By the time I reached my brother, Jett was on another round of yelling.

“You are an irresponsible, hyperactive child who needs to be watched at all times! Where is your mother?”

I reached Gunnar’s side and knelt down, looking him over. “Are you hurt?” I asked. “Did you get burned?”

He shook his head no, his eyes watering.

“Of course he didn’t get hurt,” Jett growled. “But he destroyed the entire booth!”

I looked around for Mr. Williams, but he was busy asking Lance to bring over a trash can.

I stood and faced Jett. “He’s just a child and it was an accident.”

“Ah. Your brother.” He raised one eyebrow. “How could I have forgotten? You will pay for this damage, Ms. Evans! It’s about time you had to face some consequences. People seem to handle you with kid gloves around here.”

“Dad.” Andrew’s voice cut in low but hard. I hadn’t even seen him come up beside me. “Stop.”

“Son, this is none of your business. Help Mr. Williams clean up and take that delinquent to his mother.”

I balled my hands into fists and was about to say something, but then Andrew spoke again.

“It is my business,” he said, “because these are my friends, and how you’re acting is not okay. You have a temper problem.”

Jett’s expression hardened. “Walk away, boy, before you say something you regret.”

“Pretty sure I’ve lived my whole life regretting the things I didn’t say.”

“Andrew,” I said. I didn’t want me or my brother to be the reason that he and his dad had a falling out.

Andrew held up his hand but continued to stare his dad in the eyes. “He’s just a kid. A young kid who has no way to defend himself against you. You can’t expect him to be a mini adult who has all the answers and does everything exactly the way you would do it.”

I was beginning to wonder if Andrew was still talking about Gunnar.

“I can certainly expect a kid not to run through a cooking site and trip over all the cords,” Jett snapped.

“If he tripped over the cords, that’s on you,” Andrew said.

His dad’s face was getting redder by the second. Was he going to blow a fuse?

“Andrew, you will shut your mouth right this instant,” he thundered.

I reached out for Gunnar’s hand but my hand only met air. I looked over to see that he was gone. “Where did Gunnar go?” I asked, looking all around.

“Actually, I won’t,” Andrew responded to his dad.

“My brother,” I said louder. “Did anyone see where he went?” A good crowd had formed around the spectacle, but everyone just shook their heads. My eyes met Micah’s. She was standing on the outskirts of the group, and she pointed to the maze.

“My brother went into the maze,” I said to Andrew.

“What?” His attention finally turned to me.

“My brother ran off to the maze. I need to go find him.”

“I’m coming with you,” Andrew said.

“You are doing nothing of the sort,” Jett said from behind us, but both of us were already running toward the maze entrance.

“You okay?” I asked Andrew as we ran.

“Not really,” Andrew responded, voice tight.

I heard footsteps behind us and turned to see Micah. “I’ll help,” she said.

I nodded at her. Neither of us mentioned the fight we’d had minutes before. It was obviously going to take more than a talk to fix the gulf that had opened up between us.

We reached the entrance to the maze and all barreled inside. We came to the end of the first stretch and the path split two ways.

“I’ll go right,” Micah said. “I’ll text you if I find him.”

Andrew and I turned left.

“Does this maze have any of those platform things that you can climb and try to orient yourself?” he asked, glancing around.

I pointed. In the middle of the maze, far from where we stood, was a wooden deck.

“Okay, we’ll try to make it there,” he said.

I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak.

“You know he’s going to be fine, right?” Andrew said. “He’s somewhere in here. And there are other people in here too. He’ll eventually find his way out.”

I nodded again, a million emotions swirling through me. We came to another split in the path.

“I’ll go left,” I said, and started to move.

Andrew grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said. “For how my dad treated you, and for what Micah said, and about what happened with your mom earlier. And that your little brother is probably really upset right now. I’m so sorry.”

It had been quite a night, I realized, when he spelled it all out like that. “It’s not your fault.” I felt suddenly numb. “I need to go find my brother.” I pushed him away. “I just need to go find my brother.” I stumbled away down the left path. Andrew didn’t follow, which I was happy about.

There was something about walking through a dark maze, surrounded by tall stalks of corn, all alone, that had my brain turning over everything I had ever said or done for the last … seventeen years. Was Micah right? Had I been prejudiced against everyone and everything in this town? Had it colored my relationship with my mother? Was wanting change, wanting a bigger life so wrong? My mom had applied for a scholarship for me and I’d gotten it. Would it be dumb not to at least consider it?

“It’s because she doesn’t believe you can succeed, Sophie,” I muttered to myself. I was sure I hadn’t colored that fact anything but the right shade.

I’d admit to one thing: I never really gave the guys around here a real chance. And Micah was right; it was because I knew I wanted to move on. As for the rest of the town, what little there was of it, I thought I always gave it a pretty fair shake. I’d been participating in every tradition and event for as long as I could remember. Sure, I was now being paid to do it, but that hadn’t always been the case.

I heard a noise around a corner up ahead.

“Gunnar?” I called out. The Carter boys rounded the bend and went running by me laughing. “Have y’all seen Gunnar?” I yelled after them. They didn’t answer.

I sighed and kept walking.

My brain wouldn’t shut off. Micah wasn’t perfect either. She’d obviously kept these feelings about me all bottled up for years without sharing them. She couldn’t hold my dad’s decisions against me. She couldn’t hold on to that so tight, as though it was hers to hold on to. She couldn’t feel worse about my dad than I did. I swiped at a tear that escaped from my eye. Micah and I were fighting. Fighting for real. And I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

I came to another fork and went left again. If I kept going left, would that take me in a big circle or just on a different path than Andrew?

