Chapter 2: Shattered

 

"What on earth are you doing with that thing, nong Mick?" 

 

"Oh, sawadee, p'Per," Mick says respectfully, putting down the khlui. Per was in the music club too, and was one year ahead of Mick. "P'Om told me to practice with the khlui before I -I start on the horn."

 

"Ooh the French horn? That's a tough one alright. I've played it a bit before, you know. Want some advice?" Per asked. It was break time yet again, and this time several other students were in the music room too.

 

"Really, p'Per? That'd be awesome!" Mick said eagerly. 

 

Per motioned him to come closer. "The trick is to make your lips like this," the older boy pursed his lips. "Like you're gonna kiss a Victoria's Secret model, you know?"

 

Mick blushed furiously, and nodded, mimicking Per. "And then?"

 

"And then you do this." Per came closer to Mick, and suddenly blew a loud raspberry right into the younger boys face, showering him with saliva.

 

Mick yelped with surprise, falling backwards and used his sleeve to wipe the droplets off his face as Per howled with laughter.

 

"And just what is happening here?" The tall shadow of an angry-sounding senior fell on Per, whose laughter died immediately.

 

"Oh, er, n-nothing p'Film," Per said hastily. Film's nostrils flared as he glared between Mick and Per. "I was just giving some advice to nong Mick about the horn."

 

"Really? Even I don't dare teach him but you do, suddenly you're the expert?" He said dangerously. He leaned closer to Per, narrowing his eyes. "Do you remember what I said about nong Mick the other day? And what I'd promise to do?"

 

"Yes, p'. I remember, p'. Oh I should probably practice on, er, band stuff right now, p'" Per scrambled to his feet and scampered off to another corner of the room.

 

"If anyone else is bothering you, come straight to me and I'll take care of them, alright?" Film said to Mick. "Anyone at all, even if it's the seniors."

 

"Thanks, but no one has been bothering me, p'" Mick said in a small voice. He wondered exactly what threats Film had made, he'd never seen anyone move out of the way so quickly. Had Film mentioned something about Mick to the other club members? No wonder Mick was left alone most of the time, even with other club members in his year around.

 

The truth was, Mick felt left out. He'd thought that he'd get to know more people by joining a club but it had been almost half a year and no one had really talked to him, and now he knew why. When the other members joked around and traded insults he often wished he could be part of them too. He hadn't even been upset at Per's little trick, just more surprised than anything, even secretly glad that the skinny 10th grader had paid him any attention at all.

 

"You're still fiddling around with that thing?" Film asked, pointing to the khlui with his chin. "I guess Om hasn't asked you to continue with lessons yet." 

 

Mick shook his head silently. It had been two weeks now and Om hadn't so much as glanced in his direction, even while they were in the same room.

 

"We may have to ask Noh, then," Film sighed. Noh Napat was the club's president, but he mostly left band matters to Film and Om. Mick hardly ever saw him, and hadn't even spoken more than a few words beyond introductions.

 

"Ask Noh what?" Om popped up behind Film, as if by magic. 

 

"Speak of the ing devil. You've been ignoring nong Mick and just as I was about to ask Noh to teach him the horn, here you appear," scolded Film.

 

"Noh wouldn't know which end of the horn to blow," Om snorted derisively. "Anyway he's too busy blowing Phun nowadays for the club's money."

 

The two seniors laughed uproariously at their inside joke while Mick looked at them with a bewildered expression.

 

"Mick!" Om shouted suddenly, making the boy jump. 

 

"Y-yes, p'Om?"

 

"Stay back after school. Let's see if we can salvage anything of you."

 

Mick's heart leaped, and he gave an eager smile. "Sure thing, p'!"

 

***

 

Once again, Mick found himself alone with the handsome senior, trying very hard not to make a fool of himself.

 

I will not blush, I will not stutter, I will not cry no matter what happens, the boy told himself. It seemed to work too, as Om was in a better mood and although Mick made a few slip-ups, he merely corrected Mick without scolding like he did before. 

 

The lesson ended all too soon, but it was almost five by the time Om told him to pack things up. 

 

"How are you going back?" Om asked.

 

"My mom usually picks me up, but I told her I'd be late so I'm going to take the bus," Mick said. Om just nodded. 

 

"Well, go on ahead, I'll lock up the room," he said. "Oh, good job today by the way. You've really improved. Not just a pretty face, then," he winked at Mick before going around to secure the room.

