Chapter Text
The leaves had started falling more aggressively now, all crisp and flame-orange, crunching under my boots like little reminders that time never really stops.
It’s weird, how fast the days passed after the… bush incident.
I mean, one moment I’m pulling thorns out of my hoodie, trying not to die of embarrassment, and the next—I’m seeing Haley everywhere. Not just in the "oh she's walking by with Alex again" way. More like:
Haley passing me a jar of honey with a quiet "This reminded me of you."
Haley showing up to the saloon without Alex, sitting near me, not quite next to me.
Haley lingering when she talks, like there’s something she’s afraid to say but might say anyway.
And okay, yes—my heart does a thing every time.
A skipping, jumping, shutting-down-my-entire-frontal-lobe kind of thing.
Which is confusing. Because Alex is still around. Always nearby. Her backup singer. Her safety net.
And I’m just… me. Star. Awkward, flustered, muddy-booted me.
So yeah. I’m spiraling. Thanks for asking.
The town square was lit with deep purple lanterns and warm orange string lights as I arrived. The stalls were decked in cobwebs and carved pumpkins, the air heavy with the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider. Spirits’ Eve had officially begun.
Kids were running around in little bat wings and skeleton onesies. Adults leaned into the aesthetic with witch hats and fake fangs. I wore my usual dark hoodie, mostly because I forgot to buy a costume. Again.
“Hey, Farmer Star!” Vincent ran past me in a dragon cape, flapping wildly. “Don’t get eaten in the maze!”
I gave him a thumbs-up, heart barely in it. My eyes had already wandered toward the far corner of the square.
Haley.
She stood near the maze entrance, arms crossed, blonde hair glowing under the lantern light. She wasn’t wearing a costume either. Just a cozy cream sweater, jeans, and that look she sometimes gets when she’s trying not to look around for someone.
When her gaze met mine, her expression flickered. Softened.
Alex said something to her—I couldn’t hear what—but she gave a tight smile and nodded, then started walking… toward the maze.
Then, without looking back, she waved at me. Just once.
I blinked. Then realized I was waving back like a dork with no control over my limbs.
“Might as well go die in a hedge,” I muttered, and followed her in.
I don’t know who designed this year’s maze, but they clearly had a personal vendetta against joy and navigation. The hedges were taller than usual, twistier too. Every turn felt the same—lamps flickering, scarecrows in creepy poses, fog machines hissing like haunted kettles.
I wasn’t even sure how I found her. One minute I was talking to a plastic skeleton, and the next—
“Lost already?”
Haley stepped out from a side path, a little breathless.
“I’m not lost,” I said defensively. “I’m... adventuring with intent.”
She smiled. And Yoba help me, my knees forgot how to function.
We walked together in silence for a bit, our footsteps muffled by soft dirt.
Then she asked, “Why do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Talk like a dork when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.”
She just arched an eyebrow at me.
“…Okay. A little nervous.”
She laughed. “You’re weird.”
“You followed me into a bush last month.”
“And I’m still finding leaves in my laundry.”
Another pause. The silence between us wasn’t awkward—it was charged, humming under the surface. Like we were both on the edge of saying something but afraid to tip the balance.
Then, softly, she said:
“You make things feel... safe.”
I froze. “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat it.” Her voice was suddenly shy. “I just—when I’m around you, it’s like I don’t have to pretend I’m something else. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You’re just... you.”
My mouth went dry. My heart took off at a sprint. “Haley, I—”
“Wait,” she said suddenly, looking around. “Did we turn at the scarecrow with the pumpkin head or the one with the bird on it?”
“…there were two scarecrows?”
We were so lost.
She groaned and leaned against the hedge, laughing despite herself.
I leaned beside her, heart still going crazy. “So this is how we die. Death by corn maze.”
She looked at me. I looked at her.
It was close.
That kind of close.
The kind that makes your thoughts blur and your breath shallow.
“Star…” she murmured.
“Yes?” I barely got the word out.
“I think I—”
Sniffle.
We both jerked back.
Sniffle. Sniff.
A tiny sob echoed from just ahead, and we both turned toward it.
“Wait… is that…?” I blinked. “Jas?”
