Nimble thumbs fly across the phone screen, responding to the message she received from Tyler Crowley only seconds prior.

"Jalmos," Dasom curses, as she re-reads over the text she just sent. (Shit.)

"Wow, you want to touvh him Dasom? Yeah, it's real sexy when you have to correct a typo when sexting," she berates herself, thumbs quickly correcting her message.

Message from Tyler Crowley:

Don't worry baby, I don't like smart girls.

Dasom looks at the screen in disbelief. Did he just call her dumb? She slumps against the back of her desk chair, eyes downcast.

Dasom wasn't the brightest student. Having been raised in various foster homes with guardians who spoke her native language, learning the english language wasn't a pressing matter. However, in the past year alone living with the Hamilton's, she thought she had made a rather impressive dent in learning the language.

She regularly attended tutoring sessions in her free periods and every Monday and Wednesday night curtesy of Forks' High School. Angela Weber, her tutor, knew her first language well and had recently congratulated Dasom on her progress.

It was through Angela's tutoring session where she ran into Tyler. She had been leaving her Monday night session and as she was walking through the library exit, Tyler ran into her. He had helped her up from the ground, apologising profusely before asking for her number with a sly wink.

When she had gotten back to the Hamilton's later that night, her cheeks were still aflame and her heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings. He had already sent her a text message but she had wanted to "play it cool" like her friend, Arleen would often say.

She waited fifteen minutes before sending back a bashful thank you in response to his compliment on her skirt. It was a cute bumble bee covered white skirt that complimented her olive skin tone and stuck to her legs like velcro.

It had been a Christmas gift from the Hamilton's youngest foster child and her roommate, Miranda earlier that year. Dasom didn't like to think of them as her foster siblings because to be siblings, you'd need to feel compassion towards them. Dasom didn't feel that way.

She never felt the need to connect with anyone in her foster homes or schools she was attending because what was the point? She'd either be on to the next home soon or she'd stick around until her eighteenth when she'd be inevitably kicked out.

Dasom knew the drill. She'd been in enough homes in her seventeen years to know the signs of displacement the guardians would begin to show before she was booted.

The vibration of a message notification against the shared wooden desk interrupted her hurt over Tyler's poorly constructed insult.

Dasom knew it was Tyler texting her again because she only had eight contacts in her phone and only one would be texting her this late.

She lifts the fallen phone from the wooden surface and shuffles forward, leaning her elbows against the desk. She unlocks her phone with a single swipe, and opens the message with a hesitant finger.

When she first got her phone, she would confuse the numbers together and decided against having a password all together. While the Hamilton's could be overbearing in their desire for Dasom to join in on their "family outings", they respected her privacy.

Message from Tyler Crowley:

Dasom, you're hot. Wanna show me some more skin?

Dasom blinks in surprise at the text, a blush coating her ivory skin. A high pitched squeal escapes her mouth in her excitement, understanding the compliment to be of high demand from other girls her age.

Dasom didn't consider herself conceited in any way, however, she didn't shy away from compliments on her appearance.

For Dasom, her appearance was the one thing she has managed to keep constant as she was moved from home to home. While her grades and social skills suffered, her appearance was always kept pristine.

Setting her phone down on the wooden surface and rolls the cotton material of her cardigan down her arms. Folding the cardigan in half, Dasom throws it in the hamper beside the door in the corner of the room.

Opening the camera of her phone, Dasom rearranges the brunette strands to her liking, framing her face in a way that accentuates her slim cheekbones. She was told by Mary Hamilton, the maternal guardian, a handful of times and whilst she had a strong disliking towards the woman, she appreciated the confidence boost.

With a tilt of her hips in the metal chair, her chest looked close to popping out of her cotton nighty. With a few clicks of the camera and the sound of the shutter echoing throughout the quiet room, Dasom tilts her head delicately and smiles at the lens.

Dasom shuffles forward on the seat, elbows propped on the desk as she eagerly selects the sajin app and flicks through the recent selfies. (photos.)

With a pout on her lips, Dasom deletes the few that were blurry or caught her mid-blink. She was left with three potential selfies that would be cute to send to Tyler.

Her hair was perfect in the first selfie whereas her boobs looked slouched and the second one was a great shot of her boobs while her hair looked flat. Dasom decided on the third that had the best of both features and pressed send without hesitation, confident in her decision.

BANG.

The sound of metal clashing against metal caused Dasom to jolt in surprise as the life was brought back into the once quiet house. With a small groan, Dasom leaves her phone open on the desk as she steps up from the chair and walks across the room.

Her socked feet drag across the carpet floor slowly as she exits the bedroom and makes her way down the hall. She keeps her eyes forward, refusing to glance at the photo frames littering the green walls.

Both Mary and Steven Hamilton were dedicated on nailing photos of the kid's achievements whether it be Miranda holding her acceptance letter to Forks' High School late last year or the twins grinning after winning the three-legged race at the park.

The Hamilton's even had a framed photo of Dasom the day after her braces were removed. Despite Dasom having the braces on for two years before she met the Hamilton couple, they were overjoyed and wanted to commemorate the achievement inside a mahogany frame.

