The doorknob rattles, and then someone starts banging on it above my head.
“Noi, open the door.” Sud’s voice is muffled through the wood.
I want to yell at him to go away, but I can barely breathe, so I concentrate on doing that instead.
Why is Sud angry with me? Why wouldn’t he talk to me before? Even when P’Arm wanted us to practice, he still couldn’t look at me for longer than a few seconds. Is he trying to ruin his big chance? Aren’t we doing all this for him? Or is he sick of me?
The terrible feeling that I can’t name but know so well gets its grip on me, whispering that Sud is going to leave me and never come back.
“S-ud,” I stammer hoarsely, but Sud can’t hear me because he’s banging on the door, and Ican’t breathe. The white heat of panic starts at my feet and travels steadily to my head, blackness edging out my vision. I try desperately to suck in air, but I can’t.
Relax. Relax. You’re only making it worse.
Too late. The black devours me, and I hear athunk, followed by a burst of pain when my head hits the floor.
***
Something acrid fills my nostrils and I suck in a breath.
“Easy, now,” someone says. My fingers curl into velvety material. When I open my eyes, I’m assaulted by bright light and immediately snap them shut again.
“Turn off the lights.” That’s P’Arm’s voice, I’m pretty sure.
Sud has left you.
Bit by bit, what happened comes back to me, followed by a wave of panic.
“Calm down, Nong.” P’Arm rubs my arm. “Breathe in and out slowly. That’s it.”
Panic recedes and embarrassment replaces it. I turn my face away and wince when pain shoots through my head.
“Careful, Nong. You’ve got a lump the size of a golf ball above your temple. Here, keep this cold pack on it.”
Icey coldness on my sore head makes me wince. I feel P’Arm move away from the couch.
Sud has left you. Left you. Left you. Left you.
A hand carefully runs through my hair, avoiding the icepack. “Noi?”
My thumping heart slows down a bit when I hear Sud’s voice.
I try opening my eyes again and am successful this time because the room is darker than before, the only light coming from a small lamp on a shelf. I’m lying on a velvet couch in the same office I locked myself in.
Turning my head slowly, I meet Sud’s worried gaze where he’s kneeling beside me. His eyes are red.
“I’m sorry,” he says, gripping my hand. “I’m sorry I was being so stupid. I promise I won’t do it again.”
With Sud helping me, I sit up and, when I’m situated, he replaces the icepack. Twisting my fingers in my lap, I say, “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“I deserved it. You were right; I was acting like a little kid. I’m sorry, Noi. I’ve let exams get to me, and I took it out on you.”
Is that all it was? Stress over exams?
“And I’m sorry for calling you naïve. You’re an adult, like you said.”
Easing my legs off the couch, I push myself to my feet, Sud taking my arm to steady me.
“Are you sure you want to get up? You hit your head. You were unconscious for a few seconds. I think you should go to the hospital.”