Riding the Bull

Leo's palms were sweating so much he could practically fill a water bottle. Standing in the middle of the carnival with his three best friends, he stared at the mechanical bull like it was some kind of ancient death trap.

"You're not actually gonna do this," Marcus said, shaking his head. "Leo, you failed gym class last semester."

"Shut up, Marcus," Leo shot back, though his stomach was doing somersaults. "I've been working out. Plus, you know what's riding on this."

If Leo could stay on this bull for eight seconds, Dakota—the cute girl from his English class—had promised to let him take her to the spring fling. If he bailed, he'd owe Marcus twenty bucks AND everyone would witness his humiliation. Classic lose-lose situation.

He'd also been worrying about the varsity baseball tryouts next week. First baseman position was open, and Coach Miller had been watching him during lunchtime pickup games. But Leo knew confidence was everything in sports, and right now? His confidence was basically nonexistent.

The sphinx tattoo on the operator's arm seemed to mock him as he stepped forward. Leo had always been the quiet one, the background character in everyone else's story. Time to step up.

He climbed onto the bull's back, gripping the handle with white-knuckled hands. His friends whooped. Dakota watched with raised eyebrows, looking annoyingly calm.

"Ready?" the operator called.

"Born ready," Leo lied.

The bull jerked forward, and Leo's entire world went sideways. He hung on through pure instinct, his body doing things he didn't know it could do. Left. Right. A sickening spin that made him want to puke. But he didn't let go.

"SEVEN! EIGHT!" the crowd counted down.

Leo flew off and landed in the padded pit, dazed but grinning like an idiot. His friends rushed over, practically lifting him up like he'd just won the championship.

"No way," Marcus kept saying. "Absolutely no way."

Dota appeared, grinning. "You looked surprisingly... capable out there."

"High praise," Leo said, still breathless. "So, about that dance?"

"Pick me up at seven," she said, walking away with a little wave.

Walking home under the palm trees that lined his street, Leo felt different. Lighter. He'd faced the bull, stayed on, and somehow won the girl. Baseball tryouts? He wasn't even worried anymore.

Sometimes growing up meant climbing onto something scary and holding on tight. Who knew an eighth-second ride could change everything?