ABHIMANYU WORLD

Chapter XXXIV: Broken Hearts

The sun was almost landed into the contest when the car we were riding in slowed down through a fairly dense settlement. Houses clustered, crammed into each other leaving no empty space. Trees also refuse to grow on the side of the road. There are only tall towering electric poles with cables hanging, twisting each other.

Soon enter magrib time. The tinge of red tinge was painted in space. When I was a kid, it was a crucial time. The mother with a horror face was waiting in front of the house with a ruffled waist. He was anxious when he saw me coming home to Magrib. According to him, twilight is the time when the genies softly sway. Unfortunately, this doesn't scare me that much. I come home almost every day late.

“What number is his house?” dahlia asked, wailing to the right and left, hoping that not a single house would be missed.

“Number 81. It's still number 60. Looks a bit forward a little bit,” I replied. My eyes swept over every house I passed.

The car drove slowly along the narrow, congested road. The atmosphere began to fade.

Suddenly, a green-painted two-story house caught my attention. The house was somewhat different, with a rather spacious courtyard filled with euphorbia plants, complemented by a towering bottle palm tree.

“This is number 81!” my peek.

Dahlia immediately parked the car on the side of the road, in front of a grocery store not far from the green house. I felt something pounding on my chest. A bit embarrassed to meet Laras, let alone accompanied by Dahlia.

“I just wait here ya?” dahlia's.

“Ikut enter dong. It's not good that I left you alone here. What if someone kidnaps you? Let me know the same Laras!” take me.

With a little laziness, Dahlia also moved from her comfortable position. Soon he followed my steps towards the pretty magnificent boarding house.

On the terrace, I saw a guest chair that was provided to receive guests. Especially male guests. On the chair, a girl with an ayu-looking, sea-blue hood fluttered in the twilight breeze. I know him very well.

Larasati bint Turonggo.

Unfortunately, my feelings suddenly became unpleasant. Barrel is not alone. There was another guest. A thin-moustached man dressed neatly was chatting jokingly with him. The rumbling in my chest was inevitable.

Ah, I'm not the one who Laras is. My inner.

With a shunt, convict-like step towards the gallows, I approached Laras who was not even aware of my whereabouts. Dahlia smiled slightly. He knows I'm jealous.

“Ras ..., ” my sap.

The girl turned her eyes towards me. He immediately felt awkward, hurriedly getting up from the seat.

“Mas Abi? Why not tell me if you want to come here?”

I just smiled bitterly. All the letters in the alphabet suddenly disappeared. No one said a single letter.

“For a while, I'll get Mom's seat. Please sit down first. Oya, meet my cousin. He works in Surabaya, his name is Mas Jono,” Laras introduced to the thin mustachioed man. His head was greeting.

Unfortunately I was lazy. So I just replied with a bitter smile.

“Mbak, his girlfriend Mas Abi huh?” shoot Baras to Dahlia.

Oh My God! This is what I'm worried about ....

“Where Bi? I'm your girlfriend, right?” Dahlia patted me on the shoulder. The wide laughter decorated his countenance.

Dahlia! It could be at a time like this ....

“Bu-no, Race. This is Dahlia, a college friend,” I replied later.

“Even if your boyfriend is okay, Mas. I'm so happy.”

Dahlia smiled as if she had won a lot hearing Laras' words. Let's not say he cheered in his heart. It's totally inhuman.

Basic Dahlia!

Barrel smiled. Immediately he took a large pack of plastic bags from his mother. I can predict, it must be about logistics. The aroma of sambal pecel, meat jerky, and shrimp croup is coming out of the plastic bag.

“Still yes Race,” I said.

“Abiasaja Mas Abi,” Laras then turned to the mustache man,” Mas Abi is a neighbor of one village, Mas Jono. He studied in Surabaya as well,” explained Laras.

“Ooh ..., ” the man called Mas Jono was just a beard.

My gut tells me this guy's not his cousin. I didn't study psychology, but this guy's gesture has spoken that there's more to it than just cousins.

“Ras, I'll go home first. Already want magrib,” I reasoned.

“Cock rush, Mas?” Jono took the vote.

Kulirik Dahlia who almost failed to hold back a smile. I know what he's thinking.

Basic uahid braggart!

“Wah, even though I still want to chat ...," hold Baras.

“Lain times only, Ras.”

After a short pleasantry, I left the green painted house lethargic just as the azan magrib reverberated. The red hues in the sky are melting with the night. The birds go back to the nest. Unfortunately, the beauty of the afternoon means nothing. Even on the way home, I clenched my mouth tightly, no chattering as usual.

“That's patient,” said Dahlia. He seems to understand very well what I feel.

“I'm fine, Dahlia ...”

“So he said regular friend?” dahlia Cibir.

“It's not about Baras kok,” dustaku.

“Well, you keep thinking what can you be so mute? Don't lie to me. The ins and outs of men I know. Obviously you think Laras,” shoot Dahlia.

I just smiled bitterly.

“Lagian, not necessarily Jono is his girlfriend, right? Did you say it was his cousin? How did you become a sensi like that? You are a guy! Missing one growing a thousand,” Dahlia began to eat.

“I'm fine, Dahlia!” my exposition.

“Udah deh, than you bete mikirin Laras, I only eat dinner, all prayers magrib. He said he used to worship at the mosque,” he said.

Oops!

Dahlia's car turned to a restaurant equipped with prayer facilities. As long as I worship, these thoughts cannot be compromised. A big rock like a block in my brain. How did I become like this?

We ate a cream duck that was appetizing. Its savory aroma danced to tempt the stomach. Of course, this duck taste is champion. Proven by the number of visitors who come. Dahlia is famous for having a high taste in food.

Unfortunately, every mouthful feels different in my mouth. The delicious taste of the duck meat with the spice was like stale food in front of me.

“Just if it doesn't run out, we don't go home!” threaten Dahlia's.

Bussyet! It looks like her mother!

I didn't make that threat. Just a little bit of avocado juice with chocolate milk topping on it. It feels right what amorous experts say. That love can change a cat's poo taste brown. Unfortunately, it's the opposite!

Duck rice tastes of cat shit!

“Just leave me, Dahlia. Later I take a taxi,” lamented I was desperate.

“I'm not sure you have the cost of taking a taxi. You're that rich guy, Bi? Come on's. Don't be a tempe-mental guy!”

Dahlia again shakes my spirits at me. I breathed deeply, slowly letting go of the tightness in my chest. I just want to get some sleep tonight.

Not waking up again.

“Yes, now what do you want? You want to kill yourself? Ntar I bought Baygon in Indomaret, you're late until modar, I'll pray that your spirit is calm in nature there!”

I'm still locked tight in my mouth.

“New digitukan already kayak gini. Where is Abi I know smart? Where is Abi who speaks English?”

“Ya already! We'll go home!” quickly kataku.

“OK. We home. Don't think weird. Until the contract of foot wash, brush your teeth, prayer isya and sleep. No need to watch TV!”

Dahlia is back as the mother of volume two!

What Dahlia said has a point. Alright. I'm gonna take a break tonight, listen to Didi Kempot's voice all night, make out restlessly until dawn. I accept this as my fate. Indeed, no one likes me.

Except mom.

***