City Life for Country Girls

Step One: Burn the House Down

        A breeze floated in from the crack in my window. Crisp, fresh air mixed with the smell of pine from my desk. Crickets were chirping, and a few dogs howled at passing tractors, rumbling along the road. In the distance, I could see a few lights go out as people gathered for the evening meal. Trees stretched beyond the field, and tall cornstalks waved in the wind.

        Suddenly, as if it were my duty, I headed out of my room. The wooden stairs creaked in their familiar way as I stumbled down for dinner. The smell of buttered corn and fresh dinner rolls was calling me. I followed my nose, teased as it was by these delicious aromas...

        “Oof!” I collided with something kind of soft and kind of solid at the same time.

        “Watch it, little squirt!” The thing shoved me, and instinctively I pounded right back. Pain on my shoulder--right back at you! Thump! into my stomach--rebound!

        “Stop fighting, morons,” a hand pushed me onto the ground. Stupid Wyatt, ruining all the fun. “Weston, Mom’s calling.” My attacker sighed and stood up, giving me a fist bump. I followed my brother, who I was proudly not-too-much-shorter-than, into the kitchen, where I was loaded with plates to set. Weston stole a piece of stew beef, and Wyatt slapped his hand away.

        “Go set the table,” Wyatt hissed, retying his apron. Apron?

        “Y-you. Haha! You’re wearing an apron! Why are you wearing an apron?” Weston burst. “This is golden! It’s got moo-moo the cow on it too. Aww, aren’t you cute, little Wy-Wy--” He stopped upon the collision of a fist into his stomach. “Ow.” Boys.

        Mom quickly pulled the two apart, chastising them for being so unruly even as college students. Well, at least she’d be leaving me alone about it for another two years. A spilled coffee, a shattered plate, and a few burnt pots later, we were all sitting peacefully at the dining table, sneaking broccoli into the compost bin as we stood up to replace dropped utensils.

        “Uh, what’s college like?” I asked as I slipped back into my seat after disposing of several unwanted vegetables.

        “Aren’t enough meals,” Weston replied, stuffing a dinner roll into his mouth.

        “Not even the problem--it’s that the meals aren’t big enough. You only eat three meals here, too,”  Wyatt countered. Of course they’d be complaining about the food.

        “I mean the city,” I rolled my eyes. “What’s the city like? How is it?” I stabbed a piece of meat and munched on it slowly, enjoying the saltiness.

        “City?”

        “Moron.”

        “We’re in college, not the city.”

        “We live in these things called dorms.” I kicked both of them from under the table, satisfied when they simultaneously choked on their food.

        “Children,” my father warned. The three of us just shrugged and continued our bickering.

        “Why do you even care?” Weston brushed me off as I stopped him from getting up.

        “Yeah, not like you’re in college yet,” Wyatt snorted.

        “Because I want to go to the city!” I burst, a surge of annoyance passing through me. “I want to go on buses and subways and ride escalators and elevators!”