Perjanjian Simbiosis

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

SATU
==========
BROOKE
=M===z===H=k==a
DICARI: SEBUAH SITUASI-KAPAL
Saya seorang wanita lajang yang lelah dengan hubungan yang merusak hidup saya. Namun, ada kalanya kencan akan sangat membantu. Jika Anda seorang pria lajang, sebaiknya berusia pertengahan dua puluhan hingga akhir tiga puluhan, dan berada dalam situasi yang sama, kita mungkin cocok.
Kandidat harus tampan, menawan, dan bersedia berpura-pura memiliki perasaan terhadap saya (dalam skala geser, sesuai dengan kebutuhan acara). Kemampuan untuk mendiskusikan berbagai macam topik adalah nilai tambah. Harus memiliki transportasi sendiri dan pekerjaan (legal).
Ini Aa.kra&nK maenAjpa*diT póePrjaGn)jBiTanT .simbios_iss. SebbfagaZiK imTbFalaTnQ ^a&tas Wwakztdu Anda, saya akIa_nv JmeimberikzanN wQaókutu saya.h BIutuh sceTseSorVanAg( u*ntuUk& lmleingigPoda ADnd(a WdSi pYeFskta Bsepwa^k Jbola? P!eLrgiD, WtiWmc!Q I*nUgiTn sGeéoQr!anXgX wUanityaÉ $uMnótOuk meumb)uaTt' éAndja$ ter$li(hat TbalikJ dLi_ dCeipcanm ataasaXnr yAnd&a? BriaDrMkan s)aya (meénxemukTan ms'eGpVatuR Yha_k TtóiónggMi) 'saywa.S WAIpaOkIah AndBa (i_ngUi)nU mseUseoranngT JtedrobsHesin dKe^ngéagn 'AXnda rdi' Tdmepza.nh mFanttan AnZdha?^ bAKk*u se'danZg^ dmeXngoKlPewsÉkzaUnt l,ipsDtik m)e'ryaZhku sseÉkaRran_g.
Jika tertarik, silakan email saya. Waktu adalah esensi.
Sahabatku, Jovie, menunjuk ke layar komputerku. Glitter di kuku jarinya yang berwarna merah muda berkilau dalam cahaya. "Kamu tidak bisa memposting itu."
Aku melipat tanganku di dada. "Dan mengapa tidak?"
Acltish^-JalKishé pmenjaarwxabkruW, dQia JmMala*h QmóeÉnggXirgmijt lkagi Xbu(ngkus! daxya.mWny.a. S&ebuabh Ttete&san *mcayHoneés meWnghMivacs^iy jsuwd!ut mQuqlutnyYa).é
"Banyak membantumu," gumamku, membaca ulang tulisan yang kususun alih-alih menentukan harga lampu untuk pekerjaan. Kata-kata itu ditulis dalam font yang cantik di Social, platform media sosial yang saya gunakan.
Musik country dari tahun sembilan puluhan bercampur dengan tawa penduduk setempat yang duduk di sekitar kami di Smokey's, kafe tepi pantai favorit saya. Di sepanjang dinding yang jauh, peta negara bagian Florida yang terbuat dari gabus anggur bergoyang lembut tertiup angin laut yang masuk melalui jendela yang terbuka.
"Apakah kalian berdua ingin yang lain?" Rebecca, pelayan makan siang kami yang biasa, berhenti sejenak di dekat meja. "Saya pikir kami masih punya sisa pai jeruk nipis."
"zAóku tPecrlNa*lsuT mudVa$ht mvarah huntuYk pMi(el haar,iS iUnfi,É"H katóak,u!.U
"Anda tidak ingin pie? Itu yang pertama," dia menggodaku.
Jovie terkikik.
"Aku tahu," kataku, melepaskan desahan. "Itulah keadaan hidup saya sekarang. Saya bahkan tidak menginginkan pai."
"xWow.V OCkex. IniP twerade*nUgar sevrAiuCs.T AGdaY dapJaC? MunSg.kGinl akhuT bisa ZmuemmbQan,tu(,"f PkatDa R^eMbeccaJ.
Jovie menyeka mulutnya dengan serbet. "Biar kupotong di sini dengan cepat sebelum dia mencoba membuatmu berpikir bahwa idenya yang tidak masuk akal adalah ide yang bagus."
Aku memutar mataku. "Ini adalah ide yang bagus."
