The Last Port of Sang Bad Boy

CHAPTER 5

Reza and Fikri who were secretly peeking from afar, instantly approached when they saw Ayleen and Ibra fighting. Although they could not hear clearly what came out of their lips, but the gestures and look of the face, it was predictable if at this time, they were fighting, or rather, they were fighting, Ayleen looked angry at Ibra.

"Let me catch the wind" Ibra was about to take over from Ayleen but the girl glared at him instead. Making the hand that was about to hold the handlebar switched to scratching the head. The girl he thought was gentle, it turned out to be fierce as well.

Ayleen continued to guide the bike, but his steps were blocked by Fikri and Reza.

"Get aside," Ayleen snapped.

Ibra, who was not yet desperate, approached Ayleen again. "Let me catch the wind, you just wait here."

"Not to be pretentious," Ayleen snapped.

"Are we fighting?" Fikri looked at Ibra and Ayleen alternately.

"There was a tyre motor Ayleen. Try to find out who did it. Don't-don't the kunyuk that was in the cafeteria" said Ibra.

"Not to slander people" cynical Ayleen. "That's what's driving, use throwing mistakes at others."

Fikri and Reza looked at each other with a knotty smile. Not expecting if the way they took instead of making Ayleen want to be escorted home Ibra, but even fight. Yeah, they're the culprits. The idea that Fikri thought could make Ayleen want to be driven home, even become a disaster.

"Get aside, I want to pass." Ayleen was about to advance his bike but was held in front by Reza.

"Let me catch the wind" said Reza.

Ayleen let out a rough breath, staring at the three of them one by one with an annoyed look.

"Actually, I'm the same Reza who crates your motorcycle tires," said Fikri while smiling absurdly while scratching his head.

"Fuck you guys." Ibra took off her backpack, using it to hit Fikri and Reza. The brain behind the alleged events he.

"It's true" said Ayleen growled. "Brothers did it."

"No-no," cut Reza while shaking her head.

"So what have I said, right?" geram Ayleen's.

"I don't mean Ibra told you, Suer. It's our initiative so you can take Ibra home."

Ayleen looked at Ibra, searching for the truth in the man's eyes.

"Still not believing?" ask Ibra.

"I go home first," Ayleen did not want to fuss over this anymore, mending away. But just a few steps, Ibra again held the bike.

"Let me lead to the wind." Just as Ayleen was about to refuse, Ibra spoke again. "Take it as a responsibility for what my friend did."

Finally Ayleen agreed, he let Ibra lead his motorbike to the place of charging wind, while he walked behind the man. When they arrived at the wind filling site near the campus, the place was closed. It still has to lead the bike even further. Seeing the sugar cane ice seller on the side of the road, Ibra invited Ayleen to stop for a while to refresh his throat and rest.

They were sitting in plastic chairs provided by ice sellers. Sucking sugar cane ice in plastic, whose freshness directly touches the throat. Right now, the sun is blazing.

"Why do I like that?" ayleen asked as Ibra's gaze locked onto him. It was fortunate that he was not sprained by the straw because of that bright glare.

Ayleen rolled both his eyes panted. She is not the type of cabean girl who is directly baper just because she is said to be beautiful. "Well how many girls do you adore beautiful?"

Ibra clasped her fingers to count. Open the fingers one by one to 5 fingers. But a moment later, he again bent his finger leaving only 2 fingers.

"Two" replied Ibra. "You want to know, who was the first woman I praised as beautiful?"

"No," said Ayleen quickly. Sipping sugar cane ice to leave only half the plastic.

"Ck, fear of jealousy?"

"No need to ge er deh," said Ayleen while twisting his eyes.

"I am not ge er, but you have jealous writings." Said Ibra while pointing at Ayleen's forehead, the girl immediately touched her forehead. But when he realized it was impossible, he immediately lowered his hand back. Too late, Ibra laughed at him. "The first woman I praised as beautiful was my mother."

Ayleen felt the look on Ibra's face immediately changed when he mentioned the word mother. There was sadness in both of his senses.

"Is she very pretty?" ask Ayleen.

"Let me introduce you to my mother." Ibra smiled, although the gurat of sadness was still clearly visible on her face.

For a moment, both of them were silent. We were both busy thinking about the next topic. Ibra who usually talk a lot when with the joker's son, suddenly died lice in front of Ayleen. Likewise with Ayleen, he who had never been close to men, felt awkward together like this.

"Why are you on a motorcycle? As far as I know, Mezra cafe has many branches. I guess if it's just for a car, it's not hard for your dad."

"I'd rather ride a bike." Ayleen stared at his million-strong matic motorbike. Sweet seventheen from my dad. "Say Mama, I look a lot like Dad. Starting from our talents, likes, traits, and definitely, our faces."

"Including talent to be a barista?"

"Hem, that too. I was the only girl in my family, but I inherited my father's talent. My brother and sister, they don't like it. They're like Mama."

"You close to your father?"

"Very. True to say, father is the first love of his daughter."

And I wish it could be your last love.

After feeling enough rest, they continue to look for a place to fill the wind. Until they arrive at a tire patch. After Ayleen's motorcycle tire was pumped, Ibra handed the bike to the owner.

"Thank you."

"Can you thank him in any other way?"

Ayleen frowned, "In what way?"

"Are you going to the cafe after this?" Ayleen nodded immediately. "What time is it to go home? Is midnight like that day?"

Ayleen shook his head, "I used to go home at 9. It was late because the main barista was on leave."

"I'll be there."