Maine isn't exactly known for farming, and especially not for farming corn. However, on the outskirts of Storybrooke, a comparatively small farm stretched out over 147 acres and grew just that. Given that the bulk of corn comes from Iowa and Illinois, the farm in Maine was less than lucrative and simply served to support the town, some resident businesses, and a few nearby areas. It also served to help feed some of the pigs and dairy cows at other small local farms. Though far from profitable, since most food was imported from other more lucrative states, the farm's owners, Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, managed to cultivate the crops well enough to support their growing family.

Emma, at the age of seventeen, was their daughter, and as such, knew far more about farm life than any of her peers. In fact, just as it consumed her parents' life, it consumed hers as well. She was expected to help nurture and manage the crops, regardless of her schoolwork. Most of her free time was hardly free, as she spent it in the fields with her father, working until sweat poured from her brow and between her shoulder blades, soaking the tank tops she so frequently wore in the warm weather.

School was more of a burden than farming was, since she had a much easier time coping with physical labor than the stressful mental exercises of her homework. She stayed mostly out of trouble, keeping her head down and biding her time until she could hurry back home and bury herself in her family's work. She had very few friends, given that she was a bit rough around the edges, not to mention exceedingly poor. Of these 'friends,' none seemed to want to spend time at her home on the farm. Most were opposed to the outdoor lifestyle that she lived. Not only that, but Emma's penniless existence caused many to turn their heads when they saw her walking. Worse, many even jeered at her for her worn and ragged clothing.

One such person, however, though certainly not a friend, had taken a sudden interest in her life.

"So, what's it like?" the girl asked the younger student. "You know… living out there, like that. Getting your hands dirty."

Emma laughed at this, feeling like a freak in a traveling circus. The rest of the students in her school seemed to live lives of at least an upper-middle-class level and scoffed at her lack of finances and the socioeconomic status of her family. This girl, though, a gorgeous brunette by the name of Regina Mills, was by far the richest student that attended the school, and came from the wealthiest family in Storybrooke. Her family owned the mansion on Mifflin Street that so many talked about in hushed whispers behind the girl's back. Still, Regina, unlike Emma, usually had a gaggle of girls following her around, completely at her beck and call. Those girls, however, were far less refined and intelligent than the dark-haired beauty. None could touch the radiance that exuded from her.

The poor blonde girl, though, seemed to catch her attention, and she found herself in front of the more popular young woman in the hallway, asking openly what she desired to know.

"Well?" the brunette pressed, urging the younger girl to answer her.

Hearing the irritated tone in the girl's voice, Emma finally managed to reply, "Nothing special," with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.

Not being used to the attention, Emma wasn't sure how else to respond, other than to be dismissive and short. She was expecting some sort of ridicule to follow, but it didn't come.

"No, really. I want to know what it's like to get callouses on your hands. I've never had to lift a finger in my life, and I know it shows," Regina confessed. "You, though… I can tell you work hard, and that you hate it here, mingling with everyone else. You'd rather be alone, wouldn't you?"

"I'd rather be working," Emma answered shortly, turning back to her locker and removing the books she hadn't bothered to read for her next class.

"Oh… I see. Maybe what I said isn't true, then. Maybe you're just waiting for someone to be interested enough in you to step into your world and experience it like you do."

"Oh, come on," the blonde laughed, shaking her head. "What makes you think you know me so well?"

"I can read people, Emma, and I can read you."

With that, the brunette turned and swiftly walked away.

At the beginning of May, Emma's disregard for the academic curriculum reared its head and confronted her head on, in the form of a failing progress report given to her parents by her teachers. When they received the document in the mail and read its contents, their reaction was less than sympathetic.

"Emma!" her father shouted sternly, sweat forming on his brow. "This is absolutely unacceptable!"

"Dad, I-"

"I don't want to hear it, Emma!"

"Dad! It's just school. Why does it matter if I'm just going to keep the farm going? Why do I even have to go?"

