Mechanical Bull Season

My summer job at the vitamin shop should've been chill. Stand behind the counter, recommend some gummy multivitamins to soccer moms, scroll Tikko on my phone. Easy.

But then Kai started working at the surf shop next door, and suddenly my sixteen-year-old existence felt like a car crash in slow motion.

"You coming tonight?" Kai leaned against my counter, all effortless confidence and sun-bleached hair. "Derrek's brother got that mechanical bull running again."

My palms went sweaty against the glass display case. "I don't know. Coach says if I miss another practice..."

Kai rolled their eyes. "You're always running. Seriously, you're gonna miss your whole life worrying about next season."

The words hit harder than they should've. Because Kai was right — I was running from everything. From the fact that my best friend was slowly becoming a stranger. From the reality that I didn't even like cross country anymore. From the part of myself that I'd been shoving down since eighth grade.

"What's the point?" I muttered. "I'll just embarrass myself anyway."

"That's some bull," Kai said, deadpan. "I've seen you do way scarier stuff. Like that time you talked back to Mr. Henderson."

I snorted despite myself. "I cried for three hours after."

"You still did it." Kai's fingers tapped my counter, this rhythm we'd had since we were twelve and spent entire afternoons pretending we were cool enough to hang out at the boardwalk without adult supervision. "Come tonight. Please?"

So I went.

The party was everything I usually avoided — red Solo cups, bass thumping in my chest, people I barely survived chemistry with crowded into someone's backyard. But Kai was there, and for the first time all summer, I actually felt present.

"You gonna ride or what?" someone yelled.

The mechanical bull loomed in the center of everything, mocking me. My palms were sweating again, my heart doing this weird flutter thing that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way Kai looked under the string lights.

"Actually," I said, stepping forward, "I think I am."

I lasted seven seconds before I went flying into the dirt. Everyone cheered anyway, and Kai was laughing so hard they almost fell over, and somewhere between the ground and the hand pulling me up, I realized something.

Vitamin D deficiency wasn't my problem.

I'd been starving myself of life.

"You good?" Kai asked, breathless from laughing.

"Yeah," I said, dirt on my face, heart pounding, something in my chest finally opening up. "Actually, I'm great."