Page 46 of Snowballed

We hear the crunch of my mom’s car pulling into the driveway.

“I’d better go inside. I need to pack,” he says. The men’s team has their first away games this weekend. I feel bereft that he’s leaving so soon after this. Whatever this is. Am I a romantic idiot who thinks a kiss means so much more?

“Yes. Go. And don’t look back.” I still have to clean up the chicken crime scene. “You’re okay, now, right?”

“Oh, more than okay.” Noah flashes me this boyish look which causes my panties to explode into particles. Good thing I’m still wearing a coverall.

16

Noah

I’ve been looking forward to our first road trip since I got to Moo U. Road trips are the best way to get to know the other guys. No distractions and a common foe to keep us focused. But I feel bad that I didn’t get a chance to talk to Zoe before we left. We haven’t had a moment alone to talk about what—if anything—is going on between us. Not that I’m ever one for relationship discussions. My ideal is letting things evolve naturally, but most women don’t appreciate that.

“Everything okay?” Wags asks me on the bus.

“Yeah.” I have the window seat, and I’ve been watching the scenery. It’s interesting and different here. The trees are turning brilliant shades of red and orange. According to Zoe, tourists drive to Vermont just to see leaves change, and I get that now. “Is it like this in Wisconsin?”

He chuckles. “To be honest, I’m not one for scenery. If I’m in a car, I’m either driving or sleeping.”

Wags’s farm is near Lake Michigan. It’s funny that I’ve never known a farmer before, and now I’m surrounded by them. “Why did you choose to come here? Instead of playing for the Badgers?”

“Same as you. I wanted to get away from home. But I don’t like big cities, so I wanted to go to a school where I’d feel comfortable.”

Do I like big cities? Zoe would say yes, but I wonder. I love Los Angeles, but it’s more about my friends and what’s familiar. And I’d rather spend a day at the beach than in a mall. “It’s the team that counts. And we’ve got a good one.”

Wags smiles. “You know, when I heard that Gary Goodwin’s son was joining our team, I had an idea of what you’d be like. And you’re pretty much the opposite.”

“Should I even ask?” Most people think I’ll be an entitled jerk. I have money and connections. Or at least I used to.

“It’s actually more about the way you play. Your old man was—” Wags pauses.

“A scary bastard?” I suggest.

He laughs. “Yeah. You haven’t driven anyone through the glass yet.”

“The season’s still early,” I joke. But he’s right. I can never bring that ferocity to my game because it’s not in my DNA. It’s a relief to be at Moo U, where nobody asks me to be something I’m not. My dad was always pushing me to maximize my performance for the scouts. He even tried to switch me to forward so my size would be less of a disadvantage. But I like defense; I like controlling the play and being the last man back.

At dinner, I’m beside Meysy. I’m wondering how to raise the topic of Zoe, when he does it himself.

“How’s it going on the farm?”

“Getting there. Not up to your standards yet though.”

He laughs. “I half-ass my way through everything on the farm. Zoe is always on my case.”

“She works pretty hard.”

Meysy shrugs. “It’s her own fault.”

“How so?” I ask.

“The farm is Zoe’s baby. I wanted to move to campus and enjoy my college years. My mom wants to move to a smaller place in Burlington. A farm ties you down.”

“Why is the farm so important to her?” It must be more than great food and cute goats.

For the first time, the easy-going Meysy turns serious. He frowns and puts down his fork. “I don’t fully get her. But it’s about my dad. You know about him, right?”

“I know he died recently. I’m sorry.” Meysy never seems like someone who is grieving.

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