It's now Saturday, the week having flown by in a torrent of essays, poetry writing, and assigned reading. Jiyong and I haven't spoken since Monday, save through physical gestures (me flipping him the bird) when I'd noticed he was still using my pen, the one that had rolled under his desk and he'd picked up on our first day here. It's just plain rude that he hasn't yet returned it to me.

 

"Dara? Can you fill up these bowls?" I sighed as I picked up the dog bowls, filling them up by the sink. Why had I agreed to help at the dog shelter again? I should have been at home, immersing myself in the vicarious experiences created by accomplished writers, i.e. a Dean Koontz book that's just waiting to be read. Instead, I'm laying down newspapers and passing round treats, trying to goad people into taking home a dog. I will admit though, some of them are pretty damn cute, what with those big dark eyes, floppy ears and wagging tail. Cue the awwwws.

 

I placed the bowls down, only to be met by a small, brown pug dog. He cocked his head to the side and I smiled – how sweet – only to scowl and curse when he cocked up his leg, peeing up the side of my leg. Eeeew, how gross!

 

I jerked back, grabbing the bottom of my sodden jeans, my nose wrinkled in disgust. I gave the dog my best death glare and said, "No more treats for you. I'm watching you pooch. Nobody messes with Dara."

 

"But it's so much fun!"

 

I knew that voice and I cringed. He's like some demonic boomerang (strange simile, I know) that keeps making these unexpected and unwanted appearances.

 

I turned round, only to find Jiyong wearing that sardonic smirk of his, with Dami and Deukkie on either side of him.

 

"Unnie!" Dami came running towards me, flailing and hesitant once she saw my wet trouser leg.

 

Deukkie erupted into fits of laughter, crying, "A dog peed on Dara-noona, a dog peed up her leg!" I gave him a mock scowl, surprised to find Jiyong chuckling away also. It's so rare to hear his laugh – it's a nice laugh. It's just unfortunate that it's normally directed at my expense.

 

"Y'know," Jiyong said, "that means the dog likes you. It's puppy love." Both him and Deukkie succumbed to bouts of laughter once again. Ha, ha.

 

"Oppa's going to get me a dog, unnie," Dami gushed. Her face has taken on a broad smile, her eyes lighting up. She looked immensely better from the last time I'd seen her. She now has color in her cheeks and she looks to have bundles of energy, hyped up by the prospect of a new companion.

 

"Great!" I said.

 

"It's for my 7th birthday, which is in six weeks. Oppa said it will be an early present and I have to look after it loads."

 

I smiled. "That's nice of him."

 

Deukkie gave a small chuckle. "She's been asking for months and months. She used bambi eyes in the end, and hyung can never resist them."

 

I raised my eyebrows, a grin stretching its way onto my lips as I look over at Jiyong, noting the barely discernible reddening of his cheeks. My grin stretched even wider.

 

"There are some more dogs over there, if you haven't taken a look already," I said to Deukkie and Dami. She grabbed his hand, practically dragging him over to a couple of cute King Charles that are bounding after each other, issuing short, high-pitched yaps every now and then.

 

I stood next to Jiyong and elbowed him. "She has you wrapped around her little finger. Do you have no will power?"

 

He blanched at me and said, "Those bambi eyes are lethal, no one can resist them."

 

I shook my head. "Shameful."

 

He pointed to a sign on the far door, and said, "The sign says not to let the dogs out of their cages." He gave me a pointed look and points at me, noting that we are outside the cages, and smirked.

 

"Don't worry," I said, "we've made an exception for you."

 

"Are you implying I'm a dog?"

 

I paused, pretending to think about it, tapping a sole finger against my chin. "I was, but now, I think it would be an insult to dogs."

 

"Wow," Durami said, walking towards us with a bag of dog food, "I see no love is lost between you two."

 

Jiyong slung an army around my shoulders, and I shrugged it off, hoping a blush hasn't crept its way onto my cheeks. "It's true," he said, "we're in love."

 

"Yeah right," I sneered, "I can barely stand you. So, love? Out of the question."

 

He shrugged. "They say hate is the closest to love. And anyway, what's not to love? I am devastatingly…"

 

"Unattractive," I supplied.