“Gunnar!” I shouted again.

Silence.

My phone buzzed with a call and I picked it up without looking at the screen. “Did you find him?”

“What happened?” It was my mom.

“Gunnar ran into the maze alone because Jett yelled at him for knocking over the fryer.”

There was silence on the other end for so long that I pulled my phone away from my ear to check and see if we had been disconnected. She was still there.

“It was an accident, Mom. No need to get mad at him. I’ll find him and you can take him home.”

“Jett Hart yelled at Gunnar?” Her voice was ice.

“Yes,” I responded quietly.

“Oh, I’m gonna give him what for,” she said.

“You are?” She was going to yell at Jett Hart?

“Why wouldn’t I? Kind of like I defend you when people down at the market call you a weirdo.”

Wait, what? “What?” I asked.

“My point is, I stand up for my kids. And I’m going to give Jett Hart a piece of my mind.”

“Momma, no. It’s fine. Andrew talked to him and so did I and … Hello?” I looked at my phone again. She was gone. I bit my lip, staring at the black screen.

I stood on my tiptoes to try to locate the platform in the middle of the maze but couldn’t see anything but cornstalks.

Another group of laughing kids came from around a corner.

“Anyone seen Gunnar?” I asked them.

“No,” one of them replied, and kept walking. I continued on, weaving my way toward the middle of the maze, hoping to find the lookout point.

“Soph!” a voice called out.

I turned in a circle but nobody was around.

“Up here!”

I looked up. Andrew stood above the maze, obviously on the platform that I couldn’t see. The wooden structure was right below the tops of the stalks.

“Can you see Gunnar from up there?” I called back to Andrew.

He shook his head no. I wanted to get up and see for myself, but he was at least two rows over from me.

“How do I get over there?” I shouted.

He scanned the area around me. “Follow your path straight. About halfway down your row, turn to the right. Then stay right at the fork and it will lead you to the stairs. I’ll meet you halfway.”

“No, just stay there in case I get turned around,” I said, but it was too late; he’d already disappeared from above me.

I followed his directions. Or so I thought. But I couldn’t find the corridor on the right he’d been talking about. The path only led to one veering left. Maybe he hadn’t realized which row I was in. I kept going, then turned right as soon as I possibly could. But I knew after ten minutes of not discovering stairs that I’d taken the wrong path.

I texted him: Go back to the platform. I got turned around.

How could you possibly have gotten turned around? There were literally three steps.

Maybe you give bad directions.

I don’t.

You obviously do.

My phone buzzed with a call, making me jump. It was my mom again.

“Hello?”

“He made it out.”

“What?”

“Gunnar’s out.”

“Is he okay?” I asked, relief pouring through me.

She must’ve handed the phone to Gunnar because he got on and was talking a mile a minute. “I did the whole maze by myself. I was good at it too on account of I’m so fast. Momma was right, I am old enough to do it. I didn’t even have to use the lookout. I just remembered all the turns like a map in my head and it was so fun. I should race you next time. The Carter boys were racing and I think I could beat both of them—”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, cutting him off. “And good job on the maze.”

“Thanks. Here’s Mom.”

“Hey,” she said. “So we’re takin’ off then.”

“Okay … How’s Jett? Was he … mean to you?”

“That man is all hat, no cattle.”

So my mom could hold her own against Jett Hart. I was impressed. “Did you take it easy on him?” I asked.

“I said what needed to be said.”

“Thank you, Mom.”

“What? I actually get a thank-you? I bring you a letter that says you get free money, nothing. I yell at some grown man, and ‘thank you, Mom.’ ”

The angry feelings that I feared were never going to leave surged in my chest. “Mom …”

“What?”

“That scholarship. You know I didn’t want it. I’ve been perfectly clear on what I want to do with my life. To me it only represents the fact that you don’t believe in me.” There, I’d said it. Sure, I’d said it on the phone so I didn’t have to look her in the eye when I did, but still.

Mom didn’t respond right away. I held my breath. Apparently I was going to fight with everyone tonight.

“Sophie, I live in the real world,” Mom said at last. “And in the real world, this is the money you need to go to college.”

“I’ve been saving and Dad’s been saving.”

“Dad? You mean that man I loaned a hundred bucks to last week because he’s never been able to save a penny in his life? That Dad? Or did you adopt a different one who doesn’t have money issues?”

I blinked. “That’s not true. He’s been matching me.”

She just laughed.

My dad hadn’t been saving money for me? A pit formed in my stomach and seemed to want to swallow me whole.

“That’s not the point!” I protested, feeling desperate. “It doesn’t matter. I can apply for grants and aid and …”

“Scholarships?” she said.

I couldn’t respond. I could hardly breathe.

“I’ll see you at home, Sophie,” Mom said in a voice that was slightly more sympathetic. “And hey, bring me some of Miss Angel’s cookies on your way out. She said another batch was on its way.” The line went silent. She’d hung up.

I closed my eyes. Then, with that rage still burning inside me, I sent off a text to my dad.

Is it true? Have you not saved any money for me for college? I never asked you to so why did you need to lie about it?

I pushed Send.

Seconds later he responded back with only two words: I’m sorry.

And then my screen went black. I hadn’t noticed my battery running low, but that must’ve been the case because I couldn’t power it back on.

I stared at that black screen, a shadowy image of my angry eyes staring back at me. Great. Mom was right. My dad hadn’t saved a dime for me. I was screwed.

I tucked my phone in my back pocket. I needed to find a way out of here, even though I really just wished I could melt to the ground and become one with the corn. But I did know some wishes weren’t realistic. Maybe more than some.