25 Holiday Hiccups 1

The morning sun had barely warmed the school grounds when Kamon and Supaporn set off on their all-important mission: obtaining permission to leave early. The halls of Bangkok Horizons Academy were still buzzing with activity—students milling about, teachers rushing between rooms, and the occasional first-year scurrying past to avoid being called out by seniors. 

Kamon adjusted her tie as they walked, a firm believer that looking presentable improved her chances of getting what she wanted. Supaporn, on the other hand, was far more relaxed, hands in her pockets and mind already occupied with possible counterarguments in case their request was denied. 

"Alright," Supaporn said as they reached the long corridor leading to the staff room. "You knock. I talk." 

"Why do I have to knock?" Kamon groaned. 

"Because you're the one with good reflexes. In case a teacher's in a bad mood, you can dodge their glare first." 

"Wow. Thanks for the faith," Kamon deadpanned. 

As they neared the door, just as Kamon reached out to knock, another hand appeared out of nowhere. She pulled back, startled, and turned to see Thanwa, a boy from their year, also reaching for the doorknob. 

Both froze. 

The air between them grew tense as they exchanged wide-eyed glances, their hands hovering over the knob. Then, without speaking, they both gestured at the other—Thanwa nodding toward the door with a 'go ahead' motion, Kamon shaking her head and pointing back at him. 

Supaporn sighed heavily. "Oh for—just open it, one of you!" 

Neither moved. 

They continued their bizarre game of silent negotiation, exaggerated hand signals escalating in dramatic urgency. Thanwa gave a grandiose bow, gesturing with an elegant sweep of his arm like a royal butler. Kamon retaliated by clasping her hands together in mock gratitude and then gesturing at the door like a game show assistant presenting a prize. 

Supaporn watched this nonsense unfold with thinning patience. 

And then, without warning, she stepped forward, yanked the knob, and pushed the door open. 

Both Kamon and Thanwa blinked at her in betrayal as she strolled inside without ceremony. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. 

The two looked at each other, then at the now-open door. 

They stepped forward at the exact same time. 

And stopped. 

More gesturing. More nodding and dramatic tilts of the head. 

Supaporn didn't bother waiting this time. She grabbed Kamon by the arm, dragged her inside, and let the door swing closed behind them. Thanwa followed at a respectable distance, probably rethinking every life choice that had led him to this moment. 

Inside, the air-conditioning hummed softly, and the staff room was abuzz with hushed conversations and the occasional clatter of coffee mugs. Mr. Niran, their homeroom teacher, sat at his desk, flipping through a folder while adjusting his glasses. Across the room, Mr. Thompson, the notoriously strict literature teacher, was deep in conversation with another staff member. 

Thanwa peeled away, heading toward Mr. Thompson's desk, while Kamon and Supaporn approached Mr. Niran. 

As they reached him, another figure appeared—Kanya, one of their classmates, looking somewhat desperate. 

"Kamon!" she whispered urgently, grabbing her sleeve. "Help me out, will you? We're in the same boat." 

Kamon gave her a blank stare, then smirked. "Who'd be in the same boat with you? It'd capsize." 

Supaporn snorted. Mr. Niran glanced up at the noise, raising a questioning brow. 

Kanya gave an exaggerated gasp, clutching her chest as if Kamon had just stabbed her. "Excuse me?! I am perfectly seaworthy!" 

"You'd make a better anchor," Kamon shot back. 

Before Kanya could retaliate, Supaporn cleared her throat. "Uh, sir?" she said, addressing Mr. Niran with the best respectful tone she could muster. 

He looked at them over his glasses. "Yes?" 

Kamon put on her most charming smile. "We were wondering if we could get permission to leave early today." 

Mr. Niran exhaled slowly, setting his pen down. "And why would that be?" 

Before either girl could answer, Kanya butted in. "Because of important personal matters, sir. Life-changing ones." 

Mr. Niran gave her a long, unimpressed stare. "Such as?" 

Kanya hesitated. She glanced at Kamon. Kamon, in return, gave her a look that very clearly said, "This is your mess, not mine." 

Supaporn, the only one with an ounce of sense in this moment, decided to intervene. "Sir, we need to handle some paperwork for an extracurricular event," she lied smoothly. 

Mr. Niran tapped his fingers on the desk, considering. "Does it require all three of you?" 

"Yes," Kanya said at the same time Kamon and Supaporn said, "No." 

