The school library was unusually full today, though the atmosphere remained silent, except for the sound of gently turning pages and careful footsteps among the bookshelves. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting shadows across the desks.
Nayara sat at the center table with Nisa and Jovan. In front of her were several open books, complete with small scribbles on notebook paper. Nisa scribbled while biting the tip of a pen, while Jovan busily flipped through the pages of his math textbook.
The silence was broken when a male student approached. Without a word, he placed a can of cold drink directly in front of Nayara. The click of the aluminum can was clearly audible in the silence.
Nayara looked up at the student. A smile spread across his face.
"For you," he said quickly, then turned away before anyone could respond.
The can was still covered in condensation, with a small yellow sticky note on it. In crooked handwriting, it read:
"Keep your spirits up, Nayara."
Many pairs of eyes watched the scene unfold. Some were holding back smiles, some were whispering softly, and others were pretending to look at their books.
Nisa tilted her head, holding back laughter. "Hey, it's still early in the morning, but someone's already encouraging you. So sweet," she said softly, her eyes gleaming playfully.
Jovan looked up from his book. His gaze fell directly on the can. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were clearly displeased. No words were needed to understand his feelings.
Nayara stared at the can for a moment, then returned to her book. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened. She wasn't surprised anymore.
A few seconds later, an even more tense silence enveloped the place again..
Not because of the library atmosphere, but because of another figure who had just stood up from a table on the right side of the room.
Raka.
He closed his book, stood up, and walked slowly toward Nayara's table. Dimas, who was sitting with him, just stared at him in confusion.
Raka's footsteps were quiet, but they did make a few heads turn. He stopped beside Nayara's table, his eyes fixed on the drink can.
Not a word came out.
With a calm, sure movement, he picked up the can.
Everyone stared, including Nayara, who looked up in surprise.
One pull, three steps, and a small metallic clank sounded as the can landed in the trash can in the corner of the room.
Everyone's eyes froze.
Even the old ceiling fan seemed to pause for a moment.
Nisa's eyes widened, holding her breath.
Jovan sat up straight in his chair, his face unreadable—a mixture of shock, distaste, and something else.
Nayara simply stared at Raka's back, confused by what had just happened.
Raka left the room without looking back. The wooden door slid open slowly behind him.
Only after the door closed did a small whisper spread quickly.
"Did you see that just now?"
"That was Raka, wasn't it?"
"Oh my, what's wrong with him?" Nisa asked, astonished.
Jovan stared at the empty table in front of him, a smile slowly appearing, but it wasn't a warm one.
"Raka, huh?" he said flatly. "Interesting."
The voice was soft, but enough for Nayara to hear it. She didn't respond, simply looking down at the book in front of her, her eyes not reading anything.
Several minutes passed before soft footsteps were heard again from the door.
Raka entered again, this time carrying a bottle of cold mineral water. No cute label, no sweet message, just a plain bottle.
He stopped in front of Nayara's desk and placed the bottle there.
Again, no words were spoken, only their eyes locked for a moment.
Without waiting for a reaction, Raka turned back to his desk, as if nothing had happened.
The room fell silent again. Only the sound of the fan was too loud for them. Then the din returned—faint whispers, soft laughter, and curious glances.
Dimas stared at him wide-eyed. "Bro, did you realize everyone was staring at you just now?"
"Let it be," Raka replied without looking up from his book.
Nisa turned to Nayara again, whispering with a grin. "Crazy... it's only been five minutes, and there's already been two theatrical acts."
Nayara lowered her head, a small smile forming on her lips. "Nis, please don't make a fuss."
"Me? Here, the whole room's making a fuss," Nisa pointed around. "If that's not jealousy, I don't know what is."
Nayara didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the water bottle. She didn't touch it with her hand, but with her gaze.
On the other side of the room, Raka seemed preoccupied with the book in his hand. He acted indifferent after leaving Nayara the victim of everyone's stares.
I don't know why he did that, but I'm happy, Nayara thought to herself.
Meanwhile, Jovan closed his book with a loud thud—not loud enough to get the librarian to scold him, but enough to make Nisa and Nayara turn their heads.
He stood up and gathered his belonging with stiff movements. "I'll go first," he said flatly, then left before Nayara could answer.
Nisa watched Jovan's retreating back, then turned to Nayara with half concerned, half mischievous. "Nay, that's jealous season two."
Nayara remained silent. She knew Jovan must be jealous, but Nayara never gave any ambiguous signals, and Jovan should have known that.
She glanced at the water bottle in front of her once more. Yes, Jovan have known it.