Chapter 1: Farm Child 1

(Damn, I want to tell you guys the pairings but I think it'll kill it! D; So I think I won't tell you! So sorry~~ I do this all for you!)

Through out the world, in every country imaginable, society has had social classes. Socials classes to me aren't that big of a deal but I guess for the rest of the world, it is. As always, there are the higher classes; the rich, and beautiful CEO's of the world, the middles classes; people who are neither poor nor rich, live decent lives and such; and then there are the lower classes, probably factory workers and such who have a hard time getting by. I don't mind whether someone was a lower or higher classman, a person is a person. I, myself am a "middleclass-man", not so rich as to have any acknowledgement in the world and not so poor as to be working six jobs a day, being the "bread winner" and squished into a two bedroom apartment with five people. I know those are both the extremes on the opposites ends of the bar but you get what I'm saying. Anyways, I'm middleclass-man who goes to a regular public school on the South side of Germany in the small town of Einfachheit. It's the countryside made up of mostly farmers who grew vegetables and fruits. Our neighbor Mr. Arable grew the best vegetables in the countryside; or at least I always thought so. His vegetables would always grow huge, fresh, crisp and moist. He's a Japanese-American man who moved here about fifteen years ago with nothing but the clothes on his back, a few packets of vegetable seeds and a small sack of farming tools. Our other neighbor, Mr. and Mrs. Pummelo grow fruits, they have small patches of strawberry fields here and there with an acre and a half of cherry trees, orange and apple trees, and a few grape vines. Mr. and Mrs. Pummelo don't grow a lot of those daily fruits you would find at a grocery store. Their main specialty is fruit of course but not just any fruits. They tend to grow some of the weirdest fruits in the world. They would travel just to get even a few seeds from any fruit they had never seen before. They have Jabuticaba, Kiwano melons, Dragon fruits, Cherimoya and so many more! I haven't tried them all yet but I'm setting a goal to be able to try every single last one that they have! Mr. Pummelo once said ''There are to many people in the world fighting to grow some of the finest grocery fruits in the world. That'd be too much work for older folks like us; so, we stick to them rare fruits that we ship to other countries. Not only do we get a fine price for'm, we're often fought over because some of their local fruits can't be bought or grown regularly in other countries. A vast world there is and all of it is ours for the takin'!'" I agree with the man.

So we have, vegetable farmers and fruit farmers but there was one farmer and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Arnoldii who had moved in a bit further down from us a few years ago who grew sunflowers and white lilies. Neighbors say they don't grow food because there deceased son always wanted to grow flowers by the acre and would have a garden at the back of the couple's house when he was younger. Don't know how their son died but I think it'd be rude to ask. The couple has always been nice and very sweet to everyone around them, and when they harvest their flourishings in the spring and summer they always give me a bouquet for my mother when I passed by their house on my bike from school.

As for my family, we don't grow huge, fresh vegetables, or exotic fruits, we don't even grow flowers like Mr. and Mrs. Arnoldii either. My dad had decided to move to Germany on the spur of the moment to make beer.

Crazy?

I know.

Ridiculous and stupid?

I've heard it all before.

How did I survive?

Some how….

It was a warm Wednesday evening; he came home from work, looked at my mom who was making dinner and said, "Darling, I quit my job today." He didn't hesitate one bit and looked at her with one of his playful smiles but you could tell how serious by the sound of his voice.

My dad was this rather tall man with dark hair he usually pulled back for work. He was very playful and always smiled no matter what the situation was. He was more of a big kid rather then a man. It kind of ticked me off some times, especially when he tried to act cool and "gangsta" -like in front people around my age. My dad, I know a lot of things about, yet not. If I was his son, I probably would know him better, but I'm his daughter so I guess I can't know TOO much about him.

She had turned white and nearly died on the kitchen floor, "Why in the world would you do that?" She was petrified.