Silence. 

Mr. Niran slowly adjusted his glasses. "That was unconvincing." 

Thanwa, who had finished his conversation with Mr. Thompson, walked past just in time to hear this. He gave Kamon and Kanya a knowing smirk. "You two are terrible at this." 

Kanya shot him a glare. "You, shut up." 

Thanwa grinned. "Gladly. I already got permission." He waved a signed slip in the air before walking off. 

"Unbelievable," Kamon muttered under her breath. 

"Now," Mr. Niran said, folding his arms. "If you can give me one good reason—just one—I might consider it." 

There was a beat of silence as the three girls exchanged glances. 

Then Kanya, with all the confidence of someone who had not planned a single word in advance, announced: 

"We have to attend a very urgent—uh—family event." 

Mr. Niran raised an eyebrow. "A school event, a family event—what's next? A national emergency?" 

"It's a private matter," Kanya added, voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. 

Kamon smacked her forehead. 

Supaporn sighed again. 

"Sir," Kamon said, stepping forward before Kanya could make things worse. "It's honestly nothing serious. We just need to take care of something before the end of the day. We promise it won't affect our schoolwork." 

Mr. Niran studied them for a moment, then finally sighed. "Fine. But if I find out you were up to anything ridiculous, you'll regret it." 

Kanya beamed. "Thank you, sir! You're the best!" 

"Get out before I change my mind," he grumbled, already turning back to his paperwork. 

The three wasted no time leaving, but just as they reached the door— 

Kamon and Kanya stopped. 

Looked at each other. 

Looked at the door. 

And once again, both gestured for the other to go first. 

"Oh for—" Supaporn groaned, then shoved both of them through the door. 

As the three walked away, Kamon turned to Kanya. "I hope whatever you dragged me into is worth it." 

Kanya grinned. "Oh, it totally is. I need you to pretend to be my study partner so I can get out of a tutoring session with my cousin." 

Kamon stopped walking. "I take it back. We are capsizing." 

Supaporn burst out laughing. 

And somewhere down the hall, Thanwa strolled past again, waving his permission slip smugly. 

---------------------------------------------------------------

The long weekend had finally arrived. No school, no homework, and no waking up before the sun. Kamon had imagined a peaceful break—lounging on the couch, watching movies, and maybe even sneaking in a little extra sleep. Instead, her younger brother, Tee, was bouncing around the house like a hyperactive puppy. 

"Kamon! Kamon! Look!" Tee burst into her room without knocking, his arms flailing like a bird attempting flight. "I taught Bog a new trick!" 

Kamon groaned and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow. "Tee, it's eight in the morning. Who in their right mind teaches a dog tricks at this hour?" 

"Me!" Tee grinned. "And Bog!" 

From the hallway, a loud crash echoed through the house, followed by the unmistakable sound of paws skidding across the tile. 

"Tee..." Kamon lifted her head slowly. "What did you do?" 

Before he could answer, Bog—Mr. Noi's massive golden retriever from next door—came barreling into the room, his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging so hard it knocked over Kamon's school bag. 

"I was teaching him to jump through a hula hoop, but then he got excited and kind of... well... ran through everything." 

Bog leaped onto Kamon's bed, sending her tumbling onto the floor with a yelp. She shot her brother a glare. 

"You know what, Tee? I don't even blame the dog. I blame 'you'." 

"But he's learning!" Tee insisted as Bog attempted to sit but ended up knocking over Kamon's bedside lamp. 

"You call this learning?" Kamon gestured around her now-messy room. "If you're going to train him, do it outside! Or better yet, don't do it at all!" 

Tee grabbed Bog's collar and pulled him back. "Fine, fine. Come on, Bog, let's try again in the backyard." 

As Tee dragged the dog away, Kamon collapsed onto her bed, already exhausted. The weekend had barely started, and chaos was already in full swing. 

Later that day, Kamon sat at the kitchen table, fuming. 

She had planned to go to the convenience store alone—nothing big, just a casual trip. But the neighborhood bullies, Pong and his little gang, had made an appearance again. They didn't do anything serious, just stared and smirked in that annoying way that made her skin crawl. 

She hated feeling small. 

Tee, still covered in dirt from his failed dog training session, wandered into the kitchen, munching on an apple. "Why do you look like someone stole your lunch money?" 

Kamon huffed. "It's those guys from the block. Every time I go somewhere alone, they act like I'm invisible. It's annoying!" 

