26 Holiday Hiccups 2

The sun hung lazily in the sky, its warm golden rays spilling over the vast school field where the weekend's excitement was about to unfold. The air buzzed with anticipation as Kamon and a handful of her classmates strolled towards the school gates, chattering animatedly. 

"I can't believe we actually came to school on a weekend," muttered Beam, Kamon's best friend, adjusting her baseball cap. "If Thanwa and Chanon lose, they owe me snacks for waking up early." 

"You only came for the snacks," Kamon teased, biting into a bag of crispy seaweed. She had stocked up for the event, knowing full well that excitement demanded fuel. 

Ahead of them, their energetic classmate Fern bounced on her feet, waving a homemade banner with 'GO THANWA! GO CHANON!' written in big, enthusiastic letters—albeit a little lopsided. Next to her, Mook, the self-appointed team analyst, adjusted her glasses and mumbled, "I've been studying the opponent's past game statistics. We might have a chance… if Thanwa doesn't trip over his own feet like last time." 

The group of supporters spilled onto the school's modest but well-maintained soccer field, where both teams were warming up. Thanwa, looking effortlessly cool in his jersey, stretched with determination, while Chanon was busy tying his shoelaces for the third time, visibly nervous. 

Kamon's stomach growled audibly. 

"You just ate," Beam pointed out. 

"Cheering is hard work," Kamon defended, pulling out a bag of spicy squid chips. 

Just then, a familiar voice called out from the field. 

"Oi! You guys actually came?" Thanwa grinned, jogging over with a soccer ball tucked under his arm. 

Chanon followed, adjusting his headband. "We're honored. Hope we put on a good show." 

"No pressure," Kamon said, mouth half-full. "But if you don't score at least once, you're buying us all ice cream." 

Thanwa smirked. "Sounds like a deal." 

Chanon, however, paled. "Wait, what? Ice cream for everyone?" 

Before he could protest further, the referee blew the whistle, signaling both teams to their positions. The crowd—consisting of Kamon's group, some teachers, and a few stray students from both schools—erupted in cheers. 

"THANWA! CHANON! DON'T EMBARRASS US!" Fern yelled dramatically, nearly smacking Mook with her banner. 

Mook ducked just in time, shaking her head. "I give it ten minutes before someone falls." 

The match began at a fast pace. The opposing team was skilled, weaving the ball between their players with impressive coordination. Thanwa, however, intercepted with a swift move, sending the ball flying towards Chanon. 

"LOOK ALIVE, CHANON!" Beam screamed. 

Chanon looked—but didn't move fast enough. The ball smacked into his knee, bouncing off awkwardly. 

Gasps filled the air. 

Then… a miracle. 

The ball, by some bizarre stroke of luck, 

ricocheted off Chanon's leg and soared towards the goal. The opposing team's goalkeeper lunged—but too late. 

The ball hit the back of the net. 

Silence. 

Then, pandemonium. 

"HE SCORED?!" Kamon shrieked, nearly choking on her chips. 

"HE SCORED," Beam repeated, her voice a mix of disbelief and joy. 

Chanon stood frozen, blinking in astonishment. "I… I meant to do that." 

Thanwa slapped him on the back. "Of course you did." 

The crowd burst into celebratory cheers, while Kamon grabbed another snack to mark the occasion. 

"Alright, now if you can do that again, we might actually win," Mook said dryly. 

The game continued with high energy. Thanwa executed a brilliant pass, weaving through defenders with ease, while Chanon—perhaps fueled by his accidental success—started moving with newfound confidence. 

Kamon, meanwhile, had switched to eating popcorn. 

"Where did that come from?" Fern asked. 

"I have my ways." 

The second half was intense. The score was tied 2-2, and the final minutes were approaching. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife—if Kamon hadn't already eaten the sandwich that came with it. 

With seconds left, Thanwa received a final pass. He dodged one defender, then another. The goal was in sight. 

"KICK IT, THANWA!" 

With a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air. The goalkeeper jumped. The crowd held their breath. 

And then— 

GOAL! 

The school erupted in cheers as Thanwa's teammates piled onto him in celebration. 

Kamon, caught up in the excitement, accidentally flung her bag of snacks in the air. 

"Oh no—MY CHIPS!" 

They rained down like confetti. 

The game ended 3-2 in favor of Thanwa and Chanon's team. Exhausted but triumphant, the players waved at their supporters. 

Chanon approached Kamon, still panting. "So… about that ice cream bet…" 

Kamon grinned, linking arms with Beam. "You're treating us, obviously." 

Chanon groaned. "This is why I should have missed." 

Thanwa patted his shoulder. "No, it's why you'll be remembered as a hero." 

As the sun set, the group left the field, laughing, teasing, and—most importantly—heading for ice cream. 

Because in the end, victory tastes sweeter with snacks.

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

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in Supaporn's neighborhood, the kind of day where the sun shone just a little too brightly and the air seemed to hum with a lazy, mid-afternoon energy. Supaporn was seated on the porch, her legs draped over the edge of a swing, scrolling through her phone with the vague hope that something exciting might pop up in her notifications. Her brother, Niran, however, was nowhere near as idle. He had been pacing around the yard, peeking around corners, and generally looking like a troublemaker in the making. 

"Supaporn, did you hear something?" Niran asked, his voice tinged with the excitement of someone who had just discovered something suspicious.

Supaporn glanced up from her phone, squinting toward the neighbor's yard. "I heard a chicken. Why?"

"I think it's our chance," Niran said with an exaggerated whisper. "You know the neighbors' chicken? The one that's always clucking like it owns the place?"