We found her curled up by a hedge wall, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
“Marnie said I couldn’t come,” she wailed, “but I wanted to see the maze!”
Haley dropped to her knees beside her. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now. We’re gonna get you out.”
I knelt too. “Come here, little shadow.” I offered my hand, and Jas launched into my arms like a tiny heat-seeking missile. “You’re freezing.”
We started walking, holding her between us, when Haley suddenly gasped. “Wait… is that the prize?”
We all turned to see a glowing golden pumpkin behind a hedge arch. Somehow, by sheer disaster-fueled chaos, we had accidentally won the maze.
Jas was still crying. Haley was laughing. I was trying to remember how to breathe.
We exited the maze triumphantly with Jas between us, a golden pumpkin under one arm and a chaperone-worthy reputation now permanently lost.
I walked her home. Quiet, again, but not heavy.
She stopped at her porch steps, rocking on her heels. “Thanks for walking with me.”
“Anytime,” I said, meaning it way too hard.
She looked like she wanted to say something else.
So I filled the silence like an idiot. “Glad we survived the maze. And the bush. And the emotional minefield that is blackberry season.”
She giggled. “You’re seriously the weirdest person I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Then—without warning—she leaned in and kissed me.
On the cheek.
Warm. Firm. Deliberate.
I blinked.
She blinked.
Then her face exploded into red as she turned away, muttered, “Goodnight!” and slammed the door in my face.
I stood there for three full minutes.
Boo would never believe me.
I touched my cheek. It was still warm.
What. Just. Happened.
Journal Entry Fall 27
Title: I Was Kissed. On. The. Cheek. (Send Help.)
Okay.
Okay.
Okay.
WHAT.
THE.
ACTUAL.
Yoba-forsaken HECK just happened???
I’m sitting here in my PJs, hair still full of hay and static, staring at my cheek in the mirror like it’s been cursed/blessed/enchanted by the god of emotional confusion and extremely attractive blonde girls who slam doors after kissing people.
Let me try to write this out without combusting:
So. Spirits’ Eve. Town square lit like a postcard. I walk in, trying to play it cool, brain already short-circuiting because Haley is glowing under the lanterns like a walking autumn spell. We end up in the maze together—somehow. And instead of being cold or distant, she’s… warm. Open. Like she wants to say something she’s not used to saying.
We talk. We walk. We get lost. (Of course.)
And then she says things like you make me feel safe and you’re just you and you’re weird but in a way I like. (Okay, maybe I hallucinated the last part but SHE BLUSHED, so don’t @ me.)
We almost—
Look.
There was a moment.
I felt it.
I was leaning in. She was leaning in. Then BOOM: tiny crying human appears like a haunted ghost child.
Jas. It was Jas.
I love that kid, but wow, her timing could win Olympic gold.
Anyway, we found the prize. We returned the child. We did not perish in the hedge. Hooray, heroes. Applause.
But then…
Haley. Porch. Silence.
She looked at me with these eyes that said more. Not just “thanks for tonight” but something else. Something deeper. My heart was hammering so loud I thought she could hear it.
Then, boom again—but this time in the form of a CHEEK. KISS.
She kissed me.
Like—full stop. No mistaking it.
Warm. Real. Intentional.
Then she slammed the door.
Slammed it.
No explanation. No follow-up. Just kiss → panic → door slam.
WHO DOES THAT.
And why is my face still warm like an hour later?
Do I text her? (Wait. No one has phones. This is Stardew. I can’t just text her. I have to… exist near her again like a normal human.)
And what does it mean? Is it a sign? Was it a thank-you? A mistake?? A joke??? I don’t know how to read this. I’m bad at this. She’s so far out of my league I need binoculars to see her emotional range.
BUT.
It happened.
She kissed me.
And no matter what comes next—even if tomorrow she acts like nothing happened, or says “Oops, I was high on seasonal cider,” or whatever—tonight, for just one second, it felt like maybe…
Maybe she likes me too?
...Yoba help me.
—Star (who is going to scream into a pillow now and possibly combust in the morning)
P.S. Boo saw everything. I swear I saw him raise one eyebrow when I got home. Cats shouldn’t be allowed to be smug.