Dika, Cheresse, and Felix walked away from Class X Social Sciences 3. The two young men led the way.
They were climbing the stairs to the second floor. halfway up, between the turn in the staircase and the second floor, there was a small room. From the outside, it looked like a storage closet. But when the door was opened, there was a table and several chairs inside. The room looked almost like a tiny office.
“Che—ch—how do you pronounce your name again?” Dika rambled as he walked into the room.
“Ceris, upperclassman,” the girl replied.
“Oh, okay. Ceris, have a seat! Make yourself at home.” Dika smiled warmly. His eyes also glanced at the chair across from him, subtly urging her to sit in it.
“By the way, you already know me and him?” Dika asked again. This time, his light-brown eyes flicked to the left, toward the bench where his friend was sitting.
Cheresse nodded. Of course she knew the name of the upperclassman who had become the subject of gossip everywhere on the very first day.
“Okay. By the way, I wanna ask you something…”
The girl reflexively blinked as her hands clasped together in her lap. She raised her chin slightly, trying to quiet her increasingly racing heartbeat.
“Why didn’t you tell us yesterday that you had an urgent matter to deal with?”
“Yesterday, I—”
“You’re being sooo formal! Just relax when you’re talking to me,” Dika interrupted, sounding mildly exasperated.
Cheresse took another breath, quickly replacing the formal words she had prepared with something more casual. “I was late to an event yesterday, upperclassman.”
“So that’s what happened.” Dika nodded repeatedly. “But weren’t you afraid to just leave your motorcycle there? What if someone stole it?!”
“That wasn’t going to happen,” the girl replied confidently. “My motorcycle happened to be parked in front of the security post. So the security guard could keep an eye on it twenty-four seven, right?”
Without realizing it, the young man who had been silent all this time began to react. Apparently, he was interested in the subject of the conversation too.
“Hahahaha! Smart.” Dika reflexively clapped, something he often did whenever he found something funny. “So, do you want to call your parents? They can take the motorcycle home for you.”
This time, Cheresse shook her head firmly. Her action made the two young men in front of her exchange glances.
“Why not?” Felix, who had been silent until then, finally decided to speak up.
“I can’t tell Mama. She’d have trouble leaving the house in her wheelchair.” The girl lowered her head deeply, no longer daring to look at either upperclassman.
But her answer made Felix and Dika feel awkward instead.
“What about your dad?” Dika asked quietly.
“Papa passed away three years ago, upperclassman.”
“Sorry… Dika and I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay, upperclassman. I know you two didn’t mean to offend me,” Cheresse quickly interrupted. She didn’t want either of them to get swallowed up by guilt over something they had no reason to feel guilty about.
Dika leaned back, raising one hand to lightly massage his temple. “You brought the motorcycle key, right?”
Hesitantly, the girl gave a small nod.
“Okay. After school, you can take the motorcycle home. But you have to promise me you won’t bring it to school again until you’ve gotten your driver’s license. Understand?” the young man declared, leaving no room for argument.
The decision brought a faint smile to her face. Cheresse nodded, agreeing to Dika’s condition, even as her mind spent a split second considering other ways to bring her motorcycle to school without getting caught in another traffic sweep.
“Don’t think you can just ride your motorcycle and park it outside the school,” Felix snapped, as if he knew exactly what the girl was thinking.
Damn it! HOW DID HE KNOW?!
“In that case, you can go back to class,” Dika ordered.
Cheresse gave a small nod, then rose from her seat. She bowed slightly before heading toward the exit.
“Cheresse.”
The call made the girl turn around. Though faint, a flicker of surprise appeared in her expression. It was the first time anyone had called her name with its original pronunciation.
“About what my friend—that Wulan—said, I’m sorry.”
Cheresse smiled. The warmth that had filled her eyes vanished in an instant. Her jaw tightened, as if she were trying to swallow back words she didn’t want to let out.
“Don’t worry. This isn’t the first time for me.”
To be continued