Assalamu'Alaikum Love

Warm Smile

Gibran

I exhaled once more before glancing at the watch on my left wrist for the third time. It's 12:50, and that means the girl's almost half an hour late from our original appointment to meet today at 12:30. I had even finished my lunch twenty minutes ago and the contents of my iced tea glass were half left.

“I should have asked for her phone number yesterday.” muttered me while removing the glasses and putting the thing right next to my phone that I had neglected since.

Well, if until 13:00 the girl doesn't show up, then I'll go to the Tempo Press office to meet Reynaldi alone. However, the plan to submit a national seminar proposal to the Tempo office could not be canceled just because the girl did not come.

Exactly at 13:00. And I was just about to get out of my chair when from the entrance of the canteen a girl with a red-brick robe and her trademark wide headscarf walked towards me. I even put back the glasses that I was actually going to wear. There was a feeling of relief as the girl got closer to me before finally with a sigh that the girl sat on the chair in front of me and placed her heavy-looking backpack on the chair beside her.

“Sorry late, sir. I fell asleep earlier.” He said with regret that made me frown. Not surprised because this girl felt so guilty for coming late, but because she felt strange with her voice that sounded nasal. “I actually went up to the faculty office, but said Mr. Fuad the father is in the canteen.” He then managed to catch his breath and pulled out a packet of tissue from his bag. Now I know why this girl's voice sounds so bad.

“You sick?” I asked instead of looking for this girl, who was none other than Faza with the questions of why she could be late for half an hour from our initial appointment.

“No, sir. Only flu.” He answered while wiping the tip of his reddened nose. And for reasons I don't know, Faza looks cute when he has a cold like this.

“Since when did the flu not fall into the disease category, Za?” and this girl just smiled faintly at my rhetorical question while pulling back a piece of tissue from inside the wrapper. “Lunch first?”

“I've had lunch at home, sir.” He answered indifferently while taking out the agenda book from inside his backpack and checking the notes that were somehow about. If the girl sitting in front of me wasn't Faza, what would her reaction be like?

“Enight mas Gilang asked me to follow up to mas Fahri, sir. Founder and chairman of the Surabaya regional pen pals association which will be one of the speakers at the seminar next month. So for example, at three o'clock we have not been able to meet Mr. Reynaldi, we go directly to the pen pals headquarters, sir. I've contacted Fahri mas and an appointment with him at half-four.” Clearly Faza was long while continuing to rub the tip of his nose with a tissue in his left hand while his right hand recorded something on his agenda book. And I, looking at Faza like an old man, noticed the young girl he was after.

“You've taken medicine?” I asked unconsciously so I needed to think why I should ask Faza. It made me frown because I felt that I didn't have to ask that far.

“Already, sir.” But again I asked in my heart if this girl was not Faza, how would she respond to my simple question. “So what about Mr Gibran? As far as I know meeting Mr. Reynaldi is as difficult as meeting the rector.” asked Faza again while throwing his used tissue in the trash can not far from us.

“Can. Later I try to talk to the receptionist to be able to meet Mr. Reynaldi at that time. And after that we can do a follow up with pak Fahri.” I answered casually while wearing glasses and grabbed my jacket and backpack. Still paying attention to some of the things Faza explained about pen pals and also about Muhammad Fahri who subconsciously made me grunt softly several times.

“Mas Fahri, sir. She is only 25 years old, so it feels strange that she is called ‘pak’.” Jeez, this girl even protested because I called that Fahri with the call ‘pak’.

“And I'm only 28 years old, Faza. Why did you call me ‘pak’ instead of ‘mas’?”

You stupid Gibran. Why would I ask such unimportant questions and embarrass myself? Faza even flinched in front of the door of my car which was actually already open just to give me a horrified look. But I didn't lie when I found the girl's face flushed red as I raised one side of my eyebrow and stared at her after managing to control myself.

“Of course because no student calls his lecturer with call ‘mas’ pak.” He replied in a flat tone that kept me glued for a while and looked back at him for almost a full minute.

“Come.”

Again I began to think how it would be if the girl who was now sitting next to me while continuing to wipe the tip of her nose was not Faza Aulia. About what it would be like if I wasn't Faza's lecturer and this girl wasn't my own student.

Will all tastes be easier to convey? Or will we never be found? Again, it all happened for a reason.

