Not Superwomen

Pink

"Hallo, Pink.”

Someone called me that. Crispy. With a smile. How can I refuse it? Then the same smile spread across my lips. I hurriedly pulled back the corner of my lips. From the tail of the eye, I watched him until he was lost at the end of the corridor.

Pffeh. Why is it so hard to resist her smile? Why is her charm so strong? Gripping not only me, but the entire school. He is special, I am in my heart. But I hate him! I don't want to smile for him. So how do you make these two corners of the lips are not interested out? Uh, looks like I should ask the tips to Mbah Google.

“Wah..wah.., I think there are klepek-klepek nih?” That seductive phrase peeped into the ears. Forcing me to twist the body and find out who the owner is. Jehan. I sneered.

“Not so much, ah.’” denied me instantly.

“Yuhuuu... , time anyway? Look, your face is blushing!” Jihan whistled long. Reflexes of the surface of the face. A little hotness ran there. Jihan.

“Udahlah. Aja aja. No one is bothered. After all, the cold war. Peace dong.., amaniiiiii.” Jihan still keeps teasing me.

“Sok know!” I shook my hand and passed away haughtily. Of peace? With Ray? Oh, impossible..!! I breathed a sigh of relief. Jihan didn't follow.

But unfortunately, being separated from Jihan does not mean I am out of trouble. Because in front of me has stood tall a man. To be precise, the God creature I most want to avoid right now. God, please give me another direction. Niente. There were only two options left, either continue to step forward or turn back to class. After thinking for a moment, I took a deep breath. All right, I'll deal with it.

“Hai, Pink,” her greeting welcomes me within half a meter. I melengos. Trying to be indifferent and keep going. My stomach has been singing since. I can't ignore this guy. Distance is getting closer. Then…

“Pink, we have to end all this.” The nervousness that came suddenly, messed up my concentration. As a result, I was unable to keep my distance. At the door, our elbows intersect. I took a few steps back.

“Sori,” said hurry. I'm getting ready to turn. Yet….

“Pink...”

“Don't call me by that name,” I'm not happy. He frowned. Really, that's his best mimic.

“Why? Isn't that your usual call?”

“But I don't want to be called that,” my snort is upset. Why is he so stubborn?

“Why? I like it.” He's still insistent. And it makes me inflamed.

“But I don't! Please, don't call me by that name.”, I mean it. In fact, it might sound a little sharp. The thick-browed guy with a pair of shady eyes like that lake, looked at me deeply. Then nod.

“Good. But with one condition, we must discuss the problem first.” I'm dumbfounded. Yes aampuuun, why is he the one who decides? But I had no choice, except that he would keep calling me by that name.

“Alright..” I gave up very forcedly. It seems that I have to acknowledge the truth that is circulating among the girls in this school. Ray's hard to resist. Look, even I gave up.

We sat in the corner of the canteen, away from the noisy groups in the middle of the room. Their voices buzzed like a bunch of bees circling honey. Occasionally the crackling crackled, jerking the ears. What the hell are they talking about?

Minutes passed in silence. We sat facing the opposite view. I threw my eyes out of the canteen, reaching out to the quiet basketball court. Ray was busy with his thoughts. He tapped on the table agitatedly. Every now and then my tail caught her gaze fixed on my face. Uh, being trapped in a frozen situation like this really sucks. Why hasn't he spoken yet?!

“Kalo no one is talking about, I go.” I stood up and looked at him with a huff. Ray jerks. I caught the nervousness that flashed across his face.

“Oke, sori,” says hurry. “Sit. I was confused where to start. Is, an apology?” he asked carefully while looking at my face. I melengos.

“It looks like it's gone stale.”

“Why? Didn't you say, every human being deserves a second chance?” I'm throwing a look.

“Still remember saying that phrase, right?” He scouted me with a tone implying victory. And I'm not willing!

“I remember. But that doesn't apply to our case. You realize that you have said something that is very demeaning to someone?!” my sergeant.

“I didn't mean that. I'm just pissed off. That's aja. I have no intention at all to demean you.” Ray defended himself.

“But you mocked me with the nickname crossroad girl. Try to ask others, is that sentence not condescending?” Ray sighed and looked at me seriously.

“I have no choice. I don't know your name. And your talk really offended me.”

“But you made other kids follow along!” I insisted while holding back the tears that were about to fall. No, I'm not gonna cry in front of this guy!

Long before he found me, Ray was familiar to my eyes. He was the son of one of the owners of a luxury house on the side of a big road, not far from my house. Every morning he goes to school with his father who drives an expensive European sedan. He came home with a different driver. Two hours later he left with his bag and dressed. Go home again. Before long, out wearing a Muslim dress and a peci. I thought he was going to teach. The next two hours go home, get in the house and don't come out again. That is every day, except Sunday. Because Sunday, the boy's schedule became irregular. Sometimes he plays roller skate on his wide lawn. Or go on a bike to the streets with your friends. Bike's good. Silver colored racing bike with curved handlebar. Quietly, I admired him for pedaling the bike in front of me. He didn't notice me at all. In addition, there are still various other things he did on Sunday. Swim, play badminton with his father or go to parties with the whole family. Well, for the last thing, I often giggled amusedly at the appearance of the suit and tie of butterflies. To me, he looks like a Korean drama actor, one of my favorites.

