I always loved the feeling of cruising down the hill and heading into town on my bicycle. I learned to ride somewhat late in life, spurred by my desire to fit in with my fellow middle schoolers. I was teased for not knowing how to ride so I begged my grandfather for the chance to learn. He agreed eventually, somewhat reluctantly buying me a bike for my birthday. I remember feeling excited as I sat on the seat of my new wheels. Grandpa confessed the reason why he was so afraid to let me learn was that I could possibly fall off and hurt myself. I was given the bicycle but only if I promised to wear a helmet, along with the proper protection gear, at least while I was learning. Nowadays I only rode my bike around town, much preferring gentle cruising to the more extreme mountain biking popular with the local kids.

As I rode towards the train station I waved to all the locals I knew, calling out a 'good morning' to anyone who was near. I quickened my pace as I passed the local grocer, worried I might not make it through the green light at our only major intersection.

"Hey Diana!" a voice called. "Got a minute?"

I almost slowed my bike until I realized it was Lenard, the local grocer's son. My pulse quickened and I knew my face had turned red as our eyes met. The curly-haired young man was smiling in my direction a box of oranges in his arms.

I nodded my head in his direction but kept pedaling as I apologized. "Sorry, running late!"

Lenard, more commonly known as Len, seemed slightly put out, as I rushed by. I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about so I was actively avoiding him. Not too long ago I had gone on a date with Lenard. He was a few years older than me and since my grandfather sold fruit to all the local markets we had known each other for years. He pretty much ignored me until I hit puberty and then was suddenly very interested in talking to me whenever he could. Len seemed like a nice boy on the surface with his easy smile, cute freckles, and curly hair, so out of boredom, I agreed to a single date and I have sincerely regretted it ever since. We made out for a hot minute before I decided I was not the casual hook-up kind of person and put on the brakes. Lenard agreed to stop at that moment but I could tell he was upset that we hadn't gone farther. After we parted ways he began asking me to hang out whenever we saw each other. I quickly ran out of ways to say no both politely and not-so-politely, so I had been avoiding him ever since. I even went so far as to learn his work schedule to make sure we never saw each other when I went shopping.

I pushed the memories of our disastrous date deep into the corners of my mind, focusing on what was ahead of me instead. I missed the light but I didn't dare look back in case Len was still watching me. I perked up when I noticed another familiar face crossing the street on the other side of the intersection. Judy noticed me as well, her grin widening her rosy cheeks. She looked flustered as usual, as she guided the small group of tourists who were with her through the crosswalk. They were heading up the hill to the more historic part of town on one of our famous walking tours of downtown Mandeville. She only allowed ten people on her tour at a time, yet you'd think it was a hundred with the way Judy always complained. She often compared her job to that of a preschool teacher, only she thought toddlers paid better attention at times. As much as she complained Judy was amazing at her job. She was the only person at the local visitor's center who knew the history of the town backward and forwards, and she spoke five languages. She also happened to be an amazing chef and the person who made the apple butter for our farmers market booth during the Fall.

Judy and her group were now directly across the street from me, working their way up the hill slowly. I could hear her speech from here.

"As we move further into the town you'll begin to notice the architecture starting to change. Many of these buildings are from the late 1800's early 1900s. This area here is the main intersection of town and the road we're on now leads up to the old town hall and library."

The light changed and I slowly pedaled forward, taking care not to rush into the small crowd of tourists, keeping to the streets instead. The group was taking photos and I grimaced as I saw a few of the lenses pointed in my direction. I was never excited to end up in other people's family vacation photos.

"And this here is Diana, one of our local kids, on her way to school." Judy was gesturing to me as I slowed to a stop next to her. I had to work really hard not to glower at her since she knew I hated being a part of her tour. Judy was in full guide mode and I knew better than to interrupt. I waited because I had a little time before I had to catch my train and I hadn't talked to Judy in a while.

"Back in the early 1900's bicycles were the preferred method of travel around town. It was in the 1960s that Mandeville almost passed a law to ban automobiles all around town. This was all in an effort to preserve our historic buildings."

"Is this why the roads are blocked farther up the hill?" a voice called out.

"Yes!" Judy replied cheerfully. "Only local traffic is allowed and during our monthly farmers market we close off all the roads nearby and set up booths. There is music, food, and local craftspeople from all over the county."

There was some moderate murmuring from the tour group and then Judy repeated her small speech in German to more head nodding. The tourists began talking amongst themselves, gesturing as they discussed the market. Judy then turned to look sharply over at me, her short black and white peppered hair swinging around her chin.

"Hey Diana, you look good kid. Heading to school? Got your lunch and everything?"

"Hey Judy," I responded, "Yeah, I have everything, thanks." Judy was the type of person who wanted to make sure everyone was happy and well-fed. "Got all the apple butter finished for the next farmers market?"

"Almost, almost." Judy noticed the curious looks from her tour group so she pointed across the street to distract them with more town facts. "Back in early settler days, that building which houses the market was once a trading post. It burned down in 1949 during an earthquake." There was more 'oohing' and 'aahing' and a flurry of photos. "Your grandpa doing okay?"

"Oh, busy as usual. He's been bringing in the harvest all by himself this year," I admitted, making a sour face.

"George does too much! I thought you were going to hire someone?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Yes, come pick apples for meager wages in our tourist trap of a town. Hope you enjoy a nice two-hour commute from the city. P.S. no one can afford to live here if they work here anymore."

Judy let out a loud laugh, "I thought George was building an apartment for someone to live in."

"He couldn't get the permit approvals," I sighed.

"Want me to go yell at Dan over at coding? He's a power-hungry prick sometimes."

"Judy is there anyone in town you don't know?" I joked, avoiding her comment. Knowing Judy she probably would go down there and yell at someone. My phone trilled and I jumped. It was warning me of my train's imminent departure, I had to get moving. "Gotta run Judy! Don't yell at anyone please!"

"No promises!" she shouted as I pedaled away. I could hear her already hollering at her tourist group to get moving, despite her being the reason for the holdup. I couldn't help but smile.