Chapter 13
Another weekend approached, but after that, Monday was the D-day—the Freshers’ event of the biggest university in the nation. Everyone was exhausted from the countless hours of preparation, especially the President’s Club and the various activity clubs, all gearing up to deliver their best performances. However, before the grand event, an announcement was made: every student was to take a break, rest, and recharge. This weekend was a pause, a chance to start fresh with renewed enthusiasm, ensuring the event would be brimming with high, positive energy.
On Saturday morning, Becky’s phone rang before her alarm went off. With sleepy eyes, she checked the caller ID and answered, “Good morning, Mumma.”
Standing on the balcony, Freen took a slow drag from her cigarette, her ears perking up at the conversation.
“Good morning, baby! How’s your practice going? Big day on Monday, huh?” her mother asked excitedly.
“Yes! We’ve been practicing so much that we’re all exhausted,” Becky replied, stretching as she glanced toward the balcony. She spotted Freen, standing there, puffing smoke into the crisp morning air. Becky frowned in disapproval.
“Becbec, sweetheart, your dad and I will try our best to be at the Freshers’ event, but we won’t be home this weekend,” her mother said apologetically.
“It’s okay, Mumma. Parents don’t usually come to Freshers. I’m not in elementary school anymore—I’m in college, for God’s sake. I’ll just stay in my room and practice. It’s really fine,” Becky reassured her.
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. But if you want, you can go with Irin to her place. We’re okay with you spending the weekend however you like. Just relax and don’t push yourself too much,” her mother insisted.
Freen, listening from a distance, already knew Becky was going to stay in the dorms. And for some reason, that unsettled her. The dorms were usually quiet on weekends—everyone left to have fun elsewhere.
After Becky’s call ended, she made her way to the balcony. The moment she stepped in, Freen, as if on cue, flicked away her cigarette, shaking her head at becky stubborn nature for always doing what she want cause Freen lost the counts of how many time she told becky not to step in when she smokes.
“Good morning, P’Fieeen!” Becky greeted with a wide grin.
“Go back to sleep. It’s still early,” Freen replied, staring at the sky.
“Rude,” Becky muttered, pouting as she turned on her heel, stomping away in mock offense.
“So, what are you doing this weekend? Going home?” Freen asked, her tone casual but distant.
Becky’s face lit up. She had expected this. “I knew it!” she screamed internally before quickly walking back to stand beside Freen.
“No, Mom and Dad are out of town, but they’ve given me permission to go anywhere I want. I think I’ll just stay here and practice,” Becky said, her voice laced with an unspoken hope.
“But it’s a rest period. No one’s allowed to practice or work, remember?” Freen finally turned to look at Becky, their eyes locking.
“Ah, but who’s going to know I’m actually practicing?” Becky challenged with a sly smile.
“You’re literally confessing in front of the campus president,” Freen said, amused.
Becky chuckled. “I don’t know what else to do. I guess I’ll just sleep, then. Irin and the others are going home, and I don’t want to intrude on their family time. So yeah, I’ll stay here.”
Freen didn’t respond. Instead, she gazed at the horizon, lost in thought. The early morning sun was beginning to rise, the fresh air whispering in hushed melodies, birds chirping in a language no one quite understood. Becky found herself watching Freen, her eyes tracing from her gaze to her lips, down to the bare skin of her neck. But her moment of quiet admiration was cut short when Freen cleared her throat, snapping Becky out of her trance.
Want to come with me?" Freen's voice was smooth, almost a whisper, careful not to disturb the universe still wrapped in slumber. "We can go to the beach, stay the night, and be back by tomorrow. I need a break too… I'm too tired for anything."
Becky froze. Did she hear that right? Her heart skipped, then raced. Unable to trust her own ears, she pinched her cheek and gave herself a light slap—just to be sure.
Freen, watching the odd display, furrowed her brows and caught Becky's hand midair. "Hey, what are you doing? Losing it this early in the morning?"
"P'Freen, this has to be a dream!" Becky’s voice was thick with excitement. "I’m trying to wake myself up!"
