Ingsun: The Light

Ballpoint

True enough, the boy was handsome.

He had thick eyebrows, a broad face that naturally gave him a stern, intimidating look, and a strong jawline that would probably look even better with a light stubble. Still, Nada didn't spend much time admiring him after Mr. Basri positioned him in front of the whiteboard.

So what if he's handsome?

Even someone as good-looking, wealthy, and well-built as Mr. Gading wasn't necessarily a good person.

"Everyone," Mr. Basri announced, "we have a new student transferring from Bandung. His name is Radit. Instead of me introducing him, I'll let him do it himself. Go ahead, Radit."

Another thing Nada instantly disliked about the new boy was his expression.

His face always looked cold. Blunt. Unapproachable. Even when he nodded politely and forced a smile at their homeroom teacher, the impression didn't improve. As he looked around the classroom, his eyes didn't belong to someone eager to make friends.

They looked more like a mixed martial arts fighter sizing up opponents before entering the cage.

"My name is Radit. Full name, Raditya Mahadewa. I studied at State Senior High School 6 Bandung during tenth grade, but I transferred to Solo because my parents were reassigned here. My father is a civil servant."

He forced another brief smile before looking at Mr. Basri.

"That's all, Sir."

"All right. Go ahead and take a seat. We'll begin today's first lesson."

Mr. Basri scanned the classroom for an empty desk.

Their class followed a modern system with only twenty students, so vacant seats weren't hard to find. Many of the boys never had permanent seatmates, while others preferred occupying an entire desk by themselves.

For some reason, Mr. Basri's eyes landed on Nada. Probably because she always sat in the front row.

"Where's Aren today, Nada?"

"She's with Ms. Siwi, Sir. They're at the English debate competition at the Police Academy in Semarang."

"I see," he turned toward Radit. "You can sit there for now."

He pointed at the empty seat beside Nada.

"That's Nada. She's the most diligent student in this class. You two can get acquainted later."

Radit nodded. "Yes, Sir."

He reached Nada's desk so quickly that she barely had time to react.

She didn't mind sharing a desk with a boy. She simply wasn't particularly excited about someone who looked like he'd never learned the meaning of friendly.

His eyes barely paused on her. Forget introducing himself or offering a handshake. He didn't even properly look at her.

After giving her the briefest glance, Radit sat down and immediately began taking out his books and stationery.

He's like something that's been left in a freezer for years.

So much for all those travel brochures claiming Indonesians were famously warm and friendly.

Moments later, Mr. Basri's loud, slightly shrill voice officially began the history lesson. Today's topic was the origins of European imperialism and colonialism. Nada still hadn't opened her textbook to the page where they'd left off.

Instead, she watched Radit rummaging through his backpack.

"What are you looking for?"

Even she wondered why she'd been nice enough to ask first.

"My pen," he frowned. "I can't believe I forgot to pack one."

"It's at the very bottom. Near the MikroMart receipts."

Radit's eyes widened. So did Nada's.

Slowly, the boy reached deeper into his backpack. A moment later, he pulled out... a blue ballpoint pen.

Along with several old MikroMart receipts.

"Holy crap!" he stared at her. "Are you psychic or something?"

Nada swallowed hard. Speechless.

...Wait.

Who had just said that, about the pen?

---

Nada swept her gaze across the mall’s food court.

A hand waved from one of the tables in the middle. She immediately recognized Aren. Her steps quickened.

Aren's caramel skin and bright eyes gave her unmistakably feminine features despite the oversized unisex clothes she always wore.

She was undeniably a tomboy. With her short haircut, people who weren't paying attention often mistook her for a boy and addressed her as bro.

"Where's Ms. Siwi?" Nada asked as she sat down and pulled her phone from her bag.

"She didn't come in. She just dropped me off outside."

"The other debate team members?"

Aren shook her head. "They all went straight home. I promised my parents we'd hang out at the mall afterward."

"They're coming here?"

"They're just getting ready. We've still got time to chill, maybe browse book stores until they arrive," she grinned. "Your mom's coming too, right?"

"Yeah," Nada nodded. "Someone has to pay for the books I'm buying."

Aren laughed.

"Then go order something first. I've already got mine."

Nada glanced at the huge glass of cola float in front of her.

"You're not eating?"

"I'll eat with my parents later. I'm not hungry yet," she shrugged. "But don't let me stop you."

Nada looked around at the rows of food stalls. "I'll just grab a snack."

She stood and headed for a batagor stall proudly advertising itself as Authentic Bandung Batagor.

After ordering a portion, she moved to a fruit juice counter and asked for a glass of fresh orange juice. She was waiting for the cashier to print the receipt when...

A playful slap landed squarely on her shoulder. It startled her so badly she nearly jumped.

“You're not here with your mom, Nada?"

For a split second, Nada wanted to become an MMA fighter. Mr. Gading. Apparently, he was ordering juice too.

"Uh... no, Sir," out of respect for an older person, she forced a polite smile. "I'm here with a friend."

If she'd told the truth, she would bet her life this man would happily wait around until her mother arrived.

"A boyfriend or a girlfriend?"

He looked around immediately.

"A girlfriend. My classmate."

"Oh, I thought you were here with your boyfriend."

Nada laughed politely. "I don't have one."

