The next morning, the campus atmosphere felt like a battlefield to me.
Not the kind you see in movies, with explosions and dramatic music. This one was quieter, subtler, more psychological. The kind where every glance felt like a threat and every step had to be calculated. The air itself felt tense, as if something bad could happen at any moment if I made the wrong move.
Especially every time I met Akmal's eyes.
It wasn't that he was staring openly. Akmal never did anything that obvious. He didn't need to. His gaze would just casually land on me for half a second too long, then drift away, as if he were memorizing something. Every single time it happened, my spine stiffened. It felt like being scanned by invisible surveillance laser beams, the kind you only notice when it's already too late.
I kept telling myself I was imagining things. Akmal was always like that. Observant. Annoyingly perceptive. But that didn't help my nerves at all.
So I acted.
I acted like nothing was wrong.
I did every activity like I was actually studying in class. I opened my notebook neatly, lined it up parallel with the edge of the desk like a disciplined student. I wrote down the lecture material word for word, even the parts I already understood. My handwriting was unusually tidy, as if the neatness could convince the universe that I was calm.
I nodded at the right moments. I raised my eyebrows slightly when the lecturer emphasized an important point. I even underlined sentences with my pen, slowly and deliberately, pretending I cared deeply about every formula on the whiteboard.
I even laughed when Akmal cracked his cringe jokes.
That was probably the hardest part.
His jokes weren't funny. They were never funny. They were the kind of jokes that relied purely on confidence and timing, delivered loudly enough that people laughed out of reflex rather than genuine amusement. Still, I forced myself to smile. I let out short, convincing chuckles at the exact right seconds, careful not to overdo it.
Inside, though, everything was fake.
The smiles were fake. The focus was fake. The calm was fake.
The only thing that felt real was the clock on my phone.
I checked it obsessively, my thumb hovering over the screen like it might somehow speed things up if I stared hard enough. Every minute crawled by like a wounded snail dragging itself across the pavement, slow and painfully deliberate.
10:07.
10:12.
10:18.
My leg bounced under the desk, an unconscious rhythm of anxiety. I stopped it, then started again. My chest felt tight, as if my lungs couldn't quite get enough air.
10:25.
Come on. Come on.
When the clock finally reached 10:30, the bell rang.
The sound echoed through the classroom, sharp and merciful.
Before Akmal even had the chance to open his mouth—before he could lean over, crack another joke, or ask where I was going—I blurted out, far too loudly, "I'm taking a 20-minute break, okay! I'll be back in class at 10:50!"
The words spilled out in a rush, clumsy and unfiltered. A few heads turned in my direction. The lecturer paused mid-sentence, frowning slightly.
Akmal blinked, clearly caught off guard.
I didn't wait for a response.
I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and shot out of the classroom like a fugitive escaping custody. My footsteps echoed down the hallway as I moved faster than necessary, heart pounding hard like I had just finished a marathon—or like I was running one.
Please let no one follow me.
Please let no one follow me…
The mantra repeated in my head with every step.
I didn't look back. Looking back would have been a mistake. Instead, I cut across the courtyard and headed straight for the small park near the volleyball court, my lungs burning slightly by the time I reached it.
The little park was quiet.
Too quiet, almost.
Palm trees stood in neat rows, their long leaves swaying lazily, filtering the sunlight into soft patterns on the ground. The air felt cooler here, shaded and calm, a sharp contrast to the buzzing chaos of the main campus.
It was truly the perfect place for… serious assignment discussions.
Yeah. Right.
I walked deeper into the park, choosing the bench at the very corner—the one partially hidden by bushes and angled away from the main path. From there, I had a clear view of the entrance trail. If anyone showed up, I'd see them immediately.
I sat down, exhaling slowly.
Then I waited.
Every second felt painfully slow. The ticking of time was almost audible, loud inside my head. I checked my phone again. Too early. Still too early.
My fingers drummed lightly against my knee. I scanned the path, then scanned it again. A couple walked past, laughing softly. A group of juniors crossed the park, arguing about something trivial.
None of them were her.
Five minutes later, she appeared.
Cantika.
The moment I saw her, something in my chest loosened.
She wore a simple gray T-shirt, casual and unassuming, the kind that somehow suited her perfectly. Her hair was tied up high, exposing her neck, a few loose strands framing her face. There was a slight tension in her expression as she approached, her brows drawn together—but the moment her eyes met mine, that tension dissolved.
She smiled.
Not a big, dramatic smile. Just a small one. But it was enough.
She walked quickly, her steps light but purposeful, occasionally glancing left and right as if expecting someone to jump out from behind a tree. She must have been afraid of getting caught by Akmal too. The thought almost made me smile—almost.
"Randi! Sorry I'm a bit late," she whispered as she reached the bench, her voice low. She sat down on the far end, leaving a clear gap between us.