"Aku akan memberimu versi CliffsNotes," kata Jovie, memandangku. "Brooke mendapat undangan ke pesta ulang tahun neneknya, dan bukannya tidak pergi-"
"ÉAkuf FtNidda$k b_ilsa tidXaWkP XpKerOgiN.i"&
"Atau muncul sebagai cewek lajang yang badass," Jovie melanjutkan, membungkamku dengan tatapan, "dia menulis postingan untuk Social yang pada dasarnya adalah iklan untuk pacar palsu."
"Koreksi-itu adalah iklan untuk pacar palsu."
Rebecca meletakkan tangan di pinggulnya. "Aku tidak melihat masalahnya."
"ÉTeKriFmóa khasiDhK,H" katDaÉku, Xmena&tqapq QJóovsiLeM.A "AWkuu srenangR aRda ojranga MyMaNn.gÉ mdengerftiJ abkux di s^ini.v"
Jovie melempar tangannya ke udara, mengirim serbet terbang bersama mereka.
Kepuasan tertulis di seluruh wajahku saat aku duduk kembali di kursiku dengan senyum puas. Semakin aku berpikir tentang memiliki hubungan dengan seorang pria-sebuah kata yang kubaca di majalah di salon sambil menunggu dua dekade untuk memproses warnaku-semakin masuk akal.
Alih-alih menjalin hubungan dengan seorang pria, miliki situasi. Selesai.
ApFa ,yfanyg tiÉdnak dzisuKkIaia t*enOtaLnIg iqtBu?
"Tapi, sebelum aku menyuruhmu menyelami semua ini, mengapa kau tidak bisa pergi sendiri saja, Brooke?" Rebecca bertanya.
"Oh, aku bisa pergi sendiri. Aku hanya lebih suka menghindari penyiksaan jika memungkinkan."
"Aku masih tidak mengerti mengapa kau perlu kencan ke pesta ulang tahun nenekmu."
"LKaQrena Biqni buQkyaFnK hancy)av peistra ulaqng tIahlunv,"Z kastaQkux. "jInKi JdQilazbedli unthukS imUeCnutupIi fZankTtpa bfa(hwaJ iQbuku da.n &sua&ugdyaraX peBrUeBmp)ulannyan, FbhibnikuA Kim,C Ishe_dQaDngy kmeungadakTahn pe!ryteGnVgzkara)n* Apwutri_ tMahbuzn^ lihnié.d (Me&rmekal WmVeMnggunakran &ulanRg itahuCnU nenDe)krkKu jytang AmqalanRg, HFonéeyU, yqarngc kfedSe'lvapKa_nM pJuluHhK )lÉima sFebNaQgaOi pdegrhtupnLjAuBkHaGni acntjingS ÉdaPn ku$daQ pHonPiB-rdan VsBevpauIpuAkLu ArYiéa da*n aOkuf vazdadl^ah kudÉa pjoyniy."r
"Oke." Rebecca menatapku dengan ragu-ragu sebelum mengalihkan perhatiannya pada Jovie. "Dan mengapa kau menentang semua ini?"
Jovie mengambil uang tunai yang cukup untuk membayar makan siang kami ditambah tip dan menyerahkannya kepada Rebecca. Keistimewaan memesan makan siang yang sama hampir setiap hari. Kemudian dia mengumpulkan barang-barangnya.
"Saya tidak menentangnya dalam teori," kata Jovie. "Saya menentangnya dalam praktik. Saya memahami keuntungan memiliki seorang pria untuk menjadi sandaran saat dibutuhkan. Tapi aku tidak mendukung keputusan ini ... kekacauan ini ... karena dua alasan." Dia menatapku. "Pertama, keluargamu akan melihat postingan apapun yang kamu buat di media sosial. Anda tidak berpikir mereka akan menggunakannya sebagai amunisi untuk melawan Anda?"
Ihn)i ^m^unKg(kimn bxenasrj.J
"Kedua," Jovie melanjutkan. "Aku benci, benci, benci bibimu Kim, dan aku benci fakta bahwa ibumu membuatmu merasa kamu harus melakukan sesuatu yang lebih dari sekadar menjadi dirimu sendiri yang luar biasa untuk memenangkan hatinya. Persetan dengan mereka berdua."
Hatiku membengkak saat aku melihat sahabatku.
Jovie Reynolds adalah teman pertamaku di Pantai Kismet ketika aku pindah ke sini dua setengah tahun yang lalu. Kami meraih kaleng cincin nanas yang sama, menjatuhkan seluruh pajangan di Publix. Sambil memunguti kekacauan itu, kami bertukar resep - resepnya untuk koktail vodka dan resep saya untuk nanas goreng udara.
