stronger emotions to himself. All he was succeeding in doing was making himself sick with worry and fear.
This was his fault. He was convinced of it now. There was no possible way that he hadn’t done something to offend King. He thought they were friends. Maybe he was still getting this friend thing wrong.
On the tenth day, Duen noticed something was wrong as they ate lunch together between classes. “You look pale. Are you sick?”
“I’m not sick,” Ram assured him but he thought about giving in and using a trip to the medical center as an excuse to get away from the group of discerning eyes that were now all turned toward him.
If they’d been alone or if it had only been Phu, he might have gotten away with it. Both Tingting and Tang stared at him with eyes that saw entirely too much. “He’s not sick,” TingtIng declared with a small frown. “He’s sad.”
“I’m not-”
But Tang leaned forward, peering into his face with a deeper frown. “Something is definitely wrong. Your eyes are haunted.”
“It’s just family stuff,” Ram insisted, pulling his bag onto his lap in case a chance presented itself for an easy getaway. These friends didn’t know specifics but they knew that he’d had a falling out with his father.
Tingting was shaking her head. “No. This is different from family stuff. Family stuff makes you look stressed. This isn’t stressed. Tang is right. You look haunted.”
“I think he looks fine,” Phu commented but he didn’t look like he believed his own words. “We should all go back to eating before we need to head to class.”
She rounded on the stammering boy who now looked like he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “What do you know? You hang with the seniors sometimes. What’s going on with them.” The implied with King was unsaid but everyone heard it. They all knew the only reason Ram would look haunted. There was no way he could deny it now.
Phu looked uncomfortable. “They’re fine. They’re all fine. Busy with school. Like all of us.”
Duen spoke up, his whole face broadcasting his frown. “Why don’t you ask me? Wouldn’t I be the one to know the seniors the best since I’m dating one of them?”
“Fine. Answer this question correctly and I’ll only ask you questions about the seniors from now on.” Ting Ting narrowed her eyes as she contemplated the boy sitting across the table. He suddenly squirmed, a fly being watched by a hungry spider. “At lunch yesterday, Bohn bought you a juice. The person sitting across the table from you had the same kind of juice. Who was it?”
“Across the table?”
The group started laughing, mostly because Deun was adorable as he tried to remember anything that wasn’t directly related to Bohn. He mostly looked embarrassed but waved Tingting back to her questioning of Phu.
“I don’t know how to answer you,” he responded when Tingting asked her question again. “What do you want me to say? That King looks as bad as Ram? I’m sure he’s fine.”
Everyone turned back to stare at Ram, waiting for him to do something. He wasn’t sure what they wanted from him. Was he supposed to start crying? Screaming about how painful it was that King was fine and he was so broken inside that he could barely stay upright, his body wanting to find a place to curl up and die? Did they want him to act like he didn’t care? No, that wasn’t going to work because he’d tried that and no one believed him.
Ram didn’t realize a panic attack was starting until Tang fished out a handkerchief from the pocket of his bag, wetting it down with some bottled water before handing it over to Duen who placed it against Ram’s neck.
“What’s that for?” he wheezed, realizing that he couldn’t catch his breath.
“Just breathe,” Tingting sighed. She unhooked the fuzzy bear keychain hanging from her bag, handing it over so Ram had something to pet since his dogs weren’t nearby. “I don’t like to interfere but-”
“Since when?” Tang interrupted, earning a death stare. “Admit it. You’ve been looking for an opening to be able to meddle in Ram and King’s relationship.”
Ram’s breath hitched at the word relationship. Was he in a relationship? Or, rather, had he been in a relationship? He didn’t think he was in one right now.
“Yes, you are.” When Duen answered his questions, Ram realized he’d said all that out loud. His cheeks felt hot. “Don’t worry. Sometimes it feels like you aren’t or that you never were. But that’s mostly just nerves. It’s going to get better. It will.”
But Ram didn’t think his friend was right this time.
***
On day thirteen, Ram needed to stop at the library. He knew it was a dangerous location but it wasn’t until he saw King sitting by himself at a table near the windows that he realized just how much of a mistake it truly was. He should have taken another way past this table because this was King’s favorite spot. It was the best place to internalize the words on the page, he’d always said, because he could see green, growing things at the same time.
All Ram could do was stare. He’d forgotten what he was doing in this building or why he’d told himself over and over that he would walk in, get the book, and walk out. He memorized the line of the man’s jaw, noticing the paleness of his skin. Had he not been out in the sun recently? There was no tuft of gauze sticking out of his hair which meant the stitches had come out but he was absent-mindedly rubbing at the spot. Was it sore? Did it itch?
The shirt King was wearing wasn’t one of his own but that wasn’t surprising. It might have been Tee’s or even Mek’s. Who was he staying with if he wasn’t staying at the condo? Were they feeding him? Making sure he slept instead of staring at his books all night long?
King turned his head, looking up to meet Ram’s gaze and then letting his eyes flicker down again. Ram thought he saw a flicker of a smile or, at the very least recognition. When King looked up again, though, there was nothing in his face. Nothing in his eyes. His gaze swept over Ram like he wasn’t even there.
Ram’s chin fell to his chest, willing himself to breath normally. He didn’t know how to fix this situation so King would look at him again with those warm, fathomless eyes and the wide, bright smile. At this point, King could have said anything and Ram would have fallen on his knees in front of him in thankfulness to once again be a part of his life.
I should not have kissed you, he wanted to say. I should have kept my emotions to myself and been happy to be your friend. That’s all I ever wanted. I just want to be in your life. I don’t need anything else.
When he looked up again, another boy was sitting across from King, bathed in that wide, bright smile. It was a smile for everyone. It didn’t mean anything special. Certainly not what Ram had always thought it meant.
Ram turned and ran from the library. He kept running until he got back to the condo. He put on a hoodie, not even acknowledging that this was the hoodie he’d always worn when he was training back when he was younger. He could hide when he was wearing this. His running shoes were at the bottom of the closet where he’d thrown them when he’d taken them out of the bag on that first night. Since coming here, he hadn’t needed them. Now, he laced them up without giving it another thought.
Miles of pavement later, he fell into a deep sleep on the couch in the condo. This wasn’t right. None of it felt right. But he was too tired to think about it. Too tired to care.
***
That night, his mom called in a panic. His dad had left a note on the kitchen counter that he was taking a trip with “a friend” and would be packing up his things when he got back. The rent on the house was paid up through the end of next month.
“What are you going to do?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
“I... I don’t know.”
“I’m coming home. We’ll figure it-”
“You have classes. You need to stay-”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice firm as he spoke in English. “I’m coming home. You won’t go through this alone.”
“Thank you,” she answered, also in English.
The spark of hate that he’d harbored for his father blossomed and grew into a ferocious beast. Its teeth and jaws aching to rip into someone, inflicting misery that rivaled his own. Before he could control it, the best found the fragile stalk of hope that King was nurturing in his heart... tearing it from the roots, gnashing and shredding until the plant was lying in ruined tatters.