In the middle of the lively classroom, where laughter filled the air, one girl stood out among them all, effortlessly making everyone laugh. Her name was Raiya Melati, known to everyone as Aya. She wasn't just another student; She's the top student, the council vice president, the president of art club and cheer club, and undeniably the most easy-going and fun girl in Petra High.

Everyone in petra high knew her. Who didn't? Her legend started the moment she stepped into the school, when her impromptu performance of "Despacito" accidentally blasted over the school's speakers, making her an instant icon. From that day, her name spread like wildfire, turning her into the girl everyone wanted to know. 

Now, in her 11th grade, Aya carried on as usual, cracking jokes and keeping the class entertained before the teacher could even walk through the door. When the teacher finally got inside, aya quickly slid back into her seat with a practiced grace. With a bright smile and her usual upbeat tone, she led the class in the greeting, her voice rising above the murmurs like a melody, commanding the room effortlessly.

Midway through the leason, aya attention began to drift. Her gaze shifted toward the window, where the sky stretched wide and endless, a soft blue canvas that seemed far more inviting than the equations on the board. Absentmindedly, she balanced a pen on her pouting lips, eyes glazed as she lost herself in thought.

"psstt.." whisper her seatmate, as she leaned in then slide a note to her.

Aya's fingers hesitated for a moment before she opened it. The scrawled handwriting made her smile. "Did you know there's a really pretty boy in our school?"

She tilted her head, amusement playing on her lips, and scribbled back, "Who?"

Another quick exchange, and the note returned to her hands. "I don't know his name yet, but he's blonde. I heard he lived in the U.S." Aya glanced up just in time to catch her friend winking mischievously.

Blonde, huh? Aya's thoughts flickered briefly, curiosity piquing before she shrugged it off. So what if he's pretty? There were probably dozens of good-looking guys at school, nothing out of the ordinary. She forced the thought away, but an old memory tugged at her—of a boy she'd once seen crying at the station stairs. His face, filled with quiet sorrow, his tear-streaked face somehow making him even more striking than anyone she'd ever met. It wasn't the kind of beauty that faded—it was raw, vulnerable, unforgettable. 

Now that, she thought, the image still vivid in her mind, was the only pretty boy who ever truly left a mark on me.

A few hours later, the lesson has ended. Aya and her friends walk together through the hallway to the canteen, "so.. aren't you curious abour the pretty boy?" ask one of her friend as she smirk while looking at aya. 

Aya rolled her eyes, and shrug. "curious? why would i be?" 

"oh, c'mon! we all know your down bad for a boy who is pretty. Especially when they've got both looks and charm," her friend teased, bumping her shoulder.

"well.. not wrong," aya grinned, "but I'm not picking anyone if I haven't seen them up close."

"well, if you didn't care.. then you must be not wanting to know of this boy," tease her friend. 

"who says i don't want to know?" 

Her friends laugh, "Well, I heard he's from usa, but that's only her mother. While, her father it's actually from indonesia." spoke the friend. 

"hmm.." aya hummed, "that's all you've got?" She tried to sound uninterested, but deep down, she had a strange feeling—almost like she already knew this boy somehow, the one who'd been haunting her thoughts.

"ohh~ you said you won't place any interest in him~" tease the friend, as she laugh. "hmm.. from the info i got, he wear a glasses, blue eyes, and tan skin. Oh, and apparently, he switched schools 'cause guys kept mistaking him for a girl.." 

"seriously? he's that pretty? even the man among him almost mistook him as a girl?" aya tilted her head. 

"That's the word on the street," her friend shrugged, "but who knows if it's true."

Later on, aya and her friends go to a diffrent hallway, since aya had to do some duties as the vice president student council. She walked through the hallway, alone. Then, she stopped when she heard a sob from near the stairs. 

Curious, she tiptoed closer, her heart racing. When she peeked around the corner, her eyes widened. No way. It was him. The boy from the train station, the one who'd been stuck in her mind for so long. He sat on the stairs, crying softly, wiping his tears with his sleeve.

"fuck,"Aya whispered under her breath, biting her lip to stifle a grin. She felt a weird, twisted excitement bubbling up—something about seeing someone so beautiful, so broken, made her heart pound.

"stupid father," the boy sobbed, "stupid mother." he coninued with the sobbed, as well wiping his own tears with his own sleeve. 

"i already told them, that they didn't need to move me out. Yet, they did." he grumble along with the sobbed. 

Aya couldn't help but chuckle under her breath, crouching down just behind him, careful not to be seen. She leaned in slightly, her eyes locked on him as he cried, eager to hear more.

"ugh.. when this tears will stop," he grumble, still wiping his tear with his sleeve, "i hope no one see me like this—ahh!" He jumped, startled as he turned and found Aya sitting right behind him.

"hello there, cry boy." aya smiled. 

the boy gulped, when he see aya smiled. It's like a devil smile, when he see it. 

"h-hi.." he stutter, then quickly look away to hide his face. 

"So, why are you here alone? It's lunch, right? Not hungry?" Aya teased, tilting her head as she stood up and casually walked closer, her eyes still locked on him.

"well.. i already eat earlier, so i'm good.." he mumbled, then glance at aya. He couldn't help but stare. Black ponytail, pale skin, puppy eyes, tall and athletic—is this the girl the principal was talking about? he wondered, still lost in his thoughts.

Aya caught him staring, and blinked a few times before chuckling. "Whoa, don't stare like that. You'll burn a hole right through me, sweetheart." 

s-sweetheart?! His eyes widened, shocked at her boldness.

"oh?" Aya burst out laughing when she saw his shocked expression. "your expression," she snickered between giggles. It's so easy to read, you know?" she continoud while laughing. 

"So, rude." he mumbled under his breath

"Hm? what do you say?" Aya stepped closer, her tone playful as ever.

Startled again, he instinctively stepped back—only to lose his balance. Before he could even react, Aya's arm shot out and caught him. Now, in her arms, he felt completely out of place, like the roles had flipped and he was the one being saved. Great... now I look like the damsel in distress.

Aya didn't miss a beat. "Oh, by the way, what's your name?" she asked, so casually, while he was still half-held in her embrace.

"Azka.." he mumbled, trying to keep his cool, "and.. uhh.. could you let me go now?" 

"Oh, right, sorry!" Aya laughed, releasing him quickly. "You gotta be more carefull next time," he teased, throwing in a playful wink.

Azka felt a shiver run down his spine. What is with this girl? "Yeah, sure…" he muttered, still trying to process everything.

"anywaayy~" she started, folding her arms behind her head, "which class are yo—" Her phone buzzed, interrupting her. She sighed in frustration, glancing at the screen. It was the student council president.

"ah, fuck. I forgot, i supposed to help them," she mumbled, then flashed Azka a grin. "Well.. gotta run! Nice meeting you, Azka! I'm Aya, the vice president. If you ever need anything—anything—just call me." She winked again, casually handing him a slip of paper with her number on it before strolling away like nothing had happened.

Azka stood there, completely frozen. "what the fuck.." he whispered.