5:45 a.m.
The kind of hour when most people were still asleep.
A thin layer of mist still clung to the rooftops. The asphalt streets of London, which had been muddy after yesterday afternoon’s rain, were still wet. Small puddles remained along the sides of the road, reflecting the yellow streetlights that hadn’t been turned off yet.
The smell of wet earth mixed with the smell of morning fried snacks from the small food stall at the end of the alley had already started to fill the air.
The woman who owned the stall had started frying tempeh at 5:30 a.m.
The oil made a loud sizzle that could be heard all the way to the alley behind it.
The rooster belonging to the neighbor near the blue boarding house had already started crowing.
Kuk-kuruyuk.
But its voice was incredibly hoarse, almost like the little Miyako fan inside the blue boarding house, which had been making its creak-creak-creak sound all night.
Inside the blue boarding house behind the chicken-noodle stall, the faded blue paint was already peeling.
The plywood door had “BLUE BOARDING HOUSE” written across it in faded black permanent marker.
The five-watt yellow light was still on, flickering—
blink... blink...
It had been left on since 11:30 p.m. because Nata hadn't turned it off.
The switch was broken and had to be propped up with a matchstick to keep the light on.
The little Miyako fan in the corner was still turning slowly.
Creak-creak-creak.
The air it produced was warm, not cold at all.
Completely different from the 16-degree AC in Kyla’s room that had made her brown blanket fall onto the floor twice.
There was one thin mattress on the floor.
The checkered bedsheet looked similar to Kyla’s brown blanket, except this one was much more worn out and thinner, with a faint smell of the internet café and old oil.
One flat pillow lay on the mattress, with a fresh drool stain from 4 a.m., when Nata had dreamed about Kyla eating two Magnum ice creams on the terrace.
On the mattress, Nata was sleeping with his mouth open.
He was still wearing the plain white T-shirt that had already turned slightly yellow around the armpits, the one he'd put on yesterday afternoon after changing out of the black shirt stained with blue screen-print ink that smelled like the internet café.
His gray shorts were still the same ones he'd worn while keeping Kyla company on the terrace until exactly 10 p.m.
His feet were still slightly dusty, even though he'd washed them with the blue bucket and dipper at 10:45 the night before.
His cheap phone rested on his chest. The screen was cracked in the upper-right corner. The battery was at 1%, blinking red.
His wallpaper was a picture of Kyla eating a Magnum ice cream, secretly taken at 8:50 p.m. the previous evening on the terrace.
Her white cropped shirt. Her messy hair after sleeping for seven hours. The faint pillow mark on her left cheek. And her genuine smile. Not the fake smile from her Close Friends story at 2:17 a.m.
Beside the mattress was a small wooden table for his old laptop and a charging cable held together with black tape.
On the table was a bottle of old oil from the internet café, its cap already open, along with two used oil-stained tissues.
In front of the boarding-house door, the gray bicycle he'd borrowed from his landlord was parked.
Its bent kickstand was still being propped up with a brick so it wouldn't fall into the drain.
The chain was slightly shinier after Nata had put some old oil on it at 5 a.m.
He'd woken up at 4:50 because he'd dreamed about Kyla sleep-talking:
“Ta... the ice cream... two...”
The gray bicycle no longer made the loud creak-creak-creak it had made yesterday when entering the gate in London at 8:20 p.m.
Now it only made a very soft—
Creak... creak...
Almost impossible to hear.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
6:00 a.m. exactly.
Someone knocked on the plywood door of the blue boarding house. Softly, but clearly.
Three times.
Nata didn't wake up. He was still snoring softly.
Snore... snore...
His voice sounded almost exactly like Kyla when she'd slept for seven hours on the brown sofa the day before.
It had been loud enough to reach the terrace.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
This time, a little louder.
There was also the sound of flip-flops dragging against the wet ground outside the door.
Nata woke up in shock. His hair was messy like an old broom. His eyes were only half open.
The dark circles under them were extremely obvious because he'd spent the previous night chatting until 11:20 and then looking at Kyla's photo seven times until 2 a.m.
Nata sat up on the thin mattress.
Creaaak.
“Who is it? Landlord? Yeah, sir, I know. The rent is $18, right? It's due on the 30th. It's only the 24th. There are still six days left, sir. Don't lock my room yet. I only got paid $3 yesterday!”
His voice was hoarse from sleep. He was still half asleep.
There was two seconds of silence from outside. Then came a girl's voice. Soft.
