chapter 1 (1/1)

Bomi hated America. She hated it so much the three worded sentence wasn't even nearly blunt enough to express her abhorrence.  It's not that she was an English illiterate Korean whose parents just parted forever that turned her into the depressed old hermit for two years. It was that she was a sixteen-year-old weakling, who had been pampered by everyone her whole life, suddenly cut off from all the sweet words and condolences and spat back at with a bitter, 'well there are millions of kids out there who are million times worse off than you, so face your reality, live with it and stop being such a baby.' She hated it because it was true. Right in front of her eyes it was so obviously true. Bomi wasn't prepared to grow up and accept that, but in America there was no mother to deliver her warm night snacks and there was no Baekhyun to cover her eyes for her.  On the second day of her arrival she wasn't ready to call her mother without her voice cracking and bursting into childish bawls, so she dialed Baekhyun's mom. She passed the line over to Baekhyun before Bomi could hang up. Or she passed the phone so that Bomi would ever hang up.  "Is it really badass there?" "It's not all guns and mafia ruling the place but it is kind of weird ... and unsettling." "Yeah try not to get yourself shot by mugs in one of those dodgy alleyways." "Try not to get yourself beaten up and excluded by normal kids there by being an abnormal freak you are." "I wouldn't be half the freak even if I tried next to you. Seriously what are you going to? Your English sucks balls." Baekhyun didn't ask about her mother and she was glad he didn't. She hung up on him once he started to rant about some princess locked in a tower in Amazon and figured he got bored with their conversation and resorted to video games. "Ugh you rude brat. I'm never talking to you ever again," she cursed before cutting off. Five days later she called him to ask about chemistry. A week later he called her to ask about breaking through to the next level at the arcade. Two weeks later she called him to ask about the baking ingredients for his signature banana muffins. A month later she called him again to ask about what branded pasta to use for the best Bolognese spaghetti. Another month later he wrote her an email complaining about homework and tests.  Two months later she wrote back and rebutted American schools had busier schedules. Two years later she realized they had stopped communicating with each other altogether. She also realized she started to talking to friends in her class, not significantly much - she would only talk about assignments and teachers, but she talked. Soon she found herself on YouTube searching the channels for videos on improving English pronunciations for Koreans. Eventually she was participating in class and being admitted into the honor society.  "Bom?" her father solemnly broached during their weekly dinner out, "Won't you consider maybe studying in America after high school? I mean they have as equally as excellent academic curriculums here as they have in Korea, if not better, and I'm pretty sure it'll give you a more valuable life experience in the bigger pool." She put down her fork. "I know. I've thought about that. I've just begun to settle and I get America's a really great opportunity for whatever I want to do. I just want to go back, dad. It's not mom or anything I just feel I left four years ago without really ending or continuing anything." She took a bit of her salmon. "I don't know. My life is just messy and I want to slow down for a bit." Her father grabbed the tissue from the side and brushed away the salmon sauce on her left cheek. She looked up in surprise. He looked down sighing and cutting his steak. "It's just that I won't be there with you Bom."  "Dad." "Not that I was always there for you, but you'll be alone again." "Dad." "I know I'm not the most affectionate father in the world but I know when my daughter is having a hard time." He placed a slice of steak on her plate. They ate in silence for a few minutes. "I'll come back if things get bad." Her father smiled doubtfully. "I mean I had no choice then, but this is my choice. And I'll always have a place to come back to." Bomi pretended to buy his veiled smile.   *************************  She slaps her cheeks, squeezing her face as she paces back and forth in front of the door. Okay, she was wrong. She wasn't ready. At least she should have taken tranquilizers to soothe her nerves.  "Oh fuck," she hisses as her phone starts screeching Fur Elise.  She mutes it off without checking for the caller and rings the bell with gritted teeth before she could be caught awkwardly fidgeting in front of the door by Baekhyun, or his mom, or his dad. She hears a giggle nearing from the other side of the door and soon it barges open, revealing a petite, dark-haired girl, whose smile fades upon registering Bomi. "Who are you?" the girl inquires, tilting her head with a slight frown. Her face is miniscule with an angular jaw line that whispers slight under-diet, black eyeliner that thickly outlines the top curve of her big eyes that make her look like a Maltese, and small pink lips, which Bomi concludes is the most attractive feature of her rather pretty, in overall, countenance. "Who are you?" she asks back. "Is it Chen or Lu?" a male voice calls from inside - Baekhyun, she recognizes. "I - uh - Baek would you come here for a sec?" She frowns and hears some rustling and loud closing of doors. Seconds pass like hours as she stands there feeling strangely guilty, rejected, and offended by some foreign girl who stood barricading her entrance to her second home she has lived with for fifteen years and more.  "Chorong, what -" he rants as he appears at the doorway.  He stares at Bomi dumbfoundedly, eyes rolling up and down her figure, mouth slightly agape, and neck hardening to the extent his veins are almost visible. "Oh." Yeah. Oh.  He doesn't smile.