"Stop whining right now, girl, or I'm going to-"

"I don't fucking care about school! I hate it there, and I-"

The sound of her words was cut off by the swift, stinging blow of the back of his right hand coming in contact with her right cheek. The force shoved her back, and as she lost her balance from the blow, she fell to the floor.

"David-" the girl's mother tried, but was quickly quieted by the stern, threatening look he gave her.

Both the girl and her mother noticed the silent threat, and they quickly took the hint that it was time to leave the room.

Emma, afraid of more punishment, mumbled, "Sorry," as she turned her back on her parents and made her way down the hallway and into her bedroom, where she shut the door tightly.

As she sat down on her bed and hugged her tattered pillow to her chest, tears began to pour from her eyes and drip down onto the rough, scratchy, cream-colored fabric. She knew she was far from in control, but what was worse was that she was alone. Completely alone.

"Find a tutor today," her father ordered the next morning over a small breakfast of toast without butter served with glasses of water. "And don't come home until you have one. I expect your grades to improve drastically over the next four weeks. Is that clear?"

"There's no way I can bring my grades up in four weeks! Dad, I-"

When he cocked his hand back in a threatening gesture, the girl winced and went quiet.

"You know that if you don't pass your classes, you won't pass your junior year of high school. And if you don't pass, you will be severely punished. Is that clear, Emma?"

"Y-Yes, sir," she stuttered, turning her watering green eyes away from his piercing blue ones.

"Good."

As soon as she walked through the front doors of the prison – her school – her palms and forehead began to sweat. Who the fuck would ever tutor me? she wanted to know. I'm literal trash. To her surprise, the first person to catch her eye in the hallway was none other than the beautiful, intelligent, talented, flawless Regina Mills. As much as she hated to be at the mercy of someone so gifted and… well endowed… she knew she had no choice.

"Hey, um… Regina…" the blonde started, her voice shaking with fear. "Hi."

"Well, aren't you articulate this morning," the older girl joked. "What can I do for you, Farmgirl?"

Emma started to scowl, but immediately regretted the reaction and tried to clear her face of the expression. She needed this girl to help her. Though that feeling was piercing and fierce, she shoved her reservations away and gave in to desperation.

"Listen… I need… I'm… I'm kind of… um…"

"What is it, meathead?"

Again, the girl's blood grew hot and furious at the casual insult, but she shoved the emotions down and managed to squeak out a nervous, "I'm failing my classes. I need a tutor, and I just thought… I mean… I know that you're the school's valedictorian and all… and…"

The brunette let out a loud, unreserved, cackling laugh and tilted her head back slightly, which served to amplify the sound. Half of the students in the hallway turned to look, and most of them started to laugh when they saw the richest girl in the school conversing with the poorest.

"You want me to tutor you?" Regina guffawed, her dark eyes scanning the girl as though she was see-through.

"I… um… I mean… I just… I thought I'd ask, you know? I just figured maybe…"

"You know what, Farmgirl?" the star student began, a smirk suddenly creeping confidently over her full, red lips. "I'll make you a deal. You let me work for your parents on your farm this summer, and I'll tutor you."

"W-What?!" Emma gasped, not believing what her brain was telling her she'd heard. "You want… You want to work on a farm?"

"Hey, keep your fucking voice down, would you?" the girl hissed, leaning in so that only the blonde could hear her.

"Alright… Okay. Fine. Look, I'm desperate, okay? I'll do whatever you want. But if this is some kind of a joke…"

"I assure you, Peasant. This is far from a joke."

"I… Alright, then."

"I'll see you after school."

"W-Where? Library?"

"No. Your place."

Emma spent the rest of the day continuing to sweat, thinking of the elegant Regina Mills at her old, broken down farm house at the edge of the town. When the time came for the school day to end and for them to take the bus together back to the farm, the blonde found herself anxiously ringing her hands on the sidewalk outside of the school as she waited for the bus. She jumped and let out a little cry of surprise as Regina appeared silently behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

"Jesus! You trying to give me a heart attack?!" she shouted, scowling in the older girl's direction.

