Trapped In Ambiguity

About Devan

"Delloooong." The typical scream of my best friend seemed to disturb my focus. I was working on a math problem that my teacher gave me at this break. I am so lazy to do it at home, because for a Pricilia Adel, at home is just a place to rest and also play from the fatigue of learning in school.

The sound of a punch on my desk made me flinch in shock. "What is lo?" I looked at him as I turned my eyeballs lazily and then looked back at the book before me

"I'm waiting for you in the cafeteria, you know? he said he'd like to eat my food?"

"gw is busy." Short, solid and clear.

The man pulled up the chair in front of me, sat down while facing me, looking at me who was ignoring him instead. "Gw doesn't want to know. Last night called me, confided about this it was, in the love of solutions, the problem was run round then said 'tomorrow I treat you Devann' with pleasure," said the man while putting up a face mimic that is so appropriate, as if he was monologuing. "Come, now pay for my food in the cafeteria." The man pulled my hand forcibly towards the canteen, leaving my book open on the table. His hand was so strong, no matter how hard I fought back, I would definitely keep pulling him all the way to the cafeteria.

The man, his name is Devandra Albert. He was my best friend since childhood, knew when he was in elementary school and somehow still together until this moment. His face is handsome - I admit it. She's Asian-American. His father is American, and his mother is Indonesian. He was born and raised in Jakarta. Although mixed, he is not so good at English not like fluent people called by the word bule.

"Mom, this is the one who's gonna pay for my food." Devan took off his grip and confronted me to the middle-aged mother of the canteen. Her face was already wrinkled but her smile was still sweet.

"How many, ma'am?" pasrah

"Chicken soto 7 thousand, mixed rice 8 thousand, meatballs 10 thousand, iced tea 5 thousand. what else? did you take the fritters?" ask the canteen mother Devan who is busy biting her nails.

"Take it, 7 grand, ma'am," Devan replied.

What the fuck? Why does it have to be this much? In Devan's stomach is a big worm that helps him eat what? I really want to curse right now, but as a girl who is in a public place well I have to endure.

"The total is all 37 grand."

"Seriously, mom?" my eyes widened, shocked.

The cafeteria mother nodded calmly and then received the blue money I had given, but the money wanted me to use to buy the latest book after school.

After receiving the change, I walked away from Devan. The conscious Devan - from his busyness biting his nails - I went and caught up with me with his big strides.

"The food is really good, dellong. Next time buy me again yeah."

Look at him, no guilt at all, no apologies, no thank you, even ask for it again. He doesn't even care about my anger. "See you later, Del," he said but I didn't mind.

It used to be class X, we were classmates but because he managed to become class champion, he was transferred to the class of excellence. Unlike me who ranked 4th and still stay in this class. Even so, he often visited my classes at break time. Devan is humble and so friendly.

To be honest, I was surprised by Devan, he was smart, he was a genius, but his attitude was always emotional and a little bit childish. I've never even seen his rather mature attitude.

The doorbell rang, I was in my classroom, sitting in my chair with my face bent. "Akhh, Devan, it's always an emotion" I grumbled, scribbling the last page of my book, imagining it was Devan's face.

Even so, I am happy to be friends with him. We can exchange ideas and he is always honest and what he is about me. Sometimes, he's there when I need him. She cares for me and in my predicament, she always comes to offer me help with her sincere smile.

"Mother is coming," cried Alfi as he ran towards his seat. If you look around, this Alfi is similar to Mail, Ismail bin Mail, which players upin-ipin it. From the nature, curvature of the face and also its habits. Even so, their hair is different.

Forget about Alfi, I was busy paying close attention to Mother Devi's explanation, answering some of the questions she asked. In this class, I was fairly active and also diligent.ok, this is showing off.

The bell that the students were waiting for had rang, a bell that he said was able to restore the mood of the students or even eliminate the drowsiness of the students then made them start running out through the gate.

"Vann" called me to him who was waiting for me. We always go home together. After all, our house is one way.

"I'll get the bike first." Devan ran towards the parking lot while I waited for him at the school gate. In a few minutes he was in front of me with a gelatic honda motorbike which he said was the legacy of his grandfather, an old motorcycle, even so this bike still works well.

"With money I've abisin, why would you go to a bookstore? just see doang? it is not exciting, later my hands will itch because they want to buy a book when the duinya is not enough," said I with a long satire. "Mending to the library."

"So you're going to the library?"

"No, I'm lazy because of you."

"As for you, let's go up."

Devan rode his motorcycle, defending the city, passing through a familiar path. My house is only 1 km from the school, but due to traffic jams, we took a 30-minute trip. There was actually a long road that was not jammed but today there was a bride, so that road was closed.

"Mother isn't there?" he asked when we had just arrived in front of my house.

"Not there, just go home there," I kicked it out.

"Assalamualaikum, Mother," he cried loudly, ignoring me.

"Greetings waalaikum," faintly the voice sounded from inside the house. Mother opened the door and waved her hand. "Let's go in, Devan."

"Mother is there" he whispered to me with a sneering whisper. Devan immediately parked his motorbike, then shook Mother's hand. I snorted in annoyance, in contrast to Devan who was displaying that cheerful face of his.

Actually I was just having fun with Devan's visit but Devan stopped by my house with one main purpose, feeding.

"What are you cooking today?" ask Devan to the point without further ado.

"Fish the same pepper vegetable kale."

"That's good, Mother." Devan rubbed his hands as if ready to eat. "Bun, look at the Mother's child, his face was bent continuously from earlier." Devan turned to look at me.

"Let's go," replied Mother. Mother does not support her own child even support other people's children. Au ah annoyed, I bent my face even more.

Devan takes the TV remote, considers it as if this is his own house then plucks a cake in a jar made by Mother. We haven't eaten because we're waiting for Dad to come home. My father worked as an employee at one of the major companies in the city.

"Dad.." I shouted at the handsome middle-aged man. I stood up and ran to hug her from the side. He then held me tightly. "Dad, Devan same Mother does not support me. Hicks." I didn't cry, just made those noises.

"Easy-after. You must be hungry, let's eat." Dad put his bag on the chair while still embracing his one and only daughter.

I was happily born in this little family, not to mention Devan's presence in our midst. It's really fun. We laughed happily until the food was gone. The rica-rica made by Mommy is really good to accompany our conversation in the middle of the day.

"I'll go home first, Daddy, Mommy." Devan is getting ready to go home. Just now she was going to shake Mother's hand but I stopped her instead, telling her to wash the dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen.

"Mother?" Devan stared at Mother's bead, asking for mercy

"Mother actually likes it when you help first." Mother laughed a little.

Checkmate, me and dad laughed, Rasain Devan. Devan then went to the kitchen to wash the old dishes.

Poor devan.