My mother is, slender but very short, she isn't very athletic or anything and since she works so much she hardly ever eats even if she wanted to. I feel bad sometimes when I look down at my lunch that she packed me for school. I don't know, maybe it's just because she's my mom and I get a little paranoid when I don't see her eating enough or when she's stressed out to much. Although she's quiet around my dad, she's really loud and likes to play around a lot with her co-workers and friends. Just around my dad though, she's quiet and very lady like. I always thought it was a culture thing but then again, it could be something else.

My father had simply laughed, "Because I won't be able to go to work if we're living in Germany making only the best beer those Europeans have ever tasted."

My mom fainted. She had no say in this life changing matter, but like my dad she really liked getting up and going places on a simple whim. So after twenty minutes of fanning her and giving her a few glasses of water she had come to her senses and was jumping with joy (on the inside mostly). Wait… did I say, 'come to her senses'? I'm sorry, I meant, she went into such a state of shock she wasn't herself anymore and became this fifteen year old girl again who wanted to run away with the boyfriend her parents could never let her have. As for me, I shat my pants that evening. I was only about, ten so of course I shat my pants, but I was also very excited. I had never been to Germany before. There are some negatives though, moving to Germany meant I had to learn to speak, read and write in German for school. It was hard enough to learn English. A positive though was that I would now know three languages instead of two!

I was shitting in my pants before, on and after the plane ride. When we had gotten to Germany it was the middle of winter. Which meant, COLD. As I had looked out the wide window panels of the airport that morning, the sky was very cloudy and greyish; snowflakes trickling down in the wind slowly had made me feel like this place, Germany, was in for some big changes ahead of it.

That was how my entire life changed but that's only the beginning of my story of course. The main point is; I probably made the stupidest/greatest decision of my life at the age of fifteen in the town of Einfachheit, Germany.

Friday morning, the air was fresh, the sky was clear and the sun was out. It seemed like it was going to be a good day. I had studied a lot the night before to punch the crap out of my math and science tests. I was ready! My school had uniforms and such so I wore a uniform. I refused to wear skirts and things like that though so I asked for a boy's uniform because it was actually really nice and it contained a pair of pants in the equation. The school made my parents payments for uniforms more because it was for a separate gender then intended. I felt bad but my parents constantly told me not to worry about it. "'Comfort-ability over prices'" they would always say. Anyways, I put on my uniform that morning and walked down stairs following the delicious sent of 'mamaliga'. I found the porridge of my home country very delicious, especially served with cold milk, omelets and fresh tomatoes! Sitting at the table still drowsy but very excited for porridge I sat patiently waiting. Across the table was an empty seat where a newspaper rested folded neatly, almost into a flat roll. On the table was a fresh cup of coffee with three Tvorog stacked slightly on top of each other filled to the brim of their soft little pancake wrappings with jam. My dad likes cottage cheese for some reason so my mom puts it in there for him as well. It's not a home country food but since Russians had owned some of the land back in the day, many Russian favorites like this one stuck. Speaking of dad…. He wasn't around. I looked around and couldn't find him anywhere. I looked at my mom through the open kitchen door; she was wearing a lemon yellow apron with cute, small grapefruit slices printed on them.

"Mama, wheres pa~?" I questioned.

"He's still upstairs sleeping. He stayed up late yesterday playing chess with himself." My mom shook her head while saying this.

I shook my head to and just sat there for moments, staring at the pile of Tvorog. Hatching a plan, I grabbed the plate and set it in front of me. The pancake wrapping was steaming as I tried to roll them off one another. Out of nowhere, my mother had come from the silence and wacked my hand away from the tastiness with her spatula. I yelped as she snatched the plate away cursing mumbles of Romanian as she did so then replaced the goody plate with my porridge. I made a face of an exaggerated cry. She simply rolled her eyes and set the plate near the stove on the counter guarding it from me.

"Eat your mamaliga before it goes cold." She said.

I nodded and began to eat then rolled my eyes in the silence realizing that if someone doesn't wake up dad or eat those Tvorog they're going to go to waste.