"Calm down, and don't be so loud, okay? I don't need everyone noticing that I'm taking a frickin' bus, okay?"

Usually, of course, Regina's mother came to pick her up in her new Mercedes Benz, which put every other car in the parking lot to shame. Emma's parents hardly had time to bring her anywhere in their old, broken-down truck, let alone to school and back every day. The blonde blushed as they boarded the creaky yellow bus.

When Regina sat beside her, she was more than surprised. In fact, her eyes went wide in disbelief, and when Regina noticed, she quickly snapped, "What? Don't look at me like that. Where the hell else did you expect me to sit?"

"I… I don't know. I didn't… I didn't think you wanted to be… um… seen with me."

"You're right. I don't. So shut up and don't make a scene, yeah?"

Emma nodded enthusiastically, just grateful for the girl's compliance in her request. Still, the request the girl had made in return still seemed like a horrible, tasteless joke, but she had bigger things to worry about. Like Regina seeing her room, which was trashed like the alley of a ghetto.

"Hey, um… Regina…" the farm girl started shyly, finally daring to look over at the girl's gloriously radiant features. "I, um… My house isn't…"

"It's a mess, isn't it?"

"It's… um… yeah. Yeah, it is."

The dark-haired girl shrugged her shoulders and even managed a sly smile, which confused the hell out of Emma and made her wonder what the girl was actually thinking and not saying. But she stayed silent and stayed grateful, until they reached her stop. The dirt driveway to the farmhouse was long, rocky, and slightly uphill. It didn't take long for Regina to complain.

"Jesus Christ," she whined. "You walk this every day?"

"It's only half a mile," Emma said with a shrug. "You want me to carry you or something, Princess?"

"Hey! Watch your fucking mouth, would you? I expect respect out of you. I'll turn right the fuck around and walk home if you think you can manage to tutor yourself. By all means, give it a try."

Emma shook her head vigorously, then stopped in her tracks as Regina's movements ended and she turned to look around.

"Wow," the girl breathed. "It's kind of… kind of beautiful, really."

"147 acres," Emma announced proudly. "It's our pride and joy."

"I'm sure it is."

The sincerity dripping from the girl's voice caught Emma off guard, but again, she said nothing, instead walking the rest of the way in silence. When they reached the house, she immediately wished she'd simply come home alone and refused to bring Regina there.

"Listen… Regina…"

"It's fine, Emma," the brunette assured her, a small smile curling the perfect shape of her lips. "Let's just go inside and get started, okay?"

Emma was more than surprised by the sudden softness of Regina's words. Swallowing hard, though, she reached out and opened the lock-less door, then stepped inside.

"Where are your parents?" Regina blurted out, looking around the small, empty kitchen as Emma set her backpack on the table.

The blonde shrugged and answered, "Probably out in the field, trying to think of reasons not to kill me for failing my classes."

"Hey," the dark-eyed girl said, putting her hand on Emma's shoulder. "You're not going to fail."

Emma's eyes went wide at this gesture. It had been too long ago for her to remember being touched by a gentle hand. It was startling and refreshing, and it took her attention away from the task at hand.

"I… What?" she asked dumbly, nearly staring at the beautiful girl who was looking directly back at her.

"I said, 'You're not going to fail.'"

"I… I think I definitely might."

"I won't let you. As long as you follow through on your part of the deal."

"I… If you're really serious about it, I will. But it's not a joke, okay? My parents will kill me if you-"

"I'm not joking. I want to know what it feels like, Emma. To work. To be…"

"To be what?" Emma asked, her tone suddenly defensive.

The older girl recovered with, "To live like you do."

"Trust me," the blonde warned. "You don't want to live like I do. Anyone would much rather be put up in some mansion with-"

"You know nothing about my life," Regina snapped. "So don't fucking pretend like you do."

