Thunder in My Pocket

The rodeo grounds smelled like funnel cakes and desperation. I clutched my iPhone 13 like it was my last connection to civilization—which, honestly, it was. My phone buzzed again.

"U coming???" read Maya's text. "Everyone's at the corral."

I groaned. I'd promised myself I'd actually *try* this year. No more hiding in the bathroom scrolling through TikTok while everyone else made memories without me. But the thought of mingling with the popular crowd made my stomach do backflips.

Then I saw him—Tanner, leaning against the fence near the bull chutes, laughing at something Jessica said. His cowboy hat was tilted just right, and my sixteen-year-old heart did that embarrassing flutter thing. Great. Now I had to go over there.

I took a breath and started walking. That's when the first drop of rain hit my nose. Then came the rumble, low and distant like a warning.

Suddenly, the announcer's voice boomed: "LAST EVENT OF THE NIGHT—BULL RIDING!"

The crowd roared. I watched, mesmerized, as a massive bull exploded from the chute, muscles rippling like thunder made flesh. The rider lasted 3.2 seconds before getting bucked off, but nobody cared. The energy was electric, everyone screaming, jumping, living.

Then I felt it—my iPhone vibrating in my pocket. Not a text. A call. From *him*.

Tanner was actually calling me?

Lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating everything in this wild flash of white. I fumbled with my phone, almost dropping it in the mud.

"Hello?"

"Maya!" Tanner's voice came through, breathless. "Where are you? We saved you a spot right by the rail. Jessica said you might not come but—"

"I'm coming," I said, and I actually meant it. I hung up and ran through the rain, my phone clutched tight, lightning flashing overhead like the whole sky was cheering me on. The bull riding was chaotic and dangerous and maybe I was crazy for going, but for the first time in forever, I wasn't watching from the sidelines.

I was in the arena.