"OOO! MAMA! ARE THOSE….TVOROGO? THEY LOOK DELICIOUS~!" I yelled as loud as I could, teasingly. "MAY I HAVE ONE MAMA? …..WHAT? THEY'RE FOR PAPA? BUT HE'S NOT AWAKE YET! THEY'LL GO TO WASTE!"

My mom hissed me to be quiet, "Don't be such a tease! Let your father sleep!"

I ignored her hissing. I wasn't about to let those goodies go to waste; reheating Tvorog after they get cold is a definite NO-NO. "OH! MAMA! YOU'RE SO KIND! I GET TO HAVE ONE SINCE HE'S NOT UP? YUMMY! I'LL TAKE THE BIGGEST ONE, FILLED WITH THE MOST COTTAGE CHEESE AND JAM THEN! I'M SURE PAPA WON'T MIND~!" I smiled and waited patiently after that for some form of noise that dad was rushing to come save his poor breakfast. After a minute or two, mama and I could hear a thumping of sorts as if panicking but tired feet were running from the master bedroom, down the hall and suddenly we saw him. He was crazy-haired, his blank shirt and blue and white pinstriped pajama pants pulled in a few directions from him thrashing in his sleep after mama had left to make breakfast. He ran over yelling in Romanian, he grabbed me and searched all over for that big Tvorogo I kept yammering about. My mother laughed and grabbed his attention by hitting her spatula on the edge of the stove.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Darling, she doesn't have any! Your Tvorogo's are over here!" My mom said smiling looking at him.

This is one of the few times my mom will ever play around with my dad. She tried her best to be jolly and fun loving when I was around (I had noticed after awhile). Dad looked up suddenly. He eyed her and trudged over. He wrapped his arms round her waist and kissed her ear lovingly mumbling things in an older form of Romanian that I didn't know (cheats). My mother had grown really red but leaned into him liking it. Dad closed the kitchen door.

I looked away stomping, "UGH~! NASTY~! Not this early in the morning, please!" I yelled. I shoved the last of the porridge into my mouth looking at the antique clock near the glass cabinet filled with china sets of blue and red. I was going to be late if I didn't leave now. I stood up and put on my shoes at the front door.

"I'm leaving now! Bye~!" I yelled so that my parents could hear me. Two hands stuck out from the kitchen door, one big and strong looking, then one slender and fragile looking. I smiled and ran out with my bag to my bike. The bike was a classic looking thing. A rusty red and white with a basket in the back and a bell in the front. It was no car or anything but it did the job and that's all I asked of it. Nodding, I got onto my bike and began to ride away. It was chilly but that good kind of chilly. When you breathed in, it was like cleansing your soul, flushing out all of those sleepy, crappy feelings. It was really nice and it was Friday, which made life quite beautiful at the moment. A few minutes had past of riding, watching nothing but fields of vegetation. Taking a left on the main cross-road suddenly had me riding on asphalt mid road. This meant I was nearing the rim of the city where my school was. I rode faster thinking I was going to be late. I really didn't want to be late for class, or at least not first period. Turning fast into the bike rack, I locked it and ran in with my bag huffing and panting. I had to go up a flight of stairs, which was a pain that had me dying.

I dove in the door into my English class right as the bell rang. My teacher looked up from a book she was reviewing for today's lesson.

"It's amazing how you can just dive into my class like that every Friday." She spoke out.

I was huffing and held up a hand to wait so I can acknowledge her properly. I just needed a few more seconds to catch my breath.

Finally filled with oxygen, I looked up at my teacher, "I'm sorry….I-I-I didn't want to be late…." I spoke apologetically.

She nodded, "Who does?"

I shook my head, "N…no one…"

She agreed and pointed to my seat, "Take a seat please."

I nodded and rushed to my seat, sitting down. Some kids were giggling and poking fun for looking like a fool. I sighed out and just ignored. I took my books out and neatly placed all my pencils and things on the table. I was a bit OCD for that kind of stuff, everything had to be vertical as far as pencils and erasers, and books had to be piled on each other, widest and thinnest to thickest and shortest. My partner tapped my shoulder gently ahem'ing as he did. I looked up from my organizing. He was this blonde teen, older then me by maybe two years but still in the same grade, blue eyes and was obsessed with exercise so he was pretty fit, he played on four different teams, one for each season and was pretty good at all of them. He seemed scary but he was actually rather nice and caring once you got to know him. He was one of my best pals ever.

