"One school has a different level to be precise. I was in the eighth grade, Mas Arman was in the 10th grade. So I was in junior high school, he was in high school," added Nila, the girl.
"Are you neighbors like that?" I continued to know.
"No, Sis! In fact, our house is very far, yes, it's only one school. Oh yeah, my friends and I want to go around to see other products, I'll write down my cellphone number, okay? Don't forget to miscall later Mas. I'll have your number Who knows I'll go to Jogja to play." She handed me a business card with her cellphone number. While waving at us. Arman and I replied too.
"One school, different grades? How can you remember that? I've already forgotten who my underclassman or senior is. I'm sure she's someone who thinks you're special?" I guess because I felt something odd. Arman immediately invited me to sit again behind the desk. He and I sat opposite each other.
