The next day, Arga didn't show up.
I knew it shouldn't have been a problem. We weren't anything to each other. He wasn't obligated to pick me up. I had never asked him to, either. But still, when it was past five and I walked out of the building without seeing his motorcycle in the parking lot, something felt strange. I stood there for a moment. Waiting. Though I didn't know what for. Until I finally realized— I really had been waiting for Arga. I sighed and walked home alone.
The second day was the same. No messages. No sound of a motorcycle outside campus. No Arga suddenly showing up and saying, “Took you long enough.” I tried to act normal. Even when my classmate asked, “Arga isn't picking you up?” I answered quickly. “No.” “Why?” “He's busy.” My classmate nodded. “Ohhh.” I pretended to be busy opening my laptop. When really, I was waiting for one thing. A message from Arga. Until nighttime. Nothing. I finally opened our chat. The last message was still mine. Me: Not my business. I read that sentence over and over. Suddenly, it felt stupid. Why had I answered like that yesterday? Why hadn't I just said I didn't like seeing him close to another girl? But if I said that, did I even have the right? Not yet. Maybe I never would. I locked my phone. “Whatever.” I tried to sleep. But five minutes later, I picked up my phone again. There was still no message.
On the third day, I saw Arga on campus. He was standing in front of the classroom with a few of his friends. I automatically slowed down. Hoping he'd see me. And he did. Our eyes met. Usually, Arga would come over to me. Not this time. He only gave me a small nod. Then went back to talking with his friend. I stopped. It felt like being slapped for no reason. “What's wrong with me…” I whispered to myself. “Who?” I turned around. My classmate was already standing beside me. “Nothing.” She looked in Arga's direction. “Oh.” I immediately started walking. “Come on, let's go in.” But after only a few steps, someone's voice rang out. “Hey.” I turned around. Arga. He was standing a few yards behind me. “What time are you heading home?” I almost smiled. But I held it back. “Five.” He nodded. “I'll pick you up.” Simple. But for some reason, those three words managed to bring my mood right back up. I gave a small nod. “Okay.” Arga left again. My classmate immediately looked at me. “Wasn't it not your business?” I shot her a glance. “Shut up.” She laughed.
At exactly five, Arga was already waiting. I got on without saying much. He was quiet too. The few minutes of the ride felt awkward. Until I finally worked up the courage. “Ga.” “Hmm?” “Are you mad?” “No.” “Then why didn't you pick me up yesterday?” “You said it wasn't my business.” I immediately fell silent. “So?” “I thought you didn't need me.” I stared at his back. “That's not what I meant.” “Then what did you mean?” I didn't know how to answer. Arga slowed the motorcycle at a red light. “You can tell me if you don't like something.” I lowered my head. “But don't say it's not my business when you actually expect me to care.” I went quiet. My heart started beating faster. “How do you know I expected you to care?” “It shows.” “What shows?” “You.” I laughed nervously. “Such confidence.” “It's not confidence.” Arga turned slightly. “I just know you.” That sentence made me fall silent again. The light turned green. The motorcycle started moving again. A few minutes later, I finally asked, “What if I said I didn't like you being close to her?” Arga was silent. Then his answer came softly. “Why?” I bit my lip. “I… don't know.” “Jealous?” I didn't answer. Arga gave a quiet laugh. “Answer me.” “A little.” The motorcycle suddenly stopped by the side of the road. I almost hit his back. “Why'd you stop?” Arga turned around. His look made me nervous. “Say that again.” “What?” “What you just said.” I furrowed my brow. “What about it?” “Are you jealous?” I looked at him for a few seconds. Then slowly nodded. “Yeah.” For a few moments, Arga just stayed quiet. Then a smile appeared on his face. Not his usual mocking smile. More like someone who had just gotten the answer he'd been waiting for all along. “Okay.” I was confused. “Okay, what?” “That means I wasn't wrong.” “Wrong about what?” “I thought I was the only one who—” He stopped. “What?” “Never mind.” “Arga.” He started the motorcycle again. “Later.” I was even more curious. “When's later?” “When the time is right.” I huffed. “You really like making me curious.” “That's the point.” “Annoying.” “Yeah.” But this time, I could hear the smile in his voice. And for the first time, I started wondering— when had Arga started feeling the same way?