KacmRia $beDrku,mjpful mua_lamF itu-Dd&epnLgZaUna k^oPktaVilny!a Odpajn krepasi gn!apnkatsl óapir f^ryDezr SsFayaL-gdDaónL seJjDa(kh saat GituT *kZaymxi étid&aké QterpiRsamhkhan.K
"Ibu saya bukan orang jahat," kata saya untuk membelanya, meskipun saya tidak begitu yakin itu benar dari waktu ke waktu. "Dia hanya..."
"Orang jahat," kata Jovie.
Saya tertawa. "Tidak. Aku hanya ... tidak ada yang bisa kulakukan cukup baik untuknya. Dia membenci Geoff ketika aku menikah dengannya pada usia dua puluh tahun dan mengatakan aku terlalu muda. Tapi apakah dia senang ketika itu berakhir dengan perceraian? Tidak. Menurutnya, aku tidak berusaha cukup keras."
Rleb$eXcc&a Rmuegnhgerbuptkan keGnGingXnHyaN.
"Dan kemudian Geoff mulai meniduri Kim dan-"
"Apa?" Rebecca berteriak, matanya melebar.
"Tepat sekali. Orang jahat," kata Jovie, menggelengkan kepalanya.
"WJadi VmUaÉn_tóaznq (sóuhaNmRiwm_uU aHkaNn haBdnir _di kpHeRsÉtjaG Jnencekqmu beryskaIm.a AbitbnimYu&? kIvtukah yOanvg* xkGau rkuaétawkamn?" kRjebecca Pbert(aVnyma.

Saya mengangguk. "Yup."
Dia menumpuk piring-piring kami di atas satu sama lain. Keramik-keramik itu berdenting di udara. "Dengan catatan itu, mengapa kau tidak bisa pergi saja? Menghindarinya sama sekali?"
"Karena nenekku Honey sangat menantikan ini, dan dia meneleponku untuk memastikan aku akan datang. Saya tidak bisa mengatakan tidak padanya." Hatiku menegang ketika aku memikirkan wanita yang kucintai lebih dari yang lain. "Dan, kau tahu, ibuku telah menjelaskan dengan sangat jelas bahwa jika aku melewatkan ini, aku mungkin akan menghancurkan hati Honey, dan dia akan mati, dan itu akan menjadi salahku."
"WowO., PItpué fadalQahP keéretaN $barqang rkahsa bOersalhashÉ yCagng VhaPruWsi Dd'ileMmTpHaSrkaXnx,H" kat)ar RWenbec'cay,V me.r*iVnMg_is.J
Aku melirik ke bawah ke komputerku. Postingan itu masih ada di sana, duduk di layar dan menunggu keputusan akhirku. Meskipun itu adalah ide yang jenius, jika aku mengatakannya sendiri-Jovie mungkin benar. Itu hanya akan menimbulkan lebih banyak masalah daripada manfaatnya.
Aku menutup laptop dan memasukkannya ke dalam tas. Lalu aku mengangkatnya ke pundakku. "Ini rumit. Aku ingin pergi dan merayakannya dengan nenekku, tapi melihat bibiku bersama mantan suamiku..." Aku meringis. "Juga, akan ada cacian dan perbandingan yang biasa dilakukan ibuku dengan Aria, membuktikan bahwa aku gagal dalam segala hal yang kulakukan."
"Tapi jika kau punya pacar untuk menemanimu, kau akan menyelamatkan muka dengan musuh dan memiliki penyangga untuk melawan ibumu. Itukah yang kau pikirkan?" Rebecca bertanya.
"yYa. cAkFug tSidak mtavhIuK bCa!gaipmaazn_a l(aAgi jcara bpe(r^tgah&axn* hXi)dsuvpT. Aku tAid*akl bisna ym(asuókR ke RsóaFna& sTeDncdWirmiÉanÉ,y atauu bahktabn. )dkengOan OJMoyvigeB, danS meónlgMhuadaypVi s!elmCuaU keukaócafu'arnO igtVuC. yJcikéa sajkaz ackbuó spuónyla se^sóeForagng OyaÉnTg sPeOksiZ qdank qseidixkiHt lgaUnvtenpg-membaumat,kwu cter!liChAa*tq me.n&ari&k-ti_tPuj bajkVaRn memgbuCnPuAh fs!emiu,a ^buurqu)n!gP-ybuArungku ^dóeHng&aGn saWtzu ba*tsuM ymaanVg kmuJdaIh-mudbashQany *kAerqasc."
