Finally, the first day of New Student Orientation was over. Vita and Diandra packed up their notes. This time, Diandra had actually paid attention because she didn't want to get punished again.
"You seriously made my heart want to do a backflip earlier!"
"Huh? How so?"
Vita shook her head with a knowing smile. "I can still picture Senior Gibran's red face when you teased him."
Diandra giggled, her mind drifting back to the cafeteria an hour earlier.
Gibran had been coughing like he was dying. Vita quickly handed him a tissue, while Diandra offered him the bottled water that belonged to him.
"Oh my gosh, Senior, slow down. You ate so fast you choked."
Gibran was still coughing a little, trying to calm down and shake off his awkwardness in front of Diandra and Vita.
"Fine by me. I was just surprised you joked around like that."
"Sorry. I just wanted to lighten the mood."
Gibran took a sip of water, then replied, "If someone else heard you say that, they might get the wrong idea."
Diandra pushed the memory away and turned to Vita, who had already slung her bag over her shoulder.
"Do you think Senior Gibran would've done a brutal backflip?"
Vita shook her head. "If he had, everything in his stomach would've come flying out."
Diandra laughed brightly, tickled by the thought.
The two of them walked toward the parking lot, giggling like idiots as they discussed completely pointless things.
"I'm heading out first, Dian. My boyfriend's already here to pick me up," Vita said, then waved at Diandra.
Diandra nodded and waved back as she walked through the school gate.
Suddenly, a guy stopped his motorcycle right beside her, making Diandra glance over.
"Hurry up and get on!" the guy said after raising his helmet visor.
Diandra only frowned in confusion and continued walking, pretending not to care.
"Are you deaf?"
Diandra stopped and turned around.
"No! And who are you to order me around?" she shot back, planting her hands on her hips.
"Are you getting on or not?"
"No!"
"Are you getting on, or do I have to force you?" Irritated, he took off his helmet.
"Senior Rafa?" Diandra's eyes widened.
"You want to go home, right? Hurry up and get on!" he pressed.
"It's okay, Senior. Dian can just take a public minibus!"
Rafa's glare turned razor-sharp, and Diandra decided to get on because she didn't want him adding to her punishment.
They were silent the entire ride. Diandra occasionally glanced at Rafa as he drove with a serious expression.
Rafa had also been watching her through the rearview mirror from behind his helmet.
"We're on Jl. Anggrek now. Which house is yours?"
"Just keep going, Senior. Turn right at the end."
When they arrived in front of Diandra's fence, Rafa looked over her modest-looking house.
Diandra handed back the helmet and smiled because Rafa had driven her home.
"Thanks, Senior! Aren't you going to stop by for a bit?"
"Some other time!"
Rafa glanced down. Diandra followed his gaze, which immediately made her take a step back.
"What is it, Senior?"
"Don't wear those beat-up shoes tomorrow!"
"But Dian only has one pair, Senior," she replied, scratching the back of her neck even though it wasn't itchy.
Rafa picked up the paper bag hanging from his motorcycle and handed it to Diandra.
"Here. Wear these new ones!"
Diandra stared at him in confusion. She looked at the shoebox, which still had the price barcode stuck to it. Her eyes widened when she saw how much the shoes cost.
Holy crap, these shoes cost five hundred thousand?! she thought in shock.
"You didn't have to, Senior. I feel bad accepting them."
"They're yours now. The important thing is, you won't have to wear those beat-up shoes tomorrow," he said, immediately speeding away on his motorcycle.
"But this..." Diandra watched Rafa's back disappear around the corner.
When did he even buy these shoes?! Diandra stared blankly, feeling touched.
So Senior Rafa isn't as cold as he acts.
Diandra shook her head hard. Get a grip, Dian. Don't get all flustered just because he gave you shoes. Don't start imagining things.
She let out a sigh. Next time, you have to return the favor.