Exam week left Zixo barely sleeping. He attended class in the morning, sold merchandise in the afternoon, and reviewed his notes at night. Sefti repeatedly asked him to get some rest.
“I don’t want you to make yourself sick just to prove something,” she said.
“I just want a chance.”
“A chance doesn’t have to be paid for by destroying yourself.”
Sefti brought food to Zixo’s rented room. She saw the old fan, the stacks of books, and the expense records written down to the last rupiah.
“Why do you never ask for help?”
“Because I want your help to come from a friend, not a savior.”
Sefti fell silent. She was beginning to understand that, for Zixo, love wasn’t a place to hide from life. It was someone who kept walking beside him.
The exam results were announced. Zixo got the highest grade. Professor Ratna offered him a position as a research assistant.
When his friends congratulated him, Zixo looked for Sefti. She stood at the end of the corridor, her eyes shining.
“I’m proud of you.”
That simple sentence meant more than the number on the announcement sheet.