The Friday Night I Became Legend

I didn't plan on becoming school royalty. Honestly, I was just trying to survive freshman year without dying of cringe.

Then came the Home pep rally, and somehow—still don't know how—I got voluntold for the halftime show. The seniors decided we needed to 'revive traditions,' which apparently meant building a human pyramid in the gym while wearing those ridiculous bull costumes from the drama department storage.

'You got this, freshie,' Tyler yelled, slapping my shoulder pads. 'Just don't let the whole thing collapse like last year.'

Last year? This was a TRADITION?

The pyramid started forming. Two beefy sophomores on bottom, then two juniors, then me—tiny, anxious, questioning every life choice that led here—perched on top. The gym went silent. My hands were sweating inside the bull head. I could barely see through the mesh eyeholes.

'Stay STILL,' someone hissed from below. 'You're shaking like a leaf.'

Then my principal's voice came over the mic: 'And now, the moment you've ALL been waiting for—the Hall of Champions inductee announcement!'

They wanted the pyramid to HOLD POSES while they announced names.

I lasted approximately three seconds before the bull head slipped. The whole pyramid tipped. Everyone went down in a heap of limbs and faux fur. The gym ERUPTED. Some people were screaming, others were losing it laughing. I lay there staring at the ceiling, certain my social life was officially over.

But then something weird happened. People started clapping. Then cheering. Tyler helped me up, still cracking up.

'Dude,' he said, 'that was LEGIT the funniest thing I've ever seen. You're basically a legend now.'

Later at In-N-Out, random kids kept coming up to me. 'Are you the bull pyramid guy?' 'That was SO clutch.' My Instagram was blowing up.

Apparently I'd bear-rolled my way into accidental popularity. Not how I imagined high school starting, but hey—I'll take the L if it means free fries and high-fives in the hallway.