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Breathe, breathe, breathe.
— Hello?
— Oh, they picked up. Um, hello? Do you know Billkin, by any chance?
I had to take deep breaths just to pick up the call, yet the voice I heard was not his. I put the phone down and checked the name on the screen.
“Billkin”. It's correct, though.
— Yes. Who is this?
— I am Billkin's schoolmate. He is really drunk right now.
— He's… drunk? Where is he?
I said, slipping on the pair of pants that were hanging on the chair.
I've never received such a call before. Billkin is drunk? Wow. It seems like he's all grown up now.
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After riding a taxi, I arrived in front of my alma mater. It’s the area I visited frequently up until last year, with lined-up bars and their flashy signs. Without hesitation, I headed towards that place, its location instantly appearing in my head just from hearing its name, my feet walking with familiarity as if I had just been here yesterday.
When I opened the door, I was hit with the smell of dormant air and alcohol all at once. The bar was as messy as I expected, filled with noisy music and sounds of laughter and chatter. I stretched out my neck like a meerkat, passing through the people sitting in groups and examining their faces. Finally, he came into view. An obnoxious drunkard who had bravely fallen on top of a table, his two arms stretched out like Superman.
— Here you are.
— Oh, the person who answered the call? Mr. PP?
— Yes, that's me.
— Billkin is very drunk!
Yeah, you people look really drunk, too.
— I see that. What happened?
— I don't know. As soon as he sat down, he began drinking alcohol. Lots of it. He just gulped it all down with his two hands.
— Did something happen in school?
— I don’t think so. He suddenly invited us to drink, then got knocked out like this by himself.
— Then, I'll take him home.
However, Billkin wouldn't budge, so his friends had to pick up his slumped body and put it on my shoulder.
— But… who are you, Mr. PP?
— Me? Um, just an older friend of his?
— Oh.
— How did you end up calling me?
— Actually, we had plans after, but he ended up like this… On his list of favorite contacts, your name was at the top.
Oh. I'm on his favorite contacts list?
Considering how weak this young man has become, this was not a situation I could handle alone easily even if I gathered all of the universe’s energy. Thus, despite the help of his kind friends, exiting the threshold of the bar took a while. I put Billkin up against the wall and supported him with my body.
— Hey, try standing with your legs. Ugh, you're heavy.
Wow, this is a really hopeless situation. Why is the elevator so slow?
The third floor is a height you could just stagger down if you're sober. But carrying a drunk person while going down would be impossible. If I make any mistake, it'd be bad for both of us.
— I'll go now. Please get home safely, everyone.
The elevator arrived. I carried the slumped Billkin and guided him inside. After I pressed the button for the 1st floor, I saw him already trickled down like candle wax, the smell of alcohol reeking from his mouth, so I went and picked him up again—
— Please wait!
The heck?! That shocked me.
As the door was about to close, a pale hand with scarlet fingernails thrust itself into the crevice.
— Um… can you please put this in his bag?
A female student with short, blond hair held out a small box. They were chocolates.
— Even if you give it to him now, he wouldn’t know.
— It's fine.
— You should give it to him when he's sober. Not in this state.
— …Please.
— Alright.
Holding out my hand that was on Billkin's arm, I took the box she was holding out.
Sure, there are things you can't give to someone when they're sober.
The box left the girl's hand, and she went back into the bar with a nervous and bashful face. Shortly after, the door closed and the elevator carrying the two of us headed down.
‘Thanks for that day.’
I tried not to read it, but my eyes ended up seeing the words on the box. The name of the sender is not written, but if there's something he'll be able to understand just from the words “ that day,” it means their relationship is not an ordinary one.
The elevator opened on the 1st floor. Carrying a slumped Billkin on my shoulders as if he’s Santa's pouch, I headed towards the taxi bay.
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— To Krit Building Intersection, please.
I put Billkin inside the taxi first before sitting beside him. His back was stiff, and his forehead and nape were sweaty.
Ah, it's hot.
I rolled down the window, and that’s when the heavily wrinkled box of chocolates caught my eye. The box of chocolates that had been pressed down by my hand, which in turn had turned black from carrying Billkin. The one that was given by the unnamed, blonde girl.
Just as she requested, I put the box inside Billkin's bag.
You’re a grown man now, huh, Billkin?
You’ve grown up already.
