I just realized how short the previous chapter was. LOL So.... here's another one!!

 

 

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An extract from Chapter 10 of Ambiguity

 

Naomi frowns at her cup of coffee. She sits in one of the empty booths, on her break, a book she is currently reading left unopened at her side. Ace would be walking through those doors any minute now, ready to start his shift. It would be his second day on the job, and with Naomi having already given him a brief tour yesterday, would (hopefully) have very little contact with him. But although she endeavored to ultimately avoid him, she wants to ask him a burning question: “Why are you here?”

 

It just doesn't make sense, his opting for a minimum wage job, and here, of all places. He'd worn fancy suits and must have had a high power, high paying job. So why is he here?

 

She'd posed the question to him already yesterday, but he'd only skirted around it, responding with "Because you're here" and "I fancied a change". Who in their right mind would give up a comfy, well-paid job in an office for one in a hot, stuffy kitchen?

 

She's so preoccupied with her thoughts that she fails to hear the footsteps behind her, and fails to see the man slip into the seat opposite her. Until, he reaches his hand out towards her, pulling her book towards him.

 

"Ace!" she exclaims, jumping at the sudden realization of his presence.

 

"Naomi!" He replicates her surprised voice, much to her annoyance, and frowns.

 

She goes to grab her book back, but Ace pulls it even further from out of her reach. She rolls her eyes and orders, "Give it."

 

He raises a quizzical eyebrow. "Jane Austen?"

 

"So? I saw it on the syllabus of the course I want to take at college, so I thought I'd give it a go."

 

She stands up, heading over to the bar, Ace following close behind her.

 

"Have they offered you a place?" he asks, casually leaning against the bar as Naomi settles herself behind it.

 

She momentarily stiffens at his question, as she still has yet to hear from the College. She'd just been generally interested in picking up the novel when seeing the authors name on practically every English course offered across the state.

 

"I haven't heard from the College yet," Naomi admits, wiping a damp cloth across the bar, while Ace fumbles with one of the stray bear mats.

 

"I'm sure you'll hear something soon," he consoles, "how could they turn you down?"

 

He appears genuinely sincere, but she can't be too sure. Perhaps he's winding her up, as per usual.

 

"Even if they do," she says, "College still costs a bit. I'm not sure whether I'll have enough money in the end to start this year." A large sum of her recently required income had been spent on some new, pricey drugs her father had been prescribed for his Alzheimers. The care home she'd been forced to place him in two years prior had also requested a larger bill from her, eating into her college fund even more.

 

Ace stops twirling the beer mat and gives her a small smile.

 

"I'm sure something will come up," he says.

 

 

 

 

 

I shut the book and rested my head against the car seat, listening to the sharp drops of rain smacking against the window. The fat blobs of precipitation collide with each other, merging and splitting, distorting my view of outside.

 

Jiyong is going to be soaked by the time he comes back to my car with Dami and Deukkie in tow. It's been a week since our schedule had commenced: class, quintet practice, and then going to fetch Dami and Deukkie from school. Jiyong had originally insisted on walking back himself with the kids if I could just drop him off at the school, because it may be a long wait. But me being the oh-so-generous person I am, had waved off the inconvenience: his house was on the way back to mine anyway, so had agreed to give them a lift back to their house, also.

 

The door suddenly swung open, allowing a sheet of rain to splatter against the seats. The back door open edalso and Dami and Deukkie dived inside, dripping wet. Both wore windbreakers, protecting them from the onslaught of rain. Jiyong, on the other hand, had not been as prepared in a thin jacket that now clung to him like an extra, tight shirt, outlining his well-muscled arms and chest. His hair was plastered against his scalp, rain dripping off his nose, ears and chin. He ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back, keeping it from out of his eyes.

 

I realize I'm staring and averted my eyes quickly, but it's too late because he'd seen me looking. And he's grinning. But just so we're clear, I was staring because he's wet and water stains are a nightmare to get out.

 

"I'm really sorry about this, Dara," he apologized, indicating his sodden attire.

 

The downpour had been sudden and unexpected, beginning just as I'd parked outside the school. It couldn't have been anticipated: it was just crappy luck.

 

"Not your fault. Freakish weather," I said despondently. "Unless you've been singing again. Because that would definitely explain it."

 

He fixed me with a dark look and I grinned.

 

Dami and Deukkie giggled in the back, amused by my quip. They'd both grown accustomed to us firing insults back and forth at each other, occasionally offering their own remarks in our witty exchanges. They know we're only teasing each other.

 

"How was school, guys?" I asked as I pull out of my parking space, window wipers swishing back and forth.

 

"I drew a picture," Dami said, "and the teacher liked it a lot. It's of you and oppa."

 

I heard her rustle in her bag, retrieving the work.

