Passion Script

CHAPTER III

“I envy Vita and Ningsih,” I said to Anisa, my sidekick.

“Same. Unfortunately, we can't.”

I don't know how many times we've talked about the same thing. Surprisingly, we both felt not bored. There are many similarities in both of us. There are also some things that we cannot talk about with other friends as clearly as if we were talking about both. There are some secret points that are really only known by both.

“They are used to dating men who are not liked. As long as the invitation and money are smooth, love will flow by itself,” he said.

I nodded in response to his words. That is true and not just a figment. For the four of us, it was some kind of open secret worth knowing together. We both know the shortcomings and advantages without having to force each other's idealism. And in this group of ours, we ended up drawing, two to two. Me and Anisa, and Vita and Ningsih.

Vita and Ningsih, they can date anyone as long as they are ready to shuttle and money problems smoothly. For them, men who do not dare capital, do not have the right to date. While men who often say matre girls, the same as kere men. Unlike me and Anisa, we do not want to try if we do not like it. For us, the line between likes and dislikes, wants and wants, is very clear. We also do not want to receive money or gifts for fear of being considered debt. Especially if it's only for a while and will disperse. Mending is not necessary. We prefer to stay away from problems and do not bother if we have to be single. It is much better and soothing to the mind than having to establish a relationship in the pretense, especially on the principle of trial and error like a gift drink. Comfortable and happy to have each level for the four of us.

The rest, for example, such as the problem of saying matre girls or cheap girls to Vita and Ningsih, as well as the term ngesok or tasteful girls for me and Anisa, that is just a term for us. As long as the guys that Vita and Ningsih were dating never felt harmed, and Anisa and I did not feel at all detrimental to the guys we rejected, ahhh ... the term is becoming a term. Why should we examine?

“Then, how about your fiancee, Ma'am?” ask Anisa to me.

 

I'm sighing. My heart immediately felt pain. Like I said before, my current self is like being stabbed with two swords at once. One is in the heart, the other is in the heart. Especially if not for not wanting to get married and forced to get engaged to someone I do not like.

If you don't like it, why should you accept it?

That night I was lounging in my room. I refused to go outside because I was thinking about something. Deep down, I myself have not found an answer whether to accept Maulana's offer or reject it. Because I want to dive to any depth, even to the troughs, I have no feelings for him. Even now I have forgotten how his face looks and shapes. So, let alone to give an answer for him next night, or think about how good to have an argument with the fathers, even I myself do not know what to do and how to deal with it later.

While I was still busy with my thoughts and turmoil, I heard the sound of people knocking on the front door of the house and saying greetings. Not just one, but even a few. In fact I also heard the voices of some women who threw comments on each other about my flower plants are quite a lot in front of the house.

I immediately got up from my sleep. My heart instantly surged, while my heart was no less turbulent. I do not know how many times I gulped to expel my surprise, to neutralize my heart that does not want to be regulated, but the results are nil. My throat is getting dry. I wish my guess was wrong, my concern is directionless, but I do know all the voices of the guests in front of the house.

"Where is this going to be put, Mbah?" ask the voice of a woman who is clearly familiar in my hearing. "I put it in the kitchen, huh?"

"Yes, yeah. Just put the table. Kok bothered," said Mamak who accompanied the woman to the kitchen. While the father received the male guests in the living room.

"It's okay, Mbah. Our Wong came also impromptu, not on schedule," the woman continued with a small laugh. "I'm sorry, Mbah, what a surprise. Tomorrow's Friday night, that guy on yasinan, so afraid he can't come. It will disappoint. Instead of coming late, come Saturday night, just mending tonight."

"Oh, yes, yes," said Mamak who seemed confused to respond with what sentence. Just like me who was still in the room, who suddenly felt the whole body stiff because the room temperature suddenly became like a refrigerator.

Shortly after the guests were all fully assembled in the living room and made drinks, Mamak headed to my room and immediately opened my room door without knocking first. Through her narrow old eyes and from her wrinkled face, I caught a lot of taste mixed in it. Others, tangles! My brain shrunk like a snail's.

"What did you tell him yesterday?" attack Mamak with a slow voice, restrained, but firm to me who can only stand like a statue.

"What did you promise Maulana yesterday that she came to a big family now?" reset Mamak.

"I didn't say anything," I said, which is like the person**** was dumb again.

Mama took a long breath. In addition to feeling depressed, he also seemed pity when he saw me just standing like a confused person. Because honestly, I was confused. The rest, I also felt angry. Get angry at yourself, especially Maulana! Wasn't it clear our deal was last night? Come two more days and have to be alone! So, what exactly did he listen to me and he tell his extended family?

"Prepare to meet them. Whatever you want to say, it's up to your decision and your own heart. Mamak couldn't argue with me" said Mamak mingled sadly, then went out of my room and closed the door. Even this time he couldn't look me straight in the face when he told me to make my own decision.

How's my? Of course I'm getting confused! My body feels fluttered with the mental stability that is being tossed around. My heart could finally just scream;

WHAT DO I HAVE TO SAY!