I don't know who first decided that my life had to come as a package deal with Raka.
What I do know is that it wasn't a healthy decision.
And it probably wasn't made by a sane person, either.
Because if there's one thing I can be sure of in this world, it's this: Raka isn't just my neighbor.
He's a permanent nuisance.
“Res, where are you?”
“At home.”
“Come out.”
“Why?”
“I'm bored.”
“So?”
“Keep me company.”
“I'm bored too.”
“Then let's be bored together.”
That was the first conversation I remember having with him.
And from that moment on, for some reason, he acted like my life was a public space.
Anyone could enter it whenever they wanted.
Without permission.
Without a shred of guilt.
If I was relaxing, he'd show up.
If I was studying, he'd bother me.
If I was eating, he'd ask for some.
If I was angry, he'd laugh.
And the most annoying part?
He always went home with the expression of someone who'd just won a war.
Even though all he'd done was steal an eraser.
Or drink my iced tea.
Or sit on my motorcycle without permission.
“You're such a pest,” I told him one day.
“I'm more of a virus,” he replied proudly.
“What’s the difference?”
“I spread.”
And he laughed.
I wanted to punch him that day.
But I didn't.
Not because I'm a good person.
Because I was tired.
Tired of dealing with someone who only got more energetic whenever I got mad at him.
Weird, right?
People like that should be avoided.
But the problem was, Raka wasn't someone I could avoid.
He lived next door to me.
He went to the same school.
Sometimes we were even in the same class.
Our friends had given up on us a long time ago, too.
Even the teachers at school had a special expression whenever the two of us walked into class together.
The “Oh God, not again” expression.
And what was even worse?
Our friend group.
At first, they were normal.
Seriously.
Normal.
Until we showed up.
Now?
Dimas placed bets every day.
Salsa became a commentator on our lives.
Everyone else just watched like they were streaming a free drama series.
“I'll bet fifty thousand rupiah they don't argue today,” Dimas said.
“I'm in,” Salsa replied.
Five minutes later:
“RAKA, GIVE ME THAT BACK!”
“NO!”
“I'VE BEEN SAYING THAT'S MINE THIS WHOLE TIME!”
“YEAH, BUT I'M THE ONE HOLDING IT NOW!”
Dimas immediately fell silent.
Salsa immediately smiled.
“Transfer it.”
And everyone laughed.
Except the teacher.
The teacher just shook his head.
Slowly.
For a long time.
Like he'd already given up on fate.
And maybe that was exactly what had happened.
Because honestly, even I didn't know when everything had started becoming like this.
At first, it was just little things.
But somehow, those little things grew.
They became habits.
They became routines.
They became… life.
And in the middle of all that chaos, there was one thing I realized later on.
If Raka was gone for even a single day…
I actually felt weird.
And that was what scared me the most.
Not him.
My habit of having him around.
Because that habit was slowly turning into something bigger.
Something I hadn't given a name to yet.
Until, finally, that one word appeared.
And ruined everything.
Marriage.
And for some reason, it wasn't because we'd been matched up. It wasn't because of some neat, tidy love story, either. It was because Raka, in the most absurd way I'd ever seen, decided all on his own that it had to happen.