Mr. Oum, the homeroom teacher of Class 11-A, started the first lesson as soon as William and his group left the classroom.
The room slowly returned to normal, but the earlier fight still hung in the air like a shadow.
Vuthy kept muttering quietly, worried looks at Markara's bruised face. The red mark on his cheek was still there, and a little dried blood was still on his lip.
Thida and Pisey didn't say anything, but the worry on their faces was easy to see.
Everyone in class was thinking the same thing:
Who really exposed Bunheng and the others?
Most students thought it was Pisey.
She was the only one who had been missing from her seat earlier. And when William pointed at her, it looked like she was about to admit it.
But before she could speak, Markara suddenly stepped in and took the blame.
He said it was all his idea.
Nobody understood why.
That made Vuthy and Thida even more confused. Why would he lie to protect someone he wasn't close to?
Markara and Pisey were never seen together. She was always with Thida, her close friend and the class president.
Markara knew something didn't add up.
He didn't believe Pisey did it out of malice.
There had to be a reason.
As the day went on, things slowly went back to normal.
Teachers came and went. Students opened their books. The sounds of pens scribbling, chairs moving, and quiet talking filled the room again.
Everyone got busy with their schoolwork, trying to focus.
Especially Thida and Markara.
As class president and vice president, they had extra responsibilities. Meetings with the school committee, event planning with other classes, and organizing upcoming activities. Their schedule was full from morning until afternoon.
Because of that, they barely had time to talk about what happened.
Until lunch break arrived.
In the busy cafeteria, the sound of students chatting filled the air. Trays clattered, chairs scraped across the floor, and the smell of warm food drifted through the room—rice, soup, fried chicken, and more.
It was loud. Crowded. Normal.
In the busy cafeteria, the sound of students chatting filled the air. Trays clattered, chairs scraped against the floor, and the smell of warm food floated everywhere—rice, soup, fried chicken, and more.
It was loud. Crowded. Normal.
The cafeteria at their school wasn't just any cafeteria.
It was run by a well-known chef, and the meals were always fresh, tasty, and balanced. That was no surprise—after all, this school was one of the top schools in the country.
Many students here came from rich and powerful families. Some were even children of politicians, celebrities, or foreign diplomats. The school had high expectations, and it showed in everything—from the food to the uniforms to the education.
In the corner of the cafeteria, a boy sat with a tray piled high with food—rice, meat, soup, and more stacked like a feast.
Across from him sat his friend, staring in disbelief.
"Are you sure you're okay after that punch?" he asked, pausing as his eyes moved to the mountain of food in front of the boy.
"But honestly... I'm more surprised that you still have an appetite after all that."
It was Vuthy—the quiet, nerdy boy from earlier. Still concerned.
The boy across from him?
Markara.
Smiling, Markara picked up his spoon and took a big bite.
"You know," he said between chews, "I worked really hard to get accepted into this school with a full scholarship."
He paused to swallow, then grinned.
"Because the food here is amazing."
Vuthy was disbelieving within his statements.
"Anyway, why would you take the blame ?"
Vuthy frowned, his expression a mix of concern and annoyance.
"Why are you always like this?" he muttered.
Markara raised an eyebrow, slowly set his spoon down, and turned to face him.
"Don't you remember last year?" he asked calmly. "When I first transferred here."
Vuthy blinked, and then the memory hit him.
Of course he remembered.
Last year, Markara had just been accepted into the school on a full scholarship. He was new, quiet, and clearly from a different background than most students here.
Vuthy had been the first person he met.
Back then, Vuthy had it rough. He was often picked on, blamed for things he didn't do, and ignored by most of the class.
But Markara, even though he didn't know anyone and out of place, had stepped up.
He stood by Vuthy's side, asking the others to stop picked on someone who had done nothing wrong.
He simply believed in doing the right thing.
"Come on, man, at least—"
"Excuse me. Is it okay if we join you two?"
A soft, cold voice cut in before Vuthy could finish his sentence.
Both boys looked up.
It was Thida.
She stood beside their table, holding a lunch box, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever.
standing just behind her was Pisey, her eyes low and hands clutching to her lunch box.