Supaporn rolled her eyes. "Oh please, don't tell me you're planning on doing something ridiculous. Again."

Niran, undeterred, grinned widely. "No, no. Hear me out. I just need to see if their chicken is as fast as they say. It's a scientific test. I'm conducting research, Supa."

Supaporn snorted. "Research? You've been watching too many spy movies. You're not running some covert operation."

Niran lowered his voice dramatically. "You don't get it. I've been wondering for weeks how fast that chicken really is. They always boast about it, but I need proof. So… I was thinking…" He trailed off, glancing toward the neighbor's yard again.

"Wait. No. You are not chasing that chicken," Supaporn said firmly, already standing up and shaking her head. "We're not stealing their chicken just because you're curious."

Niran, ever the charmer, flashed his sister a mischievous grin. "Stealing? Who said anything about stealing? It's just a test. A quick run around the yard to see if the chicken can outrun us. No harm done."

Before Supaporn could protest further, Niran was already slipping through the gate and into the neighbor's garden, moving with the kind of quiet precision only a professional troublemaker could muster. Supaporn hesitated, but a combination of curiosity and the hopeless inevitability that she would end up caught in whatever absurd scheme Niran had come up with drove her to follow him.

Together, they crept up to the chicken coop at the far end of the yard. The chicken, a plump, white-feathered bird with an attitude, clucked loudly as if daring them to approach. Niran crouched down and whispered, "Watch this." He threw a handful of cracked corn on the ground, the shiny kernels scattering like jewels.

At first, the chicken hesitated, eyeing the corn warily. Supaporn's heart began to race—this was clearly not going to end well. 

"Okay, ready?" Niran asked, his eyes fixed on the chicken.

"Wait! This is a terrible idea," Supaporn whispered, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was watching. "We're going to get caught, and Mom will never let us hear the end of it."

But Niran, oblivious to the potential consequences, jumped up and ran toward the chicken, causing it to squawk in alarm. The chicken flapped its wings wildly and darted off, its tiny feet kicking up dust as it scrambled to escape. Without missing a beat, Niran sprinted after it, his laughter ringing out like the sound of a madman on a mission.

"Niran!" Supaporn shouted, running after him in a desperate attempt to stop him. "You're going to get us into trouble!"

But it was too late. Niran was already dodging through the neighbor's flowerbeds, ducking under laundry lines, and laughing like a lunatic. Supaporn, not wanting to be left behind and knowing full well that trying to reason with him at this point was pointless, threw caution to the wind and joined the chase.

The chicken was fast—faster than Supaporn expected—and it zipped around obstacles with a grace that was almost graceful. Niran was keeping pace, though, his legs pumping like a well-oiled machine. Supaporn, on the other hand, was growing winded, her sneakers slipping on the loose dirt of the neighbor's yard.

"You're never going to catch it!" Supaporn panted, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Oh, I'm getting closer, just you wait!" Niran called out over his shoulder. "Just a few more seconds!"

The two siblings rounded the corner of the yard, dodging a low-hanging branch, when suddenly they heard a voice from behind them.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?"

Both Supaporn and Niran froze mid-chase. Standing at the edge of the yard was their neighbor, Mrs. Wong, a sharp-eyed woman in her mid-50s with a gaze that could freeze anyone in their tracks. Her hands were on her hips, and her face was a mixture of confusion and barely-contained outrage. 

"We weren't stealing the chicken!" Niran blurted out before she could say anything else. "We were just testing its speed. It's for a science project!" 

Mrs. Wong blinked, clearly taken aback. Supaporn, equally flustered, jumped in to clarify. "Yeah, exactly. Testing the chicken's, um… speed. We just wanted to see how fast it could run, that's all."

Mrs. Wong raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but also not entirely convinced they were being truthful. "Uh-huh. So you're telling me, you two—my neighbors' children—decided to chase my chicken for... science?"

Niran nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. Speed tests. Very important work."

"Well, if you two are done with your 'science experiment,'" Mrs. Wong said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'll be sure to tell your mother about this little 'research project' of yours."

"Wait! No!" Supaporn blurted out, her heart skipping a beat. "We weren't stealing! Just testing its speed, like we said. There's no need to tell Mom."

Mrs. Wong stood there for a moment, looking at them both as if she were trying to decide whether to laugh or scold them. Finally, she let out a sigh, shaking her head. "I'm not sure whether you two are brave or just incredibly reckless. But I'm telling your mother anyway. I'll see you both at dinner. Hopefully, by then, you'll have learned how to chase chickens the proper way."

With that, she turned and walked back to her house, leaving Supaporn and Niran standing there, their heads hanging in defeat.

Niran let out a long sigh, looking at Supaporn with a guilty grin. "Well, that went well."

"You're unbelievable," Supaporn muttered, kicking a rock in frustration. "We're in so much trouble."

"Oh, come on, Supa. It wasn't that bad," Niran said with a chuckle. "At least we got some good data on the chicken's speed."

Supaporn gave him an incredulous look. "Good data? The only thing we got was reported to Mom. We'll be lucky if she doesn't ground us for a month."

Niran shrugged. "Well, it was worth it for science."

Supaporn stared at him, shaking her head. "You're impossible." 

They both trudged back home, knowing full well that Mrs. Wong would undoubtedly tell their mother everything. And that meant an evening full of awkward explanations—and, no doubt, a lecture on the importance of respecting other people's property.

As the two siblings made their way back into their house, Niran

couldn't help but grin. "Maybe next time, we should test how fast Mom's reaction time is, huh?" 

Supaporn slapped her forehead. "You're lucky I'm not putting you in a timeout right now."