Then one day, as I was about to cross the road, a man on a bicycle almost hit me. I closed my eyes and screamed hysterically watching the bike slide fiercely towards me. Thankfully nothing happened. Except for the surface of the tire that touches the soft skin of my calf. I opened my eyes and hurriedly ran to the sidewalk. The cyclist was there first. And I recognized him. Rich kid on a cool bike I adore.

“You don't have eyes, huh? The red light is still playing. Free school, but don't know the rules!” I approached him with anger. But the boy glared back at me. His face was red. His friends who arrived recently contacted us.

“Basic, crossroad girl! You are the one who does not know the rules. Cycling use daydreaming all.” I was angry to hear his words.

“You...” Sangking his anger, I'm at a loss for words. There are many words I want to scatter but the only ones that come out are tears. No one has ever called me a crossroad girl. And I swear, I'll never forget that. Never will!

“Udah, ah. Yuk, we're going again. Ngapain also serve girls crossroad.” The boy gestured to his friends through his hands. They paddled their bikes and left me with a big laugh. I growled in anger. And even more angry because after that, the nickname crossroad girl became so attached to me. His friends and all the boys in the area called me that.

“Pink, daydreaming?” A touch at my fingertips made an entire picture of my past, a vaporized scum. Quickly I pull my hand off the table.

“Ngak,” I replied ketus.

“But you didn't hear my words just now, did you?” I looked at him with my lips tightly closed.

“I'm sorry for ever nicknamed you crossroad girl. But, I want to keep calling you Pink. Can?” Ray lowered his voice. I'm shaking.

“Why?” tanyanya.

“That's not my name.”

“But you let Papa call you that. Why can't I?” protest Ray. I turned my face.

“Because feel indebted?” chase Ray. Heart assures.

Yeah, how could I refuse that call to the man who raised me as a child, ever since my father and mother died in an accident in front of Ray's house? I closed my eyes with a heart. It's like everything is back. Father and Mother were covered in blood on the road. Dad's bike is crumpled under the truck's tires. The people who were swarming with full gazes. And the wailing of a little girl, the heartbreaking. The little girl who suddenly felt her world was empty, with no one. Then dark. He fainted, I don't know how long. And when it dawned, the face of a man with a thick mustache with a wide smile was the first to be found. The man who helped me, Mom and Dad.

“Hallo, Pink? You are aware?” That was the first sentence I heard at once the first time I was called Pink. A few days later I found out why the man had attached the name pink. None other than the color of the clothes I was wearing when I fainted and the pink tinge that loomed on my cheek when I came to my senses. The name pink also attached a new identity for me as a foster child dr. Rahmad, Ray's father!

Surprisingly, despite being home, Ray and I rarely say hello. Except in front of his dad. The hatred that I have had since the case at the crossroad, has never gone away. Even until I sat on the bench SMU.

“Pink...”

“I don't want you to call me Pink. That only applies to Papa,”.

“But I like. Do I have to buy you pink clothes, pink dolls, pink shoes and other pink things, and then do you want me to call you that?” Ray is still insistent.

“You think I'm a matre girl, huh?” Ray shook his head strongly.

“Ngak. I didn't say that. I just wanted to call you Pink.”

“But I don't want.”

“Yes, but why? Doesn't everyone need an explanation?”

“I just want to use my name. The name chosen by Mother. I want that name always to stick. That way, I hope they never really get away from me,” I explained with great difficulty. It feels, to swallow even becomes very difficult to do right now. Moreover, holding back tears that constantly dabble in the fertilizer. Defense's collapsed. Call it for a grain of clear water, down the cheek. And I know I've been sobbing.

“This.” Ray thrust out a piece of tissue. I grabbed it and quickly shrank the tears.

“I understand,” he said with a serious mimic. “I want to call you by that name the same as Papa's reason. We want you to rise from the past. Not that it removes that trace altogether. I think, with or without your real name we call you, that name will stick anyway. In reports, diplomas and other important papers. Nothing will be erased. That name is always attached to you, as are your parents. They are always there and live in your heart even though friends call you by any name. I see, right?” I'm speechless. I think what Ray said has a point, too. Unknowingly my smile grew thin. Although it still feels bitter.

“Hei.., you smile. Does that mean I can call you Pink?” I'm nodding. Ray laughed a lot.

...“Pink, my beautiful sister.” she said later. My cheeks are warming. It feels like there's a pink tinge in there. Bell tolling. Hmm, that means this conversation is over. Also our cold war...

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