Riding It Out

Marcus stood before the mechanical bull at the county fair, his heart doing gymnastics. Chloe was watching—probably laughing at his outfit. He'd borrowed his sister's neon pink cowboy **hat** because his own was back at the house, abandoned like his dignity.

"You got this, bro," Tyler said, though his expression suggested otherwise. "Just remember what the sign says: 'Ride at your own risk.'"

Marcus popped a gummy **vitamin** from his pocket—part of his mom's new wellness kick, though he'd convinced himself it was basically courage in candy form. His golden retriever, Buster, tugged at the leash, sensing Marcus's anxiety, or maybe just smelling the funnel cakes nearby. The **dog** had better social instincts than Marcus did.

The operator, a guy with a beard that could hide a small bird, grinned. "You want the 'rookie' setting or you trying to be a hero?"

"Hero," Marcus said, before his brain could veto his mouth.

Chloe appeared beside the fence, wearing that oversized vintage band tee she'd worn to school Tuesday. "You're actually doing this?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Just seems... unlike you."

That hit harder than the bull would. Since when did Marcus have a "like him"? Being himself had never gotten him noticed—except when he was being weird, or clumsy, or quiet in that uncomfortable way people commented on.

He climbed onto the mechanical **bull**, its fake leather surprisingly warm from dozens of previous riders. The operator flipped the switch, and Marcus's world became chaos.

Three seconds in, he realized the gummy vitamin had done nothing. Eight seconds in, his hat flew off into the dust. Eleven seconds in, Chloe was cheering his name.

He lasted fourteen seconds before falling—straight into Buster, who licked his face enthusiastically. Marcus lay there, dust-covered and hat-less, while everyone applauded like he'd actually accomplished something.

Chloe helped him up, handing him the neon hat. "That was actually pretty impressive."

"I lasted fourteen seconds."

"Most people don't even try." She smiled. "Wanna get funnel cakes? My treat."

Walking away, Buster trotting beside them, Marcus realized something: maybe the point wasn't being impressive. Maybe the point was showing up—that was brave enough itself. And okay, maybe Chloe's smile didn't hurt either.