Crush On You's
Reunite

My eyes are still observing the worksheet in Bening's name. Curse your phone, and text her. Sent, as usual. But there is never a reply. I tried the phone never picked up either.  Back, I read the writing. She writes about the painstaking, gentle and patient English teacher. Always loved and an inspiration to his students. Did he write about me? Is there a figure of me in this writing? My mind has drifted too far.

This morning Amir visited my place. The goal is to tell her about her relationship with Ratna. Since six o'clock it's been chirping with romance. That is, people who are kasmaran. They are increasingly becoming increasingly intensive as a byword on Campus. Ah, I don't really care. Ratna has completed the final task. That means she's not a student anymore, and this must be very much Amir waiting. The sheets I put in the bag. Hurry out and go to the campus.

Intentionally, I sat in the back seat. Their voices were held back until they were hard to hear. For those who speak loudly, certainly do not experience difficulties.  Several aspects of the assessment are already on the table, this is the first time teaching speaking 1 with a light theme for review. Themes “Jember at Glance.” They just need to present in front of the class. This is the eighth meeting. One by one I called out their names to come forward.

“I think enough, see you,” I said end the lesson and leave class.

“Mister!” yelled someone from behind.

I stopped the step.

Girl in yellow. Long wavy hair tied back. Red flops wrapped neatly.  Her face was plain and sweet. Smiling friendly towards me.

“How to pronounce some vocabulary correctly and precisely?” tanyakanya.

“Practice makes perfect.”

“I mean, is there any special science to learn it?”

“There, the Course “Pronounce Practice.”

The girl nodded in understanding. Staring at me briefly. I wrote the lyrics to the book he brought, it was named “Lintang Aruna.” That must be his name. First semester student, still spirit. Thirsty science, interested in new things. Fresh and radiant. Like a flower in the morning, stare at the sunlight for benefits. Until it grows into something meaningful.

After washing the face. I stared at the firm and stiff face. Clean. As this face was created by God without flaw. I took off my glasses and started cleaning them. Cklek! The sound of faucets lit up. The sound of water coming out gurgling. A few minutes later it stopped. As I rushed out of the toilet. The faucet is on again. I don't give a shit. After all, it's daytime and the toilet is quiet. Who is playing with the faucet?

Step into the parking lot, start the motor and rush to the next teaching place. How's my flower doing there? Has dimmed? Or now it is blushing and ready to be approached.

A group of students confronted. My steps had to stop when I was about to enter the classroom. They asked for signatures, related to yesterday's assignment.

“An existing signature already has a name,” said one of a group of female students.

“Punyaku, too, yes!” Another lawful

“Punyaku, first!” Another one's right again. These girls are very noisy and impatient. Just play pull. They're really troublesome. Ask for a clustered signature like this. It was so exhausting, I sat in front of the class and looked around.

A cold glance from a distance. With a grim face almost sad. Then he looked down and didn't care anymore. I don't know, I don't understand why he is? Until these troublesome girls leave. Bening hasn't greeted me with a smile yet. In class, his face was flat.

I leaned my back on the chair. Think hard, to find what makes it so cold as it is now. It can't be just because of a stupid handkerchief yesterday. His hands were also fine, even he wrote as usual. At five o'clock in the afternoon, the bell rang. He put his books in, then raised his head. At that moment our views met. He bowed slightly as he passed in front of my desk.

“Come,” I said suddenly.

He approached and stopped in front of the table. His face is still flat.

“There are many mistakes in this writing,” I said slowly. “You've had the final semester but still can't write exactly.”

His eyes looked at the writing carefully. His hands are looking for a pen. Then give it to me. “Please scribble the wrong part.”

There's no mistake. I just used the opportunity to get attention.

“I like this part,” I said half whispered. At the same time underlining the sentence ‘The best teacher teachers from heart, not from book.’’ Like that's the word. Unostentatious.

A faint smile rises. My eyes beckoned that this conversation should end soon. A few pairs of eyes noticed, some were whispering and staring cynically.

“Please, bring this paper to my room,” I said stand up to take the bag. Then out of class. At least I don't care about the strange looks of the other students.

Steady walking behind me. According and no voice. I heard someone ask him to talk. Like Iskan's voice. No, I can't look. Just sharpen the ears.

“This is your phone! Do not dip into water, it is difficult to get it. Lots of calls coming in. No I picked up, there are some messages too.”

“And you read that message?” ask Bening. “How much has it been?”

“Yes, I read it. No need to pay just relax.”

“Pasti sms kids les. Thank you, yes. I've betulin my phone. Free anyway.”

