Afgan

It has been two days since the unforeseen encounter that left him restless, but he couldn't find the subtlest way to search for that hazel eyed girl. He did get some basic information about her; her name is Raisa Andriana, 2nd grader, a prominent singer of their school band, and a vice president of the school's choir. She is also popular for her looks, and for the fair amount of her admirers, which included famous boys in the school and beyond. What a high wall. 

Whereas him? 

A perennial wall....flower. 

Afgan sighed, slouched upon his desk where his ever present, dark blue note book sat opened. He mentally scolded himself for indulging in a fleeting moment to believe that such a girl would take a second look at him, let alone to return his smile with somekind of bashful expression... 

"I must be crazy for imagining those things...," he muttered exasperatedly. 

He closed his eyes for several seconds, letting the buzzing noises around him filled his senses. When he drew out of his state, the book was gone. 

He blinked several times, confused. Then alarmed. 

"Where...who..., " frantically, he searched up and down, then stood to look for it left and right. 

"Hey, looking for this?," a familiar voice called out to him, and without looking, he groaned in annoyance. 

"Dit...is it my book? Give it back, NOW!," he commanded, before turning to face his classmate who stood two feet from him, holding the book while casually skims through its pages. 

When he didn't budge, Afgan marched towards him to take the book himself, to the amusement of their other classmates. Afgan was always a timid boy, one that would avoid trouble from distance, but everybody knew that he was a territorial type, particularly with that note book. Not even his closest friends could read it freely. Now that he was all rallied up, the rest ceased their activities to see what will happen next. 

"Chill man, I'm just curious, really, " Radit, the boy who held his book hostage, outstretched his hand towards the looming owner, barricading him from moving closer. Afgan was trying to be patient, but the memory of what he just wrote an hour before with the singer girl's smile in mind came in flash, and his eyes widened in terror. 

He refused to stand back, and rashly jumped to snatch the book unsuccessfully. 

" I wont allow, give it back !, " his voice raised an octave, while he pushed forward with all his might. 

Radit, in the other hand, caught on to some very interesting writing on the last opened page. 

"Wait..what is this? A poetry ?, " he asked loudly, with a naughty smirk, and poor Afgan got more panicked as he kept trying to grab the book back.

"Its nothing! Give me!," 

"Nothing? Then its okay if I read it for the entire class, so that they know how interesting...," 

"NO, please, give it back..," thoroughly in fear, Afgan resorted to plead without stopping his effort to have his book back in his possession. Unfortunately, Radit was stronger and more agile than him, also taller so his reach was farther. 

"Engkau wanita tercantikku, yang pernah kutemukan

Wajahmu mengalihkan...duniaku..," 

(You are the most beautiful lady I've ever met,

Your face distract my world...) 

Radit read it out loud mercilessly, and the following silence was like a thunder to Afgan's ears. He just hoped fervently that he didn't write the girl's name, or his entire days left in this school will be an endless teasing...and mocking. He could hear their whispers from afar; 'How dare he dreaming of seducing the school's artist with a measly poem?!?'

"To...Ra...", Radit smugly continued to recite, but another hand quickly seized the book from his grasp, and the entire class was divided to cheer and protest. 

"Stop making scene and get back to your seats!," 

Practically everyone dissolved and reclaimed their seats, laughters and chatters still aloud, despite Mr Joko, or Mr Jo, their homeroom teacher stern gaze. Radit pouted, having his little show interrupted, but Mr Jo was having none of it. This class, III-IPS 2, or social major, is his turf and even though the students were rough sometimes, they mostly obedient. Except for this trouble maker. Mr Jo pointed towards his seat and Radit trudged back towards it, displease. 

"Mr Jo..can I have my book back?," Afgan's small, but firm voice came from his back, and though he wanted to take a peek inside of the said object, all eyes were on them and he couldn't destroy the principles he had taught them on how to respect other's properties. 

"Sure, here you are, " the sturdy teach handed the book to Afgan's expectant hands, and he visibly relieved. 

"Thank you, Sir. "

"Wait, young man, " 

"Y..yes, Sir?,"

"I happen to hear the poem when I entered the class. Its short, but good. "

"Ehm...thank you, Sir, " now all he wanted is to sit down and have this conversation ended ASAP. 

"Do you have someone in mind when you wrote that?,"

"A...wh..at..," he stuttered, and the entire class erupted in loud teases and wolf whistling. 

