Spinach Truths & Mechanical Dreams

The county fair spun with neon lights and screaming teenagers, but I was stuck behind the spinach dip booth, wiping down the counter for the third time tonight.

"Yo Maya, you good?" Kenya asked, bouncing on her heels like she'd consumed way too much cotton candy. "The mechanical bull is about to start. Jason's riding first."

I smoothed my apron. "I'm working. Unlike some people."

"You're always working." Kenya grabbed my arm, her eyes wide. "I saw Jason and his crew talking about you earlier. They said you're too scared to ride the bull."

My face heated up. Okay, maybe I'd never ridden a mechanical bull before. But I wasn't scared. Just... cautious. Responsible. The same way I was responsible for covering all of Kenya's shifts when she "got busy" doing literally anything else.

"Let them think what they want," I said, but Kenya was already dragging me toward the crowd.

The bull operator — a guy with a handlebar mustache and a faded shirt that said BULL RIDING INSTRUCTOR — adjusted his headset. "Who's next? Who's got the guts to take on the BEAR?"

Wait, did he just call it a bear?

Kenya shoved me forward. "Maya's up!"

The crowd roared like I was some kind of celebrity, or maybe they were just bored. Jason watched from the side, arms crossed, looking annoyingly confident.

I climbed onto the mechanical bull. It lurched beneath me, already moving. The operator's voice crackled through the speakers. "Alright, let's see what you got!"

The bull bucked hard. I gripped the handle with my legs, my body swinging to the side. Something flew out of my pocket — my phone, my keys, no — a bag of spinach I'd snagged from the cooler for a snack later. Green leaves scattered everywhere like tiny salad confetti.

The crowd went wild. Someone shouted, "Is that SPINACH?" and another person yelled, "Girl's trying to be healthy while risking her life!"

I should've been embarrassed. I should've let go and tumbled off into the padding. But something snapped inside me. All the times I'd covered for Kenya, all the times I'd stayed quiet while Jason made snide comments about my "boring" job, all the times I'd played it safe — they all flashed through my mind.

I dug my heels in tighter. The bull spun and kicked, but I rode it out, my hair whipping around my face like a storm.

The timer counted down. Ten seconds. Five. Three. One.

The bull slowed to a stop, and I was still on it.

The cheering was so loud it vibrated in my chest. The operator high-fived me. "New record for the night!"

I climbed down, breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs. Kenya grabbed me in a hug. "You were amazing!"

Jason walked over, looking at me differently. "Not bad."

"Not bad?" Kenya rolled her eyes. "She stayed on longer than you."

Jason's smile was genuine this time. "Yeah. She did."

Later, as we walked toward the parking lot, Kenya nudged me. "So... about that spinach."

"Don't. Just don't."

She laughed. "No, really. It was awesome. You just showed everyone you can be yourself — spinach and all — and still totally crush it."

I grinned at the fair lights twinkling against the night sky. Maybe next time, I'd even bring the spinach dip.