Iskan walked ahead of me. Bend over and glance at. Without greeting. He was quick and rushed down the stairs.

I keep thinking about that sms. Yeah, I'm the one who always texted Bening. The rumble inside the chest, getting louder. It's very disturbing. Communication via cell phone is no longer secure. All this time I was not paying attention to the little things. I ripped a small piece of paper and wrote something and gave it to her.

Again he just nodded slowly, then went into the lecturer's room to put down some sheets of assignments.

Soon I left him, having to teach at an English course. Stop by my photocopier for a second. Check some things, no problems or damage. Everything smoothly. The phone vibrated, incoming messages from Miss Azizah. Junior High School children ask for early entry to class. Timetables of teaching in skinny places are getting denser days including additional hours of teaching employee classes.  

Ting! A notification from the laptop. Kulirik. Notifications in messenger column. My hands are still brewing coffee. After drinking a little, I faced the flat screen. My smile expanded and started chatting on facebook, it seemed safe. Ten minutes to class. There's still time.

Clear : Smsnya I have not read.

PW: No need to read, your phone will be damaged again. Still on campus?

Clear : Yes.

PW: So why? Is his face so sour?

Clear: Mister is now a lot of fans.

PW: Risk.

Clear: It is! ah already.

Forced to hold an amused laugh. Fucking kid. Looks like he was distracted when I was surrounded by the noisy student earlier.

PW: Jealous? Need attention?

Clear : No.

PW: Tomorrow is time? At three o'clock in the afternoon.

Clear. : Where are you going?

PW: Tomorrow morning, I'll tell you. Yea!

I had to close my laptop and finish my cup of coffee. I'll continue by phone tomorrow. Amusingly. Just a small thing, could make her face sour all afternoon.

Today's employee class is going well. I arrived home at nine o'clock. Darkened. Living room lights out. I see the middle room is still on. Immediately I took the key to the door under the flower pot.  Once inside, I did not immediately replace the lights that went out. It feels sore and time to sleep.

***

Hit, three in the afternoon.

Various snacks such as suwar-suwir, salak coffee and edamame (green soybeans) are easily found here. In addition to the affordable price, the place is also clean. Always crowded, some visitors passing by. Some encourage trolleys or shopping carts. Matahari Supermarket. The village is not far from the cape market.  

Bening nodded and put in the trolley. “There again?”

“Enough,” answered.

He followed my steps to the cashier. Not much to say, according to and always timid when our views meet. From his attitude, it seemed that this place was no match for him. After leaving the cashier, we went to the food court, the third floor. He didn't order food. Just drink mineral water.

“Do you not like the food menu, here?” ask me when my order comes.

She shook her head.

“Why?” ask me once more, while grabbing the tomato sauce in front of me. “You have a recommendation, a good place to eat or you don't normally eat in a place like this.”

“Not so. I don't eat meat or seafood.”

“Vegetarian, herbivore or diet. You can order bread, if you want,” I said while enjoying food.

He smiled and shook his head. “I'm afraid, eat animals that have eyes. Avoid foods that are too salty, sweet, dairy, cheese and gluten. If forced to eat it all, the night must be difficult to sleep.”

“Well, are there any more restrictions?”

“Bawang red and garlic, because the aroma is too pungent and pungent.”

Unfeeling, the food in front of me is over. We left the food court and headed to the second-floor department store, I said at a glance. The look on his face was ordinary, not enthusiastic about shopping or interested in seeing good things. Shopping is not a woman's hobby. Ah yes! I remembered some of Iskan's conversations with the strange-haired man, some time ago. “Bening does not like shopping.” At first I didn't care much about it. Now proven, he does not touch shoes, clothes, bags or other accessories.

Now his steps are stopped at a small stand where the book is located near the escalator. Book stands are holding promos, if ordinary days sometimes this book stand does not exist. Parts of novels, motivational books, children's books and English. It's past. He stood for so long in a pile of hobby books. His hand grabbed the red enveloped book ‘’How to easily play guitar.’’He read it at a glance and then put it back. It seemed, he had no money to buy it or perhaps was being frugal.

“It's done?” ask suddenly.

A faint smile rose along with a nod. Clear is truly unique. Not at all troublesome or noisy. This time, I did not touch or hold her hand. So far he's been very calm. We went down to the first floor. Again he stood and stayed for a while at the watch accessories booth, right in front of the shiny silver watch display case, the chain resembled a bracelet. Then his eyes turned on the old-fashioned, faded-tinted brown watch he was wearing.

I'm throttling.

