WEIRDO 101

Prologue

"What are you feeling right now?"

"If you aren't going to talk, just hold up an emoji sign."

Niran lay stretched out on his back on the floor and let out a massive sigh. He reached out to the side, grabbed one of the emoji signs, and held it up to show his mood.

"Ah. Grumpy. "

"You could tell just by looking at his face, couldn't you? He's had a face like a monkey's backside all morning."

Thipok and Hemmarat exchanged comments. Both stood with their arms crossed, looking down at the most difficult-to-please friend in the world ...

Thipok muttered under his breath. Niran ignored him. He stood up and shuffled his feet toward the door.

They were in the Music Club room, where he had been holed up since the semester began. In reality, Niran wasn't even a member of the club. He simply didn't want to go to his own for personal reasons though that wasn't the real reason for his foul mood from morning till night.

The three of them walked to the cafeteria to buy ice cream and found a quiet place to sit. The refreshing, tart, and sweet flavor improved his mood slightly. Finally, he felt ready to tell his worried friends what had happened that morning.

Flashback - Seven a.m.

"Niran, come have breakfast."

"Yeah. . . "

Seeing that he was barely bringing any rice to his mouth, his father took a large spoon and served him marinated boiled chicken and sautéed vegetables. He sat across from him, staring intently, waiting for his stubborn son to eat. Finally, Niran shoved the food into his mouth almost by force, looking at him as if to ask: Are you happy now?

"Eat well. Hurry up, fill up, and then get to school. "

"I know. . . "

Niran's relationship with his father was more like that of two friends than father and son. Even so, his father retained more authority thanks to his age and maturity. Whenever a decision had to be made, he was the one who led. Whether Niran had to turn left or right ... it felt as though his entire future had already been decided.

"I'm full. "

The rice was barely half-finished. He got up from the table when his father went to answer a call, grabbed his black backpack which had almost nothing inside and ran out of the house without waiting for his father to say goodbye.

The bus stop was crowded, as always. Niran sighed heavily and stood under the shade of a tree. When the bus arrived, everyone lunged toward it. He was one of the ones who managed to get on; if he missed this ride, he'd be late for school!

He definitely couldn't afford a punishment being forced to run laps or, worse, pick up trash. Niran loved comfort much more than anyone imagined.

However, since he didn't rush to snag a seat from the start, he had to stand, gripping the handrail. And for some unknown reason, almost all the drivers on this route drove as if they were in a street race.

Where the hell were they going in such a hurry?

Screeech! The first brake. Niran remained clung to the handrail. He smiled with pride.

Screeech! The second brake. People swayed forward, but he still held on.

Screeech! The third brake-Ekkkk!

Niran's body was hurled forward and then pushed back. He lost his balance. His center of gravity collapsed. And the next second, he was sitting on someone's lap!

Both startled violently. When everything returned to normal, Niran jumped up, looked at the victim's face, and spoke:

"I'm sorry."

The person whose lap he had fallen onto was a student from the same school. Judging by the two dots on the collar of his uniform, he was in Mathayom five (eleventh grade). On the left side of his chest, he had his name embroidered: Parncheewa Satit-songklod.

The other boy wore square-framed glasses and was holding a thick book titled The Deep Mysteries of Space. The open page was wrinkled from the accident, contrasting with his completely motionless and imperturbable expression.

"Sorry. I just lost my balance, " Niran repeated, in case the boy hadn't heard him.

Nong Parncheewa didn't answer. He looked up. His brown eyes reflected the morning light and looked absolutely calm. Niran tilted his head, returning the gaze, refusing to back down.

What? What are you going to say? Why are you looking at me like you want to fight? Or are you going to say "it's fine"? Or "you don't know how to keep your balance"? You should be saying "I accept your apology, " shouldn't you?

Finally, the boy spoke: "Gravity." "Huh. . . ? "

"What happened to you when you fell just now. It's called gravity."

"According to Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation, everywhere in the universe there is a gravitational force between masses. This force is proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance that separates them ... " He recited it as if he were intoning a prayer. People around began to turn their heads to look with curiosity.

Hemmarat took the last bite of his popsicle.

"Why didn't you just tell us that from the start? If I had been there this morning, I would have laughed in his face! Who thinks of dropping a lecture like that after someone falls on them?"

Niran narrowed his eyes at his friend, who was laughing mischievously. He sighed and put the last piece of ice cream from the stick into his mouth. The sweet and sour taste improved his mood a bit.

"Those guys again, " Hemmarat pointed with his chin toward the other side of the cafeteria. Niran looked.

"The Boxing Club. Pure bullies. Why don't the teachers just disband them already? They're unbearable."

"And how are they going to disband them? The Boxing Club people have brought fame to the school many times. Just like your friend present here, Mr. Niran Kittimethi, our school's judo representative, " Thipok narrated, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up-"

"Aaaaaaah ! "

A scream from the other side of the cafeteria drew all eyes. A boy from the Boxing Club who just a moment ago was intimidating someone froze. His white uniform shirt was stained red. People nearby stepped away immediately.

Who had it been? Who dared to throw red water (some sweet drink) at someone from the Boxing Club?

The club boy screamed, looking for the culprit. But nobody knew anything, and nobody saw how that red liquid could have fallen from the ceiling beams of the cafeteria.

"The Ghost of the Science Building appeared again, " someone whispered.

"This place is too haunted."

"When is the school going to hire a shaman to do a cleansing?"

The rumors about the "Ghost of the Science Building, " famous throughout the school, floated in the air. Everyone said it took revenge on bullies to vent the anger held in its heart.

But for Niran, that "ghost" or whatever they wanted to call it was nothing more than an excuse to strike back at people with bad habits. Whatever it was. .. he didn't know. He didn't believe in those things.

How could ghosts exist? It was absurd.