Our goal had been to escape the that dusty old home. Reason one, to escape spring cleaning. Reason two, me and my friend had decided boiling was better than suffocating. My best friends' family had owned the everything for four miles, including the wild sunflower field that I was now tearing apart, for forty-seven years.
"My mother thinks those sunflowers beautiful, did ya know?" Melika muttered suggestively.
"And your father calls them a weed-spawn, hunting setback, and altogether over-rated flower." I shot back, with only the slightest hint of humor returning to my voice, it had been a very long winter.
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