* * * * *

Agung Reynaldi, an early forties man who knew me well and we met many times while he was still an assistant editor at Tempo Jakarta. In the past, when Himawan and I often conducted research on mass media, we often met with Mr. Reynaldi in the office of Tempo Jakarta. The meeting that finally made me familiar with him and several times we had lunch together to just discuss about the research that was being done or my writings were successfully published by the newspaper published by Tempo press.

“Gibran Wibisana,”

In the past, Reynaldi and I had promised to meet if one day I visited Surabaya or did research in East Java. That's why Faza and I just had to wait less than fifteen minutes in the lobby of the office until a man with a light blue shirt with his arms rolled up to his elbows came up to us with a face.

Faza even narrowed his eyes as I spoke to the receptionist and asked to be reunited with Agung Reynaldi on behalf of Gibran Wibisana instead of carrying the name of the campus. Made the girl whisper to me as soon as we sat down on the lobby couch and told her I wasn't fair for breaking into the appointment queue with Mr. Reynaldi.

“They must be annoyed half-dead sir if you know we broke into their queue to meet with Mr. Reynaldi.”

“Hemm, how about we just think of this as a kangen meeting between two old friends, Za?” My reply with a tinge of conspiracy that makes the girl even frown a sign she does not understand my words.

“Truely too, I forgot that you know Mr. Agung Reynaldi.” Mumbled Faza who I only responded with a thin smile. Really, I didn't know that having a conversation with Faza Aulia would be this difficult.

“Pak Rey,” Agung Reynaldi. In fact, this man is still as friendly as he was a few years ago. This man even hugged me so warmly before asking me how I was and how I was suddenly in the Tempo Surabaya office.

“Truly typical Reylandi sir who like not getting older. In fact, I think Mr. Rey has only grown younger since two years ago.” almost five minutes me and Mr. Reynaldi talk ngalor ngidul until I forget that I brought with me Faza who has been silent listening to my chat with Mr. Rey. Jesus, I'll apologize to Faza after this.

“And you are still Gibran who likes to brag. Then, when are you going to introduce this beautiful girl to me, young man? Your wife?” I don't know how Faza is reacting at the moment because I'm too happy that Mr. Reynaldi guessed Faza as my wife, not my sister. And, that means Faza Aulia does deserve to be my wife ‘ right?

“Only, sir.” Okay, maybe after coming out of Tempo's office later, Faza will definitely put on a face full of hostility with me. “And I think Mr Rey is familiar with Faza Aulia?”

“Faza Aulia? Oh, my God, that's right. Why can I forget about you? This is not your first time coming to Tempo ‘ right? Sorry, too many people I met until I forgot about you, Faza.” For a moment I was gobsmacked at the way Faza smiled and cupped his hands together in front of his chest as Rey reached out her right hand to shake the girl. But instead of being offended, this man just smiled strangely at me and rolled his left eye at me.

“It's okay, sir. It's natural that busy man Mr. Reynaldi doesn't remember who I am.”

“Actually there are some things that I would like to talk to Mr. Rey about and Faza. You got a minute?”

“Whatever time you need. Let's go to my room.”

Exactly what I was thinking as long as Faza and I were in Rey's room to negotiate sponsorship issues and submit seminar proposals, once we got out of the building, Faza will definitely put on a hostile face at me. The girl had even breathed a few times upset as soon as we walked out of Rey's room and said goodbye to the man. But instead of being offended that my student had been disrespectful to me, I smiled strangely and made Faza even more annoyed.

“Alright, it is with pleasure that Tempo press will be one of the sponsors for the seminar event at your campus.”

I can even remember how Faza reacted when Mr. Rey so easily signed the sponsorship application file that the girl submitted. The man even wrote a nominal number that is not small for him to give as a sponsor fund.

“Hopefully his national seminar event is a success, and a success also for your relationship.”

“Thank you very much, sir.”

And that sentence is what made Faza cringe like a teenager labile to me as soon as we walked out of Reynaldi's room. Actually it's not the words of Mr. Rey that make the girl put a hostile face on me, but it's my words that make Faza annoyed.

It's just that, sometimes there are times when I can suddenly become a young man who is in love. Letting others assume nothing of my relationship with Faza, to see the girl's reaction. I don't know, maybe my feelings are controlled by this young girl.

* * * * *