The Weekend Wish
578 Words
3.
Chiang Mai, Thailand
The late morning sun glimmered gently through the open window of Seunraâs small bedroom. She sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a well-thumbed textbook, half-reading a page about literature, half-staring at a doodle she'd drawn in the margins â a flame tree.
She wasnât in school anymore, at least not like before. After failing her final year of high school a second time, Seunra had enrolled as a private candidate â a non-regular student. It meant no uniforms, no crowded halls, and no teachers calling out her name in disappointment. Just her, her books, and the deadlines she tried not to dread.
But today wasnât about studying.
It was Saturday.
The same day as last time.
The same day she met her.
Rayansihuan Wachirakorn.
Seunraâs heart fluttered without permission as she packed her sketchbook and watercolors into her bag. She told herself she just wanted to paint the flame tree again⊠but part of her, the part that hadnât stopped replaying that gentle voice, wanted something else.
Maybe sheâll be there.
Maybe she meant it when she said âsame.â
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đž At the Park â Under the Flame Tree
The park was quiet again, just like before. A soft wind blew through the tall grass, rustling the leaves as red petals scattered gently across the old stone path.
Seunra walked slowly, scanning every corner.
Empty.
No sign of Rayansihuan.
She let out a soft breath and lowered herself onto the same bench. She pulled out her sketchbook, but her hands hesitated.
She remembered the way Rayansihuan had looked at her art â not with judgment, not with pity, but with recognition. Like she understood. Like she saw her.
And when Rayansihuan had asked, "Will you come again?" âŠSeunra hadn't known what to say. She had only nodded slightly, confused, surprised, and a little breathless.
Now, sitting there alone, she realized how much she had hoped that question meant more.
---
đž A Memory from School
She thought back to the girls at her old public school â the way some of them had whispered behind her back, rolling their eyes whenever she walked past. They thought she was trying to get attention, but the truth was⊠sheâd never asked for any.
She couldnât help the way boys would stop talking when she walked into a room. With her soft, pale skin, almond-shaped eyes, and lips like they were sketched from a painting, she had always stood out â even when she didnât want to.
Beauty, to Seunra, had always been more of a burden than a blessing.
It didnât make people love her.
It didnât make her family care.
But Rayansihuan hadnât complimented her face.
She had complimented her painting. Her feelings.
And that felt like the first real compliment of her life.
---
đ That Night â In Bed Again
Later that evening, Seunra lay curled on her side, watching the shadows on the ceiling as the night deepened.
She hadnât seen Rayansihuan.
Not today.
Maybe she had only been in Chiang Mai for that one weekend. Maybe she had already gone back to wherever she came from. Maybe she hadnât meant anything at all by âsame.â
But stillâŠ
With her hands pressed together under her pillow, Seunra closed her eyes and whispered quietly into the darkness of her room.
Seunra (in her mind):
Please⊠let me see her again
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đ. To be continued in chapter 4.....
- Writer
