"Hey," I called, slinging my bag into a corner.

 

I'm met by an enthusiastic "Yo" from Daesung, an even bubblier "Hey" from Bom,only to receive a sullen "Hi Dara" from both Jae and Seunghyun. What's up with them today?

 

I raised a questioning eyebrow atBom, who directed me over to a corner and whispers, "we walked past the library earlier, and saw you with the hottest guy ever. Is he your boyfriend?"

 

"No!" My face flushed, embarrassed, my voice having inadvertently passed the inconspicuous level, grabbing the attention of the guys.

 

"That's what Jae thought, but you guys looked mighty close." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Are you sure?"

 

I covered my face with my hand, debating how much to divulge. Nothing had gone on, but something could have – would have, had the librarian not made a sudden appearance. Otherwise, I'm not sure what would have happened. Would I have realized what the hell I was doing before?

 

"I hate him, honest, we don't get on. He just surprised me from behind," I explained.

 

She nodded her head, seeming to accept it, but there's a look on her face that tells me she's simply humoring me.

 

"Well, in that case, can you introduce me?"

 

"No!" The guys' eyes latched back onto me again, curious. I hold up a finger – just a second.

 

Bom's lips are stretched into an annoyingly knowing smile, her arms folded as if to say yeah right. "I won't say anything to Jae and Seunghyun," she said. "They were both ready to charge in when they saw you together.Daesungand I were preparing to restrain them, especially when we saw your frown turn upside down and…" She cut off, implying that they saw the almost-kiss.

 

Mortification seemed too slight a word for what I feel at the moment. Perhaps perpetual humiliation infused with disgust and confusion and…what the hell had I been thinking? What the hell had he been thinking?

 

"Not what it looked like," I said, then, "why were Jae and Seunghyun about to charge in?"

 

Bom fixed me with a look, as if to say are you serious?

 

I waited.

 

"You really don't know? Open your eyes Dara, they're totally…”

 

"You guys coming?" Daesungyelled, interrupting Bomin mid flow, "I'm ready to rock."

 

We rolled our eyes as he began spinning his cello around, making the rock gesture on his hand, banging his head up and down to nonexistent music.

 

"Yeah, we're coming."

 

What had she been about to say?

 

 

 

 

"I'm home," I yelled, thankful to be back. It had been a long day. I hadn't seen Jiyong since the library incident, for which I was grateful, and as practice had progressed, Jae and Seunghyun had perked up, for which I was also grateful.

 

"Dara!" A short 12-year-old girl suddenly charged towards me, her dark wiry hair tickling my chin as she squishes me into a hug.

 

"I haven't seen you in, like, forever! How's College? Meet any cute guys? Do you miss high school?"

 

Wow. I'd forgotten how much of a motor mouth Ji Eun, my sister's best friend, could be.

 

When she finally relinquished her hold on me, she looked at me expectantly. What had she just said? The words had seemed merged into one looong, without-pause-for-breath sentence.

 

"Are you enjoying your course?" she asked.

 

I nodded as I kick off my converse. "It's good. My Creative Writing class is great, and my teacher isn't bad either. A tough task-setter, but it will all pay off."

 

She nodded enthusiastically, practically bouncing up and down. Had someone given her coffee?

 

"Did she tell you Jiyong's in all of her classes as well?" Durami asked, walking into the room, leaning against the doorway.

 

Ji Eun's eyes lit up, taking on a wide O. "The hot one?"

 

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "He's not that good looking."

 

Durami pointed a finger at me, exclaiming, "But you think he's good looking!" In unison, Ji Eun protested, "He's gorgeous! If I were just a few years older…"

 

I shook my head, disappointed at the vain remark. "Personality is more important, irrelevant of how attractive someone is. He's an , simple as."

 

Ji Eun and Durami turned to each other grinning, wearing that look of knowing I'd glimpsed earlier on Bom'sface.

 

I demanded, "What's with the look?"

 

Durami feigned indifference, her face a faux show of innocence. Innocent my .

 

"What look?" Ji Eun said, having took the hint from Durami's whole what-are-you-on-about charade.

 

I fixed them with a hard stare: you know what, and waited.

 

They're saved, however, when my mom entered the hall, giving the troublesome duo a distraction to leave.

 

"Hey Dara, school good?"

 

Before I can even issue a reply, she asked, "I need your help." Oh no.

 

"I'm helping to organize an adoption day at the dog shelter, to try and see whether we can find some of them a home. We're kind of stuck for volunteers…"

 

She left the question hanging in the air. Damn. I'm not particularly good with animals, or take much interest in them. That's more of Mom and Durami's department. They just love 'em, Durami even wanting to follow in Mom's footsteps and become a vet.

 

"Um, what about Durami? Wouldn't she be better suited to this kind of thing?" I'm stalling, I know, but trying to persuade people to buy a rangy mutt instead of sitting down with a good book? No competition.