Watching Billkin breathing as he leaned on the side of the taxi, I recalled the time when he was still an examinee who fell asleep while answering questionnaires, the days he visited the faculty office with notebook spring marks deeply carved on his cheekbones.
Billkin was the savior who helped me give up my dream of becoming a teacher.
I met all kinds of students during my month of student teaching, but in my opinion, Billkin's character was the hardest to deal with. Though he wasn't the type to openly cause trouble, nor was he the kind to be absent without notice or disrupt classes, he strangely didn't fit in. Should I say he was a student I couldn't predict? For instance, while the homeroom teacher would scold a kid for some mistake, Billkin would stand up nonchalantly, kick the classroom door, and then leave, or he would run to the gym alone even though it wasn't time for gym class.
In other words, he was a bit peculiar.
To add to that, their class' homeroom teacher was pregnant at the time and rarely scolded the kids harshly, so I had to bear all the hardships during that one month as a student teacher.
To think that that kid somehow got his act together and was able to go to college.
That was a good time.
Twenty years old. The age when a boy becomes a young man. The age when you undergo all kinds of trial and error and become an adult. The age when you brag like you've done amazing things despite still being an empty shell. The age when it's easy to become discouraged, to laugh, and to cry as your heart is flung here and there. The bizarre age when the only thing you trust is yourself, and even if you rush into things, you feel like you won't break easily.
You are at that age, and you’re even receiving someone's love, too.
I was mindlessly about to touch his tangled bangs when Billkin opened his eyes, narrowing them. Though I was surprised, I pretended nothing was wrong and retracted my hand. He reached into his bag and, after rummaging here and there, he took out the box of chocolates.
— Oh, that's… A while ago, back at the bar—
And then, he threw it out of the window.
— Hey! Hey! Why did you do that?
— Teacher, are you a delivery man? Why did you accept it?
— Your friend told me to give it to you…
— So? Why did you take it?
Billkin frowned at me, sitting straight with his waist up. He then took a peek outside.
— Sir, I'm getting out now. Please pull over.
— No, not yet. No, sir. Please keep driving.
Despite me trying to stop him, Billkin kept urging the taxi driver. Eventually, after becoming annoyed by our quarrel, the driver stopped the car on the side of the road. And as I fumbled for the wallet inside my pocket, Billkin went on to pay the fee with his card before pushing me out of the car.
— Hey! It’s still far away. Why are we getting off here?
— Who was that person?
— That person?
Is this because he's drunk? What is he saying all of a sudden?
— That person. That woman… That woman who was wearing a red scarf today…
— Red scarf?
— Ugh, the person who drives you home every day. Damn it, don't pretend you don't know.
— Oh, our assistant manager— Hey, how do you know that?
— Why? Why does she drive you home?
— I think our houses are in the same direction. It's kind of like the concept of sharing economy. Though it’s just me being in her debt.
— Sharing economy, you say… Are you in love with her?
— What?
Because of the unexpected turn of the conversation, I started looking around. Fortunately, there weren't any people around us. Still, I was worried someone would take notice of us standing face to face like this, quarreling under the streetlamp. Not to mention this talk we're having.
— Please answer me, hurry.
— How can I be in love with her? That person is married.
— And what if she's married? So, if she wasn't married, would you fall for her?
— Is nothing getting in your head now because you're drunk?
Billkin, who had turned red under his eyes, staggered in place. I rushed to grab his arm, but he pulled away and brushed my hand off with unnecessarily big movements.
— So are you in love with her or what? I’m confused.
— I am not in love with her—
— Don't ride in that car, then.
Billkin said, cutting off the answer I didn't even finish, his rounded eyes looking half-lost.
— How did you even know about her?
— Ugh, just answer me. Tell me you won't ride in that car.
— I'm asking, how did you know?
— What do you think? Of course, I saw it.
He saw it? He saw me getting out of that car? He saw me getting out in front of my house?
— So... you went to my house?
— …I wanted to see you. What's wrong with that?
Billkin said, quickly tucking his head down. Just like in the movies, his hair swayed to the night breeze like the ocean waves, and something in me crashed down like an avalanche.
— I just went because I wanted to see you. And I only planned to take a peek and leave. But then I saw you getting out of a stranger's car, every day!
— …Every day?
— No, not every day…
— You should've asked me about her, then.
— If I asked, then I heard something I didn't wanna hear, who's gonna have to deal with it? You? Me? *Who?
— Something you don't wanna hear?