"Hmm? Sorry, did you need something?" I asked quietly so the teacher didn't hear.

"You…. Didn't say hi…" He muttered straight-faced. I nearly laughed.

He was so weird sometimes about these things, "Hi, Ludwig. How are you today?"

He ahemed and nodded, "I'm doing fine. How are you? Did… Did you eat a good breakfast and get a good night's rest?"

I nodded to both and chuckled as I opened my book to the page our teacher specified when I suddenly felt another light tap but on my temple. Something had been thrown at me. I looked down at the crumply mass of paper and grew angry thinking. Whatever asshole threw that at me is going to pay. I looked around to see who was laughing or giggling at that but all I saw was Feliciano and Gilbert waving at me and smiling wide. I rolled my eyes smiling and waving. They laughed quietly and turned back to their books only to have Feli (Feliciano's own nickname) doze off and Gilbert texting underneath his desk, probably to his closest amigo, Antonio. I began to scribble in my notebook all the notes for today's class. English was a favorite subject of mine.

"Alright class, please get into your groups and start brainstorming! We need all the ideas for activities and festival themes we can get from you!" Our teacher spoke a bit excited for our festival and sat at her desk grading papers from last weeks in-class essay.

Everyone scooted their desks towards one another and began to socialize and talk about all their big plans for the festival.

"So, what were you guys thinking? I wanted to go with a Japanese watermelon festival! Those things look like so much fun!" A red haired girl with glasses and freckles spoke out as she scooted her desk towards, Ludwig's and mine. Her name was Daniela. She was very out going, funny and athletic. As she approached our tables with hers she kind of grew flustered. I looked around to see what may have been making her go just as red as her hair.

"Is there something wrong, Daniela?" Ludwig questioned flatly peering around him slightly. Daniela shook her head and covered her face slightly.

"It-It's nothing. Let's just brainstorm." She responded taking out a piece of notebook paper never looking at either of us again.

As we talked and talked, we had grown to like the idea of the watermelon festival and decided that that was the best choice for our small group. Then I had realized something and nearly gasped.

"Oh! Valentines Day is next Monday! I had forgotten! Shoot." I said bitterly.

Ludwig nodded, "I've been wondering about it for quite awhile. Thankfully, I don't have any games that day or a practice."

Daniela poked her fingers absent-mindedly then grew red once again, "W-What are you doing for Valentine's Day…Rowan?"

I blinked at her, "Huh? Me? Oh~ I don't really know~ Probably nothing." I thought more about it, "Maybe hang around the abandon gardens near my house. I don't really care for Valentine's Day."

I had forgot to mention how I didn't like Valentines Day. At my school, I always got chocolates, love letters, cards and things but, because… well… because girls could have sworn that I was a boy. It wasn't just on Valentine's Day; I would pass by with my friends on regular day, and maybe one or two groups of girls would kind of giggle and hide behind their books. I tend to ignore or try not to pay any mind to it because I know I know that if I looked like a girl they wouldn't have liked me and if I was assumingly an "ugly" boy I wouldn't get gifts and such.

"How about you, Daniela? What are you doing for Valentine's Day?" I questioned, my curiosity kind of sparking. She bit her lip and quivered.

"I-I-I was hoping we could…maybe…go out for ice cream…together…or hang out at those-those gardens you were talking about…." She spoke softly and a bit scared.

Disappointed, I shook my head and sat back in my seat. I looked at Ludwig who didn't speak but I knew he felt the same. It wasn't her fault; I mean; it was my choice to have such short hair and boy clothes. My body structure wasn't very feminine either. A bit big boned for a girl, tall, rough housed a lot, had smaller breasts. Not so small, but you know, a size you could easily miss in a loose shirt or a jacket.