"I… I'm sorry…"

"It's fine. Look, let's just do this, okay?"

"Hey, um… Do you want some water? I'm wicked thirsty."

"No, I'm okay. Thank you. That was very polite."

"What, you expect me to have no manners, because I live on a farm?"

"No! No, I didn't mean that… I just… Thank you. That's all. You're sweet to ask."

"I'm not sweet. I'm-"

"Hey… Emma… Do you think we could maybe go outside for a while? You know… before the sun sets?"

"You mean, you want to do homework outside?"

"No, I… I was hoping you'd… show me the fields and stuff?"

"Oh! Oh, okay. Yeah, sure. You should probably wear boots, though. It's pretty dirty out there. I doubt you want to ruin your shoes. I've got a pair you can borrow, and I can just wear my old ones, but they're really, um…"

"That'll be fine, Emma. Thank you."

"Do you, uh… Do you want a T-shirt and some shorts? I don't… I'm sure you don't want to get your blouse dirty."

Regina looked at her like she was thinking while trying to decide, and it took her a while to speak.

"No," she finally answered, her voice slow and calm. "I'll be fine. Clothes can be washed."

"Do your parents know about this?"

"What? Well, no, but-"

"Then what exactly do they think you're doing hanging out with a farm kid? 'Cause what other reason could you possibly have to-"

"They think I'm downtown with Belle and Ruby. I told them I'd be back around 9, just like we talked about, and that's all they care about. Don't worry about it, okay?"

"I… Alright. Sorry. Anyway, let me go grab those boots and I'll be right back."

"Hey, wait," Regina said, catching the girl's arm in her grip. "Show me your room."

"Whoa, dude," Emma answered, both shocked and horrified at the prospect of introducing her acquaintance to her shipwrecked abode. "That's… That's not gonna happen."

"Oh, come on," the brunette laughed brightly, the infectious sound ringing in Emma's ears. "How bad could it be?"

"It's bad."

Emma hung her head in shame, her face growing as red as a blood moon, but Regina stood up and pressed, "Show me."

And what choice did she have, really? This girl was willing to tutor her, and she needed that more than anything. To risk that alliance would likely have been detrimental to her mission to pass her classes and appease her father, and that she wasn't willing to do. That being the case, Emma moved unhurriedly down the hall, like a dead man walking, and slowly pushed the door to her bedroom open. Inside was exactly what she'd been expecting (though she'd been hoping that the room had magically cleaned itself after she'd left for school). It wasn't really dirty clothes that covered the floor, since she didn't own many of those to begin with. Mostly, it was books. They were on the windowsill, on the nightstand, and all around the perimeter of the room. They weren't new by any means, though. They were old, all of them second-hand, but nonetheless well loved by Emma.

"Wow," Regina breathed. "Who knew you were a bookworm? I don't think I've ever seen you open a book in my life."

"Well, first of all, you're not in any of my classes," the blonde grumbled. "Second of all, I only like to read my books."

"Well, well, well," the other girl laughed. "Hoity-toity then, are we?"

"I'm not 'hoity-toity!'" Emma cried. "I just like my books! They're all I have, okay?"

This caught the brunette greatly off guard, and she stared at Emma for a long while before she spoke again, taking in the gravity of what the girl had just inadvertently told her.

"I'm sorry," was all she managed to get out.

But this was the last thing Emma wanted to hear, so she grabbed both pairs of boots, each sitting on top of a separate pile of books, and handed the newer pair to Regina, saying, "Come on. Let's go."

Nothing else needed to be said between them for Regina to understand exactly what Emma had meant. Those books were literally all the entertainment she had. The girl's few 'friends' had surely never been to her house, and even at school, they barely noticed her. They were much more like kind acquaintances than anything else. Emma understood this, though, and accepted it. Instead of fighting for the human contact she so desperately needed, she buried herself in the adventures of others and disappeared between the pages of her books in the late-night hours after working in the dirt.

