Because still in the euphoria of cheering us postal between Gue and Sarah, be our candidate class d

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After Outbound activity that almost claimed the life of me yesterday. Now it's time to rest my brain. Uh no, I have to start thinking about the next two days. The day when I occupied the bench ass high school class XII. Highest levels us postal in school, of course, the highest level for ngegebet juniors. Shucks my mind at the time, connected with a smile. I do not know, fill my palm more by a desire for courtship, but not necessarily one wants. us postal
In the midst of the unresolved reverie, I think the silence of the night. Dim light voice lacks the struggling stomach to be filled, I think, "I want the UN, cook kept thinking about a girl?" With a hungry stomach, finally I can think sane, at least for the moment.
Amid the harmonious us postal rhythm of spoons and plates, "You've already class XII, UN pikirin you. Take care, do not wander weird. "Mom said as she smoothed us postal piecemeal kitchen appliances.
Greetings sake welcome greeting on the first day of the new school year. Up in the school corridor, the atmosphere us postal is getting broken. Diffused sunlight window that morning, screaming hysterically tertemankan between students / i that has not been met. Equally, fragrant instant us postal noodles from the cafeteria, enter the nostrils us postal with a very understated. It's the atmosphere that I missed a month later.
There is a chat group of girl children, a boy and a guitar group no less commotion, gurp hardline Korean drama lovers. They tell how many DVDs that have been successful they watch during the holidays, as well as how they spend wipes container for watching. There is also the unfortunate group, with hysterical as Merapi erupted, they shouted how many pounds of weight they rose during the holidays.
After a few times reciprocated greetings, I looked at the window, for the sake of the class window, look for a window where the attached paper with my name. XII IPA 1, be my last port in high school.
"Hmmm, pantes not want to move the class, there she does." Fiqh statement us postal makes my other friend whispered with the same theme. "What's wrong with Khalid and Sarah?". At least quite similar to the title (which he says) romantic in Indonesia. (Read: What is it with love.)
Because still in the euphoria of cheering us postal between Gue and Sarah, be our candidate class device. Sarah the secretary candidates with good writing and I'm a candidate class president, us postal with a suitable character us postal errands.
After voting, in the end I'm still lost the charisma of Fiqh, student council president who was elected as class president. With my second us postal place as his deputy. While Sarah became secretary and treasurer sebgai Puput. Though I pengennya so bendaraha, at least I be a millionaire for the coming year.
The rhythm of the time was too fast bits. Slowly the sun began to rise and the smell of sweat began tecium more concentrated. I sat with her in the class table, gazing us postal out, already decorated with green leaves of golden sunlight.
"Halah, it mah distance Lid. Do not know the class XII said this time the most beautiful. "More Sarah with a smile and a swinging leg that is not up to the floor.
"But the feeling I do not have to mess Rah." I wish I could answer gini. I'm us postal too weak, to look at her face bright and too difficult to assemble three words, "I love you.".
I still remember having declared itself, that I'm not going out. Do not stop there, I also have a plan to keep away from her. But look what happened in the first twenty-four hours of my class, the declaration may only discourse meaningless now. Like the two poles m