Lara's Frame

School

My face is more visible because the long bangs that have covered my face are combined with my hair and tied high. My face is polished with French brand powder which may be very expensive. Mama gave a thin color to my lips. Ah really perfect.

"Well, my mom's son is pretty now." Mama looks at me softly.

"So all this time, Kayla hasn't been pretty, Ma?" I pursed my lips, pretending to sulk.

"Not." My mother refused my words. "I mean mama, you're getting pretty."

Plugs...

I hugged my mom. "Kayla is beautiful, 'cause mama is beautiful" I said in between hugs.

Mama took off my arms and looked at me. "We have breakfast, yuk. You're afraid you'll be late." My mom and I walked to the dining room.

I swept a glance around the dining room to look for the figure of a papa who was still not met in the dining chair. "Ma, where's papa?" I asked as I frowned.

"So papa hastily there was a meeting to Jakarta because, so no time to have breakfast with us," explained mama, "Papa tipped sorry same mom to you."

Doesn't matter! The important thing is that you can have breakfast with your mom to make me happy. I can still have breakfast with Papa again. After all, papa worked hard for my happiness and mama.

--o0o---

Sinar Bangsa School, able to make me stunned. How not? In fact, Sinar Bangsa is an elite school that has accreditation from the International Baccalaureate (IB) this is truly an extraordinarily large school. The school parking lot is almost as big as a football field. What about the school and each classroom?

"Please come down, Madam and Miss." Mr. Supri, as your personal driver, opened the door for me and my mother.

Today, my mom took me to school. Mama was afraid, if I would be stranded at a school that was almost twice as big as Polonia Airport, Medan first.

"I say goodbye to go home first, yes, Miss," said Mr. Supri while lowering his body slightly towards the mother.

"Be careful on the road, yeah, Soup." Mama's age is much older than Mr. Supri's. "Yeah, honey, we're in" she continued to me, clasping my right hand.

"Ma, is this Kayla's school?" I was still amazed by the buildings in this school. "That's great, Ma," I continued like a villager who had just entered the city.

Mama just chuckled at my village-like demeanor and answered my question with a small nod. "Hopefully you like school here."

Not like anymore. I may even fall in love with this school. Who wouldn't want to go to school here?

I estimate, of course, the school money spent by mom and dad every month for me is not small. It could be, SPP money in Sinar Bangsa is similar to the price of gold bars weighing three salts. - if one kilogram most.

The road from the parking lot to the principal room only takes 5 minutes. Perhaps, this was also the reason my mother woke me up this early in the morning.

How far is it to the cafeteria? I wouldn't be able to go to my canteen if it was too far away. You see, when full in the cafeteria, back to class will be hungry again. Because the power has been used up to walk.

"Good morning, Mrs Ferrour," said the bald-headed and scuffed fathers, if exposed to the sun it would sparkle like a lamp. Have a short and fat body. - a very ugly oath guys "This is the son of the mistress?"

"August, sir. Yes, this is my son" my mother replied, "Honey, this is your principal" she told me.

Whats?

The fat guy I told you was ugly turned out to be the principal here. I really laughed in my heart.

"Let's be ugly like this, I've been the principal here" he said, feeling pretentious that I had just said it was ugly. By the way, I just said it was ugly. But, where did he know? He can read people's minds, right?

I grinned towards the bald man who claimed to be the principal, and my breath was stuck in the throat. "I mean father?"

He chuckled, "It's okay. Usually the new students always think I'm ugly. Maybe not including you."

Thank God that the principal thought I didn't think he was ugly.

"Oh yeah, Kayla. Name of Bolet. But, you don't call Mr. Bald Scuff, yes. Usually the children call the father. The name of the father so in brief that not the same generation that is a little brash. Hope you're not in it, yeah." Mr. Bolet, tell me in detail about his name. There's a funny thing too, why could it happen that the name of Mr. Bolet can be made an extension like that.

"Mom Arnita." called Mr. Bolet to the beautiful woman who was standing not far from us, "Please get this new student into mother's class, yes."

"Good, sir."

"Kayla, that's your homeroom teacher" said Mr. Bolet as principal. "The lady can go home. Kayla is safe here" she told Mama.

"Titip Kayla, yes, sir." Mama spoke to Mr. Bolet, after which she looked at me, "You don't mess around at school. Learning the right so as to be the successor of a nation that can boast and scent the country," said Mama Long who only replied with a smile and nod. Mom finally left the school.

"Corn, Kayla. Come with me" said Miss Arnita. He walked down the school corridor and I followed him from behind.

Along the way, I listened to a lot of commotion in class because some of the teachers had not yet entered the classroom.

--oOo----

When I arrived in class, I was amazed

Crazy one! What classroom is my room? So big.

"For children. This time we have a new student" said Miss Arnita as my homeroom teacher. I was in class IX-1. I don't know why mom and dad put me in a class where the majority of students are geniuses. They don't know what? If I had just lost my memory. "Kayla, introduce your name in front of your friends."

"Hmmm...." I cleared my throat, gathering my voice that was starting to crackle. "Meet me, my name is Kayla Amanda Ferrour" I said softly as I was feeling very nervous. My voice was somehow heard, not the same as the other students.

The whole class was boisterous, listening to my name. Some were propping up wide - alas in flies - some were glaring. - alas running his eyeballs - Why are they all like this?

"Ferrour?" repeat male students who sit in the corner of the class.

It was possible that he had misheard, or that his hearing was less clear from sitting in the corner, hence the man asked again.

"Yes." Yeah." I nodded sumringah.

"Ferrour?"

"Is he really the Ferrour family?"

"What is a famous rich family?"

What's the matter? Why does everyone feel like they are meeting a world leader?

"Are you really Ferrour's descendant?" asked the short-haired girl - fitting over the right shoulder - who was sitting in front of me standing up.

"Yes. Why why?" I scrunched my brows, revealing a face that understood nothing.

"You don't know?"

I shook my head and lifted both my shoulders. I really don't understand them all.

"Kids, Kayla has amnesia." Ms. Arnita finally spoke up as the class situation grew boisterous.

"Ooo...," said the whole class with his compact, like a choir group that ensures the tone. "Just talk."

"Mother please help you to teach Kayla, yes," said Ms Arnita, who received a nod of agreement from the students. "Kayla, you sit next to Nacha, yes," he continued, pointing out the empty stool that was in front of and next to the girl who asked; I was a descendant of Ferrour.

"So you meant my mama" said the girl beside me. I frowned, not understanding what that meant. "My name is Nanda Chaya." The girl who claimed to be Nanda - but Ms. Arnita said her name was Nacha - stretched out her arms at me. "I'm Doctor Fanny's son."

Oho! Doctor Fanny must have told my daughter about me.

"Greetings, yes. I hope we can be friends." I returned the response.

"Yes." Yeah."