Freen rolled her eyes, pulling away. "Forget it," she muttered, turning to leave.
But before she could take another step, Becky grabbed her wrist, her grip firm yet filled with giddy desperation. "No, no, no! Wait! Let’s go! P’Freen, I’m packing!" she squealed before dashing toward the room, her footsteps quick and frantic with excitement.
Freen stood there, watching the whirlwind that was Becky disappear inside. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she shook her head slightly. What just happened?
With a quiet chuckle, she turned and made her way inside, ready to start the day.
At the dorm’s front gate, Freen stood beside her bright yellow car, waiting. Becky trailed a few steps behind her, hurrying to catch up. Far away, Nam stood on her balcony, soaking in the morning light when she caught sight of Freen opening the car door for Becky.
“Thank you, P’Freen,” Becky said shyly, blushing at the simple yet classic gesture.
Nam’s eyes widened. “OMG. WHAT WORLD DID I WAKE UP TO? YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME, GOD!” she screeched dramatically.
Kade came running from behind. “What happened to you this early in the morning?” she asked, concerned.
Nam, one hand over her shocked mouth and the other pointing at the scene before her, watched as Freen got into the driver’s seat. Kade followed her gaze and gasped.
“Oh my….” Kade was in shock.
“NO ONE HAS EVER EVEN GOTTEN A CHANCE TO TOUCH HER CAR. FREEN WOULD NEVER, IN A MILLION LIFETIMES, LET ANYONE INVADE HER PERSONAL SPACE—AND NOW THIS?!” Nam screeched, waving her hands dramatically.
Meanwhile, Kade, shaking his head at her over-the-top reaction, quickly dialed Krik’s number—this was too big of a moment not to share.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Krik's shocked voice boomed through the speaker as soon as he heard the news.
"Krik, please get over here. I can’t handle this overly dramatic mess alone—she won’t shut up!" Kade pleaded, shooting a glance at Nam, who was flailing her arms like a theater performer mid-meltdown.
"HOW?! HOW?!" Nam kept repeating, pointing furiously in the direction Freen’s car had disappeared.
Krik chuckled, already knowing exactly why Nam was losing it. “Alright, let’s meet up. Let’s chill,” he said before hanging up, still amused.
Nam’s reaction wasn’t unwarranted—out of everyone, she was the closest to Freen, followed by Krik, then Kade. And Freen? She had always kept her personal space locked up tighter than a vault. No one—not even Nam—had ever been allowed near her car.
Yet, there Becky was. Sitting in the passenger seat.
This was history in the making.
The moment Freen got into the car, she had one thing on her mind—to set things straight with Becky. To make it crystal clear that she saw her as nothing more than a little sister. That whatever she did, however much time she spent around Becky, it was all just for that sake.
It was the only way she could keep herself sane.
Because deep down, she knew—there was something inside her, something dangerous, something she didn’t want to name. A part of her that kept pulling toward Becky, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. And then there was fate, her usual tormentor, always lurking around the corner, waiting to mess things up.
As the car rolled down the road, Becky played her playlist, and to Freen’s surprise, the songs were actually good. A rare win. Freen leaned back, letting herself enjoy the moment, and before she knew it, she was watching Becky again.
The way she hummed along with the music, completely lost in the moment.
The way the wind played with her hair as she leaned out the window, eyes shining like the world belonged to her.
It was so damn hard not to smile.
Or worse—not to reach out.
All Freen really wanted to do was squeeze Becky’s not-so-chubby cheeks, smash her whole face into her hands and just—ugh, stop. Nope. Not happening. Those thoughts were dangerous.
So instead, she gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and reminded herself—she’s like a sister. Like a sister. Like a sister.
It was past four in the afternoon when they finally reached Pattaya Beach. Becky’s eyes widened when she saw their hotel room—a single room with two beds.
A single room.
For a second, she just stood there, taking it in. And then, realization hit. Freen is slowly allowing her into her personal space. Just a little. But it was enough to make Becky’s heart bloom.
