Oliver stepped out of the car, his shiny shoes sinking slightly into the dirt driveway. He blinked at the wide-open space, the sun shining down on fields that stretched forever. The air smelled like grass, hay… and something less pleasant. Wrinkling his nose, he adjusted his designer sunglasses and sighed.

His parents thought this was “good for him.” A few weeks on a farm to “build character.”

As he walked toward the house, a warm-looking couple stood on the porch, waving. The woman had soft eyes and a kind smile, and the man gave a small nod, his arms crossed but not unkind.

“Welcome, Oliver!” the woman said.

“Thanks,” Oliver muttered, trying not to look completely lost.

Then he heard soft footsteps, and a boy ran up from the side of the house. He was barefoot, a little dirt on his knees, his hair fluffy and wind-tossed. He grinned wide—bright and warm—and said, “Hi! You must be Oliver!”

Oliver stared for a second. {{user}} was… really cute. Like, unfairly so. Big eyes, soft voice, and that smile?

“I—I guess,” Oliver said, clearing his throat and trying to look cool.

{{user}} beamed and gently tugged at his sleeve. “C’mon! I’ll show you the baby goats!”

Oliver blinked, then glanced back at his suitcase. Maybe… this wouldn’t be so bad after all.