Florianas
Chapter 17: Yellow Chrysanthemum Flowers

***

Three months passed. Within three months a lot had changed, but some had remained the same. At the school, what looked most different was the quiet ranks of the twelve classrooms, waiting to be filled by the eleventh graders who managed to level up. At home, nothing has changed. Everything just went back to how it was, senormsal before the conflict hit. He made peace with his parents, although it took him a whole month. While Farrell, who was involved in the conflict, has returned as a stranger, as Flo could have worked, inversely with Genta, who is now almost as familiar as Arina to him.

Despite trying so hard to isolate Farrell— as the man had done in front of him, Flo still could not shake the feeling of gasping on his stomach every time he passed or met Farrell. So the best he could do was to get as far away from Farrell— as possible which was not something difficult, as if the two of them had agreed not to contact each other in the smallest matter. For example, when Arina invited her to join Genta and Farrell under the banyan tree in front of her class, she would always refuse, if Genta also forced her, Farrell would leave. Or when he was chatting in the ballet rehearsal studio with Kak Farah and Farrell came to pick him up, he would suddenly pee and escape to the toilet. Or when he saw Farrell's point at the end of the corridor opposite him, he would turn around and delay the intention of going wherever it was. All he did was for his stomach to stop reacting silly.

However, there are always times when all plans do not work. The only option is to accept. Like today. Among the boisterous and noisy crowds, he is caught between a sea of humans jostling to take the final exam number of the semester. Unfortunately, he was surrounded with Farrell by his side. Half-dead man he avoided. And the sensation in his stomach was unkillful, also the heart that beat uncontrollably—had no self-esteem.

Many times he tried to escape, but he was pushed back to his original place. On the Farrell side. His body stiffened when it hit the man's arm. At this point, he chose to stop running away, stay in position.

Flo felt the rumbling of the sounds around her shrink, and the brightest sound that her mouth caught was her own heartbeat. There was a great temptation to look away, seeing if Farrell had experienced something similar with him. But his mind won't allow it. This is war. Why would he want to know about someone who ignored him? Enough heart and stomach that has no self-esteem, his mind must still have consistency.

So he did not flinch, looking straight ahead. Keep yourself standing firm under the push right-left to no longer touch Farrell. Making sweat run down his back.

Finally when he managed to get the exam number, the exit just opened up, intent on ejecting him from the crowd. He wasted no time, immediately turned to leave. His hand was held. When he turned around, he saw his bracelet hanging on someone else's bracelet. There was no need for him to lift his eyes to make sure the owner had a bracelet, because he clearly knew who it belonged to.

Flo jerked her hands tight. Links are unraveling. Dropping dolphin hanger—no, paus—from his emerald green bracelet. But that did not stop him from rushing out of there.

Half-running, Flo's breath hunts as soon as he arrives in his quiet class. All of his friends were still busy in battle for the sake of a piece of exam number.

Flo raised his hand, seeing no more two-dimensional metal replicas of whales hanging from the wrist. I don't want him to feel sad. That was his first friendship bracelet. Despite reminding Farrell, he always reasoned that it contacted not only Farrell but also Genta and Arina. They both have similar bracelets.

"Why so?"

Flo jerks. He dropped his hand while pushing his back when he realized Genta was bowing in front of him with his head tilted.

"No pa-pa," Flo replied, nervous.

The clapper straightened his back, facing Flo in a normal position.

"Would you get the exam number?"

Flo nodded. "You?"

Genta. "Yet. Later if you want to go home. It's still a mess."

"No worries, just a lot of people."

One of the Genta's hands rested on the table surface, while the other hand extended, tidying up Flo's longer bangs. "You're not nervous, you can't be a mess like this."

Flo flees her hand to the face, replacing Genta's hand which makes her rather clumsy. It seemed that Genta understood because he immediately pulled his hand to rest on the table.

Suddenly, as if inspired out of nowhere, Flo asked after a moment of letting silence rule. "Genta, can you ask me something, right?"

"certainly could. What's?"

"M..." Flo hesitated, "why are you so good with me?"

"According to you?" Genta asked back.

"Because we're friends?"

Genta was silent for a moment. Looks worried. But in the end he parroted, "Because we're friends."

Flo smiled with relief. Now he does not need to be haunted by uncomfortable feelings because of all Arina's jokes.

"And because I'm extremly good," added Genta.

"Ria," ledek Flo.

"Not ria, proud."

Then the two laughed at the conversation that was not really funny.

