Tales of White and Gray

Chapter 3: Love of White and Blue



Turns out the one yelling earlier was Santi, the former student council president and also the class president. Back when I was in my first year, I used to have a crush on her. She was cute and pretty, but she flat-out rejected me. I mean, back then, I was short, chubby, and lacked confidence—of course she turned me down. But now? I've changed a lot. I'm way cooler, super confident, and honestly, a whole new version of myself.

"Get to the podium, now! Stop standing there like statues!" Santi barked, her loud voice grabbing the attention of everyone around us.

"Relax, you don't have to yell like that," I replied coolly, even though deep down I was wondering why she was suddenly being so bossy.

"You're always so stubborn!" Santi snapped, her tone sharper this time.

"C'mon, Ngga, let's bail before the wicked witch starts another rant," I joked, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

Santi shot us both a sharp glare before storming off. She joined her close friends for a moment, chatting briefly, but not without throwing another piercing look our way before walking away. Her expression said it all—she wasn't amused.

'Damn, this guy's still drooling while staring at Echa walking toward the school podium,' I thought to myself, watching Angga frozen in place, his eyes glued to Echa's curvy figure as she joked around with her classmates.

I glanced at Angga, whose face looked like it belonged in some sleazy horror comedy—his expression full of wild, wandering imaginations fueled by peak horniness, as if his brain had relocated to his crotch. Honestly, I started feeling embarrassed for him. "Aren't you ashamed of yourself, staring like that?" I said irritably, giving his head a light smack.

Angga just grinned, pretending not to hear me. "What's the problem? She's nice to look at," he replied casually, his smile unchanged.

"Nice to look at? Sure… but your perverted face, bro—it's dirtier than a sewer!" I shot back, shaking my head as I walked away. Honestly, I wanted to smack some sense into him, to remind him there are more important things than ogling a girl's backside. But, well, it's Angga. He's just like that, and no amount of scolding is going to change him.

As we approached the podium, my eyes caught Santi standing at the very front of the line. There was something odd about her behavior lately. Over the past few months, her attitude toward me had shifted. She'd been snapping at me a lot more, picking fights over the smallest things, like earlier. 

Being the natural troublemaker I am, I found it oddly entertaining to mess with her. I figured teasing her might loosen her up a bit, maybe even bring back the chill Santi I used to like. But every time I tried, it just made her angrier. Instead of lightening up, she'd explode even more, leaving me dumbfounded every time.

I figured maybe she was dealing with her "monthly visitor" or something else that was making her extra sensitive. Or perhaps I had done something wrong to her without realizing it. The Santi I used to know—cheerful and full of spirit—had somehow turned into someone who could explode over the tiniest things. 

I had no idea what was going through her head, but I knew for sure something was off. And me? Well, all I could do was speculate. Yet, there was one thing I couldn't deny—she had me curious as hell.

***

I was now sitting cross-legged on the schoolyard floor, facing the podium. From a friend who had arrived earlier, I learned that all the students were gathered here to hear the announcement of the highest UN (national exam) scores in our school.

"For the third highest UN score, we have... Angga Setiawan," one of the teachers announced loudly.

"Whoa, congrats, bro!" I cheered Angga on enthusiastically.

"Thanks, man. Honestly, I just copied off you," he replied with an innocent, guilt-free look, leaving me shaking my head.

"You jerk. I don't even know if I've passed or not," I shot back with a long sigh.

"Hang in there, bro," he said as he made his way up to the podium to receive an award from the principal.

"For the second-highest UN score… Resi Felicia," the teacher continued in a cheerful tone.

"And for the highest UN score... congratulations to Reka Adisubrata," they added, followed by loud applause from all the students present.

However, amidst all the excitement, I started to feel confused. How could I possibly get one of the highest scores? I wasn't even smart. My usual routine in class was sleeping, rarely listening to the teacher, let alone studying seriously. Heck, during exams, I even copied answers left and right. Could it be that my score got mixed up with some genius student's? Yeah, it had to be a mix-up. There's no way I'd be this lucky. My head was filled with doubts and suspicions, while my name was being announced as one of the top scorers.

I sat there for a moment, trying to process this hard-to-believe reality. While there was a tiny sense of pride, deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that this all felt like a dream. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing the podium, my mind kept spinning—doubts mixed with a hint of gratitude. But the discomfort lingered, as if something about this didn't quite align with the reality I knew.

Eventually, I walked up to the podium alongside Angga and a girl I didn't recognize. Everyone started congratulating me. Meanwhile, I was convinced that my score had been swapped (getting a high score and denying it, smh (-_-')). It felt incredibly strange, like living through something that didn't entirely feel real.

***

After the earlier announcement, I was practically forced to treat the entire class to a meal. Man, this was such a rip-off! I couldn't refuse, and I knew full well that if I did, I'd probably be strung up on the school flagpole by my overly enthusiastic classmates who were all fired up to celebrate my "victory." It felt like resistance was futile, so I went along with it, even though deep down, I was wincing at the thought of how much this was going to cost me.

While I was chatting with everyone in the cafeteria, Santi—aka the witch—showed up. Lately, I hadn't been too fond of her behavior, so I didn't really pay her much attention. Still, something nagged at the back of my mind, a lingering guilt about the change in her attitude. As I sat there, I couldn't help but notice her stealing glances at me. I started to feel awkward. What's wrong with me? I asked Angga if something was off with my face. I checked my shirt, my pants… nothing seemed out of place.

Suddenly, Santi stood up, and with a mix of nervousness and determination, she gently but firmly grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the noisy group in the cafeteria. Her face looked tense and stern as usual, but there was a faint blush on her cheeks—betraying a sense of shy vulnerability hidden beneath her tough exterior. I followed her, bewildered by this sudden shift in her behavior.

"Reka, I need to talk to you…"


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