Eight Seconds of Everything

The bass thudded through Maya's chest as she stood by the solo cups, clutching her Sprite like a lifeline. Jordan's party was exactly what she'd expected—too many people, too much perfume, and Ryan Prescott laughing too loud in the center of the room.

"You coming?" Chloe appeared beside her, eyes bright. "They brought out the mechanical bull."

Maya's stomach did something complicated. Chloe was her friend—the kind who'd known her since braces and bad haircuts—but lately everything felt different. Chloe wanted to be popular. Maya just wanted to survive junior year without anyone noticing she existed.

"Pass," Maya said. "I'm good here."

"You're always good here." Chloe's voice changed. "That's the problem."

The words hit harder than they should have. Because she wasn't just talking about the party.

Before Maya could respond, someone yelled, "Freshman on the bull!" and the room erupted. Maya looked over to see poor what's-his-name from physics bouncing off the inflatable mat like a ragdoll. Everyone was filming. Everyone was laughing.

And suddenly Maya was running.

Not away. Toward it.

Her legs moved before her brain could interfere, past Chloe's shocked expression, past the seniors with their perfect skin and fake IDs, past Ryan Prescott doing something ridiculous with a red cup. She reached the front of the crowd just as the operator was helping the physics kid off the inflatable.

"Me," Maya said. Her voice didn't shake. "I'm next."

"You sure?" The operator raised an eyebrow. "This thing's got settings."

"Highest," she said, and heard Chloe gasp behind her.

She swung her leg over the bull's back and gripped the handle. Eight seconds. That's what they said about real bull riding, right? Eight seconds of chaos, then either glory or eating dirt.

The machine roared to life beneath her.

Her body wasn't her own anymore—her hips moved instinctively, leaning into every buck and twist. Someone started counting. The room blurred into lights and noise and the pure electric feeling of staying on something that wanted her off. For eight seconds, she wasn't the quiet girl in the back row. She wasn't the friend who couldn't keep up. She was something else entirely.

Something fierce.

She flew off on second nine, landing on her back with the breath knocked out of her, staring up at the ceiling while the room went absolutely insane.

Chloe's face appeared above her, grinning like crazy. "That was—"

"Totally bull," someone said, and Maya looked up to see Ryan Prescott standing there, looking at her differently. Not like she was invisible. "No way you stayed on that long."

Maya started laughing. She couldn't stop. Her body ached and her hair was a disaster and she'd probably ruined her favorite jeans, but she felt more real than she had in months.

"Wanna go again?" Chloe asked, extending a hand.

Maya took it, pulling herself up. "Yeah," she said, already running toward another eight seconds of everything. "Yeah, I do."