1 | First Day

I swore I would not graduate from my college in a single status! For the sake of time! I promised I must have a girlfriend. In front of my glorious campus gate, I vowed I must have one.

So, it had been four years since I studied at the Cloverleaf University of Surabaya - CLOFUS. Forty-eight months I failed to have a girlfriend. There was a row of targets, zero achievements. It was my final year before graduation. After a long day off, it was the first day of college, a new semester. I meant my last semester.

With my G-Shock digital watch and Converse '70 sneakers, that morning, I was on a mission. A paper cup filled with hot coffee from Choco Banana-- a start-up coffeeshop-- accompanying the beginning of my day. After a long day off, returned to study again was a tough ordeal. A cup of coffee could always be counted on to relieve the tension.

The first day of the lecture was the same meaning as new students show their best. Especially the girls. At least, that one thing was enough to get me quite excited. Even hundreds of senior college students also did not want to be late.

With my full tank of confidence, I stepped my foot while visualizing 'Can't Stop the Feeling' by Justin Timberlake, playing as the background soundtrack! 'I got that sunshine in my pocket. Got that good soul in my feet', and so on, and so on. 'I can't stop the feeling! So just dance, dance, dance, and come on'.

Please stop! I could not stop singing!

Suddenly, my dance actually stopped. From afar, I saw a pigeon looked floating in the air. Maybe, that pigeon was looking for its pigeon house at Certajava, a neighborhood where I lived. Perhaps, that pigeon mistook Certajava as a little oasis in the middle of the concrete jungle of a metro city.

Surabaya itself was the second biggest city in Indonesia, after Jakarta. Certajava was indeed surrounded by giant infrastructures.

In the north, for example. There was the enormous health complex in eastern Indonesia 'Dr. Sue Thompson Hospital. Across from it stood the Airlangga University, a public college. To the east of Certajava lies the elite Royal Certajava housing complex.

Farther east, there stood Institute of Technology Tenth November. Not to forget, to the west of Certajava, outspread the famous Clofus, my campus. Meanwhile, to the south, be the Poo Chang Traditional Market.

Amid the hustle and bustle of the college students crowd, a flash of shadow stirred the corner of my eye. A moment later, there was a feeling of itching, to twitch. That symptom was one of my valuable talents, captured the female pheromones. I started tracking down who the disseminator was.

There, beside the trash can in front of the Faculty of Letters. There was a young Arab woman in the veil who walked unpretentiously. Her feet swung in short steps. Nature itself began to get excited. The sun showed off sparkling twinkles. However, the swarm of clouds got in her way. The God of air was jealous. He also seduced by blowing the wind. The pile of leaves suddenly left her path. Amazing!

I knew her. I used to call her Aisha.

She doubled her clothes with a purple sweater, covering her palms. Those who did not know Aisha previously might assume the style of her dress looks odd. In fact, Aisha was disabled. Five fingers on each of her palms were not fully grown. That was why Aisha covered it.

People said that Haji Abdul Rasheed had three children. The oldest was the Surabaya Mayor Jamaal Al Rasheed. The second was Aisha, while the third was her young brother. And it was said that Aisha's young brother was studying in Africa, who knew where?

At first, I felt sorry for Aisha. For all her life, she had endured the stigma. I did not know how Aisha could use stationery or other sophisticated tools, even a modern gadget. In fact, she could. Meaning, she did not just give up. Even more, Aisha went to a famous Clofus campus. Amazingly, she did not feel inferior to her condition. My compassion had now turned extraordinary to her.

I remembered in the past. I was in the same class as Aisha when I was in the Paragraph Writing class. That was the first time I met her in semester one. We are both new students. As I recalled, she came from an Islamic boarding school in Jacobsburg - a town in southern Surabaya. At first, I felt strange. After a while, I started to like her.

I still remembered the first time Aisha smiled at me. But I did not budge. Then, she even laughed loudly. At that time, I was still wearing a helmet in the classroom, the wrong class too. Her laughed grew louder until she somersaults through the air. At that time, I wanted to bite her ear, as Tyson does to Holyfield.

Aisha herself lived in a thick religious environment. That meant as a Muslimah, Aisha has no right to choose her soul mate. That authority rested with the father, Haji Abdul Rasheed. That was how I first thought.

I had been approaching Aisha since then. However, I did not have enough courage to reveal my feeling to her. At that time, I was still naive. Four years later, it felt the same.

Assalamualaikum Aisha! I said to myself.

I was shaking, thinking aloud how civilized it to greet her. Even though it had been four years, I still felt awkward. You see, it took guts to greet this one of the extraordinary God's creations. Now, she walked approaching me. I turned around and then took out my cell phone. After drinking coffee, I pretended to answer the incoming phone.

"Hell, you?" I said to myself. "Oh, wrong number."

Then, I turned my body back to face Aisha. At least, I hoped to get a little eye contact from her. I looked at her, and Aisha welcomed my stare. It was something warm to see the calmness radiating from her eyes.

