Revived
Chapter 2

"That's not doing the job, go forward!" That's Altaf ketar-ketir.

"Altaf Baryan!" Since no one came forward, Mr. Wiwin finally called this name, a name he already believed was not doing today's work.

"Yes, Sir!" Altaf stood up from the back of the bench and said he was not excited. He stepped forward and stood before everyone.

It felt like he was eager to hit Resal who laughed at him behind. Fortunately stopped by Laya with a punch.

"Is there anything else besides Altaf?"

"No, Sir!" answer everything compactly.

"Eh, that's your job not yet done" whispered one student to another.

"Udah, justin."

"How many times have you said the job was done. If you keep this up, what do you want to be? Bad grades, rarely done tasks, what values do you want to fill in your rapormu?" Start off. Now the ears of all the students began to hurt to hear the words of the teacher which were comparable to the words of parents at home.

"Go to the field and respect the flag until my lesson time is over!" The previous punishment was not this severe. But if Mr. Wiwin has already ruled, it is already inviolable.

"Good, Sir!" Altaf out of class. Yara looked at Altaf with an inexplicable expression. Whether it's pity, or satisfaction. But if studied better, Yara does not show any expression alias flat.

"Where's the class president?" ask Mr. Wiwin.

"Not in, sir!" all students.

"Again?" Mr. Wiwin growled. As a homeroom teacher, he was upset that the class president who should be in charge of carrying out his duties was often alpa.

"What's the matter until he doesn't come in?" Students look at each other. No one knew, so everyone just kept quiet. Mr. Wiwin breathed a sigh of resignation.

"Is there a house close to him?" ask Mr. Wiwin. A student raised his hand and stood up. "House is locked, sir!" the student then sat back down.

"Your house is close to her?" ask Mr. Wiwin again, then get a coil from the answer. "I used to pick her up at her house a lot, but lately her house is empty and locked."

Wiwin sighed, he was frustrated that the classmaster had been barely four days away from entering. In the second he hit the table. "Well, we have a new class president election."

On the pitch Altaf was embarrassed to be noticed by people, including his underclassmen. It was hot, embarrassed, plus he had to try to hide his face.

The problem was that a few days ago he was in style wearing clear glasses on his handsome face that made him look like an ambitious smart person. Plus he walked like a rich kid by carrying a bag on his right shoulder.

Altaf walked without looking right and left which manifested a cold aura on him that made many female class siblings amazed while shyly seeing Altaf. But they did not know, The upperclassman they considered smart was a student with the lowest grade in his class.

"I shouldn't have done it" muttered Altaf. The new regret he felt now. "God please help Altaf, Altaf promises to do the job next time."

"Hey Altaf!" call someone from the end. The altar knows his voice. He faced the latter and looked at Yara in the heat of the sun.

"Down your hands!" his orders were in a slightly harsh tone but Altaf obeyed. "I'm sorry!" Although he hesitated a little, he finally revealed it. Altaf's eyes widened slightly. This one he heard .. right? Even though he was angry on the field, maybe he was sorry.

Altaf nodded. "I hit it enough at the time. Just relax, I'm sorry." Altaf smiled, but not with Yara, his expression was ordinary.

"Come on! Mr. Wiwin wait," said Yara and walked first. Altaf was confused, then walked after Yara and equalized his steps. "Wait who? Lv? Why is Mr. Wiwin waiting for me." he asked.

"See the same Mr. Wiwin."

"Lo habit, deh!"

***

"This is it, sir!" Yara pointed to Altaf with a thumbs up and then sat back to her seat in the corner of the second order from the front.

"What's up, sir?" tanya Altaf approached the Teacher's desk.

"This time you escaped punishment, but next time you don't do the job again, you'll dry it up to go home." Altaf's eyes were round upon hearing the words of the Master. Nodding and reproducing his speech while sipping his salivation. So mean.

"Sit down!" mr. Wiwin's orders. Altaf sat in his seat.

"Well, now we're going to pick a new class president. For those who want to run, please come forward!"

"Why the sudden election of class president? The old class president?" altaf asked the person next to him. "Replace," replied the Adjunct. He stood up and advanced forward.

"Eh, you want to be the class president?" Not answered. "Why Altaf? Want to be class president?" ask Mr. Wiwin jokingly.

"Gee!" Altaf shook his head quickly.

There were three people in front, two men and one woman. "Please address everyone about how fast you are to be class president. Started with the Adjunct."

"Hello! My name is Ajun Anggara. I'm not very smart, but I'm pretty good at English. I was pretty quick to find the missing item. I can separate personal and educational matters. I will be responsible for my work. Thank you!"

"Hello! My name is Jahan Fatara. I'm a year older than all of you and think a little more mature than the rest. I'm smart, because I never dropped from number one during school. I can remember something quickly, I can hear the outpouring of hearts of everyone in this class and give the solution, I can organize this class well, I can make sure the class is trash-free, he said, I can …." Clipped.

"Okay, enough!" Mr. Wiwin has heard enough of this boy, and he knows this boy is quite an example. He did not want his speech to last for an hour.

"Thank You!" jahan concluded.

"Hello! My name is Yara Hanawa. I am smart and learning. I can handle a good fight without siding with anyone. I'll make sure the class doesn't fuss at empty hours. I'll collect all the phones when lesson time starts. I'll make sure no one carries a beauty kit in School. And my speech. If there is a wrong word and pronunciation, I apologize! Thank you and please choose me."

"Okay, it's over. Think carefully about this, and we start voting tomorrow." The Chairman candidates returned to their respective benches without being told.

"Good, Sir!" sahut the members.

"Work page 27 now! It's a little, so you give it 20 minutes. It's value." Wiwin pressed on the word 'value' as if asserting to someone that he should do it well.

...Seriate..........