READ BOOK ONE! You will be lost.
Arthit, Knott, Prem, Tutah, and Bright are in their Third year and known as the crazy engineering gang to their classmates. They are also the Red Jacket Hazers. Kongpop, Tew, Wad, Oak, and Aim are First Years who are...
Tugging at my tie, I flop down on my bed. How do you feel sad about someone passing when you don't even know them. Mom called me two days ago and ordered me to come home. First, she sends Namtam to my room, and now I am home for a relative so distant I didn't even know they existed.
"Son," Mom says from the door, "Take your suit off and hang it up. It will get wrinkled." She comes into my room, holding out a hand. Sitting up, I shrug off the jacket and hand it to her.
"How was I related to this person again?" I ask my mom.
"She is the third cousin of my mom's second cousin through marriage on her father's side," She explains, hanging my jacket in the closet. I wonder how mad she would get if I asked her to draw a diagram. A third cousin of a second cousin by marriage? What does that make her to me? Third and second? Does that make her my fifth cousin? And if it because of marriage, are we even related? I didn't recognize anyone at the funeral besides my parents and grandparents.
"I am going to do laundry," Mom tells me, turning to me, "Do you have any clothes that need to be washed." I about to shake my head no when I remember that the clothes I used while I was staying over at Kong's during the Namtam invasion are still in my backpack.
"There are some clothes in my backpack," I tell her taking off my tie, "They are from when I stayed over at a friend's when you sent Namtam to my dorm." I look over, frowning at my mom, "What were you and her mom thinking?"
"She needed a place to stay," Mom says, picking up my backpack, "Besides, she is like a sister to you, right?" Maybe I should draw a diagram for my mom to explain that Namtam is not my sister.
"Arthit?" Mom questions and I look over at her and gasp.
What the fvck!?! Why the hell is that still in there? Damn it! I walk over and quietly take the box out of her hand and, for good measure, the backpack. My mind races going back to the bed to find an explanation that won't get me killed or lectured. Setting my bag down, I realize I am screwed. Because there is no way to explain my way out of this, I hang my head and wait for my mom's tirade.
When none comes, I glance back at my mom and find her frowning at me. I open my mouth to explain but close it. Don't they say silence is golden?
"Did I get all of the clothes?" My mom looks at the ones in her hand, "Were there any more?"
I open the bag and find that she indeed has gotten them all and realize I should be thankful she pulled out the box of condoms and not the lube that is mocking me from the bottom of my backpack.
"Yeah," I say without turning around. I know I am beet red right now. "That is all. The clothes I traveled home in are in the hamper in the bathroom. Do you want me to get them?" I am hoping this will allow me to escape.
"I will get them," My mom tells me, walking out the door, "Why don't you lie down and rest."
"Ok," I reply. The second I hear my door close, my shoulders droop. Opening back up the bag, I glare at the incriminating items. "Why the hell are you still there?"
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