Two days passed, and that afternoon the sun shone brightly again. The basketball court in the center of the school was completely dry, leaving only a thin trail of water along the white lines. The midday breeze carried the sounds of whistling, laughter, and bouncing balls—the typical rhythm of recess after two days of continuous clouds.
Nayara walked down the corridor to the student council room, carrying a report folder. Her uniform was neat as usual, her tie perfectly tied, though a slight fatigued expression was evident on her face, which she masked with an excited expression. On the stairs, several students sat relaxed, eating snacks from the cafeteria.
From the court, the loud sound of a ball bouncing could be heard, followed by laughter as someone successfully sank a three-pointer. Nayara instinctively turned around.
There, Raka was playing with his friends. Their jerseys were half-drenched, but none of them seemed to mind. Raka chuckled when Dimas cheered exaggeratedly after making a basket.
"You've only made one out of five, bro. Don't act like a big shot," Raka said with a laugh.
Dimas pointed to himself. "Once, but it's memorable! That's what momentum is all about!"
From the sidelines, Nathan chimed in dryly. "Momentum, if it only happens once, is called luck."
Their conversation was light, flowing, and lively. Nayara had no intention of stopping, but her steps slowed without her realizing it. She watched them—more precisely, Raka.
The ball bounced again, followed by Raka's laughter. It wasn't loud, it wasn't fake—a laugh that somehow sounded clear to her ears.
Everything around Raka seemed to flow effortlessly, and there was a part of Nayara that felt envious.
I envy people who can laugh without a big reason.
She stared for a moment longer before quickly looking away.
"Hey, Nay!" Jovan's voice broke her reverie.
Nayara immediately turned around. Jovan was coming from the hallway, holding a stack of papers. His uniform was a bit wrinkled today.
"The meeting's about to start, you know. Come on," he said, approaching.
"Hold on. I'll put the reports first." Nayara raised the folder in her hand.
Jovan nodded, then also glanced at the field. "Is the basketball team practicing?"
"Yeah, I think so," Nayara replied curtly.
A mischievous smile appeared on Jovan's face. "Has Dimas started egging you on to watch yet?"
"Watch what?" Nayara frowned.
"He said they're having an internal match in two weeks. Dimas wants a large crowd. Especially the pretty ones," he teased.
Nayara snorted. "Tell Dimas, the student council committee isn't responsible for the audience criteria."
Jovan chuckled. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, aren't you curious to see them play?"
Nayara was about to answer, but the sound of the ball bouncing again made her turn around involuntarily. This time, Raka was standing closer to the fence, bending down to pick up the ball that had bounced out of the court. As he stood and adjusted his position, his eyes briefly met Nayara's.
There was no smile. No greeting. Just a brief glance, with neither of them quickly looking away.
Jovan, who had been watching Nayara's movements, raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong?"
"No. Just watching them," Nayara replied quickly, straightening her folder.
"Hmm." Jovan nodded slowly, his tone too meaningful to be considered neutral. "Okay. 'Watching them.'"
"Seriously, Jo."
"I didn't say anything, Nay," he said, holding back a laugh.
From the field, Dimas exclaimed loudly, "Ka! The ball's stuck on the roof!"
Raka looked up and chuckled. "Take it, you're the one who threw it!"
Nathan shook his head, taking a sip from his canned drink. "I wonder why you guys never play normally."
Nayara smiled unconsciously at the small mess. A sudden warmth and lightness appeared—strange, but not disturbing at all.
Jovan glanced at her. "Funny, huh?"
"Huh?"
"You're smiling."
"Oh, yeah." Nayara squinted at the ceiling. "It's just weird… a round ball can get stuck. It's supposed to roll."
Jovan laughed softly. "It's rare for you to pay attention."
Nayara rolled her eyes and walked toward the student council room. "I'll go inside first, okay?"
But before the door closed, she glanced back briefly. Raka was still on the field, helping Dimas retrieve a ball that had gotten stuck, laughing at the same thing for the umpteenth time.
Outside, Raka also glanced toward the corridor where Nayara had been standing. It was only a glance, but enough to leave a small mark—a quiet interest starting to grow in both directions.