Chapter 18
Tshabina
“Please?” I coaxed him again, “I’ve been learning for almost a month now! I’ll be seventeen soon anyway, Zi! And besides, it’s close, we’re only going to the Carrefour across the road, aren’t we?” I kept pleading with Zioh, who warmed up his brand-new car in the parking lot.
Dad had asked us to pick up some food and drinks for our planned barbecue, so we went to the nearest store to get everything we needed.
Zioh was never one for crowds or anything extravagant. If Zeraiah had always been the type to demand a proper party, Zioh would have preferred a small gathering, the immediate family, and us.
So that was what we had last month for his seventeenth.
We had dinner together, spent the evening as a family, and that was it.
Still, he’d received lavish gifts: the car from his dad, shares from his grandparents, a Vacheron Constantin watch from Mas Zaeem, a luxury pen set, and a designer shirt from his mother.
I had no idea what Zeraiah had given him, but Zioh’s face flushed red as soon as he opened it, and he’d spent the entire night grumbling at him about it.
He had refused to speak of it since. As for Tsabinu, he handed over a new sketchbook set with all sorts of pencils, so I assume that was his gift.
So, you could imagine how nervous—no, embarrassed, I felt, clutching the little thing I’d brought for him.
I almost took it back that night, but Zioh caught me and coaxed me into giving it to him.
He told me he would treasure my gift more than all the others, and he had to persuade me for quite a while.
It was a jar… A rather big jar. A glass jar with a wide wooden lid, filled with tiny paper stars in various colours. I’d written a note on every folded star, something for him to open daily. There were three hundred and sixty-five in total, meant to last him the whole year.
I didn’t know why, but something had shifted in him lately—something missing these past few years.
When he showed up at my house in the morning, the dark circles under his eyes were deep, his shoulders sagged, and his smile was nowhere near as bright as usual, as if someone had stolen it from him.
Perhaps… the weight of high school was dragging him down.
When I’d told Mum about it, she said it was the process of growing up. She’d said that children would grow, shed their old ways, and take on new ones as they mature, that it was simply part of becoming an adult.
But I was sure it was more than that.
So, the jar was a reminder, filled with my little notes for every day. As I handed it to him, I wanted him to know, truly know, that he wasn’t alone.
That I would always be there for him.
I’d also knitted him a small black keychain with the letter “Z” embroidered on it. When Zeraiah told me Zioh would be getting a car, I immediately decided to make him the keychain to go with it.
That night, he and I had sat together in the garden beside his house, the lovely big garden where we’d always swum, run about, had barbeques, and where Mama Nadine planted her hundreds of flowers. Nervously, I handed him my gifts.
I’d watched him, waiting for his next move as he unwrapped them, my heart pounding, and Zioh looked breathtaking that night.
Since he’d begun following Mas Zaeem to the gym a year ago, he’d grown taller, and his arms and chest were more defined.
It had pushed Zeraiah and Tsabinu to start going as well, leaving me often alone with Mama Nadine whenever my mum was away performing and their dad was at work.
But with Zioh, I couldn’t deny it: he looked so refreshed after a session, as though a weight had been lifted from him. Most importantly, the gym transformed him into a sight I never tired of.
I’d returned my gaze to him as he studied my gift.
He’d touched the jar, and his fingers lingered on it before his dark brown eyes flickered towards me.
“Thank you, Sophie.” He’d bent down and kissed the top of my head.
My heart had nearly burst from my chest—especially when he told me, “It was the most beautiful gift I received tonight.”
And the keychain I’d made was dangling from his new car keys. Earlier, when I was in his room, the number of stars in the jar had dwindled—proof that he was opening one daily.
Pestering him, I tugged at his arm with my best puppy-dog eyes, begging him to let me drive. Honestly, I had been acting like this for fifteen minutes! But Zioh, being Zioh, he gave me a gentle smile and shook his head.
I pouted, and he stroked my cheek with the calmest look, unaffected. “Baby, just sit tight and let the grown-up drive.”
Well, that was really annoying. He said it with a sly grin, and I knew he was teasing me. I pulled my hands to my hips and glared at him. “Stop calling me a baby! I’ll be seventeen soon as well, Zioh!” I snapped.
He raised a brow, glanced at his watch for a second, and bent until his eyes met mine. “You mean in seven months, fourteen days, seven hours, and forty-three minutes?”
I gaped and let my shoulders slump, letting out an exasperated sigh.
Zioh was immovable. Sometimes it seemed he and Tsabinu were the real twins—always bound by rules, always disciplined and proper.
“Come on, Zi,” I pleaded again. “You’ve been teaching me for a month now.
Don’t you think it’s time for a proper lesson? ” I tried with my most convincing tone.
He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “Inside the housing complex, fine. But not on the main road, Sophie.” His tone was firm. That was it. Once Zioh made up his mind, it was set in stone.
Giving up, I walked to the passenger seat. As I was about to open the door, he called out, his voice softer now. “Hey.”
I looked up at him with my lips pulled into a sulky pout, and he let out a slow breath. “Cross with me?”
Wasn’t that obvious?
His question only made me huff harder.
I shrugged, sighing.
He watched me in silence for a few seconds, then walked over. Gently, he turned me towards him, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. I lifted my eyes to him and saw a smile spread across his face, the soft, tender one he seemed to reserve only for me.