 

"She's already helping," Mom explained, "I wouldn't be asking if we really weren't stuck because I know you're not much of an animal lover."

 

I sighed. "When is it?"

 

She smiled, knowing she's hooked me in: hook line and sinker. "Next Saturday. Thanks Dara," she said, squeezing my shoulder before walking back into the kitchen.

 

Magnanimous Dara, that's me.

 

 

 

It's Monday morning and my second week at College. I felt two potent emotions as I walk into school: dread and anxiety, the latter causing my stomach to feel as if a hundred butterflies are restlessly flapping around in there. Get a grip, Dara.

 

The almost-kiss had flashed throughout my mind a dozen times over the weekend, and for the life of me, cannot ascertain as to why I'd leaned forward, why I'd felt some compulsion to do so, and why Jiyong had also. Had he been leading me on? Was it some joke that I'd spectacularly fallen for?

 

As I'm rounding the corner I spotted him, talking in hushed tones on the phone. I flattened myself against the wall, hiding just behind the corner so he can't see me, but still discern what he's saying.

 

"Yeah, okay." He paused and said, "Don't worry sweetie, I'll see you soon."

 

My heart sunk when he said "sweetie". I hadn't realized he currently had a girlfriend, because although Jiyong had been Mr. Popular at school, he'd been very selective about his girlfriends, having dated only two that I can remember. That's his one redeeming quality, I suppose. He didn't flit from girl to girl like most of the jocks at school, even though he could have had anyone. All had swooned over him, even now. All except me, of course.

 

He hung up and put his phone in his pocket, sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked tired.

 

I have to get to class, irrelevant of Jiyong or no Jiyong, so I rounded the corner as if I'd heard nothing at all.

 

When he saw my approach he dropped his hand from his face, no emotions discernible save from his eyes, which appeared to widen slightly, as if he's…relieved?

 

"Dara, I need a favor."

 

"Doesn't everyone right now," I mumbled.

 

He raised an eyebrow but doesn't pursue my comment. "Can you give my essay in for me?"

 

"Why can't you? We're supposed to have class now."

 

He rifled through his bag for the work, shoving it into my reluctant hands. "Something's come up."

 

 

 

I informed Mr. Yang that Jiyong's unwell and that he's sorry he can't attend – how's that for thinking on your feet – and that he's given me his essay to hand in. And so, because I obviously have some contact with Jiyong, I will of course be able to hand him a novel we'll now be studying for Creative Writing (Ambiguity is still a must-read for class, only it will be studied in English) so that he won't fall behind because Mr. Yang wants to have an in depth discussion on the first chapter tomorrow, for which I assured him Jiyong would be attending. That's why, right now, I'm standing outside Jiyong's front door.

 

Although he lived a few streets from me, the houses where I lived appear seemingly identical. It's only the array of colors used to paint their doors that distinguish any difference, the state of gardens another dissimilar trait. Jiyong's lawn is overgrown, the flowerbeds sprouting weeds, the plants wilting. I guess they haven't had time recently, what with everything going on, to render gardening as much of a priority.

 

I knocked on the door, that previous feeling of nervousness and anxiety surfacing like before.

 

When nobody answered I'm hopeful they're out and I won't have to deal with him. But after a second knock, the door opened, Jiyong standing in the doorway, his eyebrows raised and his eyes widening slightly. Surprise!

 

"Dara," he said, an almost indiscernible upturn of his lips.

 

I stuck the book out towards him and say, "I told Mr. Yang you were ill, since you didn't actually tell me why you couldn't make it. He wanted me to give you this. Chapter 1 for tomorrow if you'll be gracing us with your presence."

 

Jiyong's grin only stretched further across his face as he casually leaned against the doorframe, his overlong fringe flopping into his eyes.

 

"Dara-unnie?" A small voice came from further inside the house: Dami's. "Is that you?"

 

Deukkie made an appearance then, squeezing in front of Jiyong. "Aren't you going to invite Noona in?" he asked.

 

I'm about to protest, but he grabbed my hand and Jiyong moved to the side, allowing me entrance.

 

"We made cookies yesterday, like when we were at yours. Do you want one?" Deukkie asked.

 

I smiled, "Sure, that'd be great."

 

He pulled me into the living room where Dami is lying on the settee, snuggled up in a blanket, a bucket beside her head.

 

"Hey Dami, what's wrong?" I crouched by the side of the settee and moved her hair from off her sweaty brow.

 

"I've been sick all day and Jiyong had to fetch me from school this morning," she explained.

 

"Oh dear." It all seemed to click then. He was referring to Dami when he'd said "sweetie" on the phone. I feel so stupid because there was no reason for me to feel so miffed at him for having, what I'd supposed at the time, a girlfriend. He may have one right now for all I know and why would it matter anyway? I don't care, I don't like Jiyong like that. In fact, I don't like him at all, full stop – friend or whatever. He's my archenemy, and that's that.