 

"Which one's hyung?" Deukkie asked.

 

"That one," Dami replied, in a duh–like tone.

 

"He's wearing pink!"

 

"There weren't any black crayons!"

 

I suppressed my laughter, careful to keep my eyes on the road after casting a quick glance at Jiyong, who's frowning. I'd only ever seen Jiyong in his usual monochromatic black – a little diversity wouldn't hurt now, would it?

 

"I reckon you could pull off pink, Fang. You know, a bit of color in your wardrobe wouldn't hurt," I said, not needing to turn to him to know he's rolling his eyes. "It's your birthday in a couple of months," I continued, "maybe I should buy you a colored shirt."

 

"You remember when my birthday is?"

 

"Yeah," I say, "August 18th, right? I remember Mom forcing me to attend your 7th birthday party."

 

He chuckled, remembering. "Right," he said, "you blew out my candles and fell into my cake."

 

"You were too slow," I defended, "you were trying to blow them out individually. People were hungry, we wanted cake." I paused. "And if I remember correctly, I didn't fall into the cake, you pushed me into it."

 

He scoffed. "Because you blew out my candles."

 

I'm about to protest more, but Deukkie shouted, "Guys! We're here."

 

I pulled into the drive without a word. The rain has not relented, at all, but in fact, appeared to be chucking it down with an even greater intensity. And without my window wipers, I can barely determine anything outside, the rain degrading the street and houses to a blur of colors.

 

"Right guys," Jiyong said, "we're going to run inside, as quick as you can, on the count of five."

 

"Five." He undoes his seatbelt, Dami and Deukkie following suite.

 

"Four…three…two." He gripped the door handle, turned round sharply to face me, "Thanks for the lift."

 

"One!" Dami cried, jumping out with Deukkie, Jiyong soon on their tail.

 

"Bye, Dara," they shouted in unison as they slam my doors, legging it inside.

 

I waved to them as they reach the porch and drive off, smiling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as class was dismissed I went to pick up my books, slotting them into my bag, until I noticed a hand snatch up my copy of Ambiguity. I looked up, frowning, only to come face to face with Jiyong. He flipped open my book, turning to where I've placed my bookmark.

 

"You're quite far," he said, and then grinned. "But I'm further."

 

I narrowed my eyes at him dangerously, and his grin stretched even wider.

 

He handed me my book back, our hands brushing together during the brief exchange. I'm glad he failed to notice the slight tint of color in my cheeks as we walked out of class together, or the smile as I noted the scowl on the Black Head Wonder's face as she sees Jiyong and I together. She's lingering in the doorway, tapping a finger against her short black skirt, no doubt waiting for him.

 

"Hey Jiyong," she began, "do you want to go out tonight?"

 

There's a look of anticipation and apprehension on her face. I think I mirrored this look, also, as I waited with abated breath for his reply. Surely his standards exceed her?

 

"Uhm," he began, "thanks, but I can't. I've got work."

 

A look of disappointment flitted across her face before being replaced by a forced smile. She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Well, how about another night?" she asked, unperturbed.

 

He bit his lip, nervous. "Now's not a good time, as I've said before. College, quintet practice and work, take up a lot of my time right now."

 

She frowned. "Quintet? You never mentioned you played an instrument."

 

"Yeah," he said, as we walked down the hall, Jiyong between the both of us. "I play violin."

 

Her finely plucked eyebrows rose upwards in surprise. She smiled. "Really? Wow. Maybe I could hear you play sometime?"

 

Okay, enough is enough. She's slowing us down, and to be honest, I'm a particularly patient person. I want her gone. Now.

 

"Look," I began, turning to her with a hard look, "I don't think he's interested, okay?"

 

She gritted her teeth, and snidely remarked, "And what would you know about what he wants? It certainly wouldn't be you. He could do much better than you. We've all seen the way you look at him, and I'm sorry honey, but you haven't got a chance. You'd be a mismatched couple, because you're just not pretty enough."

 

I gaped. How dare she…

 

She grinned triumphantly, happy at my reaction. Oh, I'm so gonna wipe that silly smirk off her face with my fist.

 

We'd all stopped walking as soon as she'd made that y remark, Jiyong firmly planting himself between both of us, frowning at the Black Headed Wonder. My hands clenched into tight fists, and I lunged for her. Only before I can do any real damage, Jiyong grabbed my wrist, hauling me back, and I collided with his firm chest. I can feel my face heating up, partly from our close proximity, but more so from the burning hatred I feel towards the .

 

"Let me go, Jiyong," I growled, futilely trying to remove myself from out of his firm grip.

 

He doesn't, however, and whispered, close to my ear, "Let it go, Dara. She's not worth it."

 

I stopped struggling, realizing he's right. She isn't worth my time. At all. And fghting on campus, as well, would most certainly get me kicked out.

