“Ugh, I told you that the pumpkin station was a bad idea.”

Montana brushed her hands down the front of her dress making sure the damp spots had dried before she planted her hands on her hips. She rolled her head on her neck to face her friend Lucille as they stepped through the uneven grounds of the festival. She shoved her hands into her jeans pockets, making a face as she touched something crumbly and dry. Removing her hand, she found the crumbled bits of dry pumpkin pulp.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Montana protested, brushing the crumbs off her hands. “The kids were cute. If I just have to make sure they don’t stab themselves, then so be it.”

“We’re not going to have to live through another lecture on why you hate pumpkins, are we?” Dante asked, skirting around a group of kids running with bags of candy.

“They’re just…yuck! I hate them,” Lucile said with a shudder. “The smell, the taste, the feel.” She shuddered again. “It’s everywhere and they’re not that great.”

“You’ve never had my aunt’s pumpkin pie,” Dante protested, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets.

“Yes, she did,” Montana laughed, poking him in the side. “She thought it was sweet potato, remember?” Dante groaned, rolling his eyes.

“See!” Lucille nearly shouted. The more excited or passionate she became on a topic, the louder she usually got. It was no wonder she was not only a great public speaker, but on the debate team in high school. “Why have pumpkin pie just because it’s trying to masquerade around as potato goodness?”

“Shoot, anyone can see the difference between them,” Montana replied, pulling the strap to her purse up her arm. “Pumpkin is orange and sweet potato…well, it looks like..orange-ish…mud.”

“What a selling point,” Dante sarcastically replied. Montana shoved his shoulder. “So these guys just started throwing pumpkin everywhere?”

“No, it was an accident,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “You remember Lance went off to Florida and joined *NSYNC? They stopped by on a break from touring and he wanted to show them the festival.”

“Ooh, and I know how much you just love musicians,” Lucille said, looping an arm around her friend.

“They’re nice,” Montana protested.

“And so was Trevor, and Nick, and Zane,” Dante reminded her, counting off on her fingers. “But you remember how all those turned out.” He waved a hand in the air. “I mean, you stopped talking to Meredith once she started her singing career.”

Montana made a humming noise. Trevor was her first high school boyfriend, their short, senior year romance was something she was sure would last forever . Everyone knew he’d be the next Nashville star. He had her under his spell. He’d write songs just for her and she was the adoring fan. She’d be at every rehearsal and front row at every performance as he worked harder and harder to come closer to his goal. Which goal that was, she wasn’t sure but it was a toss-up between being the next big country star or having the most girls flocking after him.

He was well on his way to both. He already had a song used in a movie coming out next summer and was photographed with a new girl on his arm every few months. She could say that she was there first, but she wasn’t too entirely sure. Rumors had gone around in high school about his “rock star life.” Gossip did tend to make it’s rounds pretty quickly but she wasn’t going to stick around to figure out what was true and what was made up.

Nick was her first real boyfriend. They were great together and he really supported her through volunteering at schools and student teaching. He played guitar as a hobby more than a career, but soon that hobby became the only thing he really wanted to do. He practiced all the time, constantly wanting opinions. She didn’t know much about music, just what she did or didn’t like. She couldn’t get specific and he was always asking about different chords, or drop tuning, or stuff about amps. And when she couldn’t give him the answer he wanted, he would pout. Worse than some of her kids, even.

He would ask her to stop making lesson plans and listen to what he had just come up with. He would arrive to class unannounced to try and be part of music time insisting that there was someone out there that wanted to listen to him. She got tired of listening, and tired of him wanting to spend all his money on his hobby and then turn around to start asking her for some, and gave him the boot.

But Zane was the worst. Their relationship was a whirlwind. He knew how to break her out of her school routine and bring some fun back into her life. Too much fun she later found out. She wasn’t into the party scene, but that was what he as focused on at the time. He claimed it was part of his world; it was things he had to do to get ahead in his line of work if he even wanted a shot at playing some festivals or bars. She believed hard work was the only thing needed. She had had enough after another late night on her own with a broken promise and texted him they were done.

He took their break up hard, even going out of his way to make a spectacle when she showed up at one of the local shows with Lucille, loudly, and drunkenly exclaiming into the microphone that she wasn’t welcome. She was done with musicians after that instance. She, realistically, knew how hard it was to live that lifestyle and get to the level of success that many looked for, and didn’t have the patience to be with anyone who was going to spend the rest of their life constantly chasing it.

“She just got busy, I still talk to her from time to time,” Montana protested. “And thank you for the unwanted trip down memory lane.”

