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He didn’t know what brought it on. Mild sun poisoning perhaps? Or too much proximity to Tan, whose lack of filter must be contagious. Either way, one second Phum was about to come to blows with the strangest and rudest boy he’d ever met, and the next. Well.
“You’re really pretty,” said Phum dazedly, gazing at flashing eyes and a sneering pink mouth.
Silence.
And then... everybody reacted all at once.
“Heeehhh?” Tan cried, in tones that hurtled past “deafening” and were rocketing fast towards “earth-shattering.” His head swiveled to-and-fro between Phum and Peem, jaw hanging open. “Whaaaahaha…!?”
Mick was stunned into silence – one hand, curled into a loose fist, hovered weakly in front of his mouth. He gawked at Phum, utterly askance. Beer’s eyes were closed. Either he’d fainted upright or had simply decided he’d seen enough.
The gravity of what he’d just said began to sink in. So did panic. What have I done? Horrified, Phum could only stare at the strange, angry boy he’d just – oh, he might be sick – called pretty.
Warring expressions darted across a slender face. The stranger looked like he didn’t know if he should be angry or confused. “Wh—are you making fun of me?” he demanded, lips pulling back into a snarl. “What kind of asshole are you?”
“No!” Phum said, eyes widening. “I didn’t – I wasn’t – I really do think you’re pretty!”
Then he sucked in a breath because why had he done it again why why why?
Mick winced and let out a pained hiss. Tan made a noise like a deflating balloon. Beer had opened his eyes, but only to now look beseechingly at the heavens.
Phum turned to them in a wordless plea for help. These were his closest friends in the world. Next to his brother, they were the only people he trusted. Surely one or all of them could get him out of this mess!
He locked eyes with Tan. Whatever Tan saw in Phum’s face must have convinced him to act, because he nodded and grabbed the stranger’s shoulder.
“Peem,” Tan said, uncharacteristically serious (Phum quickly noted and memorized the name, then hated himself for doing so). “I’ve known Phum for a long time. He’s becoming like a brother to me, hopefully. Trust me when I say… he must really think you’re pretty! I’ve never seen him act like this before!” Tan grinned. “Wow, he might even be in love!”
“Tan, you asshole!” Phum wailed, all while his former best friend cackled like a drunk hyena and Peem blinked, bewildered. “I’m never letting you near Fang again!”
Tan stuck his tongue out and ran off, laughing. “I know how this one goes!” he yelled back. Why he had his hands in the air like he’d just scored a goal, Phum had no idea. There was no way his sensible older brother would end up with a weirdo like that.
Someone sighed. Beer came up next to him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Ducking close, he said softly, “This would be a good time to apologize for the painting.” Then, tilting his head in a ‘let’s go’ motion at Mick, he walked away. Mick followed after flashing Phum an encouraging smile.
Truly the worst possible friends.
Phum ground his teeth together, glaring at the ground. No. He refused. It had been an accident! You walk by a football pitch, you expect shit to happen. Was he supposed to stop and conduct a detailed survey of the area every time he kicked a ball? And it was just a stupid painting. How long did those take? How much effort? Hours? Days? Toiling over a canvas…
He sighed. I’m an asshole.
Phum turned around. At some point, Peem had walked away, trudging back to his fallen painting. He stood with his back to Phum, holding the painting up in front him; even though Phum couldn’t see his face, the slump of Peem’s shoulders betrayed everything.
Yeah… a complete asshole.
Phum gingerly made his way to him. Peem didn’t look in his direction, his eyes fixed on the ruined canvas. Phum took a second to examine the work: a large, foam-crested wave rose under a serene sky, all placid blues and gentle greens. As he took it in, a sense of calm washed over Phum like cool waters.
“Pretty,” he said.
Peem whirled around to stare at him, incredulous.
“The painting!” Phum sputtered, cheeks going hot. “I meant the painting.”
Peem eyed him for an excruciating few seconds before snorting derisively. “It used to be,” he grumbled.
Phum flinched. “Right. Did you… was it for a class assignment?”
That touched a nerve, because Peem’s upper lip curled and he said, almost in a growl, “It was for an exhibition. Do you know how hard I worked on this? What I just lost out on?”
Oh. Phum could feel his shoulders drawing closer towards his ears as he shrank into himself. “I – I didn’t realize.”
“You didn’t care. All you wanted was your ball back! And now you’re only here because you want to hit on me or something.” The disgust in Peem’s voice was like a slap. Phum swallowed.
“That’s not why, I promise. I’m sorry I called you pretty. It slipped out. And I’m sorry about the painting. I ruined your hard work. Can you forgive me? I’ll buy you a new canvas and new paints.”
Even as he said it, Phum cursed himself. Would Peem think he was the type to just throw money around?
Peem sighed. “You don’t have to do that,” he said, almost wearily. “I’ll just have to remake this in time for the next exhibition.” He caught Phum’s eye and smirked. “You look like a puppy that chewed up the slippers. Don’t worry, I have plenty of time. And the next piece will probably come out better. Practice makes perfect, right?”
Did he just call me a puppy? Phum wondered, a strange tingly feeling running up his spine.
“I know I don’t have to buy you anything,” Phum said with a sniff. “I’m going to anyway. Because you’re Tan’s friend. I don’t want him beating me up. I’ve heard he’s got quite the punch.”
“Scared of Tan? Okay,” said Peem with a laugh. “You can work off your debt. But only until the painting’s done. You know, Tan’s been wanting us to meet his engineering buddies. I don’t think this is how he planned it.”
Phum grinned. “It could’ve gone better. Sorry.”
“You will be,” said Peem with a wicked flash of teeth that definitely did not do something for Phum. “When you explain to my friend Q why I couldn’t exhibit my painting. You’ll do it tonight, when we all get together for drinks. I’ll text you the address. Bring your other engineering friends.”
“Oh,” said Phum weakly. “Okay.”
Peem hefted his painting in one hand and walked away, after punching his number into Phum’s cell phone. “You know,” he called over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re rather pretty too!”
Phum blushed.