 

He shook his head, and continued "handsome, intelligent, witty, strong…"

 

I latched onto his last adjective and interjected, "You are strong, aren't you?"

 

He faltered, surprised at my admission. er.

 

"I mean, just look at those muscles!" I continued. Okay, I will admit it, Jiyong is quite well-built, not overly so, but just nice enough so that you can make out a six-pack beneath his tight tee-shirt.

 

I think I'm staring and when my eyes locked back with his, he's wearing that silly smirk of his, eyes sparkling with humor. I'd been caught.

 

Durami giggled, and I have the urge to whack both of them. Hard.

 

"So," I said, taking Durami's heavy bag off her, shoving it into Jiyong's arms, hoping my face isn't scarlet. "Why don't you help us out."

 

"Pleasure," he mumbled, carrying the bag with ease. Damn. That was heavy! I thought he would have at least staggered back or somethin', especially when I'd practically shoved it at him. "Where to?"

 

Durami replied, "If you just go around and fill up any empty bowls, that would be great."

 

"Could you keep an eye on Dami and Deukkie?" he asked.

 

"Yeah, don't worry."

 

When Jiyong's out of sight, Durami turned to me, smiling brightly, her arms crossed over her chest.

 

"What?" I snapped.

 

"You were practically checking him out," she whispered.

 

I think my eyes just popped out of their sockets. "No! ‘Course not."

 

Her voice took on a higher octave, in what I think, is supposed to be an imitation of me, "Oh Jiyong, you're sooo strong."

 

"I did not say it like that. My voice was infused with sarcasm – it practically dripped off each word."

 

She shook her head. "That doesn't explain why your eyes lingered over his body for a long time."

 

I'm about to protest when she continued, "I don't blame you. He's hot, Dara. Girls probably gawk at him all the time."

 

"They do," I said, my voice tinged with annoyance.

 

She scrutinized my face for a moment, "I know we bicker sometimes and stuff, but we're still sisters, and we really are quite close."

 

I nodded my head, wandering where she's going with all this sentimental crap.

 

"If you and Jiyong are together, you can…"

 

I stopped her there, and gave a strained laugh. "Yeah, that would be the day. We rile each other up the wrong way all the time. I hate him, simple as."

 

She shrugged. "But you know, if there ever was…"

 

I hold up my hand, not wanting to listen to any more of this Jiyong and I together drivel. I believe the idiom, when pigs fly, would be appropriate for a potential relationship between my archenemy and I.

 

She nodded and pointed to my jean leg, the one soaked with dog pee. She failed to stifle a laugh, clutching her stomach as she succumbed to fits of laughter. It isn't that funny. "Why don't you clean up round back?" she suggested, barely keeping it together to utter the simple proposition.

 

I rolled my eyes and head towards the office, but just before I'm about to open the door, I spotted the Black Headed Wonder and a couple of girls from my English class. Okay, I swear I'm not purposefully eavesdropping, but when I heard them mention my name, I can't help but linger for just a little longer. They're just round the corner, so I flattened myself against the wall, straining to hear their voices over the yapping of the dogs.

 

"I just saw Jiyong talking to that girl in our class again," a girl said.

 

"Who?"

 

"The one who has a weird name, Sandara."

 

"Seriously?" I recognized this voice as the Black Headed Wonder (I think I'm going to abbreviate her name to BHW, it's a bit of a mouthful). "He only ever seems to talk to her. Whenever I try to engage him in any conversation, he either gives me a one word answer, or nods or shakes his head." Ha!

 

"They're not together are they?"

 

"God, I hope not," said BHW. "I don't know what he could ever see in her. She's not even pretty."

 

"Far from it," another agreed. "She dresses like a boy."

 

BWH continued, "She's always wearing baggy clothes, she never wears makeup, and her hair's always tied up in that messy ponytail. I bet she's never even had a boyfriend. Who'd want to go out with an ugly girl like that?"