While some achievements are less impressive than others, the Hamilton's had a strict policy of all being displayed with one exception. All of the foster children would have an equal amount of achievements shown on the wall and much to Dasom's dismay, this exception included her.

"Annyeong, Dasom," Klarke's baritone voice calls out before the brunette has rounded the corner.  (Hello.)

Dasom furrows her eyebrows in confusion at the younger twin's greeting but acknowledges him never the less. "Annyeong." (Hello.)

She glances over the kitchen, noting who was present in the room. The twins, Klarke and Kent, who were a year younger than her were seated at the kitchen table with Miranda. Klarke was folding the napkins into what looked to be a frog for Miranda while Kent was reading the book he was asked to complete over the two month summer break. Dasom reminds herself to do the same after she finished talking with Tyler.

Kent glances up from behind the pages of Macbeth and and gives her a quick wave of his thin brown hand, green eyes shining under the kitchen light before flicking back to the yellowed pages of Shakespeare.

"Are you still talking to your boyfriend?" Miranda giggles, her blue eyes glinting with mischief and Dasom finds herself throwing a decorative pillow at the fourteen-year-old.

"He's not my boyfriend," Dasom responds with a click of her tongue.

"Who? That Crowley kid?" Steven questions, walking out of his home office with yesterday's newspaper in hand.

Dasom pauses, not wanting to agree because then more questions could be asked but if she were to deny his statement, she knew Steven would keep digging until he found out who was talking to her.

"Well?" Steven asks, putting the newspaper down on the coffee table and raises his eyebrows causing an abundance of wrinkles to form on his alabaster forehead.

Klarke meets her wide eyes and clears his throat purposefully. "Tyler is her health partner and they have the powerpoint presentation in a week, right Dasom?"

"Yeah, Tyler's been really helpful and understanding with the translations," Dasom lies, wanting to please her guardian's suspicions without too much of a confrontation.

As Steven turns to kiss his wife's cheek in greeting, satisfied with her answer, Dasom mouths a thank you to the foster child she actually tolerated. Klarke nods, smiling at her from the corner of his eye before folding the napkin to form the frog's mouth.

"Will you be joining us for dinner, dear? We're having meatloaf and french fries," Mary's nasally voice questions, sniffling afterwards.

"I'm not really hungry at the moment. I think I'll turn in early. I don't want to be tired before the first day back at school," Dasom rejects her offer and tilts her chin up as the blonde turns around to glance over her expression with calculating green irises.

The middle-aged woman recognises the stubborn face of the brunette and nods softly, complying with the teenager's unspoken request. "I'll leave a plate in the fridge in case you change your mind later."

A strained silence fills the room as Mary looks at Dasom expectantly and Steven avoids the teenager's gaze as he frowns down at the meatloaf.

"Thanks, good night."

Dasom power walks back to her and Miranda's room, wanting to see if Tyler had responded yet. Shutting the door behind her, Dasom dives onto the desk chair, switching her phone on hastily.

Hazel eyes skim over the message seeing that she had received from Tyler four minutes prior and that he had saved her previous photo.

Message from Tyler Crowley:

Send nudes for me baby?

Confusion is shown in Dasom's reflection on her phone screen as she rereads the word "nudes". Standing up from the desk, she crosses the room to her side and digs through her faded pink backpack. Her hands grasp the hard plastic of her translator and she pulls it out in triumph and makes her way back to the chair.

Using the interactive pen that's stored on the side of the device, she writes the word "nudes" into the english box and clicks the translate button. She waits impatiently as the loading sign spins in six circles before the Korean word "nachesang" appears on the screen. (Nude.)

Dasom smacks her palm to her forehead in embarrassment as she understands his request immediately before freezing in place. She had never taken or sent a nude to anyone before.

She had received them from her best friend Arleen to approve before Arleen sent them to the guys she was sexting, however, it was always one sided. Dasom had never sent her one in respond for critique but why not start now?

Dasom couldn't think of anything else she could do to make their friendship two sided. After all, she always let Arleen reach out first and it was time she started contributing to the friendship.

Dasom sends a winky face to Tyler to appease him for the time being and stands up as the typing bubbles appear. With her phone in hand, she tugs the blinds closed to avoid being seen by a passing jogger or neighbour. She slips her nighty off and lays down on her bed, opening the camera once more.

She smiles into the camera before catching sight of her breasts. They weren't the biggest, Miranda had a bigger cup size than her but they looked cute with the piercings she got with Arleen over the summer.

However, in this position, they looked flat and unattractive. Sitting up against the bed frame proved affective as they hung off her chest. Putting her phone down to rest on her lap, she fixes her hair using the mirror that was placed conveniently on the opposing wall.

She runs her fingers through the strands, creating a messy look and runs her tongue over her lips to moisten them. Lifting the camera up once more, Dasom uses her index finger and thumb to straighten out her nipple piercings and hovers her thumb over the button.

She smiles, glancing off to the side with a vacant look as she had seen Arleen do so many times in hers and decided to test out the angle. It showed more of the slope of her neck but also cause her hair to cover her nipples which she assumed Tyler wouldn't want.