“You like that watch?” I just stood beside him.

“No,” the answer shook his head. “The watch in this display case is the same as the watch I wear.”

I put his hand on for a while to make sure. “Sama brand, but different models and places. Yours is already very outdated.”

“In old fashioned, this watch belongs to my mother,” he replied. Then he casually passed to the exit.

Time moves fast. It's not a date, just a week together. I just entered this shopping center. The streets are crowded with motorists. Street lights are on. We sat on the terrace not far from the exit. Clear out a medium size plastic bag from inside the bag. It contained origami paper sheets and pens. Then write something and fold it into a bird-shaped pattern. After that, save it again. One deep breath, then his head looked up.

“Weird base! Waste of time.”

“Later if the number has reached 108, all the papers must be burned. Then his ashes were thrown into the sea,” he said looking at me for a moment.

“Why are you doing this? And what's with the number 108?”

“Two months ago my birthday. Suddenly get this idea by writing down feelings. I feel relieved,” he said. “Some of the sources I have read, 108 means 36 times and feelings of the past, 36 times and feelings of the present and 36 times and feelings of the future. 36+36+36 \= 108.”

“You must have written my name on that paper,” I said threateningly.  “Awas only!”

Bening smiled and gave the plastic bag containing origami earlier. “Please read, after that form again the pattern.”

My hand started to open one of the red papers. Complicated. Impatiently. The srek! The paper was torn in two. Write “I want to be with him.” Split into two.

Bening let out a long sigh then took out a blank red paper and a pen. “Write again, fold then form the same pattern.”

“Complicated,” said I gave the paper. “No! I can't form the same pattern.”

The red paper. Then Bening began to fold it slowly. Is he disappointed? Or is he tired? That's the question I had in mind. The tearing of the paper was intentional. In addition to being curious about his feelings, I also want to write something between the folds of paper that will be burned and then become ashes and fly with the wind, fused with sea water. “Hopefully the universe can unite us,” I whispered in my heart when writing something.

“You didn't teach me to fold the pattern?”

“How dare I teach you,” he said. “Folding this easy job.”

“Is it because I'm your teacher?” my many. “Not, you are also a teacher.”

Clear did not answer and stored the paper into the bag.

I was confused by the direction of this conversation. Because my brain is trying to compose a sentence to melt his heart. The small embroider. The student was naive and who managed to make me fret all day while with her. Wretch! I'm asking a weird question. I'm sure he won't teach me.

Cell phone's ringing. Incoming call from Amir. Immediately I press the push button.

“Why be killed?” ask Bening.

“Amir call. I'll call.” later

“Mister Amir? So remember Mbak Ratna,” he smiled.

“I'm not sure if Ratna's serious. The war is sometimes fickle,” I said. “That's how, if the relationship starts from the eyes down to the heart. They even rush.”

“Hurry or slowly can not make the size. After all, God determined the scenario.”

“A story between Lecturer and Student ..” I said slowly. My throat feels choked. I really want to pull that speech. But it's too late.

Bening. His forehead wrinkled. As if trying to ask for an explanation related to my words earlier. Demand continued hanging sentences. I really can't go on with that sentence. Like being slapped with your own words. Embarrassing. Amir was so confident about proclaiming his relationship. While me? My feelings for Bening I still consider.

A coward!

My heart is not as big as my feelings for her. Some of the things that have always been a matter of consideration so far are, do I deserve to have very deep feelings for him? Really, I like it? Either pity or obsession. Yeah, those questions are so distracting. Unaware of what I've done.

“Mister, please release my hand,” he said.

I flinched from the daydream, I immediately let go of her hand. I didn't realize that I was holding her hand tightly. Until her wrists flushed. My eyes were also on him without blinking. I quickly threw a glance around.

“I don't know when, how and what the trigger is? I've been watching you for a long time, not as an ordinary girl. You're different. And I love you, Ning,” I said smoothly without any obstacles.

“No, Not Now .. give me time.”

“I'm willing to tell your father about this.”

“No,” he said looking at me seriously. “Please, Mister don't bother yourself, just because I.”

I nodded in understanding. Yes, it's too soon but I've said it, and I won't rush it. He just needs time, not now that means later. He could be ashamed at the moment. That day will come. Where he really realized all this.

This statement is true. I never mess with a girl or a girl. My idea of expressing feelings was not romantic like drama, fairy tales or other love stories. But it leads to more courage. I've considered it before and I emphasize that I'm always ready to see my father or his guardian at any time. Without doubt. Relief has eased the nerve muscles that recently made restless.