Thunder in My Chest

The thunderstorm outside matched the chaos in Jax's head. Her best friend Zara was practically vibrating with energy, going on about the county fair like it was the most important event of the century. Jax barely heard her over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"You're coming, end of discussion," Zara said, grabbing Jax's arm. "Marcus's bully friend is gonna be there, and I'm not letting you miss out just because he made that gross comment about your track uniform."

Jax winced. The comment had stung, sure, but what really bothered her was how Zara always turned everything into a confrontation. Jax preferred running—literally. She was the fastest sprinter on their school's track team, and nothing cleared her head like the rhythm of her sneakers hitting pavement.

So naturally, Zara signed her up for the 4-H bull-riding competition. Not the real bulls—the mechanical ones.

"You're kidding, right?" Jax stared at the metal monstrosity painted like a Texas longhorn. People were already filming on their phones. This would be all over TikTok by morning.

"You've got this," Zara said, but her eyes were dancing with mischief. "Show everyone you're not just some quiet track girl who runs away from everything."

That hit harder than Jax expected.

The first ride was disastrous. She lasted 3.2 seconds before face-planting into the sawdust. Laughter erupted—not mean laughter, but still humiliation burned her cheeks like wildfire. But then she saw Marcus and his friends in the back, and something shifted.

She climbed back on.

The second time, Jax didn't just hold on—she moved with it. Let her body flow like she did when running, finding that sweet spot where balance and instinct took over. Eight seconds. Then twelve. The crowd started cheering for real.

Then lightning cracked overhead, and the power flickered out.

In that split second of darkness, with rain suddenly pouring through the open-air arena, Jax laughed until her sides hurt. Zara was laughing too, and even Marcus's crew looked impressed despite themselves.

"Okay," Jax said, hair plastered to her face, adrenaline making her hands shake. "That was actually sick."

"Told you," Zara grinned. "But next time, we're doing the real ones."

Jax just shook her head. Some things could wait. For now, this was enough. She'd faced something terrifying—and she hadn't run away. Not even once.