Mr. Jutek

First Letter, but not a Love Letter

"Assalamualaik." I went straight into the room. Thanks to the ice water from Siti, these cheeks get better.

I took out a P3K box from Mas Andi from my backpack. Uh, wrong. It's from Mas Lutfi. Andi is only an intermediary. How could Mas Andi be as good and as cool as that with me. Who me? Ah, find rempeyek. If rempeyek is good, but if it's so fattened? Make the pain 'he said.'

"Nok, eat first, change clothes first," said my mother when she found out that I had reached home. The soft voice of the one I love so much, more than anything in the world. My mother always treated me like a child. I can't go there and I can't go anywhere.

"Had eaten, ma'am was in the foundation" I replied.

"Hayo take a shower then."

"It has. I left my shirt at the foundation."

I opened the P3K contact. There is a cream for wounds, betadin, bandages, alcohol and a letter with a bluish envelope, accompanied by calligraphy of bismillah, making the eyes very comfortable to look at.

***For my sister, Husna Ainun Huda.

All this time Mas Fi was silent about your relationship. But honestly, this heart is broken. In fact, there were tears dripping as I wrote this, recalling the story from you earlier. I don't know what kept you from telling me about your relationship.

I have known Indra for a long time. She's been my underclassman since Junior High. Dozens of cases he's had. But the school still maintains it, because of a few things. Today, I saw your white chubby cheeks turn red. Want me to throw a fist at your girlfriend. But, if I do. I'm no different than Indra.

Can Husna, my sister, promise me, tell your Mas all this confusion, trouble or whatever?

Hope you promise.

Same thing. When Mas promised your mother and father, and to my father. Will take care of you. Hopefully, Fi can. Take care of this little, spoiled sister.

Greetings from father. Greetings to hear your sweet voice. Say hello to Mom, too.

Oh, ja. After you pour out your heart, Mas Fi is happy when you will end your relationship. Choose according to your heart. Not lustumu. God willing, I will always be there and always be your brother.

Mas Andi asked about your cheeks. Then, I told him everything.

Salutations. May you always be in the protection of Allah.

Muhammad Lutfi Felix***

The first letter I received from Mas Lutfi. After two years we got to know each other and were close. The letter moved me.

***

"Nang, janjiio kaleh sir. Take care of Husna. Think of it'o dekne iki your brother dewe. Dekne wes riding koe, father lan Rizky during ning kono. Gor kui seng iso dilakoke ge reply," said pak Nur, mr. mas Lutfi.

_'Nang(call for boys), promise me you'll take care of Husna. Think of him as your own brother. He's been helping you, Dad and Rizky while there. That's all you can do to return the favor."_

"Geh, Sir. Lutfi promises to take care of Husna and consider Husna a sister."

_"Yes, Sir. Lutfi promised to keep Husna and to take Husna as a sister."_

That promise was made a year and a half ago. When Pak Nur came to Semarang, to visit Lutfi and Rizky. But, because there was an accident, Mr. Nur had to stay several days in Semarang.

Because the bed of the son's foundation was limited and to return to Solo was not possible, I finally brought Mr. Nur to my house and took care of him.

From then on, my family and Mas Lutfi's relationship became close. It's just, the foundation's son doesn't know about it. In fact, I didn't even talk about it with Siti. Hence, they often gossiped about my relationship, Mas Lutfi and Rizky.

I tried to contact Mas Lutfi. But there's no answer.

The huft! Boredom approached my feelings. I opened my facebook account. I write likes on all posts. As a sign, that I like their status or photos.

For readers who love my writing. Don't forget to press like, comment and share yes. Haha.

[Bismillah... Strong]

A status attached with a photo, uploaded by Andi Putra Dharma.

I saw Mas Andi pushing his bike, on a road that was no stranger to me.

"Kualat, sukurin," I murmured with a crisp laugh.

Uh, but wait...

I look more closely. There's a woman figure in the back of Mas Andi's bike. Black hijab with a pink helmet and a gray robe. I enlarged the photo. Eakkk .. turned out to be the angel, Ma'am Rofi.

Argh...

I don't know why I suddenly hate seeing that. What's so special about Rofi? Of the dozens of women who approached, Ms. Rofi was the winner.

Ting .... Tongs ....

One message came in, Mas Lutfi.

Perhaps, Mas Lutfi was my closest man who had never made me cry. He was always there for me, obeyed all I wanted and made me smile.

I immediately replied to the message. I sent you a message with a lightning package. Wuss ....

[Yes, I'm home. There is also a mother.]

I waited for the message. But there's no reply.

He was like that, always disappearing after sending a message. I know, he's busy. It's even very busy. Time to go to college and become one of the administrators of the foundation. To find a boyfriend, he has no time. That's why singles keep. Haha.

Thirty minutes later.

Gts .... Gts .... Gts ....

"Assalamualaikum," said a man whom I knew his voice.

I put on my hijab and ran to open the door.

"Getishalight."

I'm shocked. Seeing Mas Lutfi with Mas Andi. Then, where's Madam Rofi.

"To Husna Ainun Huda." Mas Lutfi gave me a bag of crackles my favorite wheat bread. "Sorry, it can't be long. Want to help Mas Andi because the motorcycle tire leaked in front of the alley there."

"Hlo, nu wi tah," I replied spoiled and looked away.

_"hlo, like that,"

"Never mind a little kid to. Not calling later. Already, it's eaten. Greetings to mom."

"Don't want nu wi." I handed the bread back.

_don't want it like that."_

"Eeehhhh, mbandel?" Mas Lutfi glared at me. Give the bread to me.

"Assalamualaik." I went straight into the house regardless of Mas Lutfi.

I'm upset. He hasn't been here in a long time. Then why do you have to be for a minute. Ah, this is because of Mr. Jutek, nyebelin!

"Buk, there's bread from Mas Fi. This was here at the time to the shop. Say hello too," I said when I saw that my mother had come home.

"Vaalaikumsalam. How come orange's home?"

"Busy said. Super duper is busy with Trulala. Oh ulelala." I went into the room.

Drrt... Drtts

Gawaiku. A message came in.

[Na, sorry I slapped you. I know I was wrong, I'm afraid. I just don't want you to belong to anyone else. You're just mine. Just me. Sorry]

Message from Indra. Makes me so sick.

I ignored the message from the bastard. Yeah, he's a bastard. Because if he's a real man. He wouldn't hurt a woman. Especially slapping.

Drtts... Drtts

Indra called.

I relented. I picked up the phone from the bastard. Solve everything with the word BREAK.

"Darling, how did you reply to my message?" The bastard's voice greeted.

"For you, my girlfriend. Let me say. Can you?"

"Yes, honey."

"We broke up."

"Heh, who are you to dare to kill me? The heart is even sad. You are ...."

I turned off the phone. The sound of him making my ears seem to want to break. I don't care about that shitty scolding from that motherfucker's mouth.

Seriate.