She was happy. Like, ridiculously happy. As if she had waited for a moment like this her whole life.
“Wow! This room is huge! And look at the view—the beach is endless!” Becky spun around, her excitement filling every inch of the room. She dropped her bags and started inspecting everything, like a little kid seeing the world for the first time.
Freen, watching her with barely concealed amusement, decided to have a little fun.
“This is your room,” she said casually. “Mine’s across the hall.”
Becky froze mid-spin.
“What? No way. This room has two beds.”
“Yeah, they only had this kind of room left, so…” Freen shrugged, keeping her face as blank as possible.
She saw it happen—the moment Becky’s mood dropped.
The way she fell silent, her face suddenly serious, like the life had been sucked out of her. It was adorable.
Freen lasted about five seconds before finally breaking.
“KIDDING.” She pointed to one of the beds. “This one’s mine.”
Becky blinked. Her brain rebooted.
And then—bam! A fluffy pillow came flying at Freen’s face.
“You’re the worst!” Becky huffed, crossing her arms, but her cheeks were glowing with relief.
Freen laughed, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “Alright, alright, enough now. Go get ready. We’re heading out.”
If Freen had just stopped for a moment—just one second—and looked at her reflection in the mirror, she would have seen it.
The way her lips curled so effortlessly into a real smile.
The way her skin glowed, flushed with warmth, her cheeks carrying a hint of red that hadn’t been there in years.
She looked... alive.
Happiness. Genuine, unfiltered happiness. It was radiating off her, wrapping around her like a long-lost embrace. And if she had just let herself acknowledge it, she would have realized—it had been so long.
Six years.
Six whole years since she had felt like this, since her heart had been this light, since laughter had come to her without effort. The last time had been with her mom—back when life had been softer, before everything had turned into a battlefield.
But she pushed the thought away before it could settle.
Because if she didn’t, she would have to face the truth—that Becky was the reason. That Becky had unknowingly found the cracks in her walls, slipping through them like light, warming up the cold places she had long accepted as frozen.
And that? That was dangerous.
So instead, Freen did what she did best—ignored it. She buried it under the same agenda she had been repeating to herself all this time.
She’s just like a sister. Just a sister. Just a sister.
Even if every part of her heart was screaming otherwise.
The salty breeze kissed Freen’s skin as she lounged on the beach chair, pretending to read the book in her hands. But her focus wasn’t on the words—it was on her.
Becky.
Her oversized black shades did a good job of hiding the truth, shielding the way her gaze kept drifting—again and again—to the girl a few feet away.
Becky, ever the social butterfly, had somehow gathered a group of giggling kids around her. They were building lopsided sandcastles, sculpting odd little creatures out of wet sand, running to the waves only to squeal and dash back before they got soaked. And Becky? She was right there with them—laughing, splashing, playing—all while flashing those easy, friendly smiles at the kids’ parents like she had known them forever.
Freen clenched her jaw.
She wasn’t irritated. Nope. Not at all.
Except maybe she was.
Because Becky—Becky in that swimsuit—was ridiculously distracting. It wasn’t even revealing, not really. It covered everything except her back and the soft stretch of skin from her mid-thigh down. But it was enough. Enough to make Freen’s fingers twitch against the book cover, enough to make her heart beat in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge.
And yet, Becky hadn’t looked at her even once.
Not a single glance. Not even a second of soul-recharging eye contact.
It had been too long. Too damn long.
Freen was starting to feel it—the unsettling weight of being unnoticed, the slight sting of being ignored. All because she had refused Becky’s invitation to join her in the waves earlier, brushing it off with a cold excuse.
And now?
Now she was paying the price.
"I can’t seriously be getting jealous over a bunch of little kids."
Scoffing at herself, Freen stood up, brushing the sand off her legs before striding toward Becky. The sun had started its slow descent, casting a golden-orange hue across the sky, and the breeze carried the scent of salt and grilled seafood from the nearby beachside stalls. Shadows stretched long on the shore, the waves rolling in with a rhythmic hush as if whispering secrets to the sand.
