Chapter 32

Sky Wongravee

I never really thought about it.

Why would I?

May's been around for a while now. She's one of those people who blends into the background of my life without making a fuss, but somehow, she's always there. In the corner of my eye, in the group texts, in the empty seat beside me during lectures. It's just... normal.

At first, I didn't think much of it. She's cute, sure, and she's always had this easy way of smiling, but that's nothing to get worked up over. I never really thought about how much I've started to get used to her presence until recently.

I notice it now.

The way she just casually slides into my space, not even thinking twice. How I used to feel uncomfortable when she brushed against me or leaned a little too close, but now, I don't even flinch. I just let it happen, like it's perfectly natural. She touches my arm to get my attention, and I just look at her and smile, my body reacting without hesitation. It doesn't feel weird anymore, even though it used to make my skin crawl.

I've noticed the way my stomach does this little flip when she walks into the room, a quiet, almost imperceptible shift, like something inside me is paying attention. I can't explain it, and I'm not sure I want to. It's just... there.

Maybe it's the stress. Exams were rough—exhausting, really. Everyone was on edge, barely holding it together. Late nights in the library, endless cups of coffee, and trying to memorize things that my brain didn't want to remember. It's easy to get caught up in the chaos of it all, but when May appeared, everything seemed to slow down just a little.

I'm sure it's just exhaustion, though. That's all.

She always makes sure to come by when I'm studying. It's not a big deal, but somehow, I look forward to it. When she shows up, her presence seems to give me a little burst of energy, a reason to focus again. I catch myself smiling a little more, laughing at her jokes a little louder. I even find myself making conversation with her without feeling like I'm just doing it out of politeness. It's like I enjoy talking to her now.

I never used to.

But there's this thing she does. Whenever she gets close, I feel that flutter in my chest again, that quiet stir I can't explain. It's strange, but I push it down. I'm not going to make a big deal out of it. She's just someone I'm getting used to, nothing more.

I look at her across the study table. She's got this little smirk on her face, like she's caught me staring. My face heats up, and I quickly glance away, grabbing a notebook and pretending to focus on something important. But I can't ignore how her eyes stay on me, and how I feel strangely... seen.

"Sky." Her voice cuts through my thoughts. I glance up, surprised she's talking to me.

"What?"

She raises an eyebrow, a playful look in her eyes. "I asked if you wanted to grab something to eat after this. You spaced out on me."

I blink, trying to focus. My mind's been racing, but her voice is steady, calm, and it pulls me out of my head. It's like a little jolt, reminding me that I'm here, in the moment. I find myself nodding before I even think about it.

"Uh... yeah, sure." I smile, not sure why I feel this lightness in my chest.

Her smile widens, and I feel the familiar stir again. I try to brush it off, chalking it up to hunger or stress. Nothing more than that.

It's just... May.

But why does it feel like everything shifts when she's around?

Why do I suddenly feel so much more aware of every small detail when she's near me? Why does my stomach flip when she touches my arm?

I ignore it, and she doesn't seem to notice. She just laughs and turns back to her notes, and the moment passes, but I can't help but wonder if maybe it's not just stress anymore. Maybe... it's something else.

But I'm not ready to think about it.

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Nani Hirunkit

The noise of the café hums in the background, but I don't really hear it. My mind is elsewhere—lost in a swirl of thoughts, frustrations, and things left unsaid. I'm sitting at one of the tables, not really eating. The cup of coffee in front of me sits untouched, cooling as I stare at it like it holds all the answers. The others are talking, their voices a blur to me, muffled by the walls in my mind that I've built up over the past few days.

Dew is laughing at something Win said, his voice bright and carefree as always. Joong and Dunk are in the middle of some argument about something trivial, probably. But I'm not paying attention to any of it. My gaze drifts from my untouched coffee to the window, the street outside busy and full of life. It feels like everyone has their place in the world—except me.

I don't feel like I belong here. Not completely. I can't shake the feeling that there's something missing, something I'm not quite getting. The world outside seems to be moving in rhythm, while I'm stuck, watching it from the sidelines. I lean back in my chair, my fingers drumming absently on the side of my coffee cup, as if somehow that could pull me out of my head.