I looked at her, I didn't want to tell her I was a girl otherwise it would have been embarrassing for her and I didn't want to make her feel bad so I just played along. Well, sort of.

"I'm sorry, Daniela. You're cute and very nice, but you see, I...don't like you that way." I tried to be gentle.

She was half way in tears, "S-S-So…you-you don't lik-like me?"

We watched as Daniela's eyes got watery. It kind of hurt to see her start to cry, and then I felt bad after she had to leave the classroom to take a breather. One or two close friends followed her making disgusted faces in my direction. I sighed out and leaned against Ludwig. He was like leaning against a warm rock.

"I feel bad now."

"Don't worry about it. It happens to everyone. Besides, you weren't rude or mean. She'll be fine."

I merely nodded and doodled absent-mindedly on our brainstorming paper waiting for the class to end already. Once the bell rang, I quickly gathered all my stuff and hustled Feliciano, Gilbert and Ludwig out the door and into the emptier side of the hall were the empty, unused classrooms were. I sighed out thanking the gods that I wasn't bombarded with any angry mobs of friends of the heart broken victim. It happened to Feliciano once; he almost was beaten to death until Ludwig stepped in.

"That was such a riot! Did you see the slam down Rowan did on that girl?" Gilbert cackled.

Ludwig sighed out and crossed his arms, "There's no room to make fun of Rowan. She did what she had to, and besides, at least she was liked by another human being, unlike someone I know."

Feliciano laughed, "Forever alone, Gilbert~."

"Shut up, Ludwig! When have you ever had a girlfriend anyways?" Gilbert raised his voice a bit offended.

Feliciano frowned and his eyes began to water, "No! Ludwig can't get a girlfriend! That would be bad! Very bad! Very bad!" He cried out sad.

"Relax, Feliciano. I'm not getting a girlfriend any time soon. Female gentiles and breasts haven't come to appeal me just yet." Ludwig said impatiently.

I laughed out shaking my head. Ludwig, please don't be so blunt! That makes everyone awkward! Girlfriends got me thinking about what Ludwig's girlfriend would have been like anyways; if he ever had one, but I would constantly keep running my thoughts back to Feli. I only laughed out thinking about it. Feli wouldn't ever let Ludwig get close to a woman.

I looked at my watch and patted Gilbert's and Ludwig's shoulders, "Feliciano and I will get going, our class is down stairs and it'll suck if we were late."

There was a staircase at the end of the abandoned hall that leads downstairs. Feli and I usually took it so other class men wouldn't trample over us. Feli didn't do well against rough crowds who needed to get places and would kill people just to get there.

"Ah, whatever. I'm leaving anyways. I hate math class." Gilbert said throwing his hands slightly as us trying to push away the idea of math class.

Ludwig rolled his eyes not bothering to stop him in his attempt to ditch knowing that his efforts would have been futile, "Whatever, bruder. While I have a beautiful family and a wonderful job you can work at minimum wage in a factory that I will own one day."

Gilbert hissed at him and was going to tackle him before Feli interrupted and hugged Ludwig, then Gilbert.

"Ve~ Bye guys! We'll see you later! Don't kill eachother~!" Feliciano said joyfully before jogging to the staircase with me following behind waving to the guys as well.

As we walked down the staircase it was silent before Feli finally said something.

"I hope that girl is okay. She was so cute before she began to cry." He said thinking while looking at the cover to one of the books he was holding.

I looked at him, "I hope so to. I probably sounded really mean, huh?" I chuckled sadly.

"No. From what I happened to catch in that small conversation seemed honest, I guess. Don't worry about it! I know a lot more guys who've been meaner about it. It's so sad; most of the girls were really cute, to!" He tried to be cheerful in his words.

I smiled, "Thanks, Feli. I'm pretty sure she'll be okay, now." I began to laugh slightly and continue on our way to our next class. The hall was warm and sunny from the big windowpanes everywhere. The hall was almost empty now because it was close to the next class starting and then I realized, "Dang. I might be late again."