The problem started because Krit was bored.
Which was never a good sign.
"Let's skip class."
Mali didn't even look up from her notebook.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because we're in class."
"That sounds made up."
Phuwin rested his head on the desk.
"I don't care what you do."
Krit pointed at him immediately.
"See? He's depressed again."
"I'm not depressed."
"You're staring at a wall."
"It's a whiteboard."
"Exactly."
Mr. Chai turned around.
"Is there something you'd like to share with the class?"
All three immediately looked down.
"No, sir."
By lunch, Krit was still bored.
Which meant everyone else had a problem.
"Come on."
"No."
"Come on."
"No."
"Come on."
"Stop saying it."
Krit grinned.
"Rooftop."
Mali paused.
Phuwin looked up.
"The roof is locked."
"Usually."
That smile was suspicious.
Very suspicious.
Twenty minutes later—
They were on the roof.
"HOW?" Mali demanded.
"Trade secret."
"You bribed someone."
"Trade. Secret."
"You definitely bribed someone."
Krit refused to answer.
The rooftop wasn't anything special.
Just concrete.
Old railings.
A few forgotten chairs.
Bangkok stretching endlessly beyond the school walls.
But somehow—
it felt different up there.
Like the school couldn't reach them.
Like teachers and homework and expectations were happening somewhere else.
Far away.
Phuwin sat on the edge of a low platform.
Not dangerously.
Just enough to see over the wall.
The wind was stronger up there.
Cooler.
"Okay," Krit announced.
"New rule."
Mali groaned.
"Why is it always a rule with you?"
"Because rules are important."
"They literally aren't."
"Anyway."
Krit ignored her.
"Anything said on this rooftop stays on this rooftop."
Phuwin laughed.
"What is this? A secret club?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Mali rolled her eyes.
"Fine. What's the point?"
Krit thought for a second.
Then shrugged.
"No idea."
Silence settled.
Not awkward.
Just comfortable.
Below them, they could hear distant voices from the school grounds.
Someone shouting.
Someone laughing.
A whistle from the sports field.
Life continuing.
"Can I ask something?"
Phuwin spoke first.
That was unusual.
Krit immediately looked suspicious.
"Depends."
"Have you ever liked anyone?"
Mali blinked.
Krit froze.
"Wow."
"What?"
"You went straight for violence."
Phuwin sat up slightly.
"It's a normal question."
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"No."
Mali crossed her arms.
"Answer the question."
"Traitor."
"Answer."
Krit looked trapped.
Which was rare.
Very rare.
"Maybe."
Phuwin stared.
Mali stared.
"Maybe?"
"Maybe."
"That means yes," Mali said.
"No, it means maybe."
"It means yes."
"It doesn't."
"It does."
Krit groaned.
"I hate both of you."
"Who was it?" Phuwin asked.
"No."
"Come on."
"No."
"You ask about my life all the time."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Because your life is public entertainment."
Phuwin threw a bottle cap at him.
For the first time in weeks—
the conversation wasn't about Phuwin.
Or Arthit.
Or heartbreak.
It was just them.
Being seventeen.
Being nosy.
Being annoying.
Krit stood up suddenly.
Walked toward the railing.
Looked out over the city.
His smile faded slightly.
Only for a second.
"You know what's weird?"
Neither of them answered.
"Everyone acts like we're supposed to know everything already."
Mali frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Krit shrugged.
"Like adults."
"Study hard."
"Choose your future."
"Know what you want."
His voice wasn't joking anymore.
"And I'm sitting here wondering what I'm doing after school."
The rooftop became quieter.
Phuwin looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Sometimes they forgot.
Krit always acted fearless.
Always loud.
Always joking.
But he was still seventeen too.
Still confused too.
"That's normal."
Mali said it softly.
Krit laughed.
"Is it?"
"Yeah."
"You sound very confident."
"I'm not."
That made all three of them laugh.
Because that was the truth.
None of them knew anything.
Not really.
Not about love.
Not about the future.
Not about themselves.
A football suddenly flew onto the roof.
SLAM.
All three jumped.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Phuwin nearly fell off the platform.
Krit grabbed his chest dramatically.
"I saw my ancestors."
Mali burst out laughing.
The door to the rooftop opened.
A student peeked out.
"Sorry! Can we get our ball back?"
Krit picked it up.
Thought about it.
Smiled.
"Oh no."
Mali pointed at him.
"Don't."
"I'm thinking about it."
"Don't."
"I'm absolutely thinking about it."
"Krit."
He launched the ball to the opposite side of the roof.
The student screamed.
"WHY?!"
Krit ran.
Immediately.
"WORTH IT!"
Five minutes later—
Three teenagers were sprinting down school stairs while someone chased them.
And for the first time in a while—
Nobody was thinking about heartbreak.
Or love.
Or confusion.
Just laughter.
And getting away before they got caught.
End of Chapter 18