Liebe Zu Maiza's
30 Points About

All students are in class. I saw the clock curled up in my arm, about 20 minutes late. I knocked on the door and said hello. As always, everyone's eyes in the classroom will be on whoever is standing in front of the class while the lesson is in progress, including the teacher who is teaching. So Mr. Arman turned to me.

After that, all returned to submit to the book in front of each. Ayu and Daniza were already sitting sweetly in place, some seats were still empty including my seat.

"Please enter!" Mr. Arman's orders after answering greetings.

"May I sit down, sir?" ask me to make sure there is no preferential treatment for the late.

"Yes, please," replied Mr. Arman flatly.

Just this time there was a student who was late in Mr. Arman's class. Rumors are circulating, Mr. Arman is very disciplined. Do not accept students who are late, even if they receive a line of heavy tasks are waiting and no waivers are given. Maybe the rumor was wrong, the proof was that Mr. Arman allowed me to enter his class unconditionally.

I sat down next to Ayu. Ayu was serious about doing the task so as to look at me just did not have time. Daniza's extravagant voice did not budge either. His eyes were fixed on the numbers that were arranged in a mess in his book.

I can't wait to tell Daniza and Ayu the beautiful events that just happened, but it seems that the situation and conditions are not possible. Ayu is preoccupied with numbers, her brain is working hard, as well as Daniza. While Mr. Arman's eyes weren't blinking watching us.

I took out the writing and math books from the bag. Put the pandagan on the board. What, the white papa writing was almost full of black ink scratches. dozens of numbers were dancing there. My head is looking at it.

I honestly don't like maths lessons, not because they do not know to count or fail to understand the formulas or teachers who always face serious and expensive smiles but indeed the lessons that have to do with numbers and counting to me are not fun.

The presence of Mr. Arman in the classroom makes the classroom atmosphere like a cemetery, inhabited but quiet, calm but terrible. His bushy mustache was a mess like a savannah making anyone who saw him shudder.

I wrote the assignment Mr. Arman gave me without waiting for another order. Maybe the rumors are true. Mr. Arman did nothing in his seat but made the class-dwellers feel watched.

The numbers scattered on the whiteboard were exhausted after a few minutes had passed. Math lessons are easy though not fun.

I looked at Daniza, she was so confused. So even with Ayu, nothing has come out of her mouth since I sat here, her work is not finished, they both just headed for number ten. Clear crystals are many months in the temple. Not only Ayu and Daniza were like that, Almost all of the students present showed less happy expressions. I was the only one happy this morning.

"Maiza!"

"Yes sir."

"Do you know your mistake this morning?" mr. Arman's face was flat but his question was stressful.

Mr. Arman is known as a teacher who is not fluent with the language of smiles. Perhaps God did not give him the ability to smile from the womb until he was born into this world.

"That-know, sir."

"Then please do all the work on the board. Show your friends that the person who is late in Mr. Arman's class is the one who can solve the problem properly and correctly without being given an example!" straightforward, concise and clear Mr. Arman's sentence but full of warnings.

Hearing Mr. Arman's words, I immediately salivated. Doing all the stuff on the board? What's not wrong, I alone have to solve thirty points of algebra on the board.

"Everything, Sir?" I was trying to find a gap for Mr. Arman to change his mind and want to give a little leniency.

Couple eyeballs friends focus on a woman named Maiza Kartika in class. From their faces there are free ripples because they will not get a turn to do the problem on the board wrote again, there is Maiza the hero who is late. Daniza looked nervous, not she who was asked to do the matter but she who was feeling depressed carried a heavy burden. Daniza wipes the dagger on her forehead with her index finger. Ayu glanced at me even though her head remained lowered.

I know what these two good friends of mine are thinking, 'Our history, you'll be dry standing until the next meeting', like the rumors going around.

Without asking for more offers, I went to the front of my friends, I grabbed the markers located on the left edge of the board and started working on the matter one by one.

I used all the whiteboard parts to solve all the problems. Fortunately, the whiteboard in this school is sophisticated, can be shifted if the other board is full. In about 40 minutes everything is done. My fingers felt stiff and pained after working hard.

"Done, Sir."

Mr. Arman turned to me while correcting the position of his glasses.

"Done?" I asked with a half-believing face. Some of my friends also showed the same expression. Moreover, Ayu and Daniza, they did not expect me to be able to solve math problems quickly because as far as they know I am not interested in the lessons that toy these numbers.

"Yes sir, it's done." I replied steadily.

Mr. Arman got up and approached the blackboard and checked my answer carefully looking for errors. His eyes moved quickly with a mouth twitching. Mr. Arman looked at me who was still standing on the edge of the blackboard still with a half-believing face.

"What about the others?" his eyes were shifted to my friends.

There's no answer. Everyone was silent, looking down, pretending to be busy working on the matter, even though they were stalling for time.

"Is there a similar answer to Maiza?" ask Mr. Arman again. Still no answer.

No one dares, if anyone says wrong it will be asked to rework properly.

If someone who says right must go forward and give a logical explanation of the reason for saying right, then silence is the right way to survive.

"Please sit down Maiza!"

I followed Mr. Arman's orders. I was finally able to sit down, my calf was holding back a sore.

"Please all raise your heads, his attention to the blackboard!" shouted Mr. Arman while banging on the blackboard using a pistar, the typical style of 90s math teacher from Sabang to Merauke.

Some of my friends are still down. Mr. Arman spread his eyes across the classroom. Daniza is apparently still busy with her scratches.

"Please notice, all raise your head. Daniza please look here!" as fast as lightning Daniza raised her head and removed her polpen. Daniza's face, Mr. Arman looked at her fixedly.

From Mr. Arman's tone of speech and the look in his eyes indicated, a judgment would be dropped for Daniza.