The rest of the school week was miserable. At the beginning of the year I had thought that having an empty seat next to me in every class was a good thing, but now I hated myself for it. Peter Fryer was next to me in almost every single class. We hardly spoke to each other, and every day was a struggle not to strangle him... or stroke his curly golden locks.
That weekend, I couldn't wait to do my chores. I know, that sounds weird, but living on a dairy farm could be a little fun. We had a ton of cats who had a ton of kittens. The best part was the cows. I had named every one, and they were all dairy cows so none of them went to the slaughterhouse!
Milking the cows was a very relaxing way to spend an hour or two. A couple years ago we almost got those automatic milkers, but I told my dad that I would milk all the cows if we didn't have to get one. At that young age of 13 I had thought it would hurt the cows. Once I started it, I realized milking was kinda fun.
So as I was milking Brownie, our only completely brown cow, I heard someone enter the milking barn. I turned around and felt my heart drop when I saw who it was. Fry Cook.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, turning back to Brownie.
"My aunt told me you might need some help. You've got a lot of cows to milk."
"Ya, that's who I'm staying with."
"Well, I don't need any help, thanks. I'd rather milk them by myself than with a Fry Cook."
"Don't call me that," he pleaded.
"Why shouldn't I?" I asked, swinging back around to look at him. "You always call me Nosy."
"That 'cus I don't know your name," he informed me.
"Oh, well I'm Lilly."
"And I'm Peter."
"I know," I giggled. We sat in awkward silence for a couple minutes.
" I guess I'd better get going now," he said, turning around.
"Wait!" I called. "On second thought... maybe I could use some help with the cows."