Once they were outside, stepping onto the field of cultivated land, they both looked around at what was before them.

"So, when does stuff actually grow?" Regina wanted to know, as she looked eagerly over at the blonde, who seemed to be captivated by the display of what appeared to be nothing.

"It'll be a while. These rows are all ready for planting, which is what we're working on now."

"Will you… Will you show me?"

"Sure," Emma replied with a shrug, walking a few yards away to a small metal bucket, lifting it up, then reaching her inside to pull out a handful of seeds. "These," she said, "are corn seeds. They should be placed about two to four inches apart, in rows."

"But how long does it take it to grow? Like, when does it become… you know… corn?"

The blonde laughed at this, not answering, and knelt down in the dirt, the brown substance covering her bare knees, which were pale, despite the amount of sun she got from being outside during almost every moment of sunlight. The older, more elegant girl watched wide-eyed as Emma stuck her fingers deep into the earth, a few times over, planting three or four seeds before looking back up at her.

"Wanna try?"

Regina nodded shyly and knelt down beside Emma, allowing the dirt to rub the knees of her jeans until they were completely brown. When she held out her hand, Emma handed her a few seeds, her fingertips lingering on the softness of the girl's skin. Quietly, the brunette repeated her mentor's actions, burying the seeds as deep as her fingers would go.

"There. See? You've got this already."

"But Emma," Regina finally whined. "When does it become corn?"

"It takes anywhere from sixty to ninety days, depending on the weather. I guess we'll have to wait and see. Anyway, beginning or end of the summer."

"That's awesome!" Regina cried, withholding no enthusiasm. "I can't wait to see it. I've never been-"

"It's beautiful, really," Emma sighed, falling back and sitting in the dirt. "I love it."

This earned a smile from the beautiful girl beside her, who sat down and leaned back as well. However, when the tips of Regina's fingers bumped against Emma's, the blonde nearly jumped right out of her seat in the soil.

"Uh… Sorry," they both quickly mumbled, almost at the same time.

The rest of the afternoon, at least until it got dark, Emma walked the girl around the rows and rows of bare land, until Emma finally wiped her brow and said, "We should walk back. It's gonna be dark soon."

After a long trek back to the house, Emma got herself a glass of water, and one for her new tutor. They both drank them hurriedly, having exerted most of the effort on walking constantly during the past few hours.

"So, how about that homework?" Regina asked, earning a loud, exaggerated groan from the blonde who had just sat down across from her at the table.

With a weak, reluctant nod, Emma conceded, and the two began work on less interesting things… like algebra and chemistry.

This continued for quite some time. On the weekends, they spent more time outside in the fields than back in the house studying, but when it got dark, they would retire to the kitchen to work on Emma's homework. (Of course, Regina's homework for the entire week was done by Monday night, so she rarely had any to bring to the table.) One Sunday night, however, a particularly large homework load left them both buried in textbooks.

"Can we just go lay down on your bed?" Regina suggested. "I feel like I'm going to collapse under the weight of all this studying. I can't sit upright much longer."

"M-My… My bed?"

"Well, yeah…. I mean… It's horizontal and has room enough for both of us, unlike the loveseat in your living room. Makes sense, right? Don't tell me you're not ready to combust from over-thinking right now."

"No, I… I am. I just…"

"What? What's the matter?"

"N-Nothing. Let's go."

So Emma grabbed her pile of books, and Regina's, then hurried down the hallway before the older girl could protest the gesture. Once in her room, she kicked a few piles of novels out of the way to make a clearer path to her small twin-sized bed, then set the books down in the middle. After propping her only pillow up against the wall, then sitting on the opposite side of the bed, she finally gestured for her tutor to sit down.

"I was serious," Regina laughed, pushing the books to the wall and lying down with her legs out and her head resting on Emma's bare thigh. "You're soft," she added, absently stroking the girl's skin with her thumb.

Emma blushed and shook her head, reaching for the pile of books. Before she could grab one, though, Regina pushed her hand away.