 

She'd instantly recoiled when I'd lunged for her, pressing herself firmly against the wall. Wimp. That stupid grin had situated itself back onto her lips when Jiyong had restrained me, most likely thinking he'd done it for her benefit.

 

Was it?

 

"Listen," Jiyong said, directing his words at her, his voice hard, "I'm not interested in going out with you. At all. I was trying to let you down easy, but you've just made it very hard."

 

The Black Head Wonder gasped. Ha!

 

"I'd appreciate it," he continued, "if you wouldn't speak to my friend like that. Especially when Dara is better, much better, in fact, than you, in both personality and looks."

 

She looked incredulous, agape, until her resolve hardened and she turned round sharply, strutting down the hall. I'm equally surprised, looking up at Jiyong who still held my wrist. He'd called me his friend. Is that what we are now? When had we moved out of archenemy territory?

 

I knew he can feel my eyes on him, but he refused to meet my gaze. He still hasn't let go of my arm, so I gently tugged it from out of his grasp and he started, realizing he'd still had a hold of me and took a step back. He met my eyes then, looking rather sheepish, biting his lip.

 

I'm not sure what to say. It feels alien thanking Jiyong for something, but I have to. He'd just stood up for me. Again.

 

"Thanks," I said, suddenly timid. The Black Head Wonder's words had particularly hurt, settling in my ears like poison. You haven't got a chance…you're not pretty enough. Oh God, I've never been this self-conscious before. This is getting just ridiculous. Get a grip, Dara.

 

We began walking down the hall when Jiyong interrupted the cascade of thoughts cycling through my mind. "You shouldn't listen to her, y'know. She's just jealous."

 

I snorted. I don't like reveling in self-pity, but she has nothing to be jealous of.

 

"You have me," he said, grinning cheekily, "and she doesn't."

 

I rolled my eyes at his egotistical remark. But he has a point. Whether I want Jiyong or not, he's always been around.

 

"In that case," I said, "I'm definitely jealous of her. I'd love to get rid of you."

 

He puts a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "Ouch," he said. And then he turned to me seriously, all playfulness devoid from his eyes. "She was wrong in what she said. You are very pretty. Only difference is you don't need layers of makeup and short skirts to look nice."

 

I smiled, warmth instantly flooding through me in response to his kind words. Is this really Jiyong? Maybe it's a clone, or he has a twin, and I've just been subjected to the evil one for all of these years.

 

He grinned suddenly, the playful twinkle establishing itself back in his eyes. "Although, if you want to wear a short skirt…"

 

He trailed off and I whacked him on the arm, smiling nonetheless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Dara! Jiyong!" Daesung greeted from his seat, cello beside his feet.

 

Bom and Seunghyun are already seated, also, practice supposed to having commenced ten minutes ago. But our tardiness couldn't have been stopped: the Black Head Wonder had to be dealt with first.

 

Jae was seated an the corner, frowning, his arms and legs crossed. His visits have been sporadic to rehearsal, most likely because of Jiyong. But in some ways, Jae's absence is preferable, as Jiyong and Jae seem to have a mutual dislike towards each other, glowering whenever possible, offering snide remarks whenever possible. And although I know Seunghyun dislikes Jiyong equally, he's chosen to ignore him instead. Jae is always the main provocateur, surprisingly, never missing an opportunity to harshly criticize Jiyong's playing. I'd spoken to Jae the other day, telling him to it up and be nice or we'd lose our first violin. I think my words had, as they say, gone in one ear and out the other.

 

"Where've you been?" Jae demanded. Seriously? I feel like my mom is interrogating me after walking into the house passed curfew.

 

I shrugged. "Nowhere. We just bumped into trouble. But problem solved, Mom," I answered, annoyance seeping into my voice.

 

He turned to glare at Jiyong, who appeared completely impervious to the look. To Jiyong's credit, he tried to ignore Jae's harsh, unjust comments. But everyone has a line, and Jae is nearing closer to it all the time.

 

"I'm ready," Jiyong said, taking his place.

 

"About time," Jae mumbled. We all ignored him, with me rolling my eyes. I despair.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"My hand hurts," Daesung complained, after a three hour session. The pieces are coming along now, and what with just another two weeks left until we're scheduled to play at this fancy dinner, we should be ready. Phew.

 

As I'm shoving my music together, Jae came over.

 

"I'm sorry," he said, genuine sincerity alighted on his face. I simply nodded, wondering what exactly he's referring to. He'd been a bit of a jerk lately.

 

"I shouldn't have demanded where you were," he continued, "it's just you and Jiyong…" He trailed off and I turned to face him, frowning.

 

"What about me and Jiyong?"

 

He rubbed his neck, uncomfortable. "You're close."