It wasn’t the same smile he gave anyone else. This one felt warm, glowing, perfectly in tune with his deep brown eyes. He cleared his throat and murmured. “Besides, you ought to be grateful.” He raised a brow. “You’ve got yourself a personal chauffeur, haven’t you?”
Well, yes, Zioh had always offered to drive me anywhere since he got his licence and his own car. I hadn’t needed the driver since, and we even have our own carpool karaoke routine now.
Seeing me remain silent, he added. “Not just giving you a lift anywhere you like, but teaching you how to drive as well, right?” He lowered his voice, leaning in as if confiding. “I even skipped a few lessons just to teach you.” He brushed my cheek again, coaxing.
I still didn’t answer, so he went on. “Tell you what, once you’ve got your licence, I’ll be your first passenger… and I’ll treat you, how’s that?”
I found myself smiling back. I nodded. “Okay… but promise?” I raised my little finger.
Warmly, Zioh hooked his with mine. “Yes, Sophie. Promise.”
Not long after, the lift dinged open. Zeraiah and Tsabinu came out, lugging several oversized tote bags.
“Right, let’s go. I’ve got Uncle Prabu’s shopping list here,” Zeraiah announced, sliding into the car first.
Tsabinu took the back seat beside him, glancing at Zioh and me before settling in. “Mum also wants some beetroot, apparently. Let’s head out before it gets too late,” he added.
Zioh and I climbed in as well, me sitting in front beside him. As soon as I buckled up, my eyes went straight to the iDrive system in his BMW. I fiddled with the control knob, scrolling to multimedia and selecting the jukebox where we’d already imported our playlists.
It was not just me; Zeraiah joined in, too. The first thing we did with Zioh’s new high-tech car was cram the hard drive with our favourite songs.
Mine: One Direction.
Zeraiah’s: rock, rock, and more rock.
I was about to click on one of my 1D tracks when Zeraiah suddenly lunged forward from the backseat, his hand blocking mine. I raised my brows at him, and he mirrored me with a narrow-eyed glare. Zioh and Tsabinu both sighed.
“Here we go again,” Zioh muttered under his breath.
“Do we really need to do this every time we drive?” Tsabinu added, already weary of us.
But neither Zeraiah nor I backed down. We held our ground, locked in a silent battle of wills.
Zeraiah arched a brow at me, clearing his throat. “Forgot something, Bib?” His eyes narrowed further. “Or are you trying to cheat?”
Cocking my head, I frowned.
“I won,” he said, “that pathetic game of yours, Plants vs Zombies? The one you swore you were some expert at?” he spoke in an exaggerated tone. “Yet I still thrashed you ten times over?”
Oh… right. I’d forgotten.
Zeraiah’s smirk turned triumphant. “The winner gets the playlist for the whole week!” he declared, shoving my hand aside and quickly selecting his beloved tracks.
A blast of AC/DC filled the car, “Back in Black,” and my irritation spiked as he began belting the lyrics at the top of his lungs on purpose.
And as we drove through Jakarta, the late afternoon sky stretched a brilliant blue, the city itself bearing witness to our laughter, singing, bickering, and love for one another.
? ── * ── ?
Present
That was Zeraiah. It had to be him.
Even the AC/DC song blaring from the car made it undeniable, this wasn’t a hallucination but real.
Our eyes locked, wide and shimmering. Our bodies froze, as if it had hit us all at once. His striking appearance—dark blond hair and emerald-green eyes, so rare in this city—made my knees buckle, and my tears threatened to spill.
It was Zeraiah.
Truly, it was him. It was my best friend.
My stiff legs tried to move, one step closer to the car as impatient horns blasted from vehicles behind him. I walked on, gaze fixed solely on him. The cars beside us rolled forward, but he and I remained suspended in time.
Until he broke it.
His eyes wrenched away from mine, and with tense, jerky movements, he sped off and left me standing like a statue.
I spun round and stared as the weight of it rooted me in place, as his car vanished into the distance. My chest tightened, and I screamed, my voice tearing through the street as I bolted after him. “Zeraiah!”
Running along the sidewalk, I ignored the startled looks and bumped into strangers, my breath ragged. “Zer!” I kept shouting, even though I knew it was useless. By the time I reached the end of the sidewalk, the wide main road stretched ahead of me. He was gone.
I stopped, and tears streamed down my face.
I’d been discarded. Again.
My knees went weak beneath me, as if I’d just run for miles. My eyes glazed over the rushing traffic before me, empty, and trembled. “Zer…” The whisper left my lips. “It’s me… please…” I prayed that I’d see his car return.
But deep down, I knew.
They had cast me aside long ago.
Behind me, Andi called out, his voice thin and breathless.
“Biba…” He caught up, chest heaving. I turned to him, my vision blurry.
My voice shook, and I stumbled over my words.
“I-I wasn’t imagining it, r-right, Ndi? Y-you saw him, too, didn’t you?
” I knew the truth already. But I needed to hear it.
“That was Z-Zeraiah, you saw him?” I pressed, desperate for confirmation.
Andi didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The way he bit his lip and the sadness in his eyes, it clicked in my head. It was what he and Tsabinu had been talking about when I’d overheard them.
They’d known all along. And once again, they’d chosen not to tell me.
Because to them, I would always be fragile, weak, and burdensome. Especially when it came to my golden past, to the people who had once meant everything to me.
And just like in the past, Zeraiah abandoned me without a word.