Low Battery at the Bull Ride

Maya's phone was at 4%. The universal panic signal.

"Does anyone have a charger? Like, actually have one?" she called out over the bass thrumming through Jake's basement. The house party was in full swing—sophomore year's first big social battlefield—and Maya was already losing her primary weapon.

"I've got a cable!" Jake yelled back, emerging from the kitchen with the prized Lightning cord. "But you gotta earn it, Matthews."

He pointed toward the living room, where his dad's attempt at party decor had turned into the night's main event: a rented mechanical bull that had spent the past two hours launching drunk teenagers into innocent bystanders.

"No. Absolutely not." Maya adjusted her oversized flannel over her crop top. "I'm not doing that."

"Then your iPhone dies and you can't spy on what's-his-face's Instagram stories anymore." Jake dangled the cable like bait. "Your call."

He knew. Of course he knew. Everyone knew Maya had been lowkey stalking Tyler's socials since September, tracking his story views like it was classified intelligence. The mission: determine whether he actually liked her or if she was reading way too into his "haha" comments.

She grabbed the cable. "Fine. But if I die, tell Tyler I thought his music taste was actually solid."

The mechanical bull hummed to life beneath her as she climbed on, gripping the handle with both hands. Her friends formed a circle, phones raised, ready to document her potential humiliation.

The operator—Jake's older brother—locked eyes with her. "First timer?"

"Does it show?"

"Hold on tight, Matthews."

The first buck sent her flying forward, panic spiking through her chest. But then something clicked—she leaned into it, finding the rhythm, shifting her weight like she'd been training for this exact moment her whole life. Her friends were screaming, someone was filming, and she was actually doing it—riding the bull like she'd been born in a rodeo.

Eight seconds in, she spotted Tyler across the room, watching her with actual awe. Like, real awe. Not the polite nod he gave everyone in AP Euro, but genuine

impressed-maybe-even-attracted awe.

The bull jerked sideways. Maya's grip slipped.

She went down hard, landing directly onto Tyler, who'd apparently moved closer to the action at some point. They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and mumbled apologies, his hand accidentally brushing against her waist as they untangled themselves.

"Sorry," he said, not looking sorry at all. "That was... actually kind of epic."

"Epic?" Maya dusted herself off, heart racing from more than just the fall. "I almost broke my neck for a charging cable."

"Worth it though." Tyler grinned, and for the first time all night, Maya's phone felt like the least interesting thing in the room.

Jake appeared from nowhere, triumphantly plugging the cable into her now-functional phone. "You're welcome, Matthews. Now go talk to him before your battery dies for real."