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Authors

Brandi Homan

Abstract

When we arrived at Tawny's farm around three in the afternoon, I was already praying to sweet baby Jesus that my tampon wouldn't leak. I didn't have another one and couldn't ask Tawny without her making a big deal about it in front of the rest of the crew. No other girls had detassled that day, either, which secretly made me proud. Not everyone's cut out for walking fields plucking corn tassels in the July heat. Not that I was particularly suited, either, 13 and a girl at that -- I just didn't like being left out, plus the prospect of my own money was promising.

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