"Okay, enough for today. Let’s get something to eat. I’m hungry," Freen announced, her tone deliberately indifferent as she avoided Becky’s gaze, clearly attempting to sulk.
Becky, knee-deep in water and completely absorbed in her little squad of newfound kid friends, barely spared her a glance. "Oh, five more minutes! I’ll be right back," she called out, giggling as she flicked water at one of the kids who shrieked in delight.
Freen exhaled sharply, folding her arms. "I’ll be at that restaurant near the coconut tree. I’m ordering. Don’t make me wait too long." With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, not giving Becky the satisfaction of seeing the small frown tugging at her lips.
At the restaurant, Freen sat at a wooden table overlooking the ocean, the dim lights from lanterns swaying gently in the evening breeze. She absentmindedly scrolled through her phone, but it wasn’t like she needed a menu—she already knew exactly what to order.
Non-spicy dishes for Becky. Extra-spicy for herself.
Freen knew everything about Becky. She had access to Becky’s college and club forms—the ones where every little detail had been filled out in Becky's own handwriting. She had a screenshot of that form buried somewhere in her phone, and though she would never admit it, she had read through it way too many times—like some sacred scripture she couldn’t let go of.
Meanwhile, Becky was finally wrapping up her playtime. She waved goodbye to the kids, but just as she was about to leave, one of them—a tiny boy with messy curls—ran up to her, clutching a small flower in his fist.
"This is for you, my queen! And there’s two—one from me and one from my dad!"
Becky blinked, startled, before following the boy’s tiny pointing finger to a tall, well-built man approaching her. He was handsome, sun-kissed, and had the kind of confident smile that probably worked on a lot of women.
"Hi, I’m Shane—Jam’s dad," the man said, rubbing the back of his neck. "He kinda grew really fond of you. By any chance, could I grab you a drink or something? Just a small thank-you." He gave her a charming, almost bashful smile.
Before Becky could process the situation, a warm towel wrapped around her shoulders from behind.
Strong arms. A fleeting hug. A voice laced with quiet steel.
"Sorry, she’s busy."
Freen’s words were cold, sharp, final.
Shane stiffened. His confident smirk flickered—almost like he could feel the sheer death glare Freen was drilling into him through those black shades. For a second, Becky swore he gulped—like if he didn’t back away now, he might actually piss his pants.
"Uh—yeah, sure, no worries." Shane nodded hastily, grabbing his son’s hand and walking away without a second glance.
Becky was still standing there, wide-eyed, trying to process what the hell just happened, when Freen—without hesitation—snatched the flowers from her hands and tossed them to the kids still playing nearby.
"Here. Use these as flags for your sandcastles," she said flatly.
The kids beamed. "Thank you, Phi!" They giggled, running off with their new treasures.
Becky, meanwhile, had barely even reacted before Freen’s fingers interlaced tightly with hers. A firm, unyielding grip. Smooth. Confident. Possessive.
And just like that, Freen pulled her away, leading her toward the changing rooms with a quiet authority that left Becky’s heart racing.
By the time they were seated at the restaurant table, Becky was still floating on cloud nine, her mind replaying the entire scene like a movie on loop. The way Freen had stepped in. The way she had grabbed her hand. The way she had glared at that guy like he was an insect she could crush under her heel.
If things ever went the way she imagined every single night before falling asleep, their couple hashtag would be #FreenBecky, she thought, her face heating up.
She was so lost in her daydream that she didn’t even notice Freen watching her with narrowed eyes.
"Earth to Becky," Freen deadpanned, snapping her fingers in front of Becky’s face. "Your food is getting cold. What are you even thinking about?"
Becky startled, blinking rapidly. "Nothing!" she said quickly, her voice an octave too high.
Freen frowned, unconvinced.
But Becky just grinned mischievously, shaking her head and happily digging into her food—because no way in hell was she going to admit just how deeply Freen had just wrecked her.