Along the Florida farmlands, Lauren slammed her foot against the gas pedal of her truck, the engine revving like a dying beached whale stranded along the coast. The sun barely began its ascent towards the dimly lit dawn sky. Her truck made a loud, gurgling noise that ruined the serenity of her Monday morning drive. Lauren huffed and inched to a stop to the side of the road. Dust and gravel flew beneath her wheels. Lauren cut off the engine and hopped out of the cab.
Shielding her eyes from the sun that peeked between slivers of cloud, Lauren surveyed the map on the passenger's seat. She was a few miles away from Alejandro's farm. Alejandro-her new employer made sure she understood not to be late, since they were to start harvesting the corn. Rolling up her sleeves, Lauren scratched her tattoo of a star that was tucked on her inner bicep. She popped the hood and allowed the steam to billow out.
She frowned at conked out engine, then to the road ahead. A few miles were nothing, but still. "Ah, fuck it." Lauren grunted and hefted her duffel bag from the bed of her truck. She tightened its straps around her body, and retied the laces of her boots. It would take half an hour at the very least before she arrived at the farm. Might as well start running now.
Lauren stretched her legs and warmed up her body by jogging in place. She took off, leaving a trail of dust and gravel flying across the road behind her.
*
Camila Cabello is Alejandro's little girl-the kind of girl that gets the boys from the other ranches into trouble for peeping or stealing her dad's apples from the orchard. She sat on the porch swing her Pa built for her, the Miami Gazette in her hands. The seat swung to and fro, lulling her to a lazy doze. It was still early, and the sweltering heat had yet to begin. Still, dressed in her jean shorts and a light plaid shirt, her thighs were starting to feel warm. So she stretched them out and leaned back.
She chanced a look towards the empty road. Except this time, it wasn't so empty. Dust clouds and the sound of pounding feet interrupted the silence of the day. Something Camila welcomed. Everything had been dull lately, and the news of her dad hiring a new farmhand was certainly something for her to look forward to. Speaking of which, that should probably her.
The woman was wearing loose khakis and a tank top that clung to her body. It was moist with sweat, and as she slowed down to a stop, Camila got off the swing and approached her. "Are you my Pa's new farmhand?" She asked. The woman nodded, her brown tresses swinging in its ponytail. "You're late. He's already gone with the other guys to the field. He's going to be real furious with you, you know."
The farmhand wiped her brow with the towel wrapped around her neck and tightened her ponytail. Camila couldn't help but stare at the rippling muscles, the glistening tanned skin, and the tightness of her body, so unlike her dad's other farm help. "You don't look like much of a farmhand, lady."
Her brow raised, the russet-haired girl turned to Camila with her arms crossed, allowing her to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. Her eyebrow-raising techniques was definitely something, but not quite within the Cabello range just yet. "Are you calling me a wimp, little lady?" She demanded.
"I'm no 'little'," Camila retorted, scoffing. "If anything, I'm almost as tall as you."
She leaned over the porch railing as the wind blew past. Camila caught a whiff of the stranger's spicy, salty scent, enough to give her ideas. She cleared her throat and looked in the distance. "You should get going to the fields. They just started not too long ago, so I'm sure Pa will forgive you for being late."
"Right." The farmhand dumped her knapsack by the porch steps. She chugged down a canteen full of water, wiped the sweat off her arms and neck, and smiled at Camila. "I'll see you around, little lady."
