A Gift for Lala

Three - Day One at Pancasila High School

My heart is pounding. This is my first day at Pancasila High School. With an uncertain feeling, I stepped into the schoolyard. I could see a group of girls talking while laughing. Maybe they are talking about their holiday experience.

I'm trying to find the principal's room. I spread my eyes to every corner of the room, but I haven't found a room that says the principal's office. Do I have to ask? Thatez! Of course I have to ask! I cursed myself. I returned my eyes to my surroundings. However, it seems like everyone is busy with their own business. I'm like an alien in this place. I just turned around all of a sudden... Oops, someone hit me. Emm... Actually I hit him. Hehe...

"Mmmm... Sorry, yeah." I glanced at that guy. Guys. Saucy! But, without looking at me, the guy immediately approached a group of girls who were funnier.

Fuwuuhh... Lala, poor is you.

"Hi..." Someone say hello. I immediately looked towards the voice.

"Please dong, the ball." The guy said, I'm still dumb.

"Hello... Don't be dumb, dong. Ball, please throw." The guy once again made a sound. Now I saw several pairs of male eyes on the field looking at me. I'm getting dead style. I even forgot what that guy was talking about. What did he say, anyway? Oh, my God, I think I'm crying.

Suddenly, someone was near me.

"They're..."

Heh, I looked. The guy smiled friendly. It has a joke face. Then he picked up a basketball that was lying not far from my feet. Now, I just. The guy took the basketball and threw it at a bunch of guys on the court.

"More... The ball."

"That's dong. That's your girl you're told, Am. Don't like dumb-ass, it'll be possessed by genies." Those guys are laughing. Oh my goodness, how shameful I am. I want to run away crying.

"You're all right? I've never seen you" said the man.

I just kept quiet so I didn't know what to say and what to do.

"You're the new kid?"

I nodded weakly.

"I'm A'am. You who?"

"I'm Lala.".

"Yes, La. I want to play basketball. Welcome to Pancasila High School." Before the guy went out of nowhere, I called him.

"Pre..."

"Yes, La?"

"Emmm... Where's the principal's room, huh?" I said shy.

"Yuk. I'm anterin."

I followed A'am's steps until I reached a room that read The Headmaster's Room. Then A'am left me. Fortunately, I did not forget to say thank you. After that I immediately entered the principal's room.

***

Mr. Harfan, the principal of Pancasila High School took me to a class. Mr. Harfan, the carriage is relaxed and authoritative. If I describe it, Mr. Harfan is very similar to Mr. Ridwan Kamil. That's the popular mayor of Bandung.

Mr. Harfan put me in IPA III class. I deg-degan. I'm afraid they won't accept me. Moreover, I am not good at adapting to a new environment.

"For the children!"

"For Paaak......!"

"Here is a new friend from Jakarta..." Not finished Mr. Harfan spoke, the class is back boisterous. I held my breath, ready to hear a curse from one of them. This happened a lot in my class when I had a new kid.

"From Jakarta or from kidul mountain?" The laughter of the entire class exploded hearing the curse. I just bowed. Apparently, everywhere the same, new children are always the months, let alone new children like me.

"It's kids, come on. Back orderly!" Classes are silent.

"Let's know yourself." The headmaster said to me with a friendly smile. These are the moments I fear the most, I always feel groggy when talking in front of this many people. I couldn't even lift my face. I'm mute. The class is back boisterous.

"Shame on you, Ma'am.... Just be quiet." A retelling sounded. My face feels hot. I bit my lips, trying to muster up courage.

"Np... My name is Trifianna Arista. I transferred from Trisakti High School Jakarta, and..."

"Call what, huh? Tri's? Via's? Anna's? The aris? Ristas?" The class is back boisterous. I glanced at the man who exclaimed. It looks ridiculous and surely he's a clown in this class and wait a minute, not that he's A'am, who just sent me to the Principal's room. He turned out, the...

"Damn... Great attention, ma'am, get out of your head, Bo!" Now the voice of the girl in front of him greeted the boy, who was then reciprocated with the laughter of the other children. My face is getting hotter. Back, Chief, calm the whole room.

"I... Usually called... Ng... Lala," I'm back.

"Hello Lala's... Welcome to Semarang!" That silly voice again.

I was finally told to sit next to a girl. I smiled at him before pulling the chair beside him. Beautiful girl, I thought to myself. After I sat down, the Principal immediately walked out of the classroom. And in an instant, the class came back boisterous. I just sat quietly in my chair, while the girl next to me started chatting with some girls sitting near us.

As a new kid, I can't be the center of attention. I don't have the privilege that makes people feel interested in getting me acquainted. And I can't even open up a conversation with the girl beside me. Maybe according to him, I am not the kind of girl who can be invited into his gang even though I am from Jakarta. Right, guys? Usually, Jakarta children are known as slang children, metropolis and so on.

But it seems like I am indeed worthy of being said to be a child from the mountain area... What mountain was that A'am said. I'm trying to remember.

"Hello... Aristas..." That voice... I immediately turned my head and found the look that this morning helped me to the Principal's room at once which was always ridiculous. Geez, this is a lot of people teasing me until the whole class laughed at me. He seems like a good guy and not this silly.

"Lala!" I'm correcting.

"But Arista is cooler, you know." A'am back smirking.

"Know me Ahmad Mufti Amrillah. Call me A'am."

"This morning we met." I cringed in wonder.

"Haha... If the more formal acquaintance is not papa." The man extended his hand to me. Reluctantly, I accepted his hand. In short stories I often write, usually a new child is always the target of cute guys at school. But of course this won't happen to me. Once again I saw this guy smiling silly at me.

Until finally Bu Indah, IPA III homeroom teacher entered.

.

.

.