The Night Everything Went Wrong Then Right

Marcus stared into his bedroom mirror, running gel through his hair for the third time. The copper strands refused to cooperate, sticking up in exactly the wrong direction. His mom's voice drifted up from downstairs: "Marcus! The cable's out again, how am I supposed to watch my shows?"

"I'll check it, Ma!" he called back, his heart already hammering against his ribs. In twenty minutes, he'd be picking up Jasmine for their first date—first EVER date—and he looked like a radioactive traffic cone had exploded on his head.

The orange shirt had seemed like a good idea when he bought it. Bold. Confident. Now it just screamed "look at me, I'm trying too hard." He considered changing, but his other options were: the stained one, the too-tight one, and the one with the weird pit stains. So orange it was.

"Marcus, seriously!" His mom's impatience grew.

He trudged downstairs, where his little brother Leo sat on the couch, controller in hand, practically vibrating with frustration. "The cable's totally out, I was gonna rank up tonight!"

Marcus knelt by the TV cabinet, fumbling with the coaxial cable that had somehow loosened itself from the wall again. His hands shook as he twisted it back in place. Why was he so nervous? It was just Jasmine. Jasmine who he'd sat behind in math for two years. Jasmine who had that laugh that made his chest feel weird. Jasmine who'd actually said YES when he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out.

The TV flickered to life. "Fixed!" he announced, probably more triumphantly than necessary.

"You look like a pumpkin," Leo observed unhelpfully.

"Shut up." Marcus checked his phone. 7:03. Time to go.

His palms were sweating as he pulled into Jasmine's driveway. She was waiting on her porch, wearing a vintage jacket over a simple dress, looking effortless and perfect and somehow NOT like a radioactive vegetable. This had been a mistake. This whole thing had been a terrible—

"Hey!" She hopped into his car, her energy bright and immediate. "Love the shirt! Orange is definitely your color."

Marcus blinked. "Really?"

"100%." She buckled her seatbelt. "So, what's the plan? Please tell me we're getting food, because I'm literally starving."

They ended up at Rosa's, this tiny taco place with outdoor seating. Marcus actually managed to eat without spilling anything on himself, which he counted as a major victory. They talked about everything and nothing—teachers they hated, shows they binged, Leo's annoying gaming habits. Jasmine made him laugh so hard his orange juice came out his nose. He should've been mortified. Instead, she was laughing too.

"I'm so sorry," he wheezed, grabbing napkins.

"No, that was genuinely the best thing that's happened all week." She grinned, and something about her smile made the messy hair and the ridiculous shirt feel... okay. Maybe even good.

They decided to walk off the food at the park downtown, the one with the weird public art installations and the fountain that was never actually on. The evening air was perfect, crisp enough for their jackets, and Marcus found himself thinking, I could get used to this. This wasn't terrifying. This was... nice. Better than nice.

That's when they heard the snort.

They both turned toward the sound, coming from behind the maintenance shed near the playground. There, standing in the halo of a flickering streetlamp, was an actual bull. A full-grown, horns-and-everything bull, staring at them with what looked like mild curiosity.

"Is that..." Jasmine started.

"I think that's a bull," Marcus finished intelligently.

"Why is there a bull in the park?"

"I literally have no idea."

They stood there for a long moment, neither moving, both seemingly unwilling to break the spell of this completely absurd moment. The bull snorted again, then slowly turned and lumbered off into the darkness, disappearing behind the community center.

"Did we just get bull-ed by a bull?" Jasmine asked, and they both lost it, laughing so hard they had to lean against each other to stay upright.

Marcus's chest felt so full it might burst. This was it. This was exactly the kind of weird, perfect, unrepeatable night people talked about when they said "teenage years." And he was living it, orange hair and orange shirt and all.

"Hey, Marcus?" Jasmine said as he walked her to her door later.

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad you asked me out."

"Me too," he said, and meant it with everything in him.

His hair was still a mess. Leo would definitely still be annoying. And somewhere in their town, there was probably still a loose bull on the loose. But somehow, Marcus knew, everything was going to be alright. More than alright. It was going to be exactly, perfectly, unexpectedly wonderful.