Boyfriend Lies

Acquaintance

"Mami," called me while holding back emotions as soon as the connection was connected. "Why did you send this shirt? Dara, right, ask for the other plain dress, which is the color of ash." The truth is there is no time to say hello because of the wrong clothes sent.

"That's, right, the color of the ashes. Which ashes are you saying?"

"Dress the ashes that have collars with her arms." I repeated the explanation, even though when sending a message was clearly described.

"Oohhhh ...." Mom seemed to understand what I meant. "Don't use that, ah! I'm using the one you sent, yeah."

The response that made me bloodier. How am I supposed to rival Irish if her clothes are like this? In terms of color alone it looks dull, not attractive, especially this shirt is not sleeved. If sexy like this, auto fired from the line of prospective ghosts.

"Mi, this is Dara seriously, you know. Dara wants to shop with her mother, Bagas. The lifetime of this shirt? Isn't that shy? Where does his armpit look anyway." The grumbling continues.

"Lho, why do you look at your armpits? Your armpits aren't clean? Much fur?"

"Mommy, seriously, ah!" my son could no longer be patient.

"Udah, say what mommy said. You wear that shirt, all right. Guaranteed fit. Esther would love that, too."

"Create to like?" I doubt that sedative sentence because my mother has only met him twice. How could one's taste be instantly caught in such a short period of time?

"Udah, you wear it anyway. Beautiful serious. Mami also has the same cosmetic toiletries. Don't forget to dance."

The connection is broken, but the heart still wants to spill the frustration. Really sucks. How can I look beautiful, if the dress suits the taste of these mothers I wear? Any thick bunions remain free.

"God! So good the cake today. From morning till evening there, aja, which makes you upset." I cursed while shuffling hair to irregular.

Forced to accept the situation, a tote bag containing the clothes of my mother's choice I brought to the school toilet. Lucky because there are a few people left who have not returned home. Those who follow extracurriculars are required to stand by until six in the afternoon. If this is the case, I'm sure I can take a shower without a hitch.

Evidently, the sepinya atmosphere makes the washing event completed within five minutes. Mother's choice dress still I wear, although reluctant. Armed with existing cosmetics, I polished the face as best as possible before finally styling simple hair that is broken.

Preparation of the body is complete, it is time to take out the bag and shoes. Hah, for these two I can breathe a sigh of relief. Mommy mixes clothes properly. Simple truth, anyway. Yeah, nevermind. Open a little is no problem. Mami said beautiful, yes, already.

I was stunned as soon as I opened the white bag of mami's choice. There are two foreign objects that are certainly not mine. Spontaneously my breath was held as soon as I lifted the foreign object.

"This is, right, my ATM."

My eyes warmed because I had an understanding mother. Knowing his son did not have a shopping limit, he slipped a debit card. Without notice, immediately slip two pieces anyway. You know, I wouldn't have been so angry.

Not wanting to drown in regret, I hurriedly pulled out the phone, pressed the screen here and there, until I found a message history with my mom. There is one message that has not been read. A message concerning these two foreign bodies.

From : Mommy

Buy what you feel necessary

The instructions don't disappear

I chuckle. The feeling of haru and want to cry also evaporated quickly. Basic, mami! Just-there's. Yes, it's okay, anyway, I'm still happy to be given a limit, even though it's restricted. After reading the message, my phone vibrated again. This one incoming call came from Miss Esther.

"Yes, hello, Mom?" Vigorously, other than that.

"Because it's time to go home, isn't it?"

"Already, Mom. Dara is also ready," I replied while putting the rest of the equipment into the tote bag.

"Well, Dara gercep too, yeah. Is this your mom picking him up at the gate or in front of the class?"

Shucks! If you get picked up in front of the class is too pleasant. Can fail to get plus points later.

"It's okay, Mother. Dara can, really, walk to the gate. I wait there, yeah. This is Dara going to go there."

Instead of getting an approval response, I heard the rarity from the other end. "Well, Dara. I'm in front of class X-A."

Holy hooch! Why did I say try now?

"Hm ... Wait a minute, yeah. Dara's there now."

My call broke up so soon. Quickly I put my phone in, put on my shoes, and look in the mirror one last time. Alright, after feeling myself worthy to enter the row of prospective ghosts, I was ready to run towards Miss Esther.

