The requests I got to make hair clips kept piling up, so I followed Mrs. Jannah’s suggestion. At the next club meeting, I asked the members to help me, to which they wholeheartedly accepted.

Ever since then, the handicraft club started to produce hair clip designs. More or less, it becomes a source of income for the club. It also makes the club more popular and draws more members. At first, it was just me and Jiwo, but now there are 7 freshmen in the club, including us.

And then, as if time had been skipped even though it is not, August came. The eighth month of the year is pretty eventful since the independence day of Indonesia is marked on the 17th of August. However, even from the start of August, people start to decorate the neighborhood with our beloved national flag.

Our school is no exception. The student council seemed busy going here and there beautifying the school by hanging small red-white flags on strings across every part of the school.

As part of the tradition, the student council held various competitions on the 16th, eligible for every student. The competitions are as follows: Krupuk-eating race, marble in spoon race, sack race, and tug of war.

Every class representative was informed about the details and was tasked to inform each of their classmates. Indah, as the representative of our class, told us about this in front of the class during recess, opening up a discussion to pick the entree for each competition.

“So, if anyone’s willing to participate in one of the competitions, please raise your hand,” Indah said.

I thought that this would be a great moment to make a good impression, so I raised my hand with full-blown passion.

Indah pointed at me with just as much vigor, and said, “Yes, Uril?”

“I’m joining the tug of war.” I declared confidently.

I could faintly hear some classmates go ‘oooh’ upon my declaration.

Indah turned her body towards the whiteboard and wrote my name. Then she said, “Nice. Now we need four more men for the tug of war.”

I nudged Kevin with my elbow, to which he turned his head. Then I said to him in a whisper, “How about joining the tug of war with me?”

“Erm, I prefer not to participate...” He said, expressing his reluctance.

However, I haven’t given up on persuading him. “Come now, you’re among the... Strongest in the class. We’ll surely win if you join.” I said.

“Hm...” Kevin mumbled, deciding whether he should give in or not. It wasn’t long until he raised his hand and spoke, “Er, I’ll be joining the tug of war... Maybe.”

Upon hearing Kevin, Indah immediately wrote his name.

“Thanks, Kevin,” I said to him.

One by one, the students showed their enthusiasm. Some of them nominate themselves for a competition, while some others nominate another classmate for a competition. A small dispute happened when more than one person chose to join the same competition, but it got resolved pretty quickly. When the next class started, the discussion had already been resolved a few minutes before.

 

****

 

The competition on August 16th started with the opening speech by the student council president and the principal on the school field. Every student present was lining up tidily in front of the principal and the teachers in their tracksuits. As soon as the opening ceremony ended, the students immediately dispersed to the side of the field to watch the contests.

The first event to take hold was the classic Krupuk-eating race and the tug of war. Since our school field’s as big as half a soccer field, it was possible for two events to be held at the same time, divided by a long bench. I went towards the tug of war section with my classmates and waited for our turn.

“Tug of war, first round! 1-A-A versuuuuus 1-B-A!!” Said the announcer with a fiery passion.

Hearing our class getting announced, me and the boys took our step into the center of the crowd. The opposing team also stepped on the opposite side. My eyes widened when I saw one of their members: Arok.

I’m not sure how to react to this situation and could only stare at him as I do a warming up. He was also staring at me in hostility with a furrowed brow and a frown.

“Participants, please get in your position.” The announcer directed.

I and the other four members of our class lined up and took the thick rope readied by the student council, with me at the nearest position from the opposing side. Arok was standing directly 1 meter before me, being the frontline of his group. Right in the middle between us was a black tape to determine the winner. Whichever team that stepped on the tape, loses.

“I’ll embarrass you in front of everyone,” Arok said to me menacingly.

“Try it if you can.” I challenged him, with a voice not less intimidating.

“Ready...” The announcer said slowly, tensing up our muscles. “START!”

In just a split second, the rope we were holding on tensed up, and a strong force from class 1-B-A tried to pull us. In retaliation, our class put a similarly mighty force.

“Raaaah!” someone from behind my back shouted a battle cry to increase our strength.

The audience cheered, but I couldn’t make a clear distinction between the voices since I was too focused on pulling the rope.

Our positions were at an impasse for what felt like an eternity, but then it was broken when it started to lean in our favor. Class 1-B-A started to lose strength.

Step by step, Arok was getting closer to the black tape in the middle. He and his classmates were trying their hardest to stay away from it, as evident by their veins popping up on their arms and face. Alas, it was impossible. Arok stepped on the black tape, deciding the victor of the first round.

The announcer stepped in between two teams and gestured his hand in a cutting motion. “Round finished!” He declared.

The pulling force from both sides vanished in an instant as soon as we heard the concluding statement by the announcer.

Everyone who watched our spectacle was applauding vigorously in conjunction with the announcement, “First round winner! Class 1-A-A!!”

Upon hearing the declaration, both teams started to shake each other’s hands. When I was about to shake Arok’s hand, he gripped my already red palm powerfully, which made my face twitch in pain.

“What a sore loser.” I cursed, but Arok could only show a sinister smile.

Our team went into the spectator area, and I was greeted by a small towel flying into my head.

“Congratulations.” Said a girly voice I was familiar with.

“Thanks,” I responded, taking away the towel from blocking my view, and saw Indah.

Since all 24 classes in the school participated in the competition, it takes approximately 30 minutes until our team's next round, so I decided to see how our class fared in the Krupuk-eating race. “Wanna go over there?” I invited Indah.

“Yeah, Let’s.” She said.

We went past the cheering crowd over to the other venue and saw the entrees trying their hardest to eat the Krupuk hung on a string. Since this was an individual race, eight students from different classes were competing at the same time.

I looked at the participants one by one and couldn’t see a member of my class, so I asked Indah, “Where’s Shakira?”

“Supposedly her turn comes after this.” She answered.

Our class delegated Shakira because of the fact she was the tallest in the class. However, the student council did a very good job to make the competition as fair as possible; each individual will have their strings adjusted at 10 centimeters above their head. It means that the determining factor to win the race is the ability to finish the crunchy snack as fast as possible.

“How was it?” Indah asked as a way to buy time until the next round starts.

I immediately assumed that she was talking about the tug of war, so I replied, “The opposing team was quite strong, but ours is stronger. I’m confident that our class will win.”

“That’s good and all, but what I meant was facing Arok,” Indah said, correcting her question.

I recalled the unpleasant event that transpired a few moments before, and said, “That jerk was squeezing my hand too hard.”

“Really? Give me your hand.” She said. Without waiting for my reply, she took my hand that was shaken by Arok and started massaging my palm.

It happened too suddenly, so I didn’t have the time to respond. The sensation of her small fingers pressing against my skin made me a bit worked up, so I looked the other way to hide my embarrassment from Indah. I also covered my cheeks using the towel she gave me for extra concealment.

“Does it feel better?” She asked after she was done with her massage.

“Yes, it does,” I answered frantically.

Suddenly, an announcement was made.

“All participants have finished! Please give them a round of applause!” Declared the announcer for the Krupuk-eating race as the spectators clap their hands merrily. The announcer then said, “Now, for the next participants, please come forward!”

“Uril, look, it’s Shakira!” Indah said as she shook my body. “Shakiraaaa! Do your best!” She shouted right beside me.

However, my mind couldn’t focus on the spectacle before my eyes anymore. Instead, my father’s words echoed inside my head: “Remember, no romance in high school.”