“Speaking of which,” Dante said with a smile as he came to a stop. He angled his head to the side and Montana followed his direction, letting out a laugh as she took in the sight of the corn maze. “Want to race?”

“Last one out treats the winners to whatever they want?” Lucille asked, a challenging sparkle in her eyes. She lifted her leg, starting to stretching her calves. “Just like old times.”

“Come on you guys, don’t you think we’re a little too old for this?” Montana protested. Ok, she was only 24 years young, but she was mature for her age. She was in graduate school and well on her way to

“No,” Dante and Lucille replied in unison.

“Readysetgo,” Montana said before she took off running, taking the first left into the corn maze. Her purse slapped against her side with each step. She heard Dante and Lucille’s shouts of protest before they followed her into the maze, taking different routes. Montana laughed to herself, hurrying left, right, and left again, rounding corners so fast she nearly collided with the bushes lining the pathway. But she was successful in colliding with the tall figure she didn’t have enough time to avoid. “Oof!”

She felt herself fall back onto her bottom, pain shooting up her spine. Great. First pumpkin and now this, she thought to herself. And here I thought my clumsy teen years were over. She brushed her hair from her face and looked up at the person she ran into. Of course.

“What?” J.C. asked, a confused look crossing his face as he towered over her, holding a hand out towards her.

“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” she asked before taking his hand, allowing him to help her up. J.C. opened and closed his mouth before nodding his head. She used her hand to brush the seat of her dress. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied. “I was looking for you.”

Montan blinked. “I—what?”

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” J.C. asked. He tilted his head to the side, his short, curly-ish hair hanging off the side of his head. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “We decided to go through the maze and I saw you….fly by and came looking for you. I just wanted to apologize again for Chris.”

“Like I said, it’s not the first time something like that has happened,” Montana replied, waving her hand in the air. “Working with kids, you’re bound to have something end up on you; food, beverages, snot, vomit. You get used to it.”

“I’ll bet,” J.C. said with a small laugh. “You’re good with them. The kids.”

“You said that already,” Montana replied.

“Did I…do something?” J.C. asked, his eyebrows sliding upwards.

Montana briefly closed her eyes, putting her hands up in the air. “Thank you for your apology, hon” she said as she gazed at him. “I accept.” She stepped past him and started walking backwards. “I have to find my way out of the maze. If I don’t beat my friends, I have to pay for whatever they want to eat.”

“Sounds like something Joey or Chris would say,” J.C. mused aloud.

“Right.” Montana gave a nod of her head. A small chuckle slipped past her lips. It actually was. She knew Chris and Joey were pretty big eaters. “Well, there’s plenty of good eatin’ here for ‘em, that’s for sure.” Turning on her heels, she started making her way through the maze again, moving at a slower pace. Her shoes crunched over the dirt and small rocks on the path. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Sorry?” Montana turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. She expected J.C. to come around the corner, but after a few moments of silence, and his repeated “Sorry?” she realized he wasn’t near her.

“Hey—where are you?” Montana asked, spinning in a circle.

“I’m over here.”

“That’s helpful,” Montana muttered. She spun in a circle again, and again. She stood on her tip toes, but the corn was too tall for her to see. “Where?”

“Over here!” The voice came to her right and she started to follow it.

“Ok, if you’re, waving your hand or something, darlin’, I can’t see it,” she said.

“Yeah, I figured that out.”

Now the voice was coming to her left. What? Montana took her immediate left and started making her way back towards the direction of J.C.’s voice. She rounded another corner and came upon a dead-end. “I can’t find you!” she called.

She heard J.C.’s deep chuckle from…somewhere in the corn field. “I was looking for you,” he called. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to stay in one spot when you’re lost?”

Montana kicked at the ground with her boot. “I was never a girl scout,” she replied. “And if you’re so smart, why didn’t you stay put?”

“Just keep talking, I’ll find you,” J.C. replied.

Montana laughed, shaking her head. See, not all musicians are bad, her inner voice said in a smug tone. She rolled her eyes. Looks could be deceiving after all. The nicest people could turn out to be sociopaths. Now you’re just being ridiculous. You even said it yourself, he’s a down to earth guy. What’s the problem? Give the guy a chance.

The problem was being burned too many times by guys. Besides, she needed to sort out her priorities and land down a job and have everything settled before letting a guy in. It’s only for an evening. Who knows what’ll happen. At least enjoy one night. She was at the festival for some fun and it gave her more hands on experience with kids. Excuses, excuses.

“I said you weren’t doing anything wrong,” Montana said with a heavy sigh, pulling her coat tight around her. “I was kind of…short with you. Now it’s my turn to ‘pologize.”

