The clock on the classroom wall showed 10:20 when Gilang began to lose focus.
For a while now, his eyes had kept moving from the whiteboard to his notebook, then back to the whiteboard without actually understanding what the professor at the front of the class was explaining.
Gilang was simply sleepy. He'd gone to bed at almost two in the morning because he'd spent too long on his phone after finishing his assignment.
He yawned softly.
The friend beside him immediately nudged his arm.
“Don’t fall asleep.”
Gilang turned to him.
“Who’s falling asleep?”
“Your eyes.”
“That’s just how my eyes are.”
His friend chuckled. His name was Dimas, one of the friends Gilang had spent the most time with since the beginning of college. They often sat together, ate together, and worked on assignments together.
“Lang,” Dimas whispered again.
“Hm?”
“Got a pen?”
Gilang pulled a pen from his bag and handed it over.
“Don’t lose it.”
“What if I do?”
“Replace it.”
“It’s not about the price. You have a habit of never giving things back when you borrow them.”
Dimas looked at the pen and raised an eyebrow.
“A five-thousand-rupiah pen?”
Dimas held back a laugh.
Gilang smiled too.
That was how things went almost every day on campus.
There was nothing particularly special about Gilang’s life. He went to class, attended his courses, worked on assignments, ate at the cafeteria, then returned to his rented room toward evening.
Sometimes he went out with his friends. Sometimes he spent time alone in the library.
“All right,” the professor’s voice finally became clearer. “For next week’s assignment, form groups of three.”
The mood in the classroom immediately changed. Several students began calling out to one another. Dimas turned to Gilang. “We’re in one group.” Gilang nodded. “Find one more person.” “Nisa.”
Dimas pointed to a girl sitting several rows in front of them. “Nisa!”
The girl turned around.
“What?”
“Want to join our group?”
Nisa looked at Gilang, then at Dimas.
“If you two are serious about doing the work.”
Gilang answered immediately, “I’m serious.”
Dimas stared at him.
“Serious?”
“Serious about avoiding a bad grade.”
Nisa laughed.
“Sure.”
After class ended, the three of them walked to the cafeteria. The campus was getting busier as students moved from one class to another.
Gilang liked an atmosphere like that. Busy, but not too exhausting. He could be anyone in this place. No one cared too much about other people’s lives, and Gilang found that comforting.
They found an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria.
“Lang, what are you eating?” Dimas asked.
“Whatever.”
“That’s always your answer.”
“Because I really don’t know what I want to eat.”
Nisa laughed.
“Yesterday you had two servings of seblak.”
“That was in the past.”
They laughed together before returning to the faculty building for their next class.
Time passed without them noticing.
Toward late afternoon, Gilang walked toward the parking lot with his bag slung over his shoulder.
Dimas ran after him.
“Lang!”
Gilang turned around.
“Don’t forget the group assignment tomorrow.”
“Relax.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“What if you forget?”
Gilang put on his helmet.
“Pretend I’m sick.”
Dimas laughed.
“You’re hopeless.”
Gilang started his motorcycle.
Before leaving, he glanced back toward the college campus. Several students were still sitting on the steps, while distant chatter and laughter drifted over from far away.
Everything felt ordinary.
And maybe that was how it was supposed to be.
That night, in his rented room, Gilang opened his laptop to work on his assignment.
A few minutes later, he opened social media instead.
A message from Dimas came in.
“Don’t forget the assignment, future college graduate.”
Gilang smiled and sent back a short reply.
“Tomorrow.”
He closed the laptop.
He turned off the light.
Gilang lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Nothing had happened that day.
And maybe, he thought, life really was supposed to be that simple.
He didn’t yet know that the simple life he was living would one day change.
That there was a village holding a part of his life he had never truly remembered all this time.
A village called Antajaya. But that night wasn’t the time yet. That night, Gilang simply slept. As usual.