No need to take a long time, the hallways to class X-A have passed well. He who caught my presence then walked over with a worried face.

"By the way, though, aja. No need to run around like that. What about a slip? Where do you wear high heels."

"No, really. My mother has just arrived too. How's it? Are you ready to go?" ask him this time while holding my hand next to my arm.

"Udah, Mom. Dara just bring this, all right." I showed you a tote bag containing uniforms and make up.

"Where is your bag?" ask him while glancing behind my back.

"Udah was taken by his driver, Mom. It was Dara's shirt."

"That means this shirt is your mom's choice, dong?" Miss Esther pointed at the dress I didn't want to wear.

I haven't left my voice first. Why did Esther ask that? Is it because I'm not worthy, huh?

"Yes, Mom. It's chosen by mom." I replied, in doubt.

However, instead of displaying the look of disappointment he even patted my shoulder excitedly. "Pantesan" said Miss Ester. "It's really pretty."

Praise God. My value in Miss Esther's eyes isn't diminished. If this is the case, I will be confident to meet Irish.

"Come, Son. Let's go to the parking lot. Irish is waiting there?"

Ah, lost another quarter of my grade. Someone met Miss Esther first. I've been waiting in the car anyway. Did I ask you a question about Irish here, huh? Duh, if you ask, what will Miss Esther think? Afraid to say KEPO, but I'm KEPO.

Because of the gala with thoughts, I turned into a quiet figure. Not to ask about Ireland, nor to ask him to speak. My only concern is one, none other than just following in the footsteps of Ms. Ester to the car park.

As Kak Bagas' mother said, there is already a shadow of a girl in there. From behind the tempered car glass, I can still see the beauty of someone named Irish.

Esther's first lady came in, sat in the back seat, then left the door wide open. "Become sit behind me, yeah."

"Ready, ma'am," I said excitedly as I entered and sat down beside him.

The Irish-driven car drove smoothly leaving the school parking lot. He who was made a driver today looks beautiful, even though his face can only be seen from the rearview mirror. This classic bob haircut that is spiked with ash brown looks expensive. The style and choice of accessories are also quite elegant. Irish is not just anyone. One look I'm sure she's a womanpreneur.

Ta-but .. is this really my rival? I mean, Bagas is still a student, Irish also looks like he graduated from college. Ah, maybe the Princess and Riska's prediction is correct. He's not a rival.

"Ah, instead of being quiet like this, mending mom introduce you two. How's it?"

It's a good idea, but I'm not ready to meet him. There are still shakes of fear rivaled, although I know that in terms of age Irish and Kak Bagas is not very suitable.

"Bye, Mom. Irish can't wait to meet Dara."

I muffle dislike with a fluffy smile. He is good at talking, yes, he is. So-sookan want to get acquainted, even though my name has been memorized.

"Okay, I'm starting, yeah." Esther put her hand on my right arm. "Well, the one driving our car today is called Irish. You can call him brother. He was twenty-two years old."

"Oh, Mom. Even leaking age," he said with a laugh.

Esther who heard this laughed. Huh, really, yeah. They are different from me. Hearing that I was only interested in displaying a thin smile.

"It's okay, Rish. 20 Years old is still young. Still pretty, huh!" The first compliment I heard.

"Ah, I can, I can. Irish is ashamed of it."

"Yes, my Irish sister looks really pretty." Whether consciously or not, my mouth eloquently said that.

"Tuh, right, with Dara's opinion. Anyway if leaking in age now, Dara so know what to call you."

"Yes, Dara was also initially confused. Call a name afraid not polite. Uh, good thing you told me she was his age, too. So, Dara immediately called sister." Gradually, I got used to Esther and Irish Mother.

"Duh, yeah, geez. Thanks, yeah, for the compliment, Mom, Dara." His trembling voice could not cover the reddish hue on both cheeks.

"Okay, now we go on. About the Irish, I haven't told Dara yet."

Well, there's other information as it turns out.

"So, Ra. Irish is Bima's girlfriend. Her brother Bagas."

Intermittent, so he's not a brother, nor is Dara's rival. Gosh darn. In vain, dong, I'm overthinking. Where from earlier I was cute and cynical too. Oh my God, I messed up my mind today. Hah, alright! In order to make up for the guilt, I will call him brother. Not anymore Irish, this girl, or him.

***