A little shaky from the cold morning mist in London.
“Ta... it's... Kyla...”
Nata immediately became 100% awake. His heart went—
thump-thump-thump.
Even harder than when Kirana had told him to come inside at 8:20 p.m. the previous night. Even harder than when Kyla had said, “What if I dream about you instead?” at 11:15 p.m.
Nata jumped off the thin mattress. His foot caught on his broken Swallow sandal sitting near the door.
Thump.
He fell into the laundry bucket filled with clothes that had been waiting three days to be washed. Water splashed onto his gray shorts.
Nata didn't care. He immediately opened the plywood door.
Creak.
The rusty hinges made a loud noise.
Outside was the morning mist of London at 6 a.m. The air was cool and gentle.
Kyla was standing in front of the blue boarding house. She was wearing an oversized cream campus jacket that was probably Kirana's.
It was much too big for her. The sleeves were so long they covered half of her hands. Underneath, she wore a plain white T-shirt, not the cropped one from yesterday. She was wearing loose gray training pants instead of the shorts above her knees from yesterday.
Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail. Her face was still slightly swollen from sleep. Her cheeks were red from the cold morning air.
On her feet were white flip-flops that were already a little dirty from the muddy alley.
In her right hand was a clear plastic bag containing four pieces of freshly fried tempeh.
They were still steaming. Thin wisps of smoke rose from them.
Oil was still dripping into the plastic bag.
They were warm. Very fresh.
In her left hand was a small plastic bag containing two packets of warm tea tied with a rubber band.
Behind Kyla, about five meters away at the end of the muddy alley, Kirana's white car was parked. She couldn't drive into the alley because it was too narrow.
The car's tires had already gotten muddy. Its headlights were still on.
Inside, Kirana was sitting in the driver's seat, wearing the cream work shirt she'd prepared for the office in London.
Her hair was still slightly wet after washing it at 5 a.m. She was drinking instant black coffee while watching through the rearview mirror. She had a small smile on her face. Her eyes were still sleepy, but she was forcing herself to stay awake because she had to leave for work at 7.
Kyla became flustered first when she saw Nata. His hair looked like a bird's nest. His white T-shirt showed the yellowing around the armpits. His gray shorts were still wet from the laundry bucket.
“Ta...”
Nata was still standing there blankly. He looked at Kyla from head to toe. Then he looked at the steaming bag of fried snacks.
“Kyla? At six in the morning? You... you're really standing in front of my blue boarding house? I'm not dreaming, right? I just dreamed about you at four this morning, remember? You were sleep-talking about two ice creams...”
Kyla laughed softly. Her breath came out as a thin mist in the cold morning air.
“I'm not dreaming, Ta. I'm really here. I... I kept my promise. Yesterday at 11:22, you said, ‘Promise?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, promise.’ I promised I'd treat you to fried snacks that weren't cold, right? Ones that were still warm. So... here. They're still warm. I bought them from the stall at the end of the alley at 5:45. The lady had just fried them. Four pieces. Two for you, two for me...”
From inside the car, Kirana honked softly.
Beep!
Once. Short. A sign that said:
Kay, hurry. I have to leave in five minutes. The London traffic at seven is terrible.
Nata panicked. He hurried inside the boarding house and started cleaning up the thin mattress. He quickly flipped the flat pillow over so the drool stain wouldn't be visible. He folded the worn-out checkered blanket into a messy square. He covered the three-day-old laundry bucket with an old Indomaret cardboard box so the pile of clothes wouldn't be seen. He straightened the little wooden table with the old laptop.
The charging cable wrapped in black tape was quickly hidden underneath the table.
“Come in, Kay. Come in. Sorry it's such a mess. My blue boarding house isn't like your room with the 16-degree AC and lemon scent. This place smells like an internet café and old oil...”
Kyla stepped inside carefully.
The cement floor was cracked, and there was a small puddle from the leaking roof.
Kyla immediately sat on the thin mattress.
Creaaak.
Dust rose slightly from it.
Kyla opened the bag of warm fried tempeh. More steam rose into the air. The smell of freshly fried tempeh filled the room.
“Here, Ta. Four pieces. They're still warm. Try holding one...” Kyla held one piece out to Nata.
Nata took it. His hands were still dusty and slightly trembling. The fried tempeh was hot enough that he almost dropped it. “It's hot, Kay. It's still steaming...”
