Mechanical Bull and Friday Nights

I was basically a zombie by sixth period Friday. Three hours of sleep will do that to you. Leo caught my eye in AP Chem and I gave him the universal "save me" look, but he just smirked and went back to taking notes like the teacher's pet he secretly was.

"You good?" Maya whispered from across the aisle.

"Living dead," I mouthed back, which wasn't even dramatic. College application deadlines were eating everyone alive, and I'd spent half the night rewriting my essay for the third time.

Later, at Tyler's party, everything went sideways. Marcus—that absolute bull of a human being—decided tonight was the night he'd finally make his move on Maya in the most aggressive way possible. He'd been plotting it all week, talking mad game about how she'd definitely be into him.

The party had this sketchy mechanical bull setup in the backyard because Tyler's parents were conveniently "out of town" again. Because nothing says "responsible gathering" like drunk teenagers trying not to get launched into someone's pool.

Marcus was DOMINATING that bull. Shirt off, ego fully unleashed, probably thinking he was proving something. Maya was visibly cringing from the patio, shooting me these horrified glances like "please help."

I caught Leo's eye and he nodded. We'd been best friends since seventh grade, back before high school turned everything into a performance. Without even speaking, we moved—Leo grabbed Maya's arm and steered her toward the drinks, and I planted myself right in Marcus's line of sight when he finally climbed off.

"She's not interested, bro," I said, voice steady even though my heart was hammering.

Marcus got in my face, chest puffed out. "What did you say to me?"

"You heard me."

Everything went dead silent. Then Leo was there, standing beside me, and Maya stepped up too. And suddenly it wasn't just me anymore—it was all of us, this united front, and I realized Marcus was actually terrified. The bull in the room wasn't him anymore.

We walked out together, Maya squeezing my hand. Past the treeline, a fox darted across the road—this gorgeous, sleek thing that paused and looked right at us before vanishing into the darkness.

"Did you see that?" Maya breathed.

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, we did."

We ended up at the diner until 2 AM, eating French fries and talking about everything except what almost happened. And for the first time in months, I didn't feel like a zombie anymore. I felt awake.

Sometimes the scariest moments are the ones that wake you up.