 

Ouch. My heart sunk and I'm surprised by the effect her harsh words have on me. She's right. I've never really had a boyfriend, unless you'd constitute one lousy date as having one. I looked down at my clothes: I'm wearing a simple hoodie and jeans, my feet clad in an old pair of Converse. I've never taken much notice of fashion, always preferring to wear something practical and comfy. I don't wear much jewelry, save a watch, and no makeup has touched my features since Durami forced me to wear some for my 18th birthday when we'd gone out to some expensive restaurant. I suddenly feel…I don't know what I feel, but I don't like it.

 

Instead of tucking my overlong fringe behind my ears like I usually do, I let it hang in front of my face, and went to get cleaned up, not wanting to hear any more of their ing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Unnie?"

 

I'm drying my jeans off with a couple of paper towels when Dami's head peeped from behind the door, a brown Chinese Sharpei in her small arms.

 

"This is my dog. Isn't he adorable?"

 

Deukkie followed behind, Jiyong lingering beside the door, a smile gracing his lips as he watched Dami gush about her dog.

 

"He is," I agreed, behind his ear. I'll admit, he is kinda cute. "What's his name?"

 

"Gaho," she said, "like from the Super 8. It's my favorite film."

 

I nodded my head. "That's a great name. It's one of my favorite films as well."

 

Jiyong poked his head out the door again, shuts it, and came to stand by Dami and Deukkie.

 

I raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

 

"No, not really."

 

Deukkie piped in, "He's hiding from some girls."

 

"Not hiding," he denied, "just avoiding."

 

Dami scratched behind Gaho's ears and said, "Why are you avoiding them if you call them tarts? You like tarts, you always make sure we buy them every time we go shopping."

 

Jiyong's eyes widen slightly as I stifled a fit of laughter. He bit his lip, panicking, because how can he explain such a thing to a six-going-on-seven year old?

 

"I think," I began, "Jiyong may have meant that they like jam tarts as well, and he's avoiding them, um, because…" I paused, not sure how to continue.

 

"Because they keep stealing my tarts and I don't like that," Jiyong finished. Okay, it's pretty lame, but if it will satisfy Dami, then so be it.

 

She nodded her head and set Gaho on the floor, tickling his belly as he rolled over, kicking his leg out as she does so. Dogs are such funny things.

 

I mouthed to Jiyong, tart stealer?

 

He shrugged, "You inspired me, what with you being a cookie stealer and all."

 

I blanched. "I would never steal someone's cookie. Ever. I'd never be that cruel to anyone." I paused, and amended, "Except maybe you, of course."

 

"Oh, I believe that," he agreed. "Do you remember our first day of Kindergarten?"

 

"How could I forget? We had our first big fight that day, because you stole my juice."

 

He shook his head. "Yeah, because you stole my cookie first. I've never made a habit of stealing snacks without a sufficient reason."

 

I frowned, trying to remember. Had I stolen his cookie? And why?

 

"It was the beginning of recess," he began, "and I left my cookie on the steps while I was trying to tie my shoe lace. When I looked up, my cookies are gone and you have two in your hand. I ran after you but you've already eaten them both, so I took your juice. It was only fair."

 

I can kind of picture it now - it's faint and hazy, but I can just about remember seeing a cookie on the steps and thinking about how lucky I was because I'd have two of them to eat. But even so…

 

"Why on earth would you ever leave a cookie on the steps? It was just waiting to be eaten. I can't be held responsible for your careless actions, Fang."

 

"It wasn't yours to take," he retorted. He's closer than he was before, his warm breath tickling my face. I stand my ground, narrowing my eyes.

 

I argued, "How was I supposed to know? It was left discarded on the steps, it wasn't…"

 

I was cut off by Dami's timid voice. "Are you two arguing?"

 

"No Dami," Jiyong said, his features soft, "just having a healthy debate. I was just correcting Dara on some important details she'd forgotten."

 

She nodded and asked, "Why does Dara keep calling you Fang?"

 

I explained, "It's just a nickname I gave him when we were little."

 

"Can I call you Fang?" Deukkie asked, removing his hand from where he'd been Gaho from behind his ears. The dog tilted its head to the side, nudging his arms with its head, demanding attention. I can just imagine Gaho thinking, What about me?

 

"It sounds like a cool nickname," he continued, patting Gaho's head.