“Yeah. That's why it's warm. That's what I promised you. Warm ones. Not cold ones like the two pieces left over on the terrace at 9:30 last night.”
Nata took a bite.
Crunch. Oil melted onto his lips. “It's good, Kay. Really good. Better than yesterday's because it's warm...”
Kyla took a bite too. Her lips became slightly oily. Her cheeks puffed up a little as she chewed.
For five seconds, they were silent. The only sounds were the creak-creak-creak of the fan, the hoarse rooster crowing outside again, and motorcycles passing through the muddy alley.
Vroom... vroom...
Nata looked at Kyla eating fried tempeh inside the blue boarding house at six in the morning. He smiled softly. His second widest smile after the one he'd had when he saw the picture of the two Magnum sticks the night before at 10:30. “Kay, you know what? This is the first time a girl has ever come to the blue boarding house at six in the morning just to bring me four pieces of warm fried tempeh.”
Kyla became flustered. The piece of fried tempeh in her hand almost fell onto the thin mattress. “Ta, don't flirt at six in the morning. I'm still sleepy. My eyes are still swollen like yesterday...”
Nata laughed softly. But this time, he didn't say, “LOL, I'm kidding. From a movie,” like he had the night before when he made the indirect-kiss joke.
This time, Nata was serious. His dark, tired eyes looked directly at Kyla. “I'm not flirting, Kay. I'm serious... I'm really happy. I work twelve hours at the internet café, from eight in the morning until eight at night, for $3. No one's ever come at six in the morning and brought me warm fried snacks...”
Kyla fell silent. Her cheeks were red. Even though the blue boarding house was warm and there was no 16-degree AC, her cheeks were burning just like they had been when she'd read Nata's message:
“I pay attention to you.” At 10:40 p.m. the night before.
Kyla slowly leaned against the plywood wall of the blue boarding house. The faded blue paint was peeling. Above her head, the half-torn One Piece Luffy Gear 5 poster moved slightly in the fan's breeze. The Persija poster beside it was also slightly torn.
“Ta, your gray bicycle doesn't make that creak-creak sound anymore, does it?”
Nata immediately stood proudly and pointed toward the gray bicycle outside the door. “I put old internet-café oil on it at five this morning! I woke up at 4:50 because I dreamed about you sleep-talking, ‘Ta... the ice cream... two...’ Then I remembered my promise from last night at 11:20. I promised I'd fix the creak-creak with oil so it wouldn't be noisy when I entered your gate. Now it's not loud anymore. It only goes creak... creak... really softly.”
Kyla smiled. “Good. That means when you take me to the library at 7:30, my neighbors won't wake up because of your loud creak-creak like yesterday at 8:20.”
Nata froze. The warm fried tempeh in his hand stopped halfway to his mouth. “You want me to take you to the library at 7:30? On the gray bicycle? The one that doesn't creak-creak anymore?”
Kyla nodded slowly. Her cheeks were still red. She played with the end of Kirana's oversized cream jacket. “Yeah. Sis Kirana already gave me permission earlier in the car. She said, ‘Just take her on the gray bicycle. She doesn't need to take the minibus. But don't stay until 10 at night again. Come home at 9. Don't make Kyla sleep on the floor while hugging that brown blanket again.’ Sis Kirana isn't scary anymore, Ta. Because of you...”
From outside, Kirana honked again.
Beep beep!
Twice.
Louder this time. The headlights flashed. It was already 6:15. Kirana had to leave for her office in London at 7. If she got caught in the morning traffic, she might not arrive until 9.
Kyla quickly stood up. Dust from the thin mattress clung to her gray training pants. The oversized cream jacket was still much too big for her. “Ta, I have to go back now. Sis Kirana needs to leave. I'll go to the library later at 11. Wait for me at the internet café in front...”
Kyla walked toward the plywood door.
But then she turned around. She picked up the biggest piece of warm fried tempeh—the one that was still steaming the most—and put it directly into Nata's open mouth.
“Here. The last one. So it doesn't get cold. This one's the warmest...”
Nata's mouth was still open. He bit into it. Oil stuck to his lower lip, making it shiny beneath the flickering five-watt light.
Kyla looked at the oil on Nata's lips. She immediately remembered Nata's indirect-kiss joke from 11 p.m. the previous night about the Magnum ice cream.
“The difference is, if there was only one ice cream, the chocolate would stick to your lips, then stick to my lips when I took the next bite. So it'd be like an indirect kiss.”
“Ta, you've got oil on your lips.”
