For some reason, everything I own smells faintly of magic, summer and Bom.

Not really of summer in general, more particularly one summer, which kinda explains the magic too. Nearly two years to the day I met Park Bom, a cheery, round cheeked girl a year younger than me. She is also half forest nymph, a virtually extinct species of the many feya that used to roam our earth. So rare in fact, that she is the last hali-nymph in existence. Hali-nymphs are half nymph, half human, built like humans but with bright eyes that represent their parenthood and partial powers - I'll explain that later. For gorgeous Bom that is a brilliant emerald green, overtaking the entire iris and pupil of her eye.

Since the last full blood forest nymph is dead, Bom is the present princess of Tartalia, the kingdom of the forest. Unfortunately I only discovered this last fact after I fell head over heels, full bore, pledge my heart, in love with her. This is a bit of a problem as I am entirely human (trust me, I've checked) and therefore off the table as a possible boyfriend or more (sigh, I am a hopeless romantic).

Now the whole Bom issue began way back, when I originally met her, as previously stated, nearly two years ago. I had managed to get shipped off on a delightful three-month exchange to somewhere in the middle of New South Wales, Australia. Apparently it was meant to help me with my English, but it was really an excuse for my parents to take a month long holiday before picking up my newly adopted baby sister.

Yep, my parents are those people, I'm one of six children and the only biologically related one in the bunch. Sometimes I doubt that though, since I personally believe I am nothing like my parents. They enjoy high tea with the deputy minister of the second party for the environmental consideration of road management or some other completely pointless thing involving politics. You could say my parents enjoy arguing but that wouldn't be politically correct. They enjoy having diplomatic discussions of meaningless nature.

I'd much rather go for a hike or read a book or go dirt biking with my friends, all of whom I swear are slightly insane. Daesung and little Seunghyun (I'm big Seunghyun in case anyone was wondering) love the adrenalin rush. I do too, to tell the truth, but what else can you expect from rather well off, (rich is such a lower class term, dear- bit of my mothers logic there) eighteen year olds. Lil Seung isn't eighteen yet but the boy can damn well drink like it, drive like it and is one of the best smooth talkers I've ever seen. Daesung is a bit of a wild boy but keeps it under covers for his straight-laced parents. They're both hoping he'll become a doctor or go into corporate management. I know for a fact he's taking three arts courses and several other 'slacker' courses next year at Uni.

Terribly impolite of me not to introduce myself, I am Choi Seunghyun, (soon-to-be second) youngest child in the well-known Choi family. We mix in circles with corporate heads, political ministers and blue bloods.

As previously mentioned, I was shipped off to a three month 'retreat' in the Australian outback. Delightful I know. I wasn't the only one ‘encouraged’ into this venture. I was sent with a small group of likeminded teenagers, two of which are now close friends of mine. Kwon Jiyong, very literally a child in an adult’s body and Dong Youngbae, a well brought up, engagingly nice guy who had, up until Jiyong got a hold of him, never had a girlfriend nor a fling. Jiyong, being the person he is, would not rest until he had sufficiently dunked Youngbae into the world of high class, platinum credit card only, $4500 suit parties. The sorts of parties where the girls wear Christian Louboutin heels and think nothing of spilling a seventy-dollar cocktail. This is the upper class side we left behind (in dismay) to 'get our hands dirty' on an Australian cattle ranch. Apparently it will help us 'think about others’. More like thank the lord that we live where we do and that it never ever gets this stinking hot.

Back to Bom, I met her on the excruciating plane trip out to this ‘ranch’ in an itty bitty little plane that would probably fit in my garage. We were the only two in incredible pain from the air pressure, vowing not to look out the window and hands white, gripping the armrests of our seats. I despise flying in its entirety, sitting in a metal tube with wings several kilometres up makes me want to kiss the ground when we land. I’m not quite sure why I hate it so much, but it might have to do with the plane crash my aunt died in when I was three. Not a pleasant memory.

Bom and I, having been voted ‘most likely to throw up’ had been delegated seats next to each other, in the very back of the plane. I thank whoever made this wise decision, as we could share plane horror stories and gum to help our ears ‘pop’.

During the middle of the flight, when both of us were pain free for the most part, we chatted. She was spending the summer with her cousin and his family, who owned the farm we were to be working on. This had occurred because her cousin’s wife had recently had a baby and they needed another set of hands. Bom concurred that the extra set of hands, was in fact, the wife, and she would be looking after the baby, as well as helping out with setting up the four boys and three girls who were on the retreat. Bom would be participating with us, to help even out numbers. During our conversation, I also learnt that Bom’s parents were going through a violent custody battle/divorce settlement and it wasn’t really working. The one thing both parents could agree on was that Bom shouldn’t be there for it.

I told her why I was sent on the retreat, about my quirky parents and adopted siblings, of whom I am the youngest.

Flashback

“Youngest? I never woulda guessed it.” Bom’s giggle filled my ears.

“Yeah, my sister was meant to be the last child, but ya know, I’m the only biological one. What does that say exactly? Hmm.” I pull a sarcastic face. “I was wondering, why do you speak Korean with an accent?”

“Ha, well ‘mate’,” Bom draws out the English word as I have noticed Australian people do. “I’m originally Korean, as you can see, but my parents emigrated out when I was seven. My cousin married an Australian girl he met at uni and since her family runs the property out here, it’s sort of a family thing. He switched degrees to agriculture and so here we are. They’ve only just recently bought a property and need a hand getting it up and running. His wife, Stephanie, has been brought up in the business, so I’m here to take the baby off her hands so she can actually run the place. I love my cousin, but this is all new to him and he’s got no idea what to do.”

“True dat.” I look around the painfully small plane. “Do you know any other people here?”

“No. I know the names but that’s about it. You?” She opens the window a tad, just to check our position and I can see from the look on her face that she regrets it.

“I met Jiyong and Youngbae on the flight out. We were all booked in with the same company and our seats were next to each other so we had a chat. It’s a long flight from Korea.”

“The girls are Gong Minji, Park Sandara and Lee Chae-rin. Apart from you, there’s Dong Youngbae, Teddy Park and the ever-delightful Kwon Jiyong.” Her nose crinkles adorably with the mention of Jiyong’s name.

“I see you’ve met Ji. Interesting one, isn’t he?”

“Interesting is not the word I would use.”

‘Ok guys, we’re heading down now, so make sure those seat belts are on, windows open and you chew your gum. We might have a little bit of turbulence, cause one of those famous Aussie summer thunderstorms is moving in later tonight.’ The pilots accent is true of something you would see as ‘Australian’ on a television show, with rounded vowels and lengthened ‘t’s.

I pop open another pack of gum; offer one to Bom as she dutifully uncovers the small window. We both start chewing exaggeratedly, hoping to avoid the pain of decompression.