Regi gave his mother a careless answer.
“She’s not Mom’s friend. She got on the wrong rideshare scooter and ended up here.”
Mely immediately responded with a smile, and it turned out the woman was the mother of the stiff man beside her. Mely’s face was deathly pale from holding back her hunger as she stepped closer and answered.
“Y-yeah... Ma’am, but I’m scared to go home alone because it’s already the middle of the night.”
“Oh, dear, how did you get lost? Poor thing. It’s already so late. Come inside first. We can talk in there where it’s more comfortable,” Regi’s mother replied sympathetically, especially after seeing Mely’s dirty clothes.
“Mom, she said she wanted to go home. Just let her go,” Regi cut in flatly, making Mely glare at him in annoyance.
“Regi... Didn’t you hear her? She said she’s afraid to go home alone. What’s wrong with you?” his mother replied as she opened the door wide.
‘Regi... So that’s this bro’s name—Regi,’ Mely thought with a crooked smile before speaking quickly.
“Bro Regi was going to take me home earlier, ma’am, but it looks like he changed his mind and doesn’t want to anymore,” Mely said, making things up freely.
Regi whipped his head toward her.
“Heh... When did I—”
“Oh... yeah, Bro, thanks, okay? For helping me earlier!” Mely quickly cut him off with a crooked smile, making Regi glare at her.
Mely showed no remorse, turning away and pretending not to understand.
“It’s all right, dear. Come inside first. Regi, bring our guest in. We’ll talk inside, okay? It’s not good to stand here talking in the doorway,” Regi’s mother ordered, leaving no room for argument before walking into the house.
“You owe me an explanation about those three thugs earlier. And if you bring trouble to my family, you’d better watch yourself,” Regi whispered, barely containing his anger, his voice full of menace.
“Gulp...”
Mely swallowed hard.
“Y-yes, I...”
“Oh my goodness, Regi... Why are you still outside? Come in, and eat while you’re at it. Bring your friend too. You haven’t eaten since you got back from selling things,” his mother scolded, planting one hand on her hip. Her words distracted Mely from the guilt weighing on her chest.
Regi nodded and went inside without inviting Mely along, making his mother shake her head.
“Sorry about my son. He’s just like that.” Regi’s mother reached for Mely’s arm and gently pulled her inside before she had a chance to refuse.
Once Mely entered, the house was nothing like the shabby place she had briefly imagined.
Accustomed to living in a luxurious home, Mely glanced around. The contrast was stark, shaped by their different lifestyles and the facilities of their surroundings.
The living room was simple, but neat.
A little while later, a sweet-faced teenage girl with shoulder-length hair came out, walking slowly as she carried a tray with a teapot and several cups. She was Ami, Regi’s younger sister, who was known for being calm, kind, and obedient.
“Please have some tea, miss,” Ami whispered politely, dipping her head slightly as she offered Mely a cup of warm sweet tea.
“Ah, thank you, um...”
“Ami, miss,” the girl gently corrected with a small smile, introducing herself.
“Thank you, Ami,” Mely repeated, smiling awkwardly as she scratched her not-so-itchy forehead.
“Well, luckily we have a few side dishes. There’s only fried tempeh, clear spinach soup, and some shrimp-paste sambal left over from this afternoon. Come on, Regi, don’t just stand there daydreaming in the corner. Go get the plates!” his mother ordered firmly.
Regi merely sighed in resignation and trudged off to get the plates as if he were carrying the burden of all humanity’s suffering.
Mely had initially planned to throw a fit and ask Regi for help, but now she was stuck sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, holding a bowl of warm rice as she stared at the plate in front of her. In the midst of her overwhelming awkwardness, the aroma of Regi’s mother’s homemade shrimp-paste sambal suddenly made her stomach growl violently.
‘Whatever. I’ll worry about how to get home later. What matters is getting some free food first,’ Mely thought resignedly before dipping into the sambal.
Before taking a bite, Mely accidentally glanced toward Regi, who was murmuring the basmalah.
“Bismillahirrahmanirrahim.”
Hearing him, Mely followed along with a sincere smile.
A few minutes later...
‘This is so good... Can I get more? But there’s barely any rice left,’ Mely thought as she stole a glance at the clear glass bowl containing the small amount of white rice that remained.
“Plop.”
Suddenly, Regi spooned some rice onto Mely’s plate.
“Are you still hungry?”
“I-I’m good,” Mely stammered awkwardly, embarrassed, then thought,
‘Jeez... I’m such a glutton. This is all the sambal’s fault. It’s so freaking good.’
In the dim bedroom, Regi lay on his back atop his kapok mattress.
“Mely...” he murmured, saying the name of the person who was now disturbing his sleep as he turned over. The kapok stuffing inside the mattress rustled, creating a familiar, gentle patter and releasing the distinctive scent of old kapok. For some reason, the mattress felt unusually soft, embracing his tired body after a full day of activity. Yet his eyes refused to close for even a second.
It was all because of the chatty girl he had dropped off just ten minutes earlier.