 

Jiyong shrugged, "If you want. It used to kind of annoy me, the nickname, but it's grown on me over the years."

 

"I could think of a few other things to call you," I said, innocently smiling as he glared at me.

 

"You mean handsome? Unbelievably attractive?"

 

I gave a short bark of laughter. "What's unbelievable is that you think you are all of those things."

 

A grin flitted across his face. "You can't keep denying your feelings for me Santokki, it's just not healthy."

 

I scoffed. "What's not healthy is me having to look at…"

 

A barking Gaho, and a Dami looking at us with concern stopped me in mid-flow. "You guys are arguing a bit like Mom and Dad used to, only they used to yell a lot louder and daddy didn't smile like Jiyong does when you argue."

 

I suddenly felt bad for 'arguing' around the kids, too caught up in getting one over with Jiyong.

 

Jiyong crouched down to her level and gave a sad smile. "We're not arguing really, Dami. We're just winding each other up like Seungri and I do sometimes. We don't mean what we're saying, we're really just goofing around."

 

She wrapped her scrawny arms around him and said, "Okay."

 

He looked at his watch and frowned. "We better get going guys."

 

Dami picked Gaho up, her face suddenly taking on a look of apprehension. "What about those girls who want to steal your jam tarts?"

 

"It's ok, Dami," I said, smiling. "You can all go out the back way, so you can avoid 'em."

 

She perked up and smiled. "Thanks Dara-unnie."

 

Jiyong caught my eye, giving me an actual smile.

 

And my heart gave a very small tight squeeze.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as Mom, Durami, and our newly adopted dog, Dougie, are inside, I shut the front door and leaned against it. I slid down, exhausted.

 

"I'm so tired," I groaned.

 

Durami kicked my foot. "Wimp."

 

The dog came panting over towards me, its long tongue hanging out. I scrunched up my nose. "Can we give dogs breath mints?" I asked seriously, waving a hand in front of my face, futilely trying to wave off the dire odor.

 

"No," Mom shouted from inside the kitchen.

 

I asked, "What about brushing its teeth?"

 

"Are you volunteering?"

 

I stood up and stretched, cringing when I heard my back click. Maybe Durami's right, I am getting old.

 

There's a mirror in the hall and I look at my reflection. My hair looks unruly, several strands having crept out of my ponytail, flopping in front of my eyes. My eyes are also slightly bloodshot from long nights absorbed in books and writing. My face is plain, no discerning features that would constitute for attractiveness, and my hair is brown, my eyes brown. I frowned, unable to dislodge those y remarks uttered from BWH and her clan of witches: "She's not even pretty." My appearance has never bothered me before, but now, it does.

 

"Dara?" Durami called, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and hall. "Don't look in the mirror for too long, you'll break it."

 

I forced out a short laugh and mock scowled at her. I must have looked upset or something, because she frowned and asked, "You okay? I was only joking, you know. You're really pretty."

 

I forced a smile, trying not to divulge too much in self-pity. "Yeah, sure."

 

"I'm being honest, Dara. You have really nice hair and eyes, and let's face it, you have a slim figure to die for. "

 

I shook my head, certain she's just feeling guilty because of a comment that should have sparked a quick witted retort from me, and not turned me into a poor self-pitying sap. "I dress like a boy and I'm plain looking," I stated.

 

She shook her head, "You're not plain looking, as I've already said. But you could dress a little girlier. Let me dress you tomorrow, it'll be fun."

 

I raised an eyebrow. "For you or me?"

 

She rolled her eyes. "I think you'll be surprised what new clothes and a bit of makeup can do. I'll have to do something with your hair as well: maybe straighten it or something. When I'm finished with you, Jiyong won't be able to take his eyes off you."

 

I nodded and smiled, pausing mid-nod when I registered what she's just said about Jiyong. Why would he care?

 

 

 

 

---

*Gaho-Super 8 connection is made up. 

 

Nothing's happening, I know. I promise it would be eventful soon. :)

Thanks for the subs guys. And the comments. Love you all =)

Follow me on:

twitter: @OhItsLAI

tumblr: ohitskwonji.tumblr.com

 

 

 

TOTL update... coming SOON.