USTADZ
80. The arrival of Dasha

"Hi Di," Dasha immediately occupied the empty seat next to Adi after he reached the classroom. "Amar hasn't come home yet?"

Adi breathed a heavy sigh. "Why do you ask that Amar every day? Why don't you just find me?"

Dasha chuckles. "Why look for people who are clearly in plain sight, Adi? Besides, I asked because I was curious about the progress of our research. If he doesn't come home soon, then everything will be hampered."

"Yes, yes," Adi propped her chin up on the palm. "He's home, anyway,"

"Correct?" Dasha's face suddenly turned bright, her eyes twinkling. "Then where is he now? Why not go to college?"

"Still taking care of his wife" Adi replied as she pointed to her own face. "Don't you see my eye bags this black? This is because Amar kicked me out of the apartment!"

"His wife?" Dasha seemed to think for a moment. "You mean Syahla?"

"Well, how many Amar's wives are there? Anyway, that one!"

Dasha nodded her head, then she suddenly got up from sitting down. Makes Adi frown curiously.

"Eh, where are you going? Classes are about to start!"

"Today I'm clearance!" dasha replied as she ran out of the room.

...----------------...

Meanwhile, in the apartment Ustadz Amar already smelled the aroma of delicious cuisine. In particular, today Ustadz Amar cooks Indonesian specialties for his wife, as a cure-all because it has been separated for a long time. Usually while in America Ustadz Amar is also not as smart, he better order food from halal restaurants in order to save time. But, for the sake of his wife, he was willing to wake up early even though he actually still felt tired.

"Again" Shahla emerged from the room rubbing her eyes, spoiled and hugging her husband from behind.

"Dear, dear" Ustadz Amar turned a glance, then refocused on the cuisine he was making.

"What did I help you with?" Shahla peered over her husband's broad shoulders, of course, on her tiptoes because their different heights were quite far away.

"You just sit down. I'm done in a minute."

"okay." Shahla let go of her embrace and headed towards the dining chair. But not until he landed his ass on the chair, the doorbell was pressed hard.

"Who is? Is it okay to bang Adi, mas?"

"Can be. I ask you to wear a hijab, baby, please open the door first." pinta Ustadz Amar while still processing the cuisine. Shahla nodded her head.

"Ready Mas" she said as she ran into the room to look for a hijab.

After wearing the long cloth, Syahla then opened the apartment door. But he was surprised because it was not Adi that he saw, but a very beautiful Caucasian woman.

"Hi" said the girl as she looked at Shahla. Syahla just smiled awkwardly as she returned her greeting.

"Hey, don't speak English. I can speak your language. You don't remember me, do you, Shahla? I'm Dasha, your best friend!"

Shahla gasped at Dasha's explanation. No one thought Dasha was so beautiful, twice as beautiful as the one in her social media photos.

"Well.." Shahla nodded her head. "How are you?"

"I'm good! Uh, what's this smell? Why so good! Can I come in?"

Nah! Syahla was eager to shout that sentence, unfortunately what she did was the opposite. He nodded his head while smiling sweetly at Dasha, letting her in.

"Well, what are you cooking Mar?" Dasha said enthusiastically when he saw Ustadz Amar was arranging dishes filled with side dishes on the dining table. Seeing the arrival of Dasha, Ustadz Amar was clearly overwhelmed with astonishment.

"Dasha! Why are you here?"

"Why is your expression so? I'm going to meet Shahla, my best friend. This isn't the first time, is it? I've been here a lot, too,"

Frequently? Shahla glared at Dasha's words. So this girl comes to my husband's apartment often?

"Oh yeah, I brought you some souvenirs. This is Amar's favorite strawberry," said Dasha while putting a bag of paper bags on the table.

"Mas Amar's Favorite?" Shahla repeats Dasha's words while turning her eyes to her husband. "When do you like strawberries?"

"Lho's? Do you not know? Amar right if here always buy strawberry milk every day! He said it was his favorite!"

Syahla glanced at the husband who could only be silent. Ustadz Amar was unable to answer anything because what Dasha said was true. Meanwhile Syahla can only smile awkwardly, because she feels strange because it turns out that all this time she does not know the favorite of the husband.

For a long time, the atmosphere of the dining table felt awkward. To melt the atmosphere, Syahla finally took the initiative to offer first. "Would you like to have breakfast with us, Dasha?"

"Can you? Well, I don't feel good for interrupting your activities early in the morning."

"No really," Again Syahla said the opposite of his heart. "I'm glad I have friends in America."

"I'm also happy because I have friends from Indonesia!" Dasha grabbed Shahla's hand with sparkling eyes. Syahla was only able to return Dasha's smile with a faint smile.

In the end, Ustadz Amar, Dasha and Syahla had breakfast together. During the activity of eating dishes made by Ustadz Amar, Syahla felt awkward because repeatedly he felt Dasha was too meddling in the affairs of the husband.

"Eh, Amar, do not drink cold early in the morning, it is better to drink warm, healthier!" he said one time, then without being asked Dasha immediately went to the kitchen and took warm water for Ustadz Amar without confusion, as if he had memorized the condition of the house.

"Without eating, we need a snack. I made strawberry juice!" Again Dasha took the initiative, quickly set foot into the kitchen, leaving Ustadz Amar who glanced timidly at the wife and Shahla who noticed the movements of the bule woman with a sharp gaze.

Syahla repeatedly took a long breath. He tried to think positively, maybe what Dasha is doing now is a form of American courtesy. But all his patience collapsed as he heard Dasha's screams from the kitchen.

"Amar, you usually like sweet ones, don't you?"