Oh My Lecturer (Remake )
Chapter 4. DosganSum

Chika POVs

Saturdays... I don't know why he felt so lazy I entered the last class today. While the other students were busy looking for a place on the front bench, I was more interested to hope this class was canceled.

I pray and hope that God can grant my wish that DosGanSum will not be in class today and fill the lesson hours in the next two hours.

Instead of hoping God would grant my do'a, precisely the creature with a height of 180cm and thin eyes with a sharp nose and lips a little thick and pink it has stood gallantly in front of the class.

"Astaghfirullahalazim". I can only be privileged when my whispered heart actually admires God's creature who is standing while occasionally walking to explain the material discussed.

A creature of God who is currently wearing a maroon table that is rolled up to the elbow, the spoiled book on the right hand and the left hand that was inserted into the pocket of black trousers successfully made me recite Istighfar many times when my mind was tempted to enjoy his appearance.

"Yes God. Forgive the heart of your Servant". I muttered a little while trying to focus on the material conveyed by Mr. DosGanSum.

But what power. Heartbeats, thoughts and whispers of my heart betray each other when Mr. Bagas actually slowly walked towards me while explaining the material that was being conveyed.

And I can only grieve fate when He stops right on my right side sitting while continuing to give material verbally.

Groggy?. Yes, it is groggy how Mr. Bagas still stood and walked back and forth while his mouth chattered to give an explanation of the material being discussed.

And I was forced to swallow the saliva a few times when suddenly Mr. Bagas tapped his left knuckle on my desk rhythmically.

"O Lord, what trials have You given to the Servant this time". I can only complain in my heart without being able to concentrate on the material that Mr. Bagas conveyed.

###### Chika POV End ########

Bagaskara Adityawarman Gumilang POV

I smiled slightly as I saw Chika looking pretentious busy writing the material I was conveying.

Her face paled as I approached her sitting position, the closer it drew my attention to pranking my foster sister since childhood.

The sister who I deliberately raised under the pretext of being responsible for the accident that killed both of her parents that I accidentally did.

Yes I was the one who hit the poor family's motorcycle while they were enjoying the afternoon road in an impromptu tourist spot while enjoying the afternoon before night on a bridge connecting several government agency buildings in the county where we live.

On the fateful afternoon when I just got home from college, I, I don't know why the motor sport that I used to drive suddenly lost control and at the same time a car drove fast and forced to push the speed of my motorbike towards the crowd of people who were queuing to buy snacks.

Damn it I can't control the speed of my motor that keeps on being dragged from the right, until the black car drove fast after successfully directing my vehicle to a motorcycle with a husband and wife and a child in pink hijab who was in a sling in the middle of the motorbike they were still riding.

Brakkk....

The accident was not avoidable. Before bouncing and hitting the road asphalt, I had seen the motorbike I accidentally hit was slammed and threw the body of the man in the front seat of the motor hit the shoulder of the road. The woman hugged the little girl's body tightly before she landed on the sepator of the road.

I immediately fell unconscious when I heard the little girl crying and blood pooled around the poor woman's head.

Toward unconsciousness, I still hear some residents screaming to chase the car that grazed me, but like his car was gone amid the chaos that has been done.

And until now I still do not know who deliberately grazed me to make me a suspect in the collision.

However, my family who felt very guilty towards the little boy who had to lose both parents adopted him became my sister and gave Gumilang's name behind his name.

And finally 40 days after the departure of both parents and a few weeks after the departure of my parents, Chika, the little girl who turned out to be a kara was officially my adopted sister.

But because of the guilt and trauma of being close to the little girl, I did not dare to show my nose directly to the little girl.

And from that moment on I didn't live at home with my Oma. I'd rather stay with my mother's family in Uncle Sam's country, until six months ago I decided to go back to my hometown, to meet my little girl.

"What's right is to listen to it". I hit Chika on the shoulder with the book I was holding when I saw my little girl seem to be getting sleepy listening to the material I was conveying.

"Ish Basic DosGanSum". His murmur sounded a little faintly by Ku.

I also frowned when I heard his murmur. But my little girl pretended to be busy listening to the material I delivered back.

##### Bagas POV End #####

Chika stood in front of Bagas when the class had broken up. The little girl was deliberately held Bagas when her lesson time was over.

"Can you explain what your mumbling means?". Bagas asked as he stood before Chika with both arms folded to her chest.

"I have been mumbling a lot sir". Chika answered trying to relax but did not dare to raise her head to look at Bagas.

"Do... Gan... Sums". Spell Bagas half-whispering in Chilka's left ear until Chika suddenly shuddered in horror at Bagas' whisper.

Bagas folded his smile as he looked at Chika's face which instantly gushed red. Whether holding back fear or holding shame, I don't know Bagas.

"It seems like it's your nickname for me. Is that really Chika?". Chika shook her head slowly.

"What, isn't your nickname for me?". Chika nodded then shook her head quickly.

"OKs. That's the nickname you gave me". Chika sighed because Bagas was busy pacing in front of her.

"So if I can figure out what your nickname means to me?". This time Chika ventured to raise her head to look at Bagas who was already standing upright a meter in front of her with both hands inserted into her pants pocket in eacheach side.

Chika appears to scratch the top of her head wrapped in a colored hijab matching her tunic in use to avoid her anxiety at hearing Bagas' question.

"What stands for Dos... Gan... Sum?". Bagas asked after Chika's small smile before explaining her nickname.

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