 

Mick felt like he was walking on air as he left the room. Praise from Om was so difficult to come by, he wished he could've recorded it. He ducked into the toilet and looked at his still-grinning face in the mirror.

 

Finally, someone who actually thinks I'm worth something, he thought. He looked around, making sure the toilet was empty to use the cubicle. It was just purely out of habit, he was still too shy to use the urinals even after all these years. You never know which bully was gonna creep up on you while your back was turned.

 

Mick heard a sound outside his cubicle just as he flushed. He froze. "P'Om, is that you?" He called out in a shaky voice. 

 

A low chuckle that echoed around the boys toilet was his only response. Mick tried the door of his cubicle, but it was stuck, as if something was jamming it from the outside. "H-hey, this isn't funny anymore! Please let me out!"

 

Mick tried to quell his rising panic as he struggled with the door futilely. He patted his pockets for his phone but to his horror realised that it was still in his bag, on the sink counter.

 

He started banging on the walls of his cubicle, almost in tears now. "Whoever you are please just open the door!" 

 

"That's what you get for up to the seniors, you crybaby!" Came a muffled voice Mick didn't recognize. "You can stay in there until morning - if the ghosts don't get you first!"

 

"It's not my fault!" Mick cried but the door to the toilet slammed and he was truly alone. The only light now came from tiny windows high up on the wall, and it would be dark soon. Mick sat down on the toilet seat and put his head into his hands. He genuinely thought he'd left the bullies behind in junior high, but here he was all over again.

 

I didn't do anything to deserve this! I just wanted people to like me, he thought sadly. Mick gulped and tried to calm himself down. He looked up at the cubicle walls. They didn't reach all the way to the ceiling, he could climb up if he really had to. He took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears and snot off his face.

 

Just as he stood up, he heard the door open. Was his tormentor back? He froze, trying not to make a sound. 

 

"Mick?" Om's voice echoed through the cubicle walls

 

"P'Om!" Mick sobbed with relief. "I'm in here!"

 

"What the ? Wait a minute," he said, and Mick heard him clear away whatever was blocking his door, before opening it.

 

Mick had never been happier to see anyone in his life. He flung himself at Om without thinking and hugged him tightly, unable to stop himself from shivering.

 

He felt the senior pat his head awkwardly and make soothing noises. "Hey it's okay, I'm here now."

 

Mick suddenly realized what he was doing and let go of Om with a start. "I'm sorry p'Om, I-I-"

 

"It's alright. What happened? I went out to look for you at the bus stop but you weren't there and the boys hadn't seen you."

 

Mick just shook his head mutely. He didn't want Om to pity him or seek revenge for him, that would only make things worse, he knew. His gaze travelled to the broom his bully had used to wedge against the door. It was obvious what had happened, anyway.

 

Om realized this and growled through clenched teeth. "When I catch the person that did this to you I'm going to flush his ing face down the ing toilet bowl." He started for the door.

 

Mick caught Om's hand before he could leave. "No, p'Om, I'm okay, really. I didn't get to see the person who did this anyway. Maybe they just mistook me for someone else, heh." He let go of Om hastily, before adding "I wasn't really scared."

 

Om looked at the boy. Mick's wet eyes and red nose were in stark contrast to the brave face he was putting up. He didn't know why anyone would do this to such a shy, lonely boy, but no one, and he meant no one, did this to one of his club members under his watch. His blood boiled in his veins but he forced himself to calm down, for Mick's sake.

 

"Um, p'Om, have you seen my bag?"

 

They finally found it in some bushes outside the toilet. It looked like it had been stomped all over, but nothing seemed to be missing. Mick's heart fell once he pulled out his iPhone. The screen had shattered, even though the phone itself seemed to be working. His mom and older sister had given it to him as a birthday present this year and he'd promised to take care of it. Tears formed in his eyes once again, and this time he made no attempt to hold them back.

 

"I'm sorry, Mick," Om said quietly. 

 

"It's alright, p'. See, at least it's still working," Mick sniffled in a small, hopeful voice. He kept his head down, and turned away from Om. He didn't want the senior to see him like this. 

 

Two strong arms reached around a surprised Mick and hugged him tightly. He felt Om put his chin on his head. "Nothing's too broken that can't be repaired with a little time and effort, right, little mouse?"

 

Mick nodded, closing his eyes. In Om's arms he felt warm and safe, and nothing could ever hurt him.