Page 43

I do not remember that. Have we been in the same maze this whole time?

“No,” Lawson snaps. “That was on the left. The right was where you tripped on the root coming out of the ground.”

“Because you pushed me.”

“I don’t put my hands on a woman unless asked. Some of us grew up with manners.”

“Oh yeah, what great manners you have. Stealing treasures from old people just to resell them at five times the price.”

“Grow up, will you? It was one time.”

“One time?” Ada shrieks. A married couple with twin boys slips past us, staring and covering their sons’ ears, but these two don’t seem to notice. “One times a hundred, maybe.”

“Are you jealous, princess? Because the thing I get out of those estate sales are actually valuable and not junk like—”

“Hey, guys.” Walker clears his throat and points to the road straight ahead. “We could just go—”

“In three separate ways!” Lottie claps. “Great idea, darling. Knox and Flick can go to the right, we will go left, and these two broken records can go straight. Whoever gets out first wins.”

“Sounds good to me,” Knox immediately agrees, and who am I to argue? I think I’m starting to get a headache from all the yelling.

We split up in three ways, and it’s not until we’re at least a handful of turns away that Ada and Lawson’s arguing is drowned out by the walls of hay around us and the tension behind my temples evens out.

“It’s a good thing we’re not claustrophobic.” Knox sticks his hands in his pockets as we walk side by side. “I feel like we’re going to be in here all day.”

I nod. “I don’t know why Lottie paired us off in twos; it’ll take even longer now.”

“I mean, this is considered a date, isn’t it?”

My head snaps his way, and the blush on his cheeks is so cute that I want to hold it in the palms of my hands. “I just mean splitting into twos, or the practice stuff, it’s a good opportunity and whatnot.”

A good opportunity for what, exactly? A chill runs across my arms and I don’t know if it’s from the fall winds or if it’s from thinking about what other real couples would be doing right now.

We reach another fork leading left or right with no helpful signs or clues, nothing but corn walls and my pulse suddenly beating way too loud in my ears.

“Uh, left?” Knox suggests and I nod.

“Left sounds good to me.”

So we take that route, and another turn, and another. We make a full loop around, more lost than found, and listen to the distant laughter of kids. Knox smiles when a little girl and her brother walk past, each holding an orange cotton candy the size of their heads. I smile when a little groundhog peeps around the corner before hiding back in the corn; Knox mutters something about a stalker but doesn’t elaborate when I ask.

The smell of cinnamon kettle corn drifts from the different booths and tables from beyond the corn walls and over toward the pumpkin patch area. I tug my cardigan down my wrists, and Knox, hands in his pockets, kicks a spare gravel rock down the dirt. “I don’t mind this too much.”

“Oh yeah?” I try to sound casual, but it comes out soft and the air thins between us. He feels closer than he did before, but maybe I moved closer too.

“Yeah.” He looks at me for a beat too long. “Could be worse.”

We curve another corner together, and when a frazzled mom looking for her child pushes Knox out of the way, our arms brush against each other. A racing heat pulses through the right side of my body as he makes little attempt to pull away, the fabric of our jackets staying side by side.

Knox and I have had plenty of physical contact before. Holding hands in the haunted house aside, there’s been years of brushed arms and our legs tangled up on the couch while we fought over who got the good end of his mom’s sectional. We’ve had sleepovers in the same sleeping bag at least a dozen times. I mean, we have shared suckers without any second thought, so it’s really nothing new at this point.

And yet…this feels different. Tiny zings of incandescent sparks across every inch of my arm. My stomach settles low, this tight ball forming deep in there that I can’t quite put my finger on, but I don’t mind it.

I really don’t mind it when we keep stretching throughout the maze, left and right, and Knox’s arm stays close to mine. A jolt shoots up the whole right side of my body when he intentionally doesn’t move away.

He doesn’t say much as we pass different walkways and paths, and I don’t either. Which is funny because I can’t remember a time, beyond that one week this summer, where we’ve ever not talked each other’s ears off. But right now, silence feels right; listening to the distant laughter of others in the maze and the wind rustling through the corn, leaves crunching under our boots with each step, all feels like it’s enough for this moment. Whatever this moment may be.

That is until I hear Lawson’s voice just a few feet away shouting, “Left! No, right! YOU SAID YOU KNEW WHERE WE WERE GOING!”