"Assalamualaikum, Lang," said Aisha, laughing softly.

Oh, my goat! Her soft voice greeted me first. Her crooked teeth peeked behind her smile. Moreover, the raised dimples add to the cuteness, brightness, and saturation levels. Up close, I could smell the Angel of Dawn, a famous perfume brand for Muslims. I knew because my mother sold it in her shop.

"Waalaikumsalam," I replied coolly, as I tried not to be awkward.

Aisha was beautiful and friendly. A truly Muslimah who had grown completely. But something was not like usual. Aisha never greeted me with a laugh before. Was she casting charms on purpose?

Then, she gave me a leaflet and turned her back to me while chatting with her friend. I did not realize that she was with her Muslim gang.

I read the leaflet quickly and fast. There was an article--with no writer name--titled, 'Dignify Women's Dignity - Evict Saltyroth-Dolly Now!' as the headline. I knew what Saltyroth-Dolly means. It was the last Surabaya prostitution complex.

But, it was not the right time to read. It was indeed the right time to adore the Aisha crooked tooth and her dimples.

The praise for Aisha had not yet been dissipated. My pheromone radar sirens were roaring again. A red Mazda 3 Hatchback pulled over to the curb. Right in front of this nose bridge, a young woman came out from the driver's door.

Her long legs walked swiftly. The wind then blew away her half-blonde wavy hair, which was shoulder to shoulder. Her olive's white neck looked so shiny. She took off her aviator sunglasses, and I saw her two eyeballs gleaming sky blue. I bet if this one student was the result of a cross-marriage. If you had this, even her hair loss could make Romeo forget Juliet.

Unlike most female students who wore loafers, she chose to wear sneakers instead. On the sleeve of her clothes, she folded it an inch. There was a circular digital watch on her right wrist. The skirt was slightly longer than the Japanese schoolgirl skirt. It seemed she was purposely showing off her smooth thighs. I certainly did not mind.

This crossbreed girl then checked her cell phone and turned her head around, like a monkey had been blinded.

"Kacey!" shouted one of the women amidst the frenzy.

She smiled as she waved. At that moment, I saw her clean armpits. No shrub grew there. The girl then took a pile of books in the car seat. Strange? Why did she not use her sling bag? Maybe the books did not fit or should not be mixed up on purpose. What was in a college girl's bag anyway? A pipe bomb?

But Kacey? I had never heard that name before. Who was this fashionable young lady? She must have been a new kid on the block. I was determined to make sure that I was noticed and remembered by her. Facing a girl like her, I had to use tricks.

She then walked hastily. I pretended not to see her passing and then blocked her pace. This girl called Kacey bumped me. On purpose, I spilled coffee until it slightly stained my white shirt. As I calculated, the coffee already cold. Apparently, this crossbreed girl's height was almost the same as mine. She was quite as tall as a female.

"Ouch!" I moaned.

She looked choked. On the first day she entered Clofus, she was already in trouble. But I had no intention of finding an enemy. Instead, I hunted for my soul mates. Up close, I could smell cinnamon. I knew, as I said before, my mother owned a shop that also sold fake refill perfumes. With that cinnamon fragrance, oh yeah, she was in lust. And my libido had awakened.

"Sorry," she replied curtly.

"New student, huh?" I asked while cleaning the coffee stain on my shirt.

Then, I bent down to help her pick up the scattered books. I looked into her eyes. She returned my gaze with a frown and then nodded. However, she did not say a single word. Grumpy once.

My eyes then landed on the pages of eNT! magazine that open. It turned out that Kacey liked music. eNT! was a popular entertainment magazine for youngsters. Some who lucky to be born from the middle to upper economic class must be subscribed to eNT! I could be sure this girl had blue blood.

On the open pages of the magazine, there was a photo showing somebody hugging a four-string guitar. The figure was wearing a dark hoodie that covered its head. That figure also wore a mask with a matching color. What could be seen from its face are only its eyes. At a glance, people might do not know whether he was male or female. But I recognized who the figure is.

The page itself was entitled by the editor "Bass is The Soul of Music." I agreed. The caption under the photo was written, 'PLAY HARD: Che admitted, learned to play the bass guitar by self-taught.' It was predictable that 'Che' implied the mysterious figure's stage name. At the end of the sheet, there was a crease visible. It seemed this crossbreed girl had or still read it.

"Thank you," added the girl, then stood up and walked away.

From a distance, I could see her whispering with her friends while glancing at me disgustedly. One of her friends then replied to her whisper while closing her mouth. One seemed to agree with the other. Then, they laughed in the congregation.

Perhaps, the girl called Kacey asked who I was. And that was my mission. To be remembered by her.

Then, there was this young lady. Once, I ever have lent my shoulder to her for crying on. And it was the most meaningful moment for both of us. Since then, our relationship changes forever.