CHAPTER 4: A MAKESHIFT SHOWER IN THE MALL

"Dita!" I shrieked. "Have you lost your mind?" My eyes bulged as I shoved the plate of croissants toward her. "You were just jealous because I had a dream like that about Mr. Jefri. Now, why on earth are you suggesting I actually do it for real?"

Dita scratched her head, looking just as frustrated as I felt. "Well... the problem is, you’re struggling so much just to submit a thesis. Compare that to when you write fiction; you can churn out thousands of words in a single day." Her face was taut, her eyes wide with urgency.

I pulled both my feet up onto the chair, sitting cross-legged. "Of course that’s different." I stirred my iced coffee with a sullen expression. "I’ve never liked the business world, but Papa keeps forcing it on me. That’s why my mind just blocks up."

Dita crossed her arms over her chest. She gave me a cynical look—the same kind of look I often received from my parents. "I truly wonder how your brain works, Er." She took a deep breath, as if bracing herself to deliver a sermon. "Your parents have provided you with every comfort, yet you choose the difficult path by becoming a writer."

"That’s what you call passion, Dita..." I asserted, sipping the last of my iced coffee until the straw made a loud, rattling sound against the remaining ice.

Srrp... srrp...

Dita stared at me with a cold, rigid face, looking exactly like a stepmother on the verge of an explosive rage.

"Hehehe... Can I order another coffee?" I asked with a hollow laugh, trying to thin the tension.

"No, you can't! Come with me!"

Dita dragged me out of the cafe. Her pace was frantic, truly resembling a mother about to discipline a wayward child.

"Where are you taking me, Dita?"

"To take a shower!" she replied curtly, never once loosening her grip.

I dug my heels in and held her arm back. "What? A shower?"

Dita spun around, folding her arms as she glared at me. "That’s right. You haven't showered in two days, have you?"

I tugged at the edge of Dita’s sleeve, hanging my head. My face felt hot and flushed. "Dita... there are people everywhere. How can I possibly shower inside a mall?"

"Are you actually feeling ashamed now?" Dita stepped back slightly to scrutinize my appearance from head to toe. "Look at yourself. How could Mr. Jefri not feel repulsed just looking at you?"

I crossed my legs. My hands fidgeted together while I occasionally scratched my head, which was indeed starting to itch. I had forgotten exactly when I last washed my hair. Writing fiction made me too comfortable in my world of imagination, causing me to lose touch with the reality I had to live.

"Come on! Do you want to graduate or not?!" Dita snapped.

"Of course I want to graduate..." I answered quickly, following Dita as she led me toward a boutique.

I watched her pick out several outfits: a loose, sheer top and a mini dress with a plunging neckline. My brow furrowed. This was definitely not my style. For a moment, I thought she was picking them for herself.

But in reality, Dita approached me with a satisfied smirk, her hands holding a set of clothes capable of leaving any man breathless. My heart began to thud against my ribs.

"Try these on!" she commanded, thrusting the clothes toward me.

I accepted them hesitantly, holding them up in front of Dita. I gave a faint, half-hearted smile, then lowered the garments again.

"Is this outfit for me, Dit?" I asked, my eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"Obviously." Dita folded her arms again, looking at me cynically. "You are a woman. Can you please dress a little more femininely?"

My body felt limp with exhaustion. But right now, I didn't have the luxury of time to argue. I had only one goal: to graduate.

"Fine, I'll try it."

"Much better," Dita replied, her face brightening.

She kept watch in front of the fitting room. Then, when I stepped out in the clothes she had chosen...

"Wow... you’re beautiful, Erika. Do you even realize you have such a stunning face?" she praised.

Sadly, the compliment didn't move me. I felt exposed and uncomfortable in such revealing clothes.

"Thanks, bestie," I replied softly, flashing a wide, empty smile.

I quickly changed back, then settled the payment.

"Next, I’m taking you to wash up," Dita said with a very smug grin.

Truly, Dita always managed to catch me off guard. Showering in a mall?

I stood frozen; I could barely even blink. My lips felt numb as I tried to ask, "Are you sure I have to shower at the mall?"

"Absolutely. Let’s go!" Dita dragged me toward the restroom again. "You won't have time to shower at your apartment. If you’re late again, I guarantee Mr. Jefri will throw your thesis in the trash."

Her lecturing continued all the way down the hall until we finally reached the restroom. I eventually gave in; I showered in a toilet stall with water that barely trickled out. Dita had come prepared, providing a body wash with an incredibly fragrant scent.

"Emm... it smells so refreshing."

I even managed to play with the bubbles in the middle of this humiliating situation. I used quite a bit of water, to the point where it started seeping into the next stall. Fortunately, the restroom was quiet, so I didn't feel too embarrassed about bathing in a public facility. I could only hear the voice of a woman in the next stall grumbling.

"Who is showering in here? Do they not have a bathroom at home?"

I pursed my lips, trying to tune her out while I slipped into the new clothes I had just bought.

As I stepped out of the restroom, I was immediately greeted by a janitor holding a mop. Her face was unfriendly, her brows knit tight.

"Ma'am... I’m so sorry. Here is a little something to help with cleaning the restroom again."

I handed her the remaining cash in my bag, about one million rupiah. Instantly, the woman’s demeanor shifted to one of pure warmth and wide smiles.

"Oh, dear... you didn't have to trouble yourself!" she said, accepting the money. I knew it was just a formality.

"It’s no trouble. I’m the one who should apologize for adding to your workload."

I hurried out of the restroom and approached Dita, who was standing tall by the entrance like a security guard.

"Dit..." I called out.

Instantly, Dita’s eyes sparkled and a grin spread across her face. "There we go... now you look presentable. Come on, follow me!" she said, taking my hand.