 

"I've known him a long time," I said, "but we're not like best friends or anything. We bicker and wind each other up most the time. You know that." I didn't mention that, by some miracle, we're actually getting on somewhat recently, and I'm finding fewer moments where I feel the compulsion to wring his neck.

 

Jae shook his head and gave me a small smile, forcing a short laugh. "Yeah, you're right. I just don't want him taking you away from me."

 

He slung an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer. I haven't seen him much over the past week, keeping contact with him solely through phone messages. We'd both been busy with essays, and over the weekend, Jae had been forced to attend a family reunion.

 

I tried relaxing into Jae's embrace, but I can't help feeling tense and slightly uncomfortable. I'm not a huggie person. And when I've caught sight of Jiyong watching us, intently, his jaw clenched and the almost imperceptible tightening around his eyes, I pulled away. It's stupid because I shouldn't feel guilty, and yet I do.

 

I faked a smile and patted Jae's arm, almost awkwardly. His good hand entwined with mine and he smiled. My eyes cast over Jiyong's briefly. His eyes are downcast now as he waited for me by the door.

 

"I've got to go, Jae," I mumbled.

 

He walked me towards the door, still holding my hand, swinging it back and forth. "Maybe we could go out tomorrow? It'll be the weekend, so unless you've got anything planned, we could go bowling or see a film."

 

I nodded. "Sure. Just let me know when."

 

He flashed me a broad smile before kissing me on the cheek, briefly looking to Jiyong, most likely to scrutinize his reaction. Hadn't we just passed the whole jealousy thing?

 

"I've really got to go," I said, gently removing my hand from his.

 

"I'll call you," he said, as Jiyong and I exit the music room.

 

We walked down the halls together in silence, and then walked through the car park in silence. We got in the car, fastened our seatbelts, and Jiyong still hasn't said a word. He just looked straight ahead, outside the window, wearing that mask I thought he'd shelved somewhere: his impassive mask. Now, I can't tell what he's feeling or what he's thinking. And I hated it.

 

I looked at my watch and forced a smile. "It's been twenty minutes," I said, "since your last witty remark. I think this is a record."

 

He simply nodded, refusing to look at me. I pulled out of my parking space, waiting for him to start speaking. I want to know what's wrong, but I already have a sinking feeling I knew what.

 

"What's wrong with you?" I asked, annoyance tinting my tone.

 

He looked to me now, the mask gone, his eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?" he asked, incredulous. "What's wrong with you? Jae is a jealous wiener, who's frankly, an . Why the hell are you with him?"

 

I gaped briefly, closing my mouth to retort, "Jae is not a wiener and he's not an . He's a great guy who's worried, for some crazy reason, that I'd ever want to go off with you."

 

Have you ever said something you so wished you could retract? I'd said the latter half of my rant coldly, and I'd instantly regretted it.

 

He gave a short bark of bitter laughter. "Am I not good enough for you, Dara?"

 

Again I gaped, stunned at his question. There's no mirth in his voice, he's being serious.

 

"What? I didn't mean it to sound so harsh," I said, "does it matter?"

 

My eyes flitted briefly to his face before looking back onto the road. He's looking out the window, purposefully avoiding my gaze.

 

"It was just a question," he responded tersely, "you know your own mind, only not when you're around Jae, because when he throws some tantrum and he apologizes, seemingly all sincere, you agree to go out with him again."

 

"I agreed to go out with him because I like him!"

 

"Really? Because you didn't seem that comfortable to me when he was holding you. Do you really want to be with him?"

 

I gritted my teeth. "Jae's a good guy who's nice to me and cares about me. He's not some enigma, and I know what he's thinking and feeling most of the time." Damn. I've said too much. Jiyong will know I'm comparing him with Jae.

 

He turned to me sharply now, only I refused to look at him, keeping my eyes focused on the road.

 

"What other similarities have you deduced from us then?" he demanded, his voice rising in volume. "Who's better looking? Who makes you laugh? Who's known you for 14 years, while he's known you for what? Two months? And even then, how well does he really know you?"

 

I didn't bother answering. He wasn't being fair.

 

"Just shut up," I said.

 

Silence settled around us like an itchy blanket. It's uncomfortable as we sat in the tense ambience for a few, almost unbearable moments. And then he said, "Let me out."

 

I complied, pulling up beside a curb. We're near enough the school, so he'll be fine. I want – need him gone. I'm practically seething, my hands curled tightly on the wheel, because if I keep them there, they can't wrap around his neck.

 

He got out without a word.

 

 

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Errrrr. I hope you guys are still reading the Ambiguity Chapter extracts.. They're an important part of the story, so please do. Okay? ^_^

THANKS FOR READING!!!!! COMMENT!!!!!!! n________n