I Met Him in the Summer

2. Why Do I See You Everywhere I Go ... I Think I'm Starting To Like You?

"That's the kind of crap that messes kids up! No normal parent tells their child things like that!"

"Ah, so you're implying that you're normal, then?"

"Why does it always come back to that with you?!"

Tine rushed to get between his parents, and held his arms out to stop them, "Stop it! You're doing it again, you're fighting!"

Tears were starting to fill up his vision, and within seconds he was crying. Tine didn't protest when his mother picked him up and held him. If the circumstances were different, Tine would have been ecstatic, since Mom didn't do such thing as often as she once did. But he just buried his face into the thin fabric of Mom's shirt and cried. Nothing was making sense to him anymore, and he just wanted his family to be happy again. Why was that so hard to get?

His sobs blocked out his parents' conversation, at least they were quieter. But they seemed more somber, in a way.

Tine wasn't sure of how long he cried, or how long Mom held him to her chest, but he found himself drifting into sleep. Sounds became muffled, but he was consciously aware of another voice joining in. Likely Type. He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes as his mom began walking, and he felt himself being set onto his bed a few moments later. A hand wiped away the drying tears on his chilled face, and he could swear he heard Type whispering.

Despite all this, Tine's mind just replayed the last minutes over and over. It wouldn't be a surprise if he had a nightmare or two.

The last bits of consciousness were draining from him when he heard Mom utter a few words, though he didn't catch it all.

"— I can't keep doing this."

____________________

Until he met Sarawat, Tine never really believed in fate.

He always figured that people were in control of their own destinies, though his father always insisted that God was the one in charge of such things. Tine believed in God, it would be hard not to considering he'd been raised almost from birth by a Buddhist monk — well, a Buddhist monk who doesn't follow any of the code of conduct; he just didn't see why God would take a personal interest in someone as insignificant as him in a world inhabited by eight billion of more worthy or more deserving people.

But Tine also believed in luck, both good and bad, and he'd had his share of both kinds; the bad luck of being abandoned by his mother, the good luck of ... well, he's still here, alive, isn't he? On the whole, he considers himself to be a lucky guy because despite some of the bad situations he finds himself in, he'd come through it all unscathed. But luck and fate were two very different entities.

Luck was all about random chance; the scales could tip either way depending on hundreds of different variables, but you could never know the outcome of any action until afterwards. Fate implied that everything a person does is set in stone, which in turn implied that people had no free will and no control over what's happened going to happen to them. That didn't sit well with an independent guy like Tine; he'd take random chances and free will over fate any day of the week.

Tine goes to work the next day as usual, opens the store, when in actuality, it's not his fucking responsibility since he's only worked here a month, but the manager's a fucking lazy cocoon and he's certain she's still sleeping soundly at home.

He sees Sarawat at lunch time at the food court and Sarawat kindly waves at him, smiles with his perfect white teeth. And this time, along with his glittering heart and cheeks flushing crimson red, he waves back.

He might as well be cordial since Sarawat's the only one he knows in this mallrat of teens and tweens and he's decent and kind and kind of beautiful to look at.