Rain fell like someone who had forgotten how to stop.
Ayla stood in front of Bluemart with her gray pashmina scarf pulled tight over her chin, her fingertip tapping nonstop at the phone screen, which still showed the same red message: no drivers available. Seventeen minutes already. Behind her, the cashier was straightening the shelves of sliced bread, and when Ayla turned around for the fourth time, she saw Tama.
He was wearing his Bluemart vest and reversible cap, a black helmet in one hand. He had just finished his shift. His light-blue XSR was parked alone in the corner, already soaked through.
"Still can't get a ride?"
Ayla shook her head. Rain had already soaked the toes of her white shoes. "Everyone's gone home. Nobody wants to go out in rain like this."
Tama glanced outside, then tossed his motorcycle key from one hand to the other. "I'm going to Sanubari. It's on the way to your boarding house. Want me to take you?"
Ayla stopped tapping the screen.
She knew Sanubari Switch. The hangout where communications students were always packed in at ten at night, where the walls were covered in pen scribbles, where the coffee was always too bitter and the music always too loud. The place filled every Saturday night with the same people, always laughing too loudly until the neighbors complained.
"Weren't you meeting your friends?"
"Yeah. But you can come too. If you want." Tama scratched his neck without looking her in the eye. "Or I can take you straight to your boarding house. That's fine too. Up to you."
Ayla looked at her phone again. The last chat from Raihan had been four hours ago. Just one word: busy. There was no sign he would reply again tonight. He hadn't asked whether she'd made it home, hadn't asked whether she was stuck in the rain. They'd been dating since their sophomore year of high school. Back then, even a second of rain was enough for Raihan to call her three times.
They stood silently beneath the convenience store's awning, listening to the rain pound against the corrugated metal roof.
"You don't smoke anymore," Ayla said suddenly.
Tama turned. He pulled his hand from his vest pocket, as if he had only just realized there was no pack of cigarettes in there. "Three months now."
"Why?"
Tama stared at the rain in front of them. His voice was flat, as if he were saying the most ordinary thing in the world. "One day, my wife and kids won't deserve a husband and father who coughs every morning."
Ayla fell silent.
She hadn't expected that answer. And worst of all, in that same instant, she compared him to Raihan. Raihan, who had sent her a photo just last night of himself smoking at a street stall with one of his college friends, and who, when Ayla told him not to smoke so much, had only replied, "It's just a look."
"All right," Ayla said at last. Her voice trembled slightly. "I'll come to Sanubari."
Tama raised his eyebrows. He hadn't expected that. But he only nodded and tossed the spare helmet at her.
The rain pounded against their helmets the whole way. Ayla held Tama around the waist from behind, and she could feel the man's body tense the entire ride. Neither of them spoke. The wind carried the smell of rain, gasoline, and the lemon body wash Tama had used that morning.
She knew Tama liked her. Everyone knew. Since their first semester, since the first time they walked into Introduction to Communications together, since Tama had always saved the seat beside him, always bought her bottled water when she forgot to bring her own, always said nothing at all. Until one day Ayla announced that she was dating Raihan. After that, Tama slowly pulled away. He never saved her a seat again. Never asked how she was doing. As if he had really managed to forget her.
But Ayla had always known. People trying to forget someone were always too obvious.
They walked into Sanubari just as the worst song of 2019 was playing at full volume. Every table in the back was full of people from their year. Everyone fell silent at once.
Then someone whistled.
"HEY, TAMA! WHO'D YOU BRING?"
The entire room turned. Someone slapped the table. Someone shouted Ayla's name. Someone opened a soda bottle with a sharp pop. Everyone laughed, everyone elbowed one another, everyone looked at the two of them as if they'd just witnessed the most interesting thing to happen all semester.
Tama froze in the doorway. He had only just realized what he had done. He had only just realized that he had brought Ayla, someone else's girlfriend, into a place where all their friends were gathered, in the middle of the rain, on a night when her boyfriend was in another city.
Ayla took off her helmet. Her pashmina was a mess, several strands of hair stuck to her forehead. She gave a small smile as she looked at everyone making a scene, then at Tama, who was still standing stiffly in front of her.
She didn't regret it.
Not at all.
And most frightening of all, she felt very, very calm.
In the corner of the room, someone had already taken a photo. The class group chat would be buzzing all night. Tomorrow, everyone would be talking about this. Raihan would see it too.
Ayla knew that.
And she didn't care.
She simply walked past Tama, pulled the man's arm inward, and said loudly enough for everyone to hear:
"Come on. Sit down. You wanted to hang out too, didn't you?"