September 2021
First Day at the Junior High School Building
Nazma stepped into the junior high school building, her eyes sweeping over the two-story structure.
Inside, there were two staircases; one to the left, and another staircase far ahead.
The staircase far ahead was dark.
Yet, from that very first sight, Nazma felt a surge of excitement.
You're going to compete with great people here.
She smiled to herself.
When she turned around, she found someone familiar.
It was Wahyu's mother—Yanti.
"Oh, hello, Ma'am!" Nazma greeted her politely. "Is Wahyu going to school here? The school is beautiful, isn't it, Ma'am?"
The corner of Yanti's lip lifted slightly.
Instead of taking in the grandeur of the two-story building as Nazma had, she stared at the dusty floor with a faint scowl.
She adjusted her shoulder bag with a sharp movement, then let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes, his grandmother insisted he go here," she replied flatly.
"But I'm planning to transfer him to a public school later. In my opinion... there's nothing good about this place."
Nazma fell silent.
The spark in her eyes, which had been admiring every corner of the building, suddenly dimmed.
The proud smile that had blossomed on her lips froze, leaving a stiff sensation in her cheeks.
She blinked repeatedly, trying to process the words "nothing good" that Yanti had just hurled.
Instinctively, Nazma looked around again.
How is it not good?
Her eyes traced the sturdy pillars and the neatly arranged rows of classrooms.
She remembered the school's reputation; people often spoke of the teachers here as the best.
To her, this school was a dream battlefield, a gateway to a magnificent future.
But seeing the disdainful face before her, Nazma felt like a child who had just been told her favorite toy was actually nothing but junk.
Despite her chest thundering with confusion and a hint of resentment, Nazma took a deep breath. She swallowed every argument that nearly slid off her tongue.
With what remained of her resolve, she bowed deeply, keeping her manners intact. "Is that so, Ma'am? Well then, I'll be on my way to class."
"Alright, Nong," the mother replied, her tone now polite.
Her footsteps echoed softly. The distinct sound of her shoes tapped against the winding stairs—up. Turn. Up again.
To the right, she saw the infirmary. And right next to it—
Class 7A.
Nazma entered her new classroom for the first time.
It was still empty. The room was bright, clean, and peaceful. Nazma walked in and took her seat.
A small smile surfaced on her lips.
This is my place now.
I will compete!
Only one other student was already seated, tucked away in the front corner near the window.
Nazma watched her for a moment. Alone, just like me. A good chance to introduce myself first.
With a light step, Nazma approached and sat beside her.
She offered a wide smile.
"Hi, my name is Nazma Xanthe. Who are you?"
The student turned.
"My name is Safina."
Nazma nodded slowly.
"Where are you from?"
Their conversation drifted into light small talk. Talking about the weather, the teachers rumored to be strict, and which seat in the class stayed the coolest.
Safina gave short answers. Still, Nazma kept trying to maintain the flow.
Well, not everyone hits it off immediately. But at least I started it.
Nazma sat at her desk. Her seatmate had yet to arrive.
Time seemed to drag. Hundreds of seconds ticked by. Nazma began to feel a sense of restlessness.
A boy, about 170 cm tall, passed her desk. Nazma glanced at him.
Wow, he's so tall. I wonder where he's sitting?
The boy walked to a desk three seats to Nazma's left.
With certain steps, he sat in the front, facing the blackboard directly.
Nazma couldn't help her admiration. Wow, so tall, and he sits right in the front.
Minutes crawled by.
Nazma scanned the room, which was becoming increasingly cramped with the hustle and bustle of new students.
Her focus remained fixed on the empty chair to her left.
Then, a long shadow fell across her desk.
A girl with a tall, slender posture stood there.
Her long legs stood out against the stiff fabric of her new uniform. Her skin was fair and clear, as if reflecting the neon light from the ceiling. She carried a different aura; her movements were calm, lacking the frantic energy of searching for a seat.
Nazma watched in silence as the girl reached for the back of the chair beside her.
Her slender fingers pulled the chair out, creating a soft creak that seemed to slice through the surrounding noise.
A faint, fresh scent—like soap or a gentle perfume—lingered as she settled into the seat, placing her bag down with graceful movements.
Nazma swallowed hard, weighing the hesitation in her mind before finally daring to turn fully.
"Hi, what's your name?" Nazma finally broke the silence between them.
The girl turned. A smile bloomed on her slender face, radiating a warmth that instantly thawed the air.
"Celline," she answered, brief yet warm.
"And you?" Celline asked back, her eyes shining with curiosity.
Hearing that, the corners of Nazma's lips lifted. The anxiety that had been nesting in her chest began to fade, replaced by a fresh spark of excitement.
"Nazma Xanthe."
Nazma gave Celline her best smile—a sincere curve of the lips. There was a glimmer she couldn't hide as she looked at her new seatmate.
Behind that smile, Nazma's mind began to wander. She stared toward the front of the class, her focus on the imaginary pages of the book she had just opened.
This is it, she thought. The first chapter of my new life.
Nazma took a long breath, letting the oxygen of the junior high building fill her lungs. She hadn't come here just to move up a grade; she was here for a redemption. In this school, she was truly on her own. Only three people from her elementary school had enrolled here, and that was a hidden blessing. No one knew her as the old Nazma.
I won't be that pathetic Nazma anymore, she promised herself. I'll prove to the little girl who used to sit alone in the corner of the class that she can be someone different. I'll be the first to say hello. I'll smile more.
I'll be a good, kind, and open friend to anyone.
The shadow of a lonely, friendless past began to fade, replaced by a resolve of steel. She wanted to erase every bitter memory of rejection and the inferiority that used to grip her. She didn't want to be a mere shadow behind someone else's back anymore.
Then, a name flashed through her mind. Simon.
Nazma clenched her fingers slightly under the desk. This time, she didn't want to be a tree that could only grow because of someone else's foundation.
In this school, in this grand two-story building, Nazma would learn to stand on her own two feet. Without Simon's shadow. Without the fear of being left behind.
This is her chance to be reborn.
Then, Nazma looked at Celline's face once more.
Nazma's gaze was held captive, as if she had just discovered a precious painting on display. From the side, the sharp line of her nose, her long lashes, and the way her coal-black hair fell gracefully over her shoulders created a silhouette that felt hauntingly familiar.
Nazma's heart fluttered. She felt as though she were seeing Mei-mei in Celline's face.
Celline's face reflected that same aura of Mei-mei. A powerful calmness and a gaze that hinted at unwavering principles.
She is... so beautiful, Nazma thought, unable to look away. It's not just her face, the way she sits and looks forward too. She has that same resolve.
Nazma swallowed, the awe still heavy in her chest.
Was the universe being kind to her? On her very first day, was she truly being introduced to a different version of Mei-mei? Just as Nazma sought to redeem herself, had God given her another version of Mei-mei?
Shortly after, the roll call began.