She looks directly above the lens and straightens out her hair, arching her chest up off the mattress slightly. Taking a few pictures, Dasom glances over them with an excited smile before sending them to Arleen with a request for her opinion.

Dasom stands up from the bed and slips her nighty on over her cold skin and slips under the covers. Her pointer fingers tap against the back of her phone case in anticipation until she sees the typing bubbles from Arleen.

Ding.

Message from Arleen:

Woah, Dasom. You're better at this than me. I'd go with the second one. Tyler will beg for more.

Dasom giggles to herself and thanks her friend before double checking, hesitating on whether she should be sending it to Tyler in the first place.

Message from Arleen:

Of course you should. You've been talking for weeks, don't be such a prude.

With that response, Dasom opens her and Tyler's conversation and attaches the image to the message along side a simple good night with a smirking emoji.

That should be enough. Dasom thinks to herself, her thumb hesitating over the send button. Maybe I should crop my face out, just in case. It isn't really my best angle.

Message from Tyler Crowley:

Babe? Did you forget how to turn the camera on again?

With lightening speed she opens the edit button and crops her head out of the way, leaving her parted lips and lean neck in the photo. She felt weird just sending him a picture of her boobs but she couldn't be bothered to take more photos and get them approved by Arleen again.

Attaching the new image, she presses send on both the message and image. She watches the screen with beady eyes, eager for his response.

Arleen said he would like it, so why isn't he responding? Dasom thought to herself a few minutes later as one word stared back at her. Why would he leave me on read? Isn't there some sort of rule that you should respond when sexting?

The sound of multiple footsteps thudding against the carpet knocks Dasom from her spiralling thoughts. Before she could blink, the door is swung open and the twins are standing there with a frowning Miranda.

With wide eyes she switches the phone off as if to hide the evidence from them. "Yeah?"

"Kent and Klarke said people are going to throw water balloons at me filled with dye because I'm a freshman!" Miranda whines, her blue eyes wide with fear.

"Water balloons? Maybe. Dye, no," Dasom teases, plugging her phone into the adapter to charge before placing it on the window sill.

Miranda glares at Dasom, recognising the tone and huffs in anger before disappearing into the wardrobe without another word.

"What are you still doing up? Texting Tyler still?" Kent asked, mindlessly running his hand through his straightened, charcoal coloured hair.

"No, I just couldn't sleep yet," Dasom lies, hooking her arm under her pillow and shuffling under the sheet in a more comfortable position.

Klarke meets her eyes, his green eyes squinting at her with suspicion and she gulps. Whereas she tolerated all of the Hamilton's foster children, she tolerated Klarke more. She didn't trust him much like the others in the household, but they had an unspoken agreement to back each other up when they were in need.

Klarke hums, leaning against the doorframe in unison with Kent. Dasom gulps as they both stare at her with their piercing eyes and crossed arms. Despite her being a year older than them both, their height of 6'2 was intimidating to her 5'6.

"Leave her alone, you're not Steven," Miranda rolls her eyes, exiting the walk-in wardrobe in her pyjama pants and sweater.

"Fine, don't tell us the truth, sister. We'll find out eventually," Kent shrugs with a grin at Dasom's huff.

"Good night." Both girls mutter in unison to the twins and they both wave in unison.

Kent walks out of sight to the two girls whilst Klarke lingers, eyes glancing at both girls suspiciously. "Jal ja, girls." (Sleep well.)

Dasom smiles at him in response. While she wasn't close with any of the Hamilton's, they all tried hard to learn her native language. While the Hamilton couple hired Angela to help Dasom in school, they were also learning small phrases and greetings from Angela to say.

While they butchered it immensely, the small phrases and trying efforts were always appreciated.

"So, how are things going with Tyler? You two dating yet or what?" Miranda whispers, bending down to roll the fluffy bed socks onto her feet.

"No, not yet," Dasom responds, her hands busy taking off her socks.

Despite the freezing weather in Forks, Dasom couldn't fall asleep with her socks on, her feet would sweat and she hated having sweaty feet. It was just easier in the long run to sleep without them.

"You'll tell us when you do though, right Dasom? Or at least me?" Miranda questions softly, settling against her pillow on the single bed on the opposing side of the room to Dasom's.

Dasom glances over at the hopeful expression on the younger girl's face and feels a sharp pinch in her chest. "Go to sleep. We have school in the morning."

Miranda's face falls and Dasom turns her back to the red head, facing the wall. She hooks her leg over one pillow, hugging it to her chest and slips her left hand underneath the pillow beneath her head.

"Jal ja." Dasom yawns quietly hearing Miranda repeat after her in the quiet room. (Sleep well.)

Dasom shuts her eyes and soon finds her self drifting off, hopeful for a response from Tyler in the morning via text, or even in person. After all, it was the first day of junior year, anything could happen.

( N O T E )

Please let me know if you liked it or not. Feedback is appreciated.

Dasom is closed off girl, trying to find love that she wasn't given the chance to have until now. Her and the Hamilton's won't ever be a close knit family until Dasom finds it in herself to open up.

Love you.

(24/07/20)