“Apology accepted,” J.C. replied. “How’s your eye by the way?”

“Apparently, not well enough to get me out of here,” Montana replied, earning another laugh from him. “It’s not anything you did, you know. It’s just been a long night.”

“Aw, but you looked like a champ, wrangling those kids,” J.C. replied.

“Compared to some of the adults, it’s not too hard,” Montana explained, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Adults are just big teenagers when you think about it. They can be just as immature.”

“So, we’re back to the pumpkin throwing again.”

“It’s going to take me a while to get the pumpkin smell out of my clothes and hair, that’s all I’m saying.” Montana put her hands in the air, holding them out in front of her defensively. Duh, Tana, it’s not like he can see you right now. “So, you wanted to spend your time off tour at a festival.”

“Lance spoke highly of it,” J.C. explained, “and we thought it’d be fun. Plus, we heard there was a cake walk and we couldn’t really pass up cake.”

Montana laughed. “Leave it to a fella to think with their stomach,” she commented.

“Isn’t it the best way to a man’s heart?” J.C. asked. He rounded the corner and gave her a smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Montana replied, lifting her hand in a small wave. She twisted her fingers in front of her as she walked past him. “Lucky for you men, it’s easy. You just have to sweep us girls off our feet.”

“Easier said than done,” J.C. said, turning to fall into step beside her. She elbowed him in the side. “Just kidding. Kind of.”

“Well, it’s easy to do when you have musical abilities,” Montana replied. She got silence in reply and looked up to see a curious look on J.C.’s face. “Come on.” She let out a short laugh. “What girl doesn’t want a guy to serenade her?”

“I guess, but I don’t think that’s what you meant,” J.C. replied.

It’s not. He’s on to you. Montana made a face. Might as well let it all out, now. Of course her inner voice would panic and throw her under the bus so to speak. “I’ve just haven’t had the best run with musicians, that’s all,” she said, waving her hand in the air. She still got silence. “No offense.”

“Guess I’m not making things much easier then,” J.C. said with a small smile.

“Guess not,” Montana replied. “I mean, you did make me get lost.”

“Yeah, ok,” J.C. replied with a roll of his eyes. He looked at Montana out of the corner of his eye and she felt a smile form on her lips. The two laughed quietly. “I heard Lance say you love apple cider. Maybe I can make it up to you?”

“You have to cross the festival to the barn for some,” Montana replied. “And we need to get out of here first. And I don’t want to pull you away from your friends so….”

What are you doing? Oh now her inner voice wanted to come back. You just took a stroll down memory lane with the boyfriends of no return. Are you really going to let them stop you from moving forward? Montana, slid her hands into her jeans pockets, kicking at the ground. The best way to get over a man is to get under another. Or to go on a hayride with them. Whatever.

“Why don’t we go find our friends, together?” J.C. asked. “Knowing mine, they’re probably causing some trouble I don’t really want to be in.”

“You love it and you know it,” Montana said with a snort. “I’ve seen your interviews. You and Lance both love to have fun, but you’re seen as the more serious ones.”

“So you’re a fan,” J.C. pointed out.

“Hometown pride, hon,” Montana replied, placing a hand over her heart before shrugging her shoulders. “So, how’s the tour?”

“With all due respect, we came here to get away from our jobs for a while,” J.C. said to her, his upper lip curling just slightly.

“Sure,” Montana agreed with a nod of her head. They came to a fork in the path and J.C. moved to take the right path, but Montana reached out a hand, clasping his, pulling him to a stop. “It’s this way.” She pointed to the left.

“How do you know?” J.C. asked. “I mean, you did get lost.”

“I kind of…walked it this morning,” she replied with a shrug. “I took the kids in; the smaller ones are too scared to do it at night.”

“Whatever you say,” J.C. said, an amused smile on his face as he shifted his direction to head to the exit. Montana flushed, realizing she was still holding his hand. She went to pull her hand back, but he gave it a gentle squeeze, flashing her a sheepish grin. “If you don’t mind…”

“A big star like you, who performs in front of thousands of people, scared of a little corn maze,” she said to him. J.C. bobbed his head from side to side, a bright blush creeping up his face.

“When I was a kid, my parents took me in one,” he explained to her, talking slowly. “I told my family I could make it out by myself. So the let me go. I…got lost and cried because the scarecrows scared me.”

“Awwwhahahaha,” Montana tried to show sympathy and it quickly turned into a fit of giggles.

“Gee, thanks,” J.C. said sarcastically, an embarrassed smile on his face.