Page 7 of Snowballed

Rocky smiles. “A do-it-yourself brick oven that the big bad wolf can blow down. Very picturesque.”

I laugh. “Okay, my backup plan is making ready-to-cook pizzas and selling them to other students at Moo U.”

The dough is finished, so I begin slicing tomatoes still warm from the garden. I stir the onions gently caramelizing on the stove. Each pizza is different, depending on what’s ready in the garden. I’ll top this one with peppers and a sprinkling of the last basil leaves.

I spread goat cheese over the dough.

Rocky steals a piece of cheese, pops it in her mouth, and nods her approval. “Did you make this chèvre?”

“Of course.” Goat cheese is a breeze to make.

Once I’m done, I take the pizza outside to cook on the barbecue. Rocky follows, bringing a cider for me.

“Shall we eat out here?” I ask. The slight chill in the evening air is a sure sign of the coming fall.

She scrunches her nose. “It’s a bit stinky out here.”

I laugh. I don’t even notice the farm smells anymore, but Rocky is a complete city girl.

As the pizza cooks, I pull out my phone and check my notifications. “Oh my gosh,” I say and speed-read a new email. “Oh, yes!”

I jump up and do a hip-swinging, fist-pumping victory dance.

Rocky laughs. “You crazy person. What’s happening?”

“The best news! Hey, Mom,” I yell.

My mother emerges; she’s all ready to go out. “What is it?”

I wave my phone in the air. “I got a hit on my ad. The one you said would never work.”

She takes the phone and reads the email.

I hover over her shoulder, still jittery with excitement. “See! Now we don’t have to worry about Derek being gone. We have someone to replace him. Noah Goodwin.”

“Noah Goodwin?” Rocky says. “That name is familiar.”

My mother shakes her head. “I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.”

“Who wouldn’t love living on a farm?” I say. Both my mother and Rocky shake their heads simultaneously, but I’m used to their cynicism. Besides, I’m so relieved that I get to shelve the discussion of selling the farm that nothing could bring me down now.

Rocky stares at her phone. “Do you know who he is? He’s playing Moo U men’s hockey this year. He’s the son of Gary Goodwin, who used to play defense for the Kings. His mom is figure skater Candy Sugimoto. And his brother was a first-round draft pick this year.”

“Really? Why on earth would someone like that board at our house?” my mom asks.

I’m stunned by the news too. This Noah guy must be rich and well-connected. Why would he live here? Smoke from under the grill lid reminds me to move the pizza around.

“Maybe it’s not the same guy,” I say. But what are the chances of two guys named Noah Goodwin playing Moo U hockey?

“Make sure it’s not your brother pranking us,” says my mom. She waves at us before taking off in her ancient sedan.

The pizza is done, so I slide it onto a baking sheet, and we go back into the house.

“Is your mom going on a date?” Rocky asks.

I shake my head. “What? That’s ridiculous.”

“She’s very dressed up. Also, more… excited?” Rocky says.

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