Nata wiped it with his dusty hand. The oil only spread further. “Like the ice cream yesterday, right? The chocolate stuck to your lips, then to mine? Now this tempeh oil is on my lips, and it'll get on your lips if you bite the same fried snack? An indirect kiss, but with warm fried tempeh?”
Kyla screamed softly, afraid the neighbors in the boarding house would hear. And afraid Kirana in the car would hear too. “TAAAA! IT'S SIX IN THE MORNING AND YOU'RE ALREADY FLIRTING ABOUT AN INDIRECT KISS AGAIN! YESTERDAY IT WAS ICE CREAM, NOW IT'S FRIED TEMPEH!”
Nata laughed loudly. It was the first time he'd laughed that loudly inside the blue boarding house at six in the morning.
Even the fan sounded like it was laughing with him.
Creak-creak-creak.
Kyla ran out of the blue boarding house. Her white flip-flop almost broke, just like Nata's broken Swallow sandal. She slipped slightly on the muddy alley and almost fell. Her ponytail bounced. Her oversized cream jacket fluttered in the morning breeze.
Nata stood in front of the blue boarding house. The words “BLUE BOARDING HOUSE” were above his head. He was still holding half of the fried tempeh he'd bitten into. Oil was still smeared across his lips. He called softly to Kyla, who had already gotten into Kirana's white car at the end of the muddy alley.
“Kay! See you at the library at 11! I'll wait for you at the internet café! The gray bicycle doesn't creak-creak anymore! Promise, I'll bring you home at 9, not 10!”
Kyla rolled down the car window slightly. She stuck her hand out and waved. Her voice was still hoarse after waking up at 5:30.
“PROMISE, TA! ELEVEN!”
Kirana slowly drove the white car away. She also waved at Nata through the rearview mirror, smiling.
Nata remained standing in front of the blue boarding house at 6:20 a.m.
The warm fried tempeh was still in his hand. The five-watt light was still flickering. The fan was still spinning.
Creak-creak-creak.
The hoarse rooster was still crowing.
Kuk-kuruyuk.
Nata spoke quietly to himself.
“Kay, thanks for the warm fried snacks... This is the first time someone has kept a promise to me at six in the morning... The first time a girl has ever come to the blue boarding house at six in the morning...”
Then Nata went back inside. He closed the plywood door.
Creak.
He sat down on the thin mattress. He picked up his cheap phone with 1% battery. He took a picture from above of the four pieces of warm fried tempeh, now reduced to two pieces in the clear plastic bag.
The background showed the thin mattress, the half-torn One Piece poster, and the laundry bucket covered by cardboard. No filter. Just natural. Just like Kyla's picture of the two Magnum sticks the night before at 10:20 p.m.
Nata sent the picture to Kyla at 6:22 a.m., while Kyla was still in the car with Kirana on the misty London streets.
Nata: The warm fried snacks were good, Kay. They're still steaming. Not cold like yesterday. Thanks for coming to the blue boarding house at six in the morning. The gray bicycle doesn't creak-creak anymore. I already put oil on it.
Two blue check marks appeared immediately. Even though Kyla was still in the car.
6:25 a.m.
The streets of London were still wet. The yellow streetlights had only just been turned off.
Kirana drove slowly.
Kyla sat beside her, still wearing Kirana's oversized cream jacket. She replied quickly.
Kyla: You're welcome, Ta. Don't forget to keep the gray bicycle oiled so it doesn't creak-creak when you pick me up at the library at 11. I'll wait for you on the second floor :).
Nata read the message at the blue boarding house at 6:26 a.m.
The five-watt light flickered. The fan went—
Creak-creak-creak.
The warm fried tempeh was still in his hand. Nata smiled. A real smile. Not a fake one.
⁠✿⁠✿✿
And inside the car at 6:30 a.m., Kirana glanced at Kyla, who was smiling to herself while staring at her phone. Her cheeks were red.
Kirana whispered, “Kay, was four pieces of warm fried tempeh worth $0.60 really enough to make you this happy at six in the morning?”
Kyla became flustered and covered her face with Kirana's oversized cream jacket. “SIISSS! SHUT UP!”
The white car continued down the road, leaving the muddy alley behind the chicken-noodle stall. Leaving the blue boarding house behind, its plywood door still slightly open. The five-watt light still flickering. And the gray bicycle, which no longer made that loud creak-creak sound, parked outside with its kickstand propped up by a brick.
✿✿✿✿✿✿
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