A safe distance.
"I had to submit a report to the department office first."
"It's okay, Tik. I just got here too," I lied smoothly.
I'd been there for way longer than that, but there was no point admitting it. I shifted slightly, angling my body toward her but keeping my movements casual.
"So," I continued quickly, before the silence could make me nervous, "what's the brilliant idea for Pak Dani's assignment?"
I deliberately emphasized assignment, hoping it would anchor the conversation to something neutral, something safe. If I focused on the task, maybe my heart would stop racing.
She took a deep breath.
Her posture changed subtly—shoulders straightening, eyes sharpening with focus. It was like watching someone switch modes. The nervousness faded, replaced by quiet confidence.
"I was thinking…" she began, pausing briefly, as if choosing her words carefully. "What if we don't look for data from buildings or bridges that are already finished?"
I frowned slightly, intrigued.
"What about data from projects that are still under construction?" she continued. "It's usually easier to get access because they're still in progress. Sometimes the consultants are more open to students who genuinely want to learn."
She leaned forward a little as she spoke, her hands moving naturally as she explained. Her voice grew steadier, more animated. She talked about how ongoing projects often required documentation anyway, how academic requests could sometimes align with their internal reporting.
She even mentioned specific sites—construction zones near Bekasi, projects she had passed on her journey to her family house and taken mental notes of. She spoke about timelines, supervising consultants, and the types of data that might realistically be available.
She didn't just have an idea.
She had a plan.
I stared at her in disbelief, my earlier anxiety completely forgotten.
"Tik… that's… GENIUS!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself.
She blinked, then laughed softly, clearly pleased.
I shook my head, genuinely impressed. "Not just because the idea is good," I added quickly, trying to explain the weight behind my reaction, "but because it actually solves the access problem. I was stuck thinking only about completed structures."
Then it clicked.
"That elevated toll road project near Bekasi Station is huge right now, right?" I said, my mind racing. "The supervising consultant is PT. Bina Konstruksi, isn't it?"
Her face lit up instantly.
"Yes!" she smiled widely, pride evident in her eyes. "I already checked. They have a more open policy for academic research."
She spoke faster now, excitement building. "We can try going together, bring a recommendation letter from Pak Dani, a clear proposal… who knows, it might work!"
Her eyes sparkled with genuine hope.
"I also need that data for my group," she added. "So it helps both of us."
"It will work for sure!" I said without hesitation.
The confidence in my own voice surprised me. Just yesterday, I had been ready to give up entirely. Now, everything felt possible.
Without realizing it, I shifted a little closer.
"You're really good at thinking up solutions, Tik," I said, my tone softer. "I had already given up yesterday."
I looked into her clear brown eyes.
There was depth in them—intelligence, sincerity, and something gentler beneath the surface. For a brief moment, the world narrowed to just the two of us sitting on that bench.
I forgot about Akmal.
I forgot about the blind date later that night.
I forgot about everything else.
All that remained was admiration and… something more.
"Thank you so much," I said quietly. "You seriously saved me."
She lowered her head shyly, her cheeks coloring slightly.
"You're welcome," she replied. "I needed a solution too."
She played with the edge of her shirt, twisting the fabric between her fingers. The atmosphere shifted, growing softer, heavier in a way that had nothing to do with assignments.
The park seemed quieter than before.
Only the sound of birds chirping in the distance and faint car engines from the main road broke the silence. The initial tension that had followed me all morning slowly melted away.
I became acutely aware of how close she was.
Not touching—but close enough that I could feel the warmth from her body, just a handspan away. It was distracting. Comforting. Dangerous.
"So…" I broke the silence, my voice slightly hoarse. "When should we try going there? Tomorrow?"
She lifted her head, meeting my gaze again.
"That could work…" she said thoughtfully. "But I have a morning class."
She paused briefly, then continued, "How about the afternoon? After lectures at 4?"
Her offer was simple.
To me, it felt like an invitation.
"Deal!" I replied instantly, far too quickly to be subtle.
I didn't even think about it. I completely forgot that tomorrow night I might have some kind of responsibility with Maya. In that moment, none of it mattered.
What mattered was that I could go out together with Cantika.
"4:15 we meet at the campus bus stop?" I added. "Then we go straight there."
"Okay!" she smiled.
A warm smile. The kind that stayed with you long after it faded.
"I'll an—"
She hadn't finished speaking.
"WELL, WELL, WELL. A SERIOUS ASSIGNMENT DISCUSSION, HUH? THIS LOOKS REALLY FUN!"
That voice.
Loud.
Sarcastic.
Sharp.
Like a dagger blade slicing straight through the park's fragile silence.
Cantika and I froze.
Eyes wide.
Hearts nearly jumping out of our chests.
Slowly, dreadfully, I turned my head toward the source of the sound.
"Akmal..." I muttered in shock.