Static and Storms

My palms were sweating.

The charging cable had given up the ghost at the worst possible moment—right before I might finally get Cassie's number. Classic. My phone hovered at 3%, a digital death sentence I couldn't afford tonight.

"Liam, you good?"

Marcus, always two steps ahead, already nursing his third soda. The beach house thumped with bass that vibrated through the floorboards, kids spilling onto the deck like confetti.

I shoved my phone in my pocket.

"All good. Just—"

And then I saw her.

Cassie stood by the sliding glass door, laughing at something Jenna said, her hair falling over one shoulder like she'd practiced it in a mirror a thousand times. My heart did this thing where it forgot how to heart properly.

"Cassie's looking at you," Marcus said, grinning like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying. This is your shot."

My shot. Right.

Because the universe has this way of timing things perfectly. Just as I started walking over, Mr. Henderson's voice boomed from the kitchen.

"Who wants to ride the mechanical bull?"

The bull.

Because of course there was a mechanical bull. Because this night wasn't chaotic enough already.

Kids swarmed toward the living room like sharks to chum, and suddenly Cassie was moving too, caught in the current. I followed, trailing behind like a caboose on a runaway train.

"You going up, Liam?"

Jake from history class, clapping me on the shoulder like we were friends.

"I—maybe?"

"You should!" Cassie's voice cut through the noise. She was watching me with this expression I couldn't read—amusement? Challenge? "I bet you'd be good at it."

The bull lurched beneath Tyler's attempt to tame it, throwing him off in three seconds flat. The room erupted.

I climbed on before I could think myself out of it.

"GO LIAM!"

The machine启动ed beneath me. I gripped the handle until my knuckles went white, my body fighting against the rhythm, the world tilting sideways. Everyone was watching. Cassie was watching.

Seven seconds. Eight.

The bull bucked hard. I hung on.

Nine. Ten.

Then it happened.

Outside, a jagged bolt of lightning cracked the sky, and in that split-second distraction, the bull won.

I hit the inflatable mat, the room exploding around me.

Through the daze, I felt a hand pulling me up.

"You made it to ten," Cassie said, smiling. "That's impressive."

My phone buzzed in my pocket—my only notification all night. Mom: The dog is terrified of the thunder. Are you okay?

"Hey," Cassie said, pulling out her own phone. "Your phone's probably dying, right? We should exchange numbers before it does."

Sometimes the universe does time things perfectly.

Just not how you expect.