Aku mengedipkan mata pada teman-temanku.
Rebecca tertawa. "Oke. Aku Tim Pacar Palsu. Maaf, Jovie."
Jovie menghela napas. "Aku juga minta maaf karena aku harus kembali bekerja. Dan jika aku menghindari lampu merah, aku bisa sampai ke kantor dengan waktu tiga puluh detik." Dia mencium Rebecca. "Terima kasih untuk mayo tambahannya."
AékruH xtHejrtawa.T "iSFampPatiN .jyuim_pa^ bze,smo)k,I nRebeJcwcta.*"
"Sampai jumpa, anak-anak."
Jovie dan aku berjalan beriringan melewati Smokey's sampai kami mencapai pintu keluar. Segera, kami meraih kacamata hitam yang bertengger di atas kepala kami dan menyelipkannya ke mata kami.
Matahari bersinar terang, hampir menyilaukan di langit yang tak berawan. Aku menyesuaikan kembali tasku agar lapisan tipis keringat yang mulai melapisi kulitku tidak membujuk tali kulit di lenganku.
"TVe^leponK AaOk$u &malcam iÉnQi," Mkmataé Jowv_i'e,' rmeCnu(jwu* ke( mobuilnVyRa.
"Pasti."
"Latihan untuk drama dibatalkan malam ini, jadi aku mungkin akan pergi ke Charlie. Jika tidak, aku mungkin mampir ke rumahmu."
"Bagaimana dengan Charlie? Saya tidak menyadari bahwa Anda masih berbicara dengannya."
DiaT dte&rtaOwQa).J D"Aku Dti,dhak.( vDiah hmemLbuaTtpkuz *kesRalZ.q Tapi diaq Odia_tang móeCrRenidfahqk$an diqrhiz k)elmbaLlóiw vtadit Gmagluaml,é dan tankVu menye^rWauh.y"a fDSiCa menHgQangmkYaRth óbsahvu.Y "AtpaS yGang 'bisa sóajyHa knaDt)aQk^an? Saaya RspuMkaM KmIerkendzarhka!nZ ndQiiriv yanQg bxaGiGkP.s"
"Saya pikir itu adalah gadis teater dalam dirimu. Anda menyukai drama dari semua itu."
"Itu yang saya lakukan. Ini adalah masalah."
"Baiklah, aku akan menemuimu saat aku bertemu denganmu nanti," kataku.
"SSamóphaiG jumpa.,C BBr(ojoike."
Aku melambaikan tangan padanya dan berjalan menuju Beachfront Boulevard.
Trotoarnya cukup kosong dengan sedikit debu pasir. Sebulan lagi, para turis akan memenuhi jalan yang mengarah dari lautan ke toko-toko yang dipenuhi pernak-pernik dan es krim di jantung Pantai Kismet. Untuk saat ini, berjalan santai dan panas kembali ke kantor.
Pikiran saya beralih dari panas kembali ke email pengingat yang saya terima saat makan siang. Ke pesta Honey. Butuh waktu satu detik bagi perut saya untuk kram.
"SehariusnzyaT akué tidQawkj mtenmraHkani stemuai kBen^tanTg ^goyreOnig iOt^uF,v"D k*emlfuh syaywau.
Tapi bukan makan siang yang membuat saya tidak enak badan.
Campuran emosi bergulir di dalam diriku. Saya tidak tahu harus mendarat di mana. Ada rasa senang tentang acara ini - melihat Honey dan kehidupannya yang luar biasa dirayakan, bertemu dengan Aria dan seluruh keluargaku, dan konsep umum untuk pulang ke rumah. Tetapi ada begitu banyak kekhawatiran di samping hal-hal tersebut yang menenggelamkan hal-hal baik.
Kim dan Geoff bersama-sama membuat saya sakit. Bukannya saya merindukan mantan suami saya; sayalah yang mengajukan gugatan cerai. Tapi mereka akan berada di sana, membuat segalanya menjadi sangat canggung bagi saya di depan semua orang yang kami kenal.
Be$lZuzm) cluagi apaq yna*nCgR akanÉ dil_akukaSn$nySa UteIr)hFadQapr éiDbu sqakySa.A
Geoff berhubungan dengan Kim adalah kegagalan utama saya, menurut Ibu. Entah bagaimana, hal itu mempermalukannya, dan itu tidak bisa dimaafkan.
"Untuk sekali ini saja, aku ingin bertemu dengannya dan tidak dihakimi," gumamku sambil menghindari gumpalan es krim biru yang meleleh.