"Come on, really?" Mr. Gading chuckled. "A pretty girl like you must have plenty of boys chasing after you. You just have to pick the one you like best. Just like your mom did."

Yeah. The one I'd like to throw into a landfill.

Naturally, she kept that thought to herself. The moment the cashier handed over her receipt, Nada seized the opportunity.

"I should get going, Sir."

"Say hi to your mom for me!"

She nodded with another courteous smile. "Sure."

As if.

When she returned to the table carrying a tray with a bowl of batagor and a glass of fresh orange juice, Aren took one look at her face.

"What's wrong? You look like a dragon about to breathe fire."

"I ran into Gading at the juice counter," Nada set the tray down with a little more force than necessary. "He's so annoying. Acting all familiar and patting my shoulder."

Aren shrugged.

"Well, future stepdads are supposed to get along with their future stepdaughters."

Nada glared. "I swear I'll splash you with this juice."

Aren burst out laughing. Before Nada could even touch her food, Aren stole the first piece of batagor.

"So... are he and your mom officially dating now?"

Nada calmed herself by taking a bite of the delicious fish dumpling. It was surprisingly good.

"No idea," she chewed thoughtfully. "But I think so. Their chats are disgustingly sweet. Like a pair of teenagers. I just found out middle-aged people in love can be just as cheesy as middle school kids with puppy crushes."

Aren laughed so hard she nearly choked.

"And he's always the first person to comment whenever your mom posts on her sicial media account."

"Exactly!" Nada sighed. "It's so annoying. I seriously don't get why Mom likes a guy like him."

"He's handsome," Aren grinned. "And rich. If he becomes your stepdad, maybe you'll get a Lamborghini."

"That's not the point, you dumpling," Nada stabbed another piece of batagor. "I think he's a playboy. My mom's probably just one of his girlfriends. He's only interested in her because she's smart and beautiful."

She glanced around the crowded food court.

"I wouldn't even be surprised if he's here today to meet another girlfriend."

Her eyes instinctively searched the mall, trying to spot Mr. Gading among the afternoon crowd.

Aren folded her arms.

"And how exactly do you know he has lots of girlfriends?"

Nada froze. Good question. How did she know? Was this the same thing that had happened earlier? Just like when she'd somehow known exactly how to answer Benu's conversation about the new transfer student...

Even though yesterday afternoon she'd been riding an air-conditioned intercity bus back from Semarang.

"...Women's intuition," she answered at last.

Aren snorted.

"That's pretty weak without proof."

She pointed a finger.

"Or at least a witness," then she leaned forward excitedly. "So... how was the new student? Is he really that handsome?"

"He's okay," Nada shrugged. "He sat in your seat today since you weren't there."

Aren's eyes nearly popped out. "Seriously? Did you two introduce yourselves?"

Nada shook her head. "Why would I? He's so cold."

"Cold?"

"Yeah," she made a flat expression. "Always wearing the same blank face. No smile. Getting to know someone like that sounds exhausting. Good thing he'll probably move to another seat tomorrow."

"So not like Nathan," Aren smiled knowingly. "He's actually friendly, considering he's basically the school's celebrity."

"Oh..."

Nada remembered the morning incident.

"I bumped into him today. He was carrying a pile of books. They flew everywhere. Some even landed in the drainage ditch near the school store."

Aren looked so intrigued that Nada ended up telling her the whole story. Well... almost the whole story. She deliberately skipped the strangest part about who had actually crashed into whom. Instead, she watched Aren's reaction.

"Why are you so interested?" Nada narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you have a crush on Nathan."

Aren instantly sat up straight. "What?! Me? Eww! No way!"

She waved both hands frantically.

"He has thousands of fangirls. I don't want to get bullied by his hardcore fans."

Nada stared at her expressionlessly.

"What do you think this is? A Hollywood teen romance movie, where the plain heroine gets tortured by the popular cheerleader squad because she falls for the rich, handsome basketball captain?"

Aren burst into laughter.

"Not exactly," she scratched her short hair. "I just know my place. He's practically a celebrity. And me? I'm just some random tomboy everyone mistakes for a guy."

At that moment, Nada's phone rang. While Aren quietly dragged the bowl of batagor toward herself, Nada picked up the phone.

An unfamiliar number.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Is this Nada? Nada Aurelia?"

The male voice sounded familiar.

"It's me... Nathan. The guy who ran into you this morning."

Nada blinked. "Y... yes? Is everything okay?"

"Is your address Griya Permata Housing Complex, Block D, Number 221?"

Nada frowned. "Yes. That's my house. Why?"

"I'm standing in front of it right now. I've knocked several times, but nobody answered. You're still out? You haven't come home from school yet?"

Nada went completely still.

Nathan...?At my house? Why?

"I... I'm at the mall, with Aren, waiting for my mom."

"Ohhh, I see," Nathan sounded relieved. "Then I'll come over there instead. You'll still be at the mall for a while, right?"

"Y... yeah. We're waiting for my mom. She probably won't arrive until around five-thirty."

"Got it. I'll head there now. Wait for me. Bye."

The call ended. Nada remained frozen, staring blankly at her phone screen. Aren looked at her curiously.

"My name was mentioned," she leaned closer. "What happened?"

For several seconds Nada couldn't even find the words to answer.