Without saying a word, Vuthy quickly stood up and slid over to sit beside Markara, making space across the table.
Then Thida nodded and took the seat in front of Markara. Pisey sat beside her, still avoiding everyone's eyes.
The air around the table grew heavier.
All eyes in the cafeteria were locked on one table.
The table where the four of them sat—Markara, Thida, Pisey, and Vuthy—face to face.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Why are they sitting together?"
"Isn't that the guy who got punched this morning?"
"Wait...is William accepting that ?"
"And that's Pisey… didn't she almost confess earlier?"
The gossip flowed from table to table, voices low but steady.
The tension at that one table stood out like a spotlight in a dark room.
But none of the four said a word.
Pisey and Thida quietly opened their lunch boxes, their movements calm.
Across from them, Markara had already picked up his spoon and was halfway through his meal—chewing like nothing in the world was bothering him.
Meanwhile, Vuthy sat stiffly beside him, clearly uncomfortable. His eyes darted around the cafeteria, his expression a mix of nervous and annoyed.
"William and I aren't engaged."
Thida's voice broke the silence. Calm. Clear.
"He was just one of the potential fiancés my parents considered. Nothing more."
Her expression didn't change.
Vuthy blinked in surprise. Pisey froze, eyes wide.
Markara just nodded, still chewing as he continued eating like it wasn't anything shocking.
"F-For real?! My lady— I mean, Thida!" Pisey blurted, clearly startled. She almost dropped her chopsticks.
"It was my fault for not telling you everything," Thida said softly, turning her head to Pisey with a small smile.
"I understand … why you did it."
The words hung in the air.
Most people at school didn't know, but Pisey wasn't just Thida's close friend.
She was also her personal maid—someone who had grown up by Thida's side since they were children.
So when Pisey first heard the rumor that Thida was going to be engaged to William, she started digging.
And what she found… was worse than expected.
She had learned the truth about William, how he acted behind the scenes, the people he hurt, and how he used his family name to get away with everything.
Pisey was scared for Thida.
She didn't want her to end up with someone like him.
So, she made a plan.
She secretly took a picture of William's group hanging out—specifically catching Bunheng and Leap smoking at their usual spot. She thought the image would be enough to embarrass William's family and maybe stop the engagement from happening.
But things didn't go the way she expected.
She hadn't meant to get Bunheng in trouble.
She didn't think it would turn into such a big mess.
But William and his group were always causing problems, in school and outside of it. And no one ever stood up to them.
After explaining everything, Pisey lowered her head.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I should've talked to you first… to both of you. I acted on my own, and I didn't think it would turn out like this."
Her voice trembled slightly, but she didn't try to hide it.
She was being honest.
There was a short silence.
But Markara didn't scold her.
Instead, he smiled gently.
"Honestly… I think you were really brave."
Pisey looked up, surprised. Not just Pisey but also Thida.
"You were trying to protect someone important to you. That takes guts," Markara said, still calm, still kind. "Most people would just stay quiet."
"I will talk with William about this.."
Thida chimed in and paused.
".. More importantly… I hope he and his friends are not going to bother you."
And then, she added something none of them expected.
"Also… I'll be transferring overseas next week."
Vuthy was the only one who looked truly shocked.
"What?!" he blurted out, almost dropping his spoon.
It seemed like Pisey already knew. That explained why she had tried to cut ties between Thida and William so suddenly. Her actions made more sense now.
But Markara?
He just smiled.
"Well, that's our class president," he said with a light chuckle. "I can't believe you're already heading abroad."
He looked calm, but deep inside, something ached.
Thida lived in a different world than he did.
Markara came from a poor and unknown family.
His life was quiet—simple. He had grown up with only his father, ever since he could remember. He never knew who his mother was, and his father never talked much about the past.
They had migrated here from overseas with almost nothing.
His father was an Englishman—a calm, kind man who worked as both a priest and an English teacher at a small local church. That church was also where they lived.
The two of them shared a small room behind the chapel. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Maybe that was why Markara never complained. Why he always smiled. Why he was used to keeping small problems to himself.
He didn't have money, status, or a family name that could protect him.
But he had something else.
Kindness and the strength to stand up for others, even when no one else would.