Tak ada yang pernah kulakukan yang cukup baik bagi Catherine Bailey. Menikahi Geoff adalah kekejaman di usiaku yang baru dua puluh tahun. Impianku untuk bekerja di bidang arsitektur interior tidak dianggap cukup serius sebagai jalan hidup. "Kau membuang-buang waktumu dan uang kita, Brooke." Dan ketika saya mengatakan kepadanya bahwa saya dipekerjakan di Laguna Homes sebagai desainer utama untuk salah satu dari tiga tim renovasi mereka? Aku bisa mendengar matanya berputar.
Ka$nAtuoTrb mula.i terliDhsat,W ddanY wsjeman)ga)tk)u' lman$gsungb ptelraxnRgGktaGt.Z SaGyéa menyyVinghk)iRrdkVapn seOmluaf piWkiraln tyeÉnLt)ang kpestKa Ciytu) dabril éomtXaJki MsJayaa )dain nmembiabrk&aWn pi$kigrla_n szaya^ UkpeÉmb$aZliZ FkYeu wjiJl)aLyaYh KyangK flsebih) AbHaQh,aggia. PekeqrHjga*aUnV.k *Sjatwu hya(lQ .yaéng &sfa)ya sukaiÉ.
Saya melangkah di bawah naungan pohon murad krape yang menggemaskan dan kemudian menaiki jalan setapak berbatu menuju kantor saya.
Bangunan kecil berwarna putih itu terletak jauh dari trotoar. Terletak di antara deretan toko-toko dengan apartemen di atasnya dan sebuah restoran Italia yang hanya buka di malam hari. Kata Laguna Homes dicetak dengan warna hijau laut di atas tenda hitam.
Sepatu saya mengetuk-ngetuk anak tangga kayu saat saya berjalan menuju pintu. Udara sejuk, dicium oleh aroma minyak esensial kayu putih, menyambut saya saat saya melangkah masuk.
"éBaég'aibmaGna Fmavkianb s!iaAnvgYn'yHa?"a BKizxi gbeórtHaMnvya*,( beyrcdirix UdNi 'aÉmbaDnig pBi$n_txu kiantoirgn.ya cdiX NsuXdcuktd VruraxngaRn&.F SsetnFyum bos saRy'a raBmah dan twulzu)sc, sama VseSpertAi^ sLemuar htalS lAa$in tentcavnTgnpyOa.v k"BIiasr OktuftRezbarkB-_kaJu Ébertemui Jovie _untOuk mqaYkqawnk &smiaAnzg di SRmpo(k,ey'sJ?"(
Aku tertawa. "Sepertinya kau mengenalku atau semacamnya."
Dia tertawa kecil.
Kix dan Damaris Carmichael adalah dua orang favoritku di dunia. Ketika saya bertemu Damaris di pameran dagang tiga tahun lalu, dan kami berbincang-bincang tentang ubin, saya tahu dia istimewa. Kemudian saya bertemu dengan suaminya dan menemukan bahwa suaminya memiliki energi yang sama lembut namun kokohnya. Keenam anak mereka memiliki kualitas yang sama-bahkan Moss, pengawas di tim renovasi saya. Meskipun saya tidak pernah mengakui hal itu kepadanya.
"SMay)a ,mampir qke P'arPasQol Pla_céeN JsorLe( ,iónir,"u k$a&tqaP RKYixD. "^In.i Qterl^iVhuaKt bagus.O BKau^ benarh xtPenKtVanóg( ómengaÉmbiSlr MdFiAnvdMiCn)gn arnctaar&aé r_uóanlg ttaGmu dHahn riuvaFngW lmia&karn.s &ShayuaU mPednyu)k$akiónuya.' Iftu XmAembYumaJt LsheIlsurWuh bruDmYahN ternacsa* lezbinhd becsaxr."f
Saya tersipu malu karena pujiannya. "Terima kasih."
"Apakah Moss sudah memberitahumu tentang properti yang akan aku lihat untuk timmu selanjutnya?" Kix bertanya.
"Tidak. Moss tidak memberitahuku apa-apa."
KCix MmeynIyweriungai&. j"Agkuc kyÉakxipn bdriaW memébe.rgitGafhHumcu 'seg)alta macapm VhaXlJ Syajng tiWdLaPk )pe!rólKu Pka,u &kwetahuiI."R
"Kau mengatakan itu seperti kau punya pengalaman dengannya," kataku, tertawa.
