Page 50 of Snowballed

“Which is whenever they don’t agree with you,” he replies.

“Same thing.” We’re talking again, and that makes me happy.

“I heard that you guys used to go out,” Noah says.

I wonder which blabbermouth in my life I have to thank for that. “That was a long time ago—almost two years.”

Noah lifts another hoof, and I trim it. Something twigs for me: is this why he’s been so distant this week?

“I don’t know what you heard, but Bobby Cooper is ancient history. I wouldn’t go out with him again if he was the last man on the planet.”

Noah looks over at me. “Why not?”

The truth is way too intimate for me to share.Well, Bobby never turned my crank, but I’m sure you could, Noah.“I think that there are people you’re just meant to be friends with. I was good friends with Bobby first. It took a long time for me to realize that, even though we got along well, there should be more in a relationship—like excitement.”

I fidget as I try to think of the right way to express sexual attraction without saying the words. Then to my horror, I realize that I’m caressing my own arm and Noah is watching me. Our eyes meet andhe knows. His eyes crinkle at the corners like he’s trying not to laugh at me—poor sexually-unsatisfied Zoe.

I search desperately for a new topic. “I’m not looking forward to this auction date thing tomorrow.”

“Me either,” Noah agrees.

“Yeah, but you’re a more experienced dater than I am.” I’m nervously determined to portray myself in the worst possible light tonight.

“What do you know about my dating history?” Noah sounds more amused than irritated.

I look for a way to avoid confessing to stalking his Instagram. “Have you dated more than one person?”

He nods.

“Then, you win.” Awesome, I’ve avoided a reputation as an internet stalker in exchange for one as a total loser.

“You’re very different,” Noah says.

Is that good or bad? Probably bad. I’m so not in his league.

The next night, we drive to the auction together.

When we get to the event room, Helen has orchestrated a whole party vibe with music and crazy lighting. Two of my teammates are selling raffle tickets at the front. It’s priced like a 50/50 draw.

“One ticket for $3.00, Ten for $20, or an arm’s length for $40. $40 is the best deal,” Cassie tells us.

But as Noah pulls out his wallet, Helen swoops in. “There you are. Everyone’s waiting.” She drags him away.

Rocky comes over to greet me. She’s all dressed up in black jeans and a complicated white blouse.

“Very sexy pirate,” I tell her.

“And you didn’t get dressed up at all,” she scolds me. “How will you maximize your bids?”

“I don’t believe in false advertising. Anyway, I’m the sacrifice to make sure that Noah is in the auction. He’s the real money-maker.”

Rocky agrees to split an arm’s length of tickets with me and then drags me to the washroom to fix me up. “I knew you would do this. So I brought a top for you.”

She pulls out a navy top, which turns out to be tighter than anything I would ever wear. Then she undoes my ponytail, brushes out my hair, and puts lipstick on me.

“What will I do without you when we graduate?” I wonder.

Rocky leads me back out into the fray. “You could do these things for yourself if you weren’t shovelling goat shit until two minutes before you hopped into the car. We’re just fortunate that you don’t smell like the barnyard.”

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