Thomas: The Charismatic Seducer

“Thomas, please take Nayla to school.” Mom’s voice from the kitchen pulled me out of my sleep. I immediately sat up and glanced at the wall clock. 6:30 a.m. “Thomaaaasss!” Mom called again, this time louder and much harder to ignore. “Yeah, Mom. Give me a minute.” I grabbed the T-shirt lying beside my bed, pulled it on, and walked out of my room. As soon as I opened the door, Mom turned toward me. “Thomas, can you take Nayla to school? My leg is still hurting after I slipped in the bathroom yesterday.” I simply nodded and headed toward the sink to wash my face. Nayla was my niece. Usually, Mom took her to school, but today the job had fallen to me. Taking Nayla to school was one of those chores I found painfully boring, mostly because it meant getting up early. She had to be at school by seven. Still, I couldn’t exactly refuse. Nayla’s father—my sister’s husband—had been one of the biggest supporters of the coffee shop I’d been building over the past year. “Come on, Uncle. Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.” I turned around and found my niece already standing behind me, completely ready, her schoolbag hanging from her shoulders and her lunch packed. “Already ready, huh?” I smiled. “You look beautiful.” I leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “What happens if you’re late? Why are you in such a hurry?” Nayla looked at me seriously. “I’d be embarrassed, Uncle. Imagine me walking into class alone while everyone else is already sitting at their desks, praying. I don’t want the whole class staring at me.” She sounded genuinely concerned. “Come on, Uncle. Hurry up.” Her voice had taken on an impatient edge. Mom and I exchanged smiles at her adorable little attitude. “All right, let’s go. Your uncle is ready.” Nayla walked over to Mom and took her hand. “I’m going to school now, Grandma.” “All right, sweetheart. Study hard, okay? And don’t be naughty.” Mom kissed her cheek. I stepped forward and took Mom’s hand as well. “I’m heading out, Mom.” She nodded. “Be careful. Don’t ride too fast.” I gave her a thumbs-up. I grabbed my helmet from the rack and slipped on my jacket to keep the chilly morning air of Payakumbuh from biting into my skin. Then I started my red CBR 125. “Come on. Let’s go.” I lifted Nayla onto the motorcycle and settled her in front of me. She wasn’t tall enough to need to sit in the back yet. Besides, she would have complained if I made her sit there. She hated having to lean forward just to reach the footrests. I rode my CBR through the increasingly busy streets at a moderate speed. The traffic was already picking up, so I couldn’t ride as fast as I normally would. Fortunately, Nayla’s school wasn’t far away. Ten minutes later, we arrived. “We’re here, my little queen. And we’re not late, right?” I helped Nayla down from the motorcycle. “Thanks, Uncle.” She shook my hand quickly before disappearing into the crowd of schoolchildren. That morning, there were plenty of parents dropping their children off at school. But one Middle-aged woman immediately caught my attention. She was wearing a fitted long dress that followed the natural curves of her body, revealing just enough of her feminine silhouette without showing any skin. Her hijab was modest, framing a beautiful face that seemed strangely out of place amid the morning chaos. My eyes lingered longer than they should have. There was something captivating about the way she moved. Every step made the fabric of her dress shift gently against her figure, accentuating the graceful curves of her waist and hips. I quickly looked away. Or at least, I tried to. She was walking beside her young son, holding his hand as they approached the school gate. The boy stopped before entering, turned toward his mother, and shook her hand. She bent slightly to say goodbye. The movement made the curves of her figure even more noticeable beneath the fitted fabric. I swallowed. For a moment, I forgot about the motorcycle, the noisy street, and even the fact that I was supposed to be heading home. Then she looked up. Straight at me. Our eyes met. And she smiled. Her lips, coated with red lipstick, curved into a warm, almost playful smile. I returned it with a faint smile of my own. She held my gaze for another second before turning away and walking toward her car. I watched her disappear into the crowd. Only then did I realize that I’d been standing there far longer than I should have. I shook my head and let out a quiet breath. “Get a grip, Thomas.” But even as I turned toward my motorcycle, I couldn’t stop thinking about that smile. I glanced at my watch. It was only seven in the morning. I didn’t feel like going home. There was nothing waiting for me there except Mom, and I wasn’t ready to spend the rest of my morning sitting around the house. Maybe I should grab some breakfast. I revved up my CBR 125 and headed toward the main road in Payakumbuh. It was one of the city’s busiest routes, connecting West Sumatra with the neighboring provinces. I made my way to a small breakfast stall where my friends usually hung out. As soon as I arrived, I parked my CBR neatly outside. And sure enough, my friends were already there, filling up most of the tables inside. “Hey, Thomas. What happened? You actually woke up early today?” Rudi teased. Rudi had been my friend since junior high school. “Nothing special. I just got assigned the morning shift—had to take my niece to school,” I replied casually. My answer was immediately followed by laughter from everyone at the table. “There was no way Thomas could refuse to take Nayla to school,” Rudi continued, grinning. “Her dad would probably pull all his investment out of Thomas’s coffee shop.” Everyone laughed again. That was just how we were. We teased each other constantly, but somehow, those jokes were exactly what had kept us close all these years, ever since junior high school. “All right, enough talking. I’m starving.” I pointed at my stomach, which had been growling ever since I left Nayla’s school. “Lontong pical, one portion, please.” I called out my order to the woman behind the counter. “That’s it, Thomas? Just lontong pical? What are you having to drink?” Tina, the woman running the stall, called back. “His usual, Kak Tina. Teh talua with palm sugar,” Toni answered before I could say anything. He had been busy sipping his own glass of teh talua. “That works, Kak Tina. Palm sugar, please. And make it quick.” “All right, Thomas.” Tina immediately got to work preparing my breakfast. Meanwhile, my friends and I went back to our usual conversations—talking, arguing, and joking about business, money, and all the dreams that came with being young entrepreneurs. For a while, everything felt ordinary. Just another morning in Payakumbuh. And I had no idea that the woman I’d seen at the school gate only minutes earlier would soon find her way back into my thoughts.