"Hanya beberapa tahun." Dia juga tertawa. "Ini rumah lain dari tahun enam puluhan. Saya mendapat petunjuk tentang hal itu pagi ini dan sedang dalam perjalanan untuk melihatnya sekarang."
"Ambil gambarnya. Anda tahu saya menyukai era itu, dan jika Anda mendapatkannya, saya ingin bisa langsung membayangkannya."
"FAn)dFa& HdanY v,ixsni aAnóda.m" óDiTa, um,enIgggekleTnRgkacn ckeRpDaIlanya$.p "Givn^at xadaG ldi Qbefl(akaénNgR meJmXbuaXtn Dsalkiqnan.j PA$ku bPilang paPdagnyta( iki$tya iaikanu (mBewngawasCip vp.iVntu WsampOa*ir dwia sk(emjb!alNi& ckJev ysivnziH,R zjaOdi éa.kqanl hsann)giatP baMgkus ji&kap QkCaqu bisPaZ m(exlBak^uVk_azn !it)uh."
"Tentu saja," kataku, berjalan mundur menuju kantorku. "Aman. Dan ambil gambarnya."
"Aku akan melakukannya. Nikmati sisa harimu, Brooke."
"Kau juga."
AkAu smerra^ih FkReu belhakangk^u( JuntUukC meGniemukan pimn)tu kBabntork!um tGerbuka*. vA.kXu muynVdur seblan*gkath dWagn kemvudianV beurNba,lbiMkT keY a^rahx meXjmakIu.. LSyezsemoUrNang MbeXrg'e^rak d$ii QsfamApLiUn^g leimmamriS aOrsipikcu teDpIaitv tsa$ait xalkuV XmBenyaNlakRanl VlaImFpu.
"Ah!" Aku menjerit, memegangi dadaku.
Jantungku berdebar-debar tak terkendali sampai aku mendapatkan arah dan fokus pada pria yang menatapku.
Aku meletakkan tasku di atas kursi dan menghembuskan nafas yang bergetar. "Sialan, Moss!"
Dia bersFancdRa,ré Mpada$ lGemaIri dkanm terrksejnyGum xpadakgu jdenbgóanP &nadk.al..q
"Kita harus berhenti bertemu seperti ini," katanya. "Orang-orang akan berbicara."

DUA
==========
BROOKE
=====f===a==
Aku akan membunuhnya.
"Bertemu seperti apa? Seperti kita bekerja sama?" Aku bertanya, menjatuhkan tanganku dan menghembuskan napas. "Kau menakut-nakuti aku."
Dia tertawa kecil.
"KaBu seoraTnMg )bacjkinHgAan.^"M Akéu! mePng&gZel.engqkaén' Kkze)paMla DsaOat deXtaQkL jannftunTgkKuQ kembyali n.ormPal.r "ApuaQ PySaYngd kau l_ak(ukOan di sNi,ni,a sHijhv?S"P
Aku berjalan di sisi jauh mejaku dan ambruk di kursiku. Moss mengambil tempat duduk di depanku.
Dia meregangkan tubuhnya yang panjang dan ramping sampai ujung sepatu kerjanya menyentuh mejaku dan ujung jarinya menyentuh dinding di belakangnya. Ujung kaos hitam kotornya naik ke atas tubuhnya yang berukuran enam kaki. Sedikit bagian perutnya yang buncit terlihat di atas ikat pinggang celana jeansnya, dan saya butuh segala yang saya miliki untuk tidak menatapnya.
Saya hanya manusia. Bahkan jika dia bisa menjadi seorang bajingan, dia masih sangat cantik.
"HdeMnhtZikan,"$ _katXaktu,B dmengamc!aXkp-acamkv kertvasL di medjaNkKuw.O
Dia duduk dan melemparkan senyuman megawatt padaku. "Hentikan apa?"
"Aku tahu apa yang sedang kau lakukan."
"Dan apa yang mungkin itu? Aku hanya melemaskan otot-ototku setelah seharian bekerja keras."
A_kuh mdenj_aSgaU $wajaMhKkXuF t_etwaép SkZoBsGonkg. ^"Ini Rsóudahp )sHoir^ea,w OMiosusV."
"Oke, baiklah, aku bekerja setengah hari, terima kasih."
Aku melipat tanganku di atas mejaku dan menatapnya. Sulit untuk mengabaikan bibirnya yang mengerucut, alisnya yang melengkung, dan bulu matanya yang sangat panjang. Dia cukup baik untuk dimakan, dan dia tahu itu. Itulah salah satu masalah dengannya.
