Companion To Paris
Lungla

Not long after, the company car appeared. Fikar opened the windshield and looked out.

"Dance!" call him. Paris and Sandra looked.

"Fikar has arrived. You coming?" ask Paris.

"No. The driver of the house came again. You can go home first."

"alright. I'll go home first."

"Yes." Yeah."

"Hello Sandra," said Fikar.

"Hello too." Sandra tried to investigate the contents of the company's car. His eyes widened and his head was cackling. Looking for her brother in the car. Nil. In the car there was only one fikar. Fikar until he looked back, wanting to know what his superior brother saw. "Where's Biema?" sandra asked to know. Paris who had just entered and was sitting in the back seat turned his head for a moment.

"Biema is still busy" replied Fikar.

"If you're busy, why did you come here?" Paris put her backpack on the side.

"Because there's an order to pick up Paris. So I'm obliged to come." Fikar could answer. Easy question.

"So Biema's sister, who is busy ... Bizarrely. You are his assistant. Why is it that when Biema's sister is busy, you can actually get out?" Pursue Sandra further. His eyes widened, when he was sure there was something. Sandra's next question made Paris look up. Then take a longer look towards Sandra and Fikar who are having a dialogue.

"I-I'm just a subordinate, San. You know it. I'm just a company errand boy. Your brother's Jongos." Fikar immediately speed up the tempo of his speech after the beginning of the sentence had faltered. Sandra understood.

"Iwelcome ... What you said is true. But you know what's going on with them?" sandra whispered very softly in the last sentence. Sandra looked at Fikar straight. Forcing the man to confess. Fikar shook his head.

"A-I don't know," Fikar replied in a panic.

"You guys have been talking for a long time?" hick Paris tried to insinuate the two of them. As Sandra turned her head, Paris's countenance was unfriendly. Aside from being a listener, Paris doesn't like Sandra whispering. He who had been worried about Biema's attitude that suddenly disappeared, now had to fret at their whispers.

"No." Sandra straightened her back. Lips smile. Fikar heaved a sigh of relief. Feeling safe from Sandra's point of view thanks to Paris. "I'm done. Please if you want to go home. Naaahh ... house cars have also come," continued Sandra pointed to the car that had just appeared.

"We're going home, Fik," take Paris.

"OK," replied Fikar firmly. He wanted to quickly pass from there to be able to avoid Biema's sister.

"Well. I'm back San," said Paris. "Greetings to your mother and family."

"OKAY. Brother-in-law," said Sandra as she waved her hand sweetly. Make Paris frown quickly. His eyes looked at Sandra in wonder. Yep. The name of brother-in-law never slid from the lips of this girl. Paris doesn't like to hear it. But this time he let it go.

"Go to what apartment to the office first, huh?" ask Paris after the car is away from the school area.

"Office?" tanya Fikar sounded astonished. Paris, who had been down playing her phone, now looked up.

"Oh ...No. gabe. We're heading straight to the apartment. Biema didn't order anything. You going to the office? If so, I'll take you."

"No. It's just ... " Paris blinked his bead a little hard to answer. He busied himself by putting a cell phone in his uniform pocket. Fikar who sat in front waited for Paris' answer, looking through the small rearview on it.

"Biema didn't tell me to take you to the office, but if you need to, I can drop you off." Fikar kindly made an offer. Paris felt helped by the phrase Fikar. He who suddenly had trouble finding the continuation of his own sentence, relieved.

"No. No. gabe. I don't have to." Paris immediately decided not to continue the conversation about this.

"So we go straight home?" ask Fikar.

"Yes. Doesn't Biema like it when I'm hanging around after school? This time he must have told you to always be careful not to run away." Paris sounds so sure.

"No. Biema said nothing about the ban. He told me, 'leave it wherever he wants'. That's." 'so." ." The deg! Somehow the information Fikar shared felt uncomfortable in his ears.  His heart also throbbed pain. Though it was a fortune for him to be able to roam as he pleased without being angered by the man.

"Oh, yeah ...." There was a sense of disappointment tucked into the tone of Parisian speech.

"Where are you going?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Just take me home to the apartment." Paris's voice came down helpless.

"All right."

Fikar also drove a car to Biema's apartment. Hhc ... Paris breathed heavily in the back. Some burdened his mind with stifling things. Paris took out a cell phone from his shirt pocket. Stare at the dark screen of the phone as there is no notification of any kind there. Then he put again, the phone into his pocket. Looking out the window while leaning his head against the glass.

Fikar who was in front apparently noticed the movements of the girl who had the status of his superior wife. Fikar knows he's upset.

"Do you want to go to your parents' house?" tawar Fikar's.

Paris who had been leaning his head on the glass immediately got up and looked ahead. "Did Biema tell me to go to my mother's house?" tanya Paris is excited.

"Oh, no. It's my own initiative."

"O ... I think Biema told you to take me there." Paris lowered her shoulders again. That shoulder had been weak because of the burden, now suddenly upright because of hearing the offer of Fikar, which was presumed to be an order from Biema. But the shoulder was back when it knew that it was only Fikar's own initiative.

It is not expected that at this time he wants an order or ban from the man. Paris awaits. It turns out that there is no prohibition or any advice that Biema usually applies to him. Paris was disappointed. The fikar who read that felt guilty. He who really wants to make Paris excited, even make the girl disappointed.

Paris looked out the window again. Put your head back on the edge of the car glass. Watching all kinds of vehicles on the road. He was not focused on observing every vehicle and building there. This girl stared at the streets with a bright look.

I don't want to go home to the apartment, her mind.

"I'm going to my parents' house" Paris said as she watched the turn towards her apartment. I don't think he wants to go home now. Not sick and lazy like when first occupying an apartment. He just felt useless coming home. Anyway, it's quiet there. Blank. Uninhabited. He doesn't like being alone now.

Fikar who heard that was relieved. "good. I'll take you there." Fikar quickly drove his car. Ideas accepted.