"Get me to the cafeteria, yuk?" bring Genta.

Flo did not immediately answer, worried. The crowd was never her favorite place. He usually always avoids crowds if it is not something that is very important.

"Come, Flo. The canteen is deserted now. Don't refuse my invitation this time. Please..."

Flo is so bad when Genta has begged like that. Moreover, what the man said was true. He always refused Genta's invitation. Starting from the invitation to the cafeteria to the invitation to watch who often approached. He always had a reason to refuse. Starting from he was busy, was not feeling well, did not like the crowd, fatigue, and so on. In fact, it is just an empty reason. He did not want to go alone with Genta, especially if outside the school.

"Yes, deh. Come on!"

Flo shuffled to his feet, following Genta out of the classroom. Passing through the corridors was quiet as all of its usual residents were still busy queuing up the exam numbers.

"'Where are the ballet preparations?" Banquet.

"Currently" said Flo.

"A semester exam is not the showcase?"

"You!" exclaims Genta enthusiastically, making Flo smile. "Can he?"

"Bby dong. I'll give you the ticket."

"Thank you, Flo."

"It's ok. We're friend."

"We're friend" Genta quoted.

Whether the hearing is deceiving or indeed, Flo feels the sound of Genta being shaken.

***

After a full week of testing, Flo is faced with much higher tension. Stand on stage as a cover act. Become the center of attention of hundreds of pairs of eyes.

Flo raised his face, immediately looking around the stands. Then he closed his eyes in the position of who was dancing, waiting for the music to reverberate.

This is what I want most, Flo said. Trying to ease his nervousness.

As soon as the first note sounded, miraculously, Flo's nervousness instantly faded. He moved for sure, following the strains of songs he had trained for the past month. Like possessed. He doesn't care about the audience at all, because this is the time. Her dance. His stage.

When the tiptoes Flo felt flying. In each jump he felt light. As it turned around he felt beautiful.  When there is a time when she feels most beautiful and confident, this is the moment.

Flo ended the performance by bowing, and applause rumbled. He saw everyone standing up appreciating the action. One spectator caught his attention. The same person he had been avoiding and avoiding. For the first time in months, their eyes are rubbed against each other.

A memory under the stars played in Flo's mind. One late night, on dewy grass, as he danced for Farrell. And a speech at another time just came to pass.

"...gue just realized ballet is cool. It's actually cool."

The two looked at each other for a long time, until then the other Flo friends went back to the stage to together pay their last respects to the audience and end the competition. Confetti was poured out, showering those on the stage, giving even more fanfare.

After that Flo and his comrades went down, going backstage. Together they embraced the coach as well, throwing compliments and giving thanks.

Flo releases herself from the crowd, approaching her parents who are waiting by the door with a bouquet of her favorite pink roses. He immediately hugged them. Fun and relief.

"Mama is proud of you. What a beautiful appearance," said Mama, after loosening her arms. He shrank the corners of his wet eyes.

Flo smiled.

"It's cool." Papa raised his two thumbs.

"Thank you, Pa."

The family event did not last long. His mother said she would wait in front with him while he changed clothes. Flo immediately agreed to it as the room grew crowded with family and ballerina friends who wanted to congratulate her.

Flo turns around and her focus catches Farrell's back standing in a corner of the room with Kak Farrah and the middle-aged couple. They seem to dissolve in joy.

"Ngeliatin what?"

Flo was surprised to hear a voice behind him. He turned, finding Genta's friendly smile with a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums outstretched to him.

"A very beautiful appearance," praised Genta, sincere.

"Thank you." Flo receives flowers from Genta. She holds it with the flowers Mama gave her.

"Arina nitip sorry for not being able to come" said Genta. Despite talking to Flo, his eyes looked straight over Flo's head. "Said it was ready but suddenly there was some business. Call you but your number is not active."

"Yes, not pa-pa."

As Genta's focus still hasn't returned to him, Flo turns around, figuring out what's interesting.

Apparently Farrell. No longer showing off his back, but a face that looked back at Genta. The way the two stared at each other was not the same as Flo remembered. There's another one among them today.

"Flo" Genta looked down at Flo, "gue stayed, huh? Want nyamperin Brother Farah."

Flo nodded, to which Genta replied with a smile. He kept staring Flo in the eyes. Longtime. Gentler. Making Flo rowdy.

"Why?" Flo.

Banging Genta. "No pa-pa." Her voice raspy. Then he sighed deeply and said heavily, "Bye." He also stepped away.

***

Poor Genta

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