Tee tilted his head. "So… what are you gonna do?" 

Kamon leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with determination. "I need to look scary. You know, like a cool, untouchable older sister." 

Tee squinted. "Kamon… you're five feet tall." 

"Excuse me?" She grabbed a dish towel and threw it at him, but he ducked. 

"I mean, I get it! You need to look tough, right?" 

"Exactly." Kamon folded her arms. "And you, dear little brother, are going to help me." 

Tee chewed thoughtfully. "So you want me to stop you whenever you look like you're about to fight, so it makes you look even cooler?" 

"Yes. Like I have an uncontrollable, dangerous side. And you'll be the only one who can hold me back. People will think I'm terrifying." 

Tee nodded, taking this mission seriously. "Got it. I can do that." 

That afternoon, Kamon and Tee walked back toward the convenience store. She had practiced her glare in the mirror before leaving—chin up, slightly narrowed eyes, a slow stride. 

"Okay, remember the plan," she whispered. "If I look like I'm about to throw hands, you stop me." 

Tee saluted. "Aye aye, Captain Kamon." 

As they neared the shop, sure enough, Pong and his friends were loitering near the entrance, leaning against their bikes. 

Kamon took a deep breath. This was her moment. She strutted forward, pretending not to notice them. 

One of the boys snickered. "Oh look, it's Kamon and her little shadow." 

That was it. Kamon halted mid-step, squared her shoulders, and turned to face them. She clenched her fists, making sure it looked just convincing enough. 

Tee gasped dramatically. "No, Kamon! Not again! You promised you wouldn't fight anymore!" 

Kamon smirked inwardly. Perfect. 

Pong raised an eyebrow. "What…?" 

"You don't understand!" Tee wailed, grabbing her arm. "She's too strong! If she fights, she won't stop! Last time, she broke a guy's—" 

Before he could finish, Bog suddenly came out of nowhere, barking excitedly. He lunged at Tee, knocking him down. 

Tee flailed. "AHH—" 

Kamon stumbled backward, completely losing her "tough" stance as the dog enthusiastically licked Tee's face. 

The bullies burst into laughter. 

Pong grinned. "Yeah, real scary." 

Kamon groaned. 

That evening, the family gathered for dinner. Kamon's mother had cooked a special meal—spicy green curry, grilled fish, and sticky rice. The warm aroma filled the house, but Kamon barely tasted it. 

Her mind wandered back to her old village, where she had lived before they moved to Bangkok. There, dinner was eaten outside, with crickets chirping and the scent of fresh earth in the air. The food was cooked over a charcoal stove, and everyone ate together, laughing and telling stories. 

Here, everything was… different. The city was loud, the air thick with exhaust fumes. Noisy neighbors, traffic jams, flashing billboards—nothing like home. 

She stared at her plate, pushing the rice around with her spoon. 

"Not hungry?" her father asked gently. 

Kamon forced a small smile. "Just thinking." 

Her mother studied her carefully. "You miss home, don't you?" 

Kamon hesitated before nodding. 

Tee, already stuffing his face, looked up. "Home? But this is home." 

"For you, maybe," Kamon muttered. "But I remember the village. I remember the river, the night markets, the—" She sighed. "I don't know. Everything just felt... warmer there." 

The table fell quiet. 

Then, her father spoke. "Maybe it's time we made Bangkok feel more like home." 

Kamon blinked. "Huh?" 

Her mother smiled. "Why don't we do something together tomorrow? A little adventure around the city. Let's explore." 

Tee gasped. "Can we go to the floating market? Or the old temples? Or—oh! What about a tuk-tuk ride?" 

Kamon hesitated, but the idea of spending time as a family, experiencing Bangkok in a different way, made her heart feel a little lighter. 

She smiled. "Okay. Let's do it." 

The next day, Kamon, Tee, and their parents explored Bangkok as if they were tourists. They visited the floating market, where Tee got scammed into buying a ridiculously overpriced coconut drink. They rode a tuk-tuk, zooming through narrow streets with Tee screaming in delight. They even stopped at an old temple, where Kamon lit incense and silently wished for courage—not to look scary, but to feel at home. 

By the end of the day, she realized something. 

Home wasn't just a place. It was the people. 

And as Tee fell asleep on her shoulder on the tuk-tuk ride back, Kamon smiled. Maybe Bangkok wasn't so bad after all.