I've been like this for a while now, distant. Quiet. Always holding myself back from the others. I've been part of the group for a while now, but something's different. I'm not sure what it is, but it feels like there's an invisible wall between me and the rest of them. Between me and Dew. Between me and Win. Between me and everyone else who's so effortlessly easy with each other.

Maybe it's because I don't know how to fit in anymore. I've been trying to keep up the mask, the one where everything's fine, where I'm just one of them, but it's been cracking. The cracks are getting bigger, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep pretending that everything's okay. I'm good at pretending, sure. But lately, it's been getting harder.

Dew laughs again, the sound pulling me from my thoughts. I glance up, catching Dew's eye. There's warmth in Dew's gaze, that familiar, comforting spark. And for a moment, it feels like everything is okay again. Like I can just breathe, be part of the group, part of the life Dew's built around me. But then it fades just as quickly, like something's been taken from me before I can fully grasp it.

I force a smile, nodding along as Dew continues his story. But it doesn't feel real. Not like before. Before, when I could laugh and talk with them and not feel like I was losing a part of myself with every passing minute.

A sharp pang shoots through my chest, uninvited, and I rub at it absently, not wanting anyone to notice. I don't want them to know that something's wrong. That I feel like I'm falling apart on the inside, little by little. I don't want them to see the cracks.

I look down at my hands, tracing the lines of my fingers absently. My stomach churns with an emotion I don't know how to name. Is it frustration? Loneliness? The uncertainty of it all? The feeling that I don't know where I belong? It's all of it, wrapped up in a tight little ball that sits heavy in my chest.

I feel it in every part of my body. The ache of being out of sync with the world around me. The discomfort of knowing that I've somehow strayed from the path, but not knowing how to find my way back.

I exhale a slow breath, feeling the weight of it all press on my shoulders. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe it's the stress of exams, the constant pressure to do well, to be the one who doesn't falter. Maybe that's all it is. But I'm starting to doubt that.

I feel Dew's hand on my shoulder before I hear the voice.

"Hey, you alright?" Dew's voice is low, concerned.

I look up, startled, and for a moment, our eyes lock. Dew's face is soft, his usual teasing smirk replaced by something more genuine, more grounded. There's no judgment in his eyes, just concern, a quiet kind of care that makes me feel both relieved and overwhelmed.

"I'm fine," I say, my voice a little too quick, too sharp. I don't mean to sound defensive, but the words come out that way anyway. I don't know why.

Dew doesn't buy it. His hand stays on my shoulder, warm and steady, and I can feel the weight of it. I feel like I should pull away, like I shouldn't let Dew get too close. But I don't. I let Dew's hand stay there, steady and firm, grounding me in a way that nothing else does.

"You sure?" Dew asks, his voice softer now. "You've been kinda distant lately. If you need to talk, you know we're here, right?"

I swallow, suddenly feeling like I'm being smothered by my own thoughts. I know Dew is trying to help. I know Dew cares. But I can't bring myself to say anything. Not yet. Maybe never.

Instead, I just nod, a weak smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. "Yeah, I'm fine." I say it again, though I know it's not true. I don't know how to explain it—how to explain the mess inside my head that never seems to settle.

Dew doesn't push me. He just squeezes my shoulder once before letting his hand fall away, like he's giving me the space I need. But the warmth from Dew's touch lingers, and I don't know if that makes things better or worse.

The rest of the group continues talking, oblivious to the tension I'm feeling. For a brief moment, I'm thankful for that. I'm thankful for their laughter, their chatter, their normalcy. But it also makes me feel more alone, like I'm stuck on the outside looking in.

And then, for reasons I don't fully understand, my gaze drifts to Win, sitting across from me, laughing at something Joong said. Win's face is open, easy, and somehow I feel like it's the only thing that makes sense in the chaos of my thoughts.

I don't know what that means. I don't know why I feel this way. I don't know anything right now, except that maybe—just maybe—I'm starting to see the world a little differently.

Maybe that's the problem. I'm starting to see things I wasn't ready to face.