Riding the Mechanical Bull

Marcus's iPhone buzzed in his pocket as he leaned against the fence of the county fair, trying to look like he belonged. Across the ring, Jasmine—the girl who sat three rows ahead in homeroom—was laughing with her friends, her cowboy hat tilted just right like she'd been wearing one her whole life. Meanwhile, Marcus had grabbed his hat from the dollar bin at Walmart that morning, and he could feel the sweat already pooling underneath it.

"You gonna ride that mechanical bull or just stare at it all night?" his best friend Ty asked, elbowing him.

Marcus checked his phone again. Still no reply to the DM he'd sent Jasmine yesterday. His stomach did that thing it always did when he thought about actually talking to her—not quite nausea, more like his insides were doing jumping jacks. His charging cable dangled from his backpack pocket, frayed at the ends because he refused to spend twenty bucks on a new one.

"I'm thinking about it," Marcus lied.

The mechanical bull—a massive steel beast with fake horns that looked kind of ridiculous but also kind of terrifying—spun to life. Some guy from a neighboring high school lasted three seconds before flying off into the padding. The crowd went wild.

Then Jasmine stepped up.

Marcus watched, transfixed, as she adjusted her hat, swung her leg over the bull, and grabbed the rope with one hand. The operator—a guy with a beard down to his chest—grinned and hit the button.

Jasmine lasted twelve seconds. TWELVE. The longest ride of the night. When she finally slid off, landing on her feet like it was nothing, she flipped her hair back and the crowd went absolutely feral.

Marcus's phone vibrated. A message from Jasmine.

"ur turn. dont overthink it :))"

He looked up. She was watching him, waiting. His stomach flipped again, but something else was there too—a weird spark of courage he hadn't felt before. He adjusted his dumb Walmart hat, handed his phone to Ty, and walked toward the bull.

Six seconds. Not Jasmine-level impressive, but he didn't immediately embarrass himself either. As he climbed off, dizzy and grinning, Jasmine was already there.

"Not bad," she said, handing him a bottle of water. "Tomorrow's the final round. You coming back?"

Marcus couldn't stop smiling. "Wouldn't miss it."

His phone sat forgotten in Ty's hand, notifications piling up. For once, he didn't care.