— You know… that she's your girlfriend. That she's the person you're currently dating. Something like that…
Billkin blurted out before faltering once again.
Though my hand instinctively reached out, I didn't hold onto him, because there was a couple walking close by. Though he was standing, Billkin was unable to keep his balance and was just swaying here and there. Seeing that, I could only tell him, "Wake up, stand up straight.” And since I was afraid he’d say something dumb, I’d also blurt out “Hey! Hey!” and stop him from speaking whenever I’d see his lips move even slightly.
It wasn't until the couple finally passed by us and went far away that I grabbed Billkin's forearm, though shortly after, he swung his arm away harshly and brushed me off again.
— Is there a reason why I can't say that?
— Of course you can't.
— Why?
— Because you told me to wait, teacher.
“Billkin, let's think about it again when you get into university. For now, your entrance exam comes first, so let's focus on that. Understand?”
At that time, I had no other choice. I couldn't bear to watch this examinee waiting in front of my house almost every day for me to come home. Sure, it was only around a month, but he was my student once, and I didn't wanna make his life more miserable when school was already hard on him. So I sat him down to answer questions, graded his mock tests, and made him study. It was purely volunteer work I didn't receive private lesson fees for.
Everything was for you to do well. Although I gave up on my dream of becoming a teacher, at the very least, you should be able to become a bright and lively 20-year-old college student.
— You told me that, then I got into college. But you never asked for me after that.
— Yeah, I didn't. Did you… wait for me?
Hearing my words, Billkin's face became oddly distorted.
— ‘Let’s think about it again’ doesn't mean ‘Wait for me,’ you know.
— You should have said something, then. If you didn't want to make a fool out of me, you should have told me, “Nothing has changed, so come to your senses and move on.” Do you have any conscience?
As he said the word “conscience,” Billkin poked me in the chest with his index finger.
— Why should I? You were adjusting to university and living well. I was also doing good on my end. So why do I have to talk to you?
— What? Did you see it, teacher? Did you see how I was living?
— …If you didn't contact me, of course that means you're living well.
— If we don't contact someone, that means we're living well. Is that the standard now? ‘No news is good news.’ Is that the kind of relationship we have? So, if I don't contact you, if I don't text or call you even once, do you think that means I'm doing fine? For me, that's definitely not the case.
— But it’s not even that special. Our relationship.
— What… Wow, you're really mean.
Back then, Billkin started studying late, yet his grades steadily soared and he eventually got admitted into the university I was attending. Still, it's a university where students from all over the nation go to, and I never imagined Billkin, who only came to his senses right before the college exam, would pass just after answering a few workbooks.
Of course, when he enters the university, I would be graduating and wouldn't be there anymore. Yet, I was secretly happy at the thought of having our names listed together as alumni on the same wall. It can be an excuse to visit the school sometimes.
— What have I been chasing and wasting my time for until now? What was I hopeful for? What was I anticipating?
But for some reason, I couldn't get in touch with Billkin like I used to, and it became harder for me to contact him.
That's right, it couldn't be helped. If I had at least met you in a student club, it would've been different. If I were a year younger than I am now, something would've happened between us already.
— Despite knowing clearly how someone feels, how could you… You're the worst. You're really the worst.
That's not true.
You don't know, but I was also in a lot of pain.
Yet, what? The worst? You're saying I'm the worst?
— Hey!
— What the—
— Do you think I wasn't worried? That I have no clue what it means for you to be a first-year university student? Do you think I don't know that you can do whatever you want and meet whoever you want at that age? Do you think I wasn't worried that you could just end up anywhere?
— …….
— What if, because of what you said to me, you’ll be bound by your hands and feet, unable to do anything, and then you would be led astray? What if you live not knowing if it was love or just a misunderstanding?
— …….
— Do you even know? Are you aware that I couldn't do anything?
Billkin, today is an unlucky day for you. I didn't want to convey the words that have been in my heart in this way. I imagined and hoped for the day we will share our feelings with words shiny as jewels and pure as a lake. I didn't want to express it by crying out half-heartedly and half-tempered like this as if I'm spitting out stones. I'm sorry, but I hope you remember that you brought this on yourself. Listen carefully.
— It's you who said you'll call me as you please but didn't. Then what? You go to my house, secretly watch me, then just leave without a word? What am I, a monkey in a zoo?
— …….