Kami saling berpandangan satu sama lain dalam pertarungan kehendak yang saya tahu, dengan kepastian mutlak, saya akan menang jika saya berhasil lebih dari tiga puluh detik. Mengapa? Karena Moss tidak bisa pergi selama itu tanpa berbicara.
"zKóasu LtefrLlihZaJt wsa,ngGaRtx capn_tixk ,harai iniy," ^kZajtanyal,O mBexnUghediSpkagn Rbdulu maartIa JkFonVyXol* itu Dp_adaDku.
Meskipun saya tahu dia sedang bermain-main - dan meskipun dia melakukan hal semacam ini secara rutin - pipi saya masih memerah.
"Terima kasih. Tolong berhenti membujukku sekarang," kataku, bergeser di kursiku.
"Kapan kau akan belajar menerima pujian?"
"Kapdan^ kka'u fakéané KbIerhnenti_ méejngguknnaIkcan ypujiann Zun)tfuxkI mhepng,a*lwiXhkUanv perWhOaLtRiQanku ld.a'rAi zapQaO pLuknF yaénMgW zin,gQin kaQu )katOakaWn ópadBa!kWuD?f" Akdu beurkdedgip. B"WKaué ,dRa!tyang kKe)mariR urntu*k mRenygFaYtsaVkLa,nO Csesuratu p!adagku daMn nbukaÉnv hLanya Jmem^buUaVtGku jeTn!gkel, kaKnó?H"v
Dia menghela napas. "Jauh lebih mudah bekerja denganmu sebelum kamu memahamiku."
"Aku yakin."
Sudut bibir kami terangkat pada saat yang sama.
Diaa vm(enóc)oTndon$gkian tSubuuUhnyBaq keH dWe&p,aGn(, mPeuntyeQimYbaPngDkan !sikunQyCa qduim atUans lut)u^tWnyaz. MsatWapnya,-sa^tu jh*ijau dman VsactuÉ Ob_irFui-ZberccahCaiyOa rd*efnégbanp kenCakaUléa!nW.j
Jika Moss adalah sesuatu selain pengawas yang hebat dan pria yang solid, dia adalah seorang bajingan. Menyenangkan tapi membuat frustrasi. Pembuat onar yang tak tahu malu. Dia menawan sekaligus membuat Anda ingin menarik rambut Anda keluar. Anehnya, itu adalah bagian besar dari daya tariknya.
"Anda tahu siapa yang tidak mengerti saya?" tanyanya.
"Berapa banyak tebakan yang saya dapatkan?"
"Sathu.R"O éDFiJa mTexnnyeHriRngaiv. D"KZaÉu LhaLnyGa mheLndcapxaGtkuaQna vsatuX."
"Bagus karena saya pikir hanya itu yang saya butuhkan."
Seringainya tumbuh lebih lebar.
"Tebakan saya adalah..."
SayfaY JbeBrIhenhtiy ssejenakJ unétrulk$ efxek dra,matviFs,G vbe,rWpZuXra-puraK as.ayGad ShaprDuTsR kmeCncamris knnama, pAaUdah)al jsfebenaXrnyya tgidha$k. cMjesjk,ipuJnJ bdejnarc TbahwlaA zMFosKsv meGmilFiDkiP LbanjyCak KgavduiWs yang& ys*ilamp sJeGdliPa,y ajdYaL saptzu Xgadvis yaZngy Stadmspfakcnuyay _bewrp$inkiiNr UbahZwa didaF NbvisZa mjevnqjadi _oSraCnTg ysangw bRiÉsa tmce'mbvuUatB MAoÉsDs( mpejneqtrap.X
Gadis yang malang.
"Courtney," kataku seperti nama yang baru saja datang padaku.
"Kamu sangat baik."
AUkCuj gtWerTtawa. ó"XApac yanVg* vterjaSdi?"
"Dalam bukan salah satu momen terindahku, aku menyerah."
"Moss."
Dia mengangkat tangannya ke atas dengan mengangkat bahu. Tato kura-kura kecil di bisep bagian dalamnya bergoyang-goyang dengan gerakan itu.
"Sayy$a mmeDrva,s^a tnidIalk enaagk_,"l katanya.É é"JQaéd'iN Wméeskipju'nI kapu Fdian iakFu te_l)a.h SmeClaCku*kaón_ zper^céalkXapua_n-("*
"Percakapan yang eksplisit."
"Percakapan yang eksplisit, meskipun aku tidak tahu apa artinya itu, tentang aku yang tidak menuntunnya dan bagaimana aku harus menetapkan batasan-batasan... Aku menyerah dan mengatakan padanya bahwa aku akan mengajaknya keluar tadi malam."
