The scent of old paper and leftover evening dew always filled the Student Council office whenever the rain let up. For Claire, the cramped room piled high with proposals and old banners was the safest place to escape the hustle and bustle of life at Nusantara High School. A place where she could be alone without being considered strange—or at least, that was what she hoped, until the hurried squeak of sneakers shattered the silence.
The aluminum door creaked loudly as it was shoved against the wall. A teenage boy came in with sweat-soaked hair, ragged breaths, and dried dirt smeared across the shoulder of his white uniform.
“Claire! Thank goodness you’re still here. I looked everywhere, from the cafeteria to the third floor, and couldn’t find you,” Aru called as he tossed his black backpack onto the messy meeting table.
Claire didn’t turn around right away. Her hand continued carefully correcting the draft for the blood drive proposal with a red pen.
“I’m the one responsible for the paperwork, Aru. Of course I’m here. What took you so long at practice? Doesn’t the outdoor court schedule end at five?”
Aru pulled a blue plastic chair right beside Claire, then sat on it backward, his chest resting against the backrest. He flashed a slight grin, revealing the distinctive snaggletooth that never failed to make the tenth-grade girls whisper in the hallway.
“The seniors asked for extra time for the intrasquad game. Besides, Coach Broto didn’t blow the whistle until after the last ten points,” Aru replied casually. Without asking, he reached for Claire’s unopened chocolate milk, stuck in the straw, and took a drink. “Can I have it? I’m seriously dying of thirst.”
Claire let out a quiet snort but didn’t stop moving her fingers. “You’re so used to this. Mom bought that for me, not for the basketball team’s star forward who forgot to bring his own drink.”
“Same difference, Claire. Ever since we were seven, I’ve always eaten half your popsicles anyway,” Aru said with a chuckle. The sound of him gulping echoed through the dim room.
Their friendship wasn’t the sweet kind that grew from exchanging poems or sentimental promises. Their bond had been forged on the concrete floors of the houses facing each other, through scraped knees from falling off tricycles, and across hundreds of hours spent together since childhood. To Aru, Claire was a natural part of his life—like air or the road home. To Claire, Aru’s presence was so familiar that it was hard to imagine what it would feel like if he weren’t there.
“By the way, Division Four was asking about the committee stamp earlier,” Aru said after finishing the carton of milk in a matter of seconds. “They said you were keeping it?”
“It’s in the second drawer. I organized it earlier this afternoon,” Claire replied, friendly but flat. She held out the sheet of paper she had just finished. “Sign here in the Committee Chair section. Don’t put it in the wrong column again like you did last week.”
Aru took the pen from Claire’s fingers. For a fraction of a second, their fingers brushed. The chill of Claire’s hand met the warmth of Aru’s palm, rough from friction with the basketball. Claire held her breath for a moment—a subtle reflex she managed to conceal perfectly behind her thin-framed glasses, which had slipped slightly down the bridge of her nose.
“Yes, ma’am, Secretary,” Aru teased as he signed his name in a broad, confident scrawl. “You’re so calm, Claire. Everyone else is freaking out over the sponsors who still haven’t paid, and you’re sitting there all neat, revising documents while listening to music.”
“If I started freaking out too, our event next week would fall apart. Someone has to stay rational in this organization, Aru,” Claire said calmly, her fingers straightening the edges of the papers until they lined up.
Aru studied his friend’s face from up close. Claire didn’t wear flashy makeup like the other popular girls. She rarely smiled broadly in public, tended to be quiet, and always looked at people with a direct gaze that those who didn’t know her sometimes mistook for arrogance. But Aru knew her well. Behind that calm exterior, Claire was the most reliable person he had ever had in his life.
“You’re amazing, Claire. Seriously,” Aru said softly, his voice turning warm and sincere. “I don’t know what this year’s Student Council administration would look like if I weren’t the committee chair and you weren’t the secretary.”
Claire stopped what she was doing. Her eyes met Aru’s dark brown irises directly. His gaze was so honest, so innocent, so free of any ulterior motive—a true friend’s gaze that concealed absolutely no secrets.
“Don’t start flattering me. I’ll charge you extra for secretary services,” Claire shot back, trying to break the silence that had suddenly grown far too heavy for her.
Aru burst out laughing. His laughter echoed through the small room, chasing away the silence that had briefly settled there. “Sure. I’ll pay you in seblak from the place by the front gate. Two servings, extra spicy, just the way you like it.”
The sun had nearly disappeared behind the school buildings, leaving purplish-orange light reflected in the window glass. At last, they left the Student Council office after making sure every door and window was securely locked.
The school hallways were already deserted. Their footsteps fell in steady rhythm across the clean granite floor. Aru walked on the outside, holding a basketball under his arm, while Claire stayed close beside him with her laptop bag cradled in her arms.
“Are we still studying together tonight for the History test?” Aru asked when they reached the motorcycle parking area.
“We are, if you don’t fall asleep again at eight,” Claire replied pointedly.
“I promise I won’t fall asleep! I need your notes for the World War II chapter. Your notes are the neatest in our entire grade,” Aru pleaded, showing off his best smile.
Claire only shook her head, though the corners of her lips lifted in a small smile she couldn’t hold back. “Fine. Seven o’clock on my front porch. Don’t forget to bring your own textbook.”
“Got it! I’ll bring my mom’s homemade egg martabak as payment,” Aru said enthusiastically as he climbed onto his black automatic scooter and put on his helmet.
He turned the ignition, started the engine, then looked at Claire one more time before twisting the throttle. “Watch where you’re walking, Claire. Don’t space out on the way home.”
“You watch where you’re driving. Don’t speed,” Claire called back.
Aru gave her a brief wave, then rode off through the last of the evening light, leaving behind a thin plume of exhaust and the rumble of his engine gradually fading into the distance. Claire stood for a moment at the edge of the school gate, watching Aru’s back until he disappeared around the bend in the main road.
She let out a long breath. The night air, already turning cold, seeped into her bones. Where she stood, Claire touched her own chest, where her heart was beating a little faster than usual. She knew exactly what those heartbeats meant, but for now, the best place for those feelings was still hidden tightly behind the smile of a childhood friend.
To be continued...