"Tell us..tell us..tell us....," 

"Do you by any chance have a girlfriend during the student exchange?," 

"Take her to proom..," 

"What did he write..oh right... You are the fairest lady I've ever met...ahahah," 

"So sweet...whos that not so lucky girl..," 

"Enough kids! No need to answer if you dont want to. But I think you might want to contribute to the prom committee as the representative of our class, " 

"But..Sir..we already have band, right,"

"It doesnt hurt to have good addition tho,"

Cornered, Afgan gritted his teeth and meekly answered,

"I...maybe can..,"

"Sure, just join the committee at the recess, or after school, they will be practising at or around the hall, you know where to find them, right,"

"Yes, Sir," 

"Great. Now you can sit. I have announcement to everyone regarding the upcoming graduation, hear..."

~ 

Afgan walked towards the busy hall, filled by mostly second graders who were the main committee. 

A soft voice humming some notes caught his ears, and he curiously followed it, towards the stage. What he saw made his heart jumped. Its the hazel eyed girl! 

She was standing on the raised platform that served as the standing stage, checking the microphone, and some boys who Afgan recognized as the school band activists stood behind her, in their respective instruments. 

"So..she probably going to perform at our prom, " he thought to himself. 

He continued watching her, and when she looked at his direction, he smiled spontaneously. 

She looked bewildered, and immediately turned her gaze away. 

That wiped the smile from his face. He cleared his throat several times, before walked away, too embarrassed to look back. 

~

Raisa 

It was a hot afternoon, and she felt like her whole body was a squeezed sponge. The class was over, but the band's practice was just begin. She dragged her feet to the hall, where the usual members waiting. 

"All here?," she greeted them casually, putting her bag over the pile of bags near the corner. 

"Naufal is still at the loo," chirped Doni the bassist. 

"Okay. I'll check the mic now first then," she walked up the platform and casually grabbed the black microphone on its stand, humming all the while. 

She was still in the middle of the checking when Sam, their keybordist, tapped his keyboard. 

"Someone's watching you, Ya. I think a senior. Do you know him?," 

A senior??

That made her raised her head in instant,

Could it be...., however unlikely....,

and....there he was, the boy from the corridor! He was clearly looking at her, and when their eyes met, he flashed his smile again. That shy, dimpled smile. 

Thump! 

She felt something thud loudly inside her chest, making her hyperaware of herself, thus sending her to duck out, avoiding his eyes. To cover it, she pretended to talk back to Sam, shrugging her shoulders. 

"I don't know.., " 

"Just another admirer probably," commented Leon the guitarist, jealousy not so smoothly hidden from his tone. 

"Maybe just passing by, see, he walks away already," Doni pointed out with his chin, then back to his bass.

Trying not to be so obvious, she glanced towards the senior with the tail of her eyes. True enough, all she could see was his back, walking away swiftly to the door without looking back. Near the exit, he slowed down a little when two boys seemed to talk to him, pointing to the stage. But to her disappointment, he shook his head, then continued to walk and disappear out of the door. 

Did she simply imagine that he was looking at her, smiling? 

A little deflated, although she didnt know exactly why, she sighed and turned her attention back to the mic and song. 

"Hey guys, did my friend stop by?, " a familiar voice attracted their attention. It was Aldi, the leader of the other band scheduled to perform at the prom, and a senior. 

"Who was it?," 

"Nobody came, or search for you, Bro," replied Sam. 

"He is third grader too, forced to join us by mr Jo out of his will," 

"Oh," Doni exclaimed, "maybe that bespectacled boy from earlier?," 

At that, Raisa found a new interest in their conversation. 

"Most likely its him, where did he go then?," 

"Dunno, he was here briefly, then walked out. Maybe cos he didn't see you here," 

"I see. Thanks guys, now go back to rehearse, we want perfection for our prom. Bye, Ya," Aldi threw her a little wink and proceeded to leave the building. 

Now thoroughly sure that the boy was never there for her in the first place, Raisa shook her head to chase away the her heavy mood, and started to sing half-heartedly which went unnoticed by her friends.

At the end of their rehearsal, she felt a little better. It wasn't perfect yet, their performance, but it progressed better than yesterday which lifted her mood. 

However, there was something about that particular senior's smile that stubbornly stayed in her head, following her all the way home, annoyed her. 

~