When she tried once more, the brunette shook her head and said, "Let's just… Let's just relax for a minute."

"You know if we do that, we're gonna fall asleep. My parents are supposed to bring you home in a half hour. We need to get this stuff done, and-"

"Emma, please?" the older girl whined. "I can't think anymore. My brain is fried."

"Well, if your brain is fried, there's no hope for me. Might as well give up."

"You know…" Regina said slowly. "They could just bring me home in the morning."

"W-What? I… But…"

"It's not like I've never seen someone sleeping before. What's the big deal?"

"Well, I… We don't have a spare room, and I-"

"Emma… It's fine. If you don't want me to stay, just say so, but sleeping in the same bed with you doesn't bother me."

"Well, what about your parents? Wouldn't they-"

"I'll text them and tell them I'm studying late at Belle's."

Emma just laughed and answered, "Everyone knows Belle doesn't study."

"Well, they don't know that. And they don't have to. As long as they don't know I'm here, it's fine."

"Yeah, it'd be a real shame if they knew you were hanging out with such a low-life, huh?"

"Hey… Emma, come on…" Regina tried. When the girl looked away, the brunette said, "They just don't understand this life, Em. They don't get that some people actually have to work for a living, and that not everything is handed to everyone the way they hand shit to me." Seeing that the blonde looked somewhat subdued by this, Regina took the girl's hand and kissed the back of it, adding, "I wouldn't let them finding out stop me from this. We have a deal."

The younger girl nodded weakly, startled by the physical gesture of affection that had just been displayed, and leaned back against the wall.

"Hey, come here," the brunette beckoned her. "Share the pillow with me."

"Regina…"

"Come on. It's not fair that I get to hog all of it."

"We should study…"

"Just shut your eyes with me for five minutes. Five minutes, okay?"

With a sigh, Emma picked up the textbooks, set them down on top of an even taller stack of novels on her bedside table, and stretched out beside her companion on the bed, her cheek just barely resting on the pillow. Only when Regina closed her eyes did Emma do the same, but after only two short minutes, both girls were fast asleep.

Emma stayed frozen in that position, her back pressed against the wall, but in the middle of the night, Regina rolled forward from her side onto her stomach, and her arm swung out and flopped loosely over Emma's waist. After a few more subtle movements and shifts toward the warmer girl in the bed, the blonde woke very early the next morning – when it was still dark out – to find Regina's soft head of hair tickling her chin, and their arms wrapped around each other. Regina's knee was even resting on top of the blonde's thigh when Emma opened her eyes.

When she realized what had happened, Emma immediately tried to squirm away, embarrassed that she may have been the one to unintentionally initiate such intimate contact and horrified by the prospect of Regina waking to find them nearly wound up in each other's embraces. However, Regina woke as soon as the blonde started to move (which wasn't a successful mission anyway, since her back was still firmly pressed against the wall).

"Mmmm," Regina mumbled, surprising Emma by tightening her grip around her waist, as she left her eyes closed. "Don't move. You're warm."

Emma, beyond shocked, took little, cautioned breaths and tried to stay as silent as possible, until, despite her anxiety, she fell back to sleep. When the blonde woke as the sun rose, Regina was gone. Thankfully, though, Emma found her in the kitchen as she stumbled drunkenly out of her room to search for the girl.

"I, um…" the younger girl started, heart racing as she remembered the night before. "Hi."

"Hi!" Regina said cheerfully, turning around to reveal that she was, in fact, cooking eggs on the stove.

"W-What are you doing? What… What-"

"Your parents said I could use the stove, so I'm making you breakfast. You were wiped last night!"

"Me?!" Emma protested. "You were the one whining and saying we should shut our eyes for five minutes, and then-"

"Shh!" Regina hissed, pressing a finger to Emma's lips with a grin. "No talky before coffee."

Emma had to laugh at this, and, despite her reservations, sat down at the table and allowed herself to be served for the first time since she was a child.