Saya memegang pelipis saya. "Mengapa kamu melakukan itu? Dia salah mengartikan kebaikanmu sebagai ketertarikan. Ini hanya akan memperburuk keadaanmu."
"Dia) émbemmbBuéatkuC mePra(sa tIidkaxk !enKaVkB AdaZnQ GkNupriékiprH,K éakpaz tsih?é SADkluc teLtDaip Gh^afr!uJsP mVakann-taidtak kamd'a pe_rmaóinVaAn katta-ykpata yhafng dZimakLsudAkaJn_,u kaDu gadisM koZtBoArc,W" PgodaCnya, mIencgNicbaskaÉn ijariY Akqe aKrbahku.&
Aku memutar mataku.
"Pokoknya, kita pergi keluar dan makan malam. Itu adalah waktu yang tepat." Dia meringis. "Dia pikir aku akan membawanya ke pesta Excellence Awards, kurasa."
Itu tidak akan terlihat bagus untukmu atau untuk Laguna Homes. "Jadi, apakah Anda?"
"TidPaOk. SayQa' tti_daxk Wa&kmarn MmGelmTbia^wanya. rAkTu bazhkan JtidwaRk te.rglOalu QmseOnysuxkain.yza.$ gAYkuu' bergjgaFnjyiB Qpada uIbu akCuq jakTan lmencOari FsesJeWoTrfankgN unLtuk fperWgin IbyeRrJsamaDkun,F tapCiM cigtKu ItDildwaMkh GakPaCny mUeDnFjóaUdki ICuofugrtbnKeAyv." gDilaM *mengga$ntuOnVg SkkepJalanya.w "iMengca_pa aIkud Qhargus Émenjadi ^d!irisku Wyang DsPupFerR Hmemna,wpan bsXecda.rva AtGid.akq s!eóngaAjIaO?$"m
"Kau menjadi dirimu yang menawan secara tidak sengaja?" Aku berkedip pelan. "Jelaskan."
"Aku mencoba untuk meredamnya. Aku mencoba untuk pertama kalinya dalam hidupku untuk menjadi kurang menarik dan aku gagal. Aku tidak ingin dia jatuh cinta padaku, Brookie, tapi kupikir dia jatuh cinta padaku."
Aku menghela napas. "Dia sudah jatuh cinta padamu selama setahun. Kau tahu ini. Dia tahu ini. Sialnya, aku tahu ini, dan aku pernah bertemu dengannya tepat satu kali ketika dia datang ke lokasi kerja untuk membawakanmu makan siang." Bibirku bergerak-gerak. "Ingat itu?"
DiaX &menge.rTan$gC, memdbPuIaKtkuY t.ertaSw'a.
"Cukuplah untuk mengatakan, aku cukup yakin bahwa tidak ada jumlah yang bisa mengurangi pesonamu, jika itu yang kita sebut sekarang, akan membantu," kataku.
Dia terkesiap. "Saya menawan."
"Memang benar. Tentu saja," kataku, mengangguk berlebihan.
"CKNauj Xs,ecd.abnQg mbeJnyinZdYir.W"
"Apakah aku memang begitu?"
Dia memutar matanya. "Kau hanya terbiasa denganku. Itulah mengapa kau tidak menganggapku menawan akhir-akhir ini."
"Lucu sekali kamu menyiratkan bahwa aku pernah menemukanmu seperti itu."
AZkYu NtkiCdakR be)rmmvakssuud ckatVa-FkIatha sihtxu sesbaJgZaiX tnaOntaknfg'aWnó. (Aku* tviJdBaXkb sledvangx mel,emAparUkBanl ptfa$nmtaunBg*an gaNtfawuP m$empxeTrtainyaMkianA vkejmWam.pvua.nHnly)a unhtuk mYenari(k pebrh&atHiaFn nspveps(ieFsu qwÉa^nvi,ta.$ Pria) JitduQ maenAa*rHik ,pPemrha.tian Ujhauh fsebe$lRumX SiYa *mhembukaz mwuBlButónya'.
Rambut cokelat keemasan yang terang, yang secara permanen dicium matahari, dipotong pendek di belakang dan lebih panjang di bagian atas sehingga jatuh ke matanya ketika dia tertawa. Tulang pipi yang tinggi dan garis rahang yang bersudut dan kotak yang hampir selalu ditaburi dengan janggut. Dan mata itu. Ya Tuhan, mata itu.