 

"Jiyong says it's just a 24-hour bug thing and I'll feel loads better tomorrow."

 

I smiled. "That's good, it's not nice feeling bad."

 

"Noona?" Deukkie called from inside the kitchen.

 

Jiyong's leaning against the door as he pointed to the kitchen.

 

I brushed past him lightly – why can't he just move? – and blushed. Stupid blushing.

 

There's a pile of plates stacked into the sink, a broom and brush lined against the wall. Papers and books litter the dining table situated to the side of the counter, an empty fruit bowl placed in its center. This is obviously where Jiyong had been studying before I'd come.

 

"Here you go, Dara," Deukkie said, pushing a plate towards me from behind the counter. I grabbed a cookie and munched on it, sticking up my thumb to show how good it is and he smiled.

 

I didn’t realize there's someone else in the room until I heard the short sharp whack of a stick against the wall. The stick is white and is clasped in the hand of a tall, pale boy. His hair is still the black as I remember, his face splattered with tiny freckles. But his eyes…they're no longer the piercing eyes they'd once been. He wore no glasses now and his eyes are a washed out brown. He's not looking at me when I said, "Seungri?" I knew then that he can't see me, he's blind. What had happened?

 

I felt a pang of sorrow and I'm struck with not knowing what to say or what to do.

 

"Noona," he finally said, his right hand outstretched, searching for the counter. When he found it, he laid his arm across and smiled. "Long time no see," he paused, "or hear."

 

I nodded, suddenly remembering that he won't be able to see it. "Yeah, it has. How've you been?"

 

He shrugged. "Okay, I suppose. How much has Jiyong told you about what's been going on?"

 

"I know about your dad leaving, and I'm sorry about that," I replied truthfully.

 

He nodded. "So you didn't know about this?" He waved a hand across his unresponsive eyes, indicating his loss of sight.

 

"No," I said quietly.

 

"I suppose this is kind of a surprise then," Seungri continued. "It's called Retintis Pigmentosa. I used to have problems seeing at night or in poorly lit areas when I was little, the problem gradually getting worse until… Well, let's just say it got diagnosed a little too late."

 

I can't even comprehend how lost and helpless he must have felt. "I'm so sorry, Seungri."

 

He waved it off, "Not your fault," and grinned. "There are some positive points, I suppose. The girls are more than happy to help me get to class, leading me by the arm. They're going to issue me with my own personal reader soon, who'll help me with me work and stuff. I'm hoping it'll be a girl."

 

I rolled my eyes at his ist-pig like comments – he can be just like Jiyong sometimes – but happy he's trying to joke about it, and not smolder in self-pity, which I greatly admired him for.

 

Jiyong walked into the room then, heading for the sink and grabbing a cloth, rinsing it in water. He walked back out and, thanking Deukkie and Seungri for the cookie, I followed him. When I walked in, he's crouching beside the settee, brushing the hair off a sleeping Dami's forehead. He placed the wet cloth across her brow and pulled the blankets up closer to her chin. It felt so alien seeing Jiyong so nice and caring, looking after his younger siblings like this.

 

"Did I miss a lot in class?" he asked, coming up from his hunched position beside Dami.

 

"Um, we just went over Ambiguity some more in English. Basically, just recapping the last chapter we were supposed to have read at home, if you did it."

 

"I did," he interjected, "I'm a good boy, I do my homework."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Want me to give you a pat on the head and a lolly?"

 

"I'll take the latter, I have quite a sweet tooth."

 

I ignored him and continued, "Mr. Yang gave us some tips and examples on writing descriptions for our prose assignment. We looked at the anthology on pages, um, 12, 15 and 18. If you do that, you're fine."

 

"I'm more than fine, Santokki. I'm incredibly good looking."

 

I gave a short laugh. "Just keep telling yourself that, Fang."

 

I headed towards the door, fumbling with the stiff lock when I reached it. Jiyong leaned over, his arm brushing against mine. I know I'm blushing, and I try to hid my face to avoid any teasing or ist comments from him. He snapped back the latch with ease, and I can just imagine that cocky smirk of his as he heard my huff.

 

The door's now open and I stepped outside, saying, "Tell Dami I hope she feels better soon, and say bye to Seungri and Deukkie for me."

 

"Will do, and thanks Dara," he said, closing the door softly behind him.

 

 

 

 

---

 

GUYS, AMBIGUITY IS NOT A REAL BOOK. THOSE PASSAGES ARE ALL MADE UP. :-)

Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GIRL WHO INTRODUCED ME TO G-DRAGON. I'LL FOREVER THANK YOU, SANDARA PARK. :-)

#2NE8DARA