— Your name appeared on my phone screen after a long time, and I had to catch my breath and was barely able to answer it. I ran over there with excitement because I was asked to take care of you who got himself drunk. But then, this random kid runs up to you and confesses with chocolates. Even worse, I had to deliver it to you. Did you think I would be okay? Did you think I would be fine today? That I wouldn't have made any internal resolve?
— …….
— See? In the end, it's become like this. We have drifted apart.
— …….
If we had just defined our relationship as exclusively teacher and student, the story would've been different. I could just call him out of the blue, say “I'll buy you a drink, come out now!”, maybe even run off to go fishing at night after drinking.
But we've drifted too far apart for that.
The naive confession that that 18-year-old boy threw at me, I shouldn't have accepted it abruptly. I should've been decisive back then and said, “This isn't going to work.”
— So, why did you let us drift apart? Why did you distance yourself? Heck, this is not even about giving false hope. Did you forget I was waiting? Why? Because you were busy making a living?
— When did I tell you to wait?!
— …….
— I told you back then, that after you enter university, if you still feel the same, let me know.
— …….
— Because I will be waiting for you.
Billkin's eyes, which had formed a frown on the middle of his forehead, began staring into space. He must be mentally backtracking to some time a year ago. But I am sure. I said I would wait. In the first place, it was the only thing I could say.
Graduating from college and becoming an employee is quite a big change. However, it is not as life-changing as when you graduate high school and enter university. Everything that used to restrain your whole body falls off like popped balloons, and with this naked body, you build a new one. No one bothers your time, and no one forces choices on you. Only you can make your own decisions, and you take all responsibility. While dealing with all that mess, things like old relationships are put on the back burner, and pubescent emotions akin to young basil leaves are easily forgotten.
I wanted to give Billkin a chance. In order for him to not waste unnecessary emotions on a reckless love; for him to judge whether it's a feeling that can be forgotten. I at least wanted to give him time to think about it.
Because I will be waiting.
— What the heck, teacher?
— …….
— You were in love with me then.
— …I wasn’t, stupid.
— No, This is definitely… Jealousy, disappointment, and regret. You were feeling all of that.
Unbelievable. You know that? The 3-way combo of jealousy, disappointment, regret?
— I'm telling you I wasn’t.
Billkin began poking my already-lowered face downwards. Then he laughed.
What the... he's laughing at me now?
I kicked Billkin in the shin, and he jumped in pain. Then all of a sudden, he staggered so I grabbed his arm. This time, he did not push my hand away anymore.
— Alright. Let's do this then, teacher.
— Do what?
Billkin pulled down my hand that was holding his forearm and clasped it together with his own.
— I like you, teacher. Back then, and even now. That's why I waited patiently like this until today. When I'm in front of you, my heart still pounds like crazy and I still lose my mind. Just like that day.
Ah, that day. The day I finished my student teaching practice. The day you cried so much your wrist became so wet.
That was actually a nice sight to see, Billkin Putthipong.
— So, teacher…
— Mm?
— Tomorrow is Saturday, right?
— Yeah, but…
— You don't have work.
— So?
— Then stay with me now. And all throughout the weekend.
— Why?
— Because we are in love with each other now.
— Hey, don't joke around.
— Okay, I'll let go of your hand.
No, no. Wait.
While thinking of a response, I unknowingly tightened the tip of my fingers, which made Billkin laugh before firmly grasping my hand.
— Can't we just walk to your house? I also want to sober up.
— From here? No, my legs hurt. I lost all my strength carrying you.
— Then I'll carry you right now.
— No, let me go.
I pretended to shove him away with all my might, and Billkin let himself be pushed before happily coming back and grabbing my arm, with a smile I've never seen before even in high school.
— Teacher, really, let's walk together. I wanted to walk with you for a long time. While holding hands, and talking too.
— Just up to that intersection.
Shortly after, Billkin held my hand again and laced it together with his, carefully aligning the interlocks of our fingers. Then, he buries the two hands on his chest before walking.
— I really, really wanted to hold your hand, teacher!
Whenever his voice became loud, I would immediately look around. Luckily, there are no people. It was very strange that no one was passing by at this time.
Anyways, it’s warm. Your hand.
— Teacher.
— Yeah?
— You will not ride in that car again, right?
With my unoccupied hand, I flicked Billkin on the head.
— Then you should come and pick me up.
But… isn't your final exam coming up soon?
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