I laugh and pointlessly dust off a bale of hay for her to sit on. The hay crackles under my hand, faintly prickling my skin. It might get her clothes dirty, so I remove the light sweater I’m wearing over my undershirt and drape it over the hay for her to sit on.
“Bash, no. You’re going to get cold. I already took your jacket.”
“I’ll be fine. Sit.” The chill in the air doesn’t faze me; I’m burning up just being near her. “Sit.” I pull her down to sit beside me.
She takes out her phone, opening the camera and pointing it at our faces.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking a picture with you. That way if anything happens to us, there will be evidence.”
I bark out a laugh. “Evidence of what? The fact that you faced your fear of mazes?”
She rolls her eyes but beams. “Fine. I may or may not be having fun, and I’d like to remember this day. Now, smile.”
I offer the camera a close-mouthed grin, leaning my face close to hers. Even in photos, Romilly’s beauty is absolutely radiant. Her eyes glow against her dark skin, and her jet black hair looks thick and shiny as a satin curtain.
She tucks her phone away, and we stay seated for a while, just talking. To my surprise, not a single person comes through the maze.
As she speaks, I can’t help but notice Romilly has a way of making even the smallest details feel significant, like how she’s convinced that Jasper, her grumpy little cat, has a secret softspot for anyone who sneaks him people food, or how she used to want to be a foster parent.
“That was something I wanted when I didn’t have to work so much. But I’m way too busy now,” she says. “I wouldn’t even adopt a dog with my current schedule, but thankfully, Jasper doesn’t mind his solitude.”
Her eyes light up as she talks about her favorite things about autumn—carving pumpkins with her sister, the smell of cider with orange slices and cinnamon simmering on the stove, and the way Jasper attacks every stranger he meets, but lets her dress him up in any outfit she likes. She even admits her lavender smell comes from the essential oils she puts in her early-morning baths.
I can’t stop watching her.
She gestures as she speaks, and every now and then, she tilts her head in a curious way, as if she’s rediscovering the joy in her own memories while sharing them. Her laughter is soft and infectious, tugging a smile to my face.
It’s early evening by the time we finally get back up and wander through the maze again. The dimming sunlight filters through the corn stalks, painting them in shades of amber and honey, while their long shadows stretch across the ground. The cool breeze rustles the leaves, making them whisper secrets only the autumn air seems to know.
Romilly points at a shape in the clouds, visible through breaks in the corn. “That looks so much like a bear eating an ice cream cone.”
“I don’t see it,” I tease, squinting up. “It’s obviously a dragon holding a sword.”
“You and dragons. You just want everything to be cooler than it is.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles.
A message on my phone from Max comes through.
Max
Check out this post from Munera.
I click the link and see my face on a graphic next to Connor Stronghold’s. The text underneath says:The Prince VS. The Powerhouse. Who are you betting on?
With a sigh, I put my phone away. I don’t even want to read the comments on something like this. It will only get under my skin. And right now, I’d rather stay present with Romilly than discover whether or not my parents are the only ones who don’t believe I can win.
By the time we stumble out of the maze’s exit, it feels like we’ve emerged from a dream, but the sound of children laughing, mixed with the distant sound of a tractor, feels like a snap back to reality. The rest of the farm sprawls ahead of us, glowing against the orange and pink hues of the evening sky.
Sunset Ranch definitely lives up to its name.
“See? I told you we’d make it out.” I dust a bit of hay off my jeans.
“I’m still not convinced you didn’t get us lost on purpose.”
