Brittany awoke to sunlight flooding in through her bedroom window. The smells of her mother's cooking drifted in from the kitchen. Brittany lept off of her comfy cotton-stuffed mattress and headed for the kitchen. Her mother, Beatrice, was cooking on the brand new electric stove that Brittany's father, Wilbur, had just bought. Beatrice had a tall, slim build, similar to her daughter's. Her dirty blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun on her head.

"Morning, Brittany," Beatrice said with a smile. She looked up from the stove at Brittany for barely a second, before returning to her eggs.

"Good morning, Mom," Brittany replied. "What are you cooking? It smells really good," she said, licking her lips.

"Eggs and sausage," Beatrice said. "I would've made biscuits, but I didn't have enough water for the batter." She handed Brittany a plate with two eggs and two sausage links. Brittany took the plate and sat down at the cherry wood dining table Wilbur brought from New York. Beatrice went over to the window and looked up at the sky, hoping to see at least a couple clouds. The skies were barren. "Brittany, when you're done with breakfast I need you to go feed the chickens. Your brother caught a cold, so he won't be able to do his duties for the next few days." she added.

"Okay, but how did he catch a cold here? It's always super hot outside," Brittany said in between bites of her sausage. Her mother shook her head.

"Brittany, people can get colds no matter the temperature. Germs don't care what the weather's like," Beatrice said with a small tinge of annoyance in her voice.

Brittany finished off her breakfast and handed the plate back to her mother. She quickly changed into floral-printed feedsack dress her mother made. Wilbur had bought Brittany many designer clothes from New York, but she often preferred the homemade clothes to the store bought ones. However, she did replace the plain white buttons with shiny silver-colored ones. Brittany didn't care for the most of the ritzy things her father often brought from the city.

Brittany walked out the door of her house and headed straight to the chicken coop. She grabbed the bucket of chicken feed from the barn and scattered the assorted grains across the ground. She made sure that the adult chickens didn't take food away from the baby chicks. Brittany had a mothering quality that made her want to care for anything smaller or weaker.

While spreading the feed across the ground, she noticed the hispanic girl who was hired as one of the farm hands, walking towards pen where the cows were kept. Brittany racked her brain for the name of the girl, but couldn't recall it. She put the bucket of chicken feed back in the barn, and went over to the ethnic girl. When Brittany reached her she was sitting on a short, wooden stool getting ready to milk the large brown cow in front of her. She was wearing a feedsack dress too, but hers looked old and worn. It didn't have a floral pattern on it like Brittany's, it was plain beige.

"Hi," Brittany said. Santana jumped and accidentally kicked over the bucket she was about to squirt milk into, the blonde had startled her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Brittany said with an apologetic smile on her face. "I'm Brittany," she said as she stuck out her hand. Santana looked up at her with a hint of confusion on her face. Brittany was surprised when she saw her face. She didn't think that a girl as pretty as her should be working on a dirty farm out in the middle of nowhere.

"Hi, I know who you are. And it's okay, at least I hadn't started milking yet," Santana said, rising from her sitting position. "My name is Santana, nice too meet you," she said, grasping Brittany's hand and giving it a firm shake. They both smiled at each other, an awkward silence quickly seeping between them. Brittany eyed the girl up and down. Santana couldn't be that much older than her, she thought. She seemed young to be hired as a farmhand and maid.

"How old are you?" Brittany said, breaking the silence.

"Just turned seventeen," Santana replied, putting on the best, friendly smile she could manage.

"Really? Me too," Brittany said enthusiastically, "Maybe we should get together sometime or something. Theres not any people at all out here, besides my family."

"I can't. I have a job to do on this farm," Santana said matter-of-factly. "Sorry."

"Well, then maybe I can help you," Brittany said. "I could help you with the stuff you do. I could help you milk the cows and clean the house and-"

"Thanks, Brittany, but you don't need to," Santana said cutting her off. "I'm sure you've got your own responsibilities to do around here."

"Actually, I don't have many. All I have to do is prepare lunch and help my mother wash the clothes then hang them to dry," Brittany said. "It doesn't take long now because my dad just bought us a really fancy washing machine. Really all I have to do make lunch and help hang the clothes. So, I'm basically free all afternoon." she added.

"Okay, well then you can just accompany me while I work," Santana said. "Letting you help me would mean that I would be slacking off and I don't allow laziness." Santana always felt conscious of the amount of effort she put into her work and the quality of her work, no matter what she was doing. It was one of the effects of never being good enough for her father.

"Sure," Brittany said. "I've got to go start preparing lunch now," Brittany turned and headed towards the pen's exit. "You're very pretty by the way," she added just as she was about to leave.

"Thanks. You're not too bad lookin' yourself. So long," Santana called out to Brittany. She tried to mask the wide grin spreading on her face, but failed to do so. Brittany returned the smile and left. Santana's eyes were locked on Brittany, before she turned a cornered and left Santana's line of sight.

Compliments didn't come Santana's way very often, so she couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the morning. Brittany's subtle compliment temporarily boosted Santana's self-esteem and made her farm work much more bearable. She surprised herself when she realized that she was really looking forward to her next meeting with the blonde. In fact, she missed her, even though they had just met. Little did she know that the blonde was missing her too.