The Bull, The Cat, and The Orange Sky

The sunset that night was ORANGE, the kind that makes everything look like it's been dipped in honey and bad decisions. I stood at the edge of Jordan's backyard party, sweating through my favorite vintage tee even though it was barely seventy degrees.

Jordan's parents had gone full rich-person: tiki torches, a taco truck, and—randomly—a mechanical BULL parked on the lawn where the garden used to be. The whole popular crew was taking turns, each ride more performative than the last. Tyler threw himself off dramatically on purpose. Everyone screamed like he'd saved them from a burning building.

I pressed my PALM against my phone screen, checking Instagram for the third time in two minutes. No new notifications. No surprise texts from him.

"You gonna ride or what?" Maya appeared beside me, holding two red cups. Her eyeliner was perfect, naturally. I looked like a raccoon who'd been crying. "Or are you just gonna stand there looking like a CAT that's been sprayed with a hose?"

"I'm observing," I said, taking the cup. "It's called being strategic."

"It's called being scared, babe." She bumped my shoulder. "Tyler broke his thumb on that thing last summer, but like—worth it for the clout, right?"

I snorted. Sipped whatever was in the cup. Tasted like gasoline and fake lemon.

The operator—a guy with arms the size of my thighs and a mustache that deserved its own zip code—nodded at me. "Next up."

Before I could retreat, someone was shoving me forward. The mechanical bull spun beneath me, deceptively innocent at first. I grabbed the rope with both hands, knees locked, heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.

Then it started.

The bull jerked left. I leaned right. It bucked, I slid, I hung on through sheer terror and the sudden realization that everyone was watching. Really watching. For the first time all night, I wasn't the quiet girl in the corner. I was the girl who might actually do something.

I flew off eight seconds in, landing in something that was definitely not graceful. But as I picked grass out of my hair, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, I realized Tyler was recording. Maya was cheering. The ORANGE sky had faded to purple, and for the first time in forever, I wasn't watching from the sidelines.

Sometimes you have to get thrown off a mechanical BULL to figure out how to land on your own feet.