When the Bull Bucked

The papaya Incident would go down in Cedar High history, right behind the time Jake Miller threw up in the trombone during halftime.

Maya stood behind the juice bar at Leo's birthday beach bash, squeezing oranges like her life depended on it. Her palms were sweating, which was gross and inconvenient, because she was also supposed to be serving drinks to half the junior class.

"You gonna ride that bull or what?" Someone shouted over the thumping bass.

The mechanical bull. Of course Leo's rich parents had rented a mechanical bull. Because nothing says "I'm turning seventeen" like potentially concussing your friends in front of everyone.

Maya's eyes found him across the party—Javier, with his effortless smile and his hair that somehow looked good even in beach wind. He'd already ridden the bull twice, staying on like it was nothing. Maya had been crushing on him since chemistry, when he'd helped her through a lab she totally messed up and hadn't made her feel stupid about it.

"Maya! Your turn!" Leo materialized, shoving a plastic cup of papaya mango blend into her hand. "Everyone's gotta ride. House rules."

"I'm good," she said, but her voice betrayed her—tiny and shaky.

"Come on, don't be chicken."

The group around the bull grew quiet. Someone started that chant. That chant. The one that haunts high schoolers' nightmares.

Maya's heart hammered. She could feel everyone's eyes—Javier's eyes—burning into her back. It was just a machine. Just a stupid mechanical bull that couldn't actually hurt her, probably.

She climbed on.

The first buck sent her flying into the air, her hair whipping around her face, her grip failing. She lasted exactly 3.7 seconds before hitting the inflatable mat with an ungraceful thud.

Silence.

Then laughter. Not mean laughter—everyone was falling over themselves at how spectacularly she'd failed. Maya's face burned hotter than the July sun.

But then Javier was there, extending a hand to help her up, still grinning. "That was epic," he said. "I've never seen anyone launch themselves that far."

"I'm never living this down," she muttered, dusting sand off her shorts.

"Nah," he said, squeezing her shoulder before letting go. "It takes guts to try something you know you'll suck at. That's cooler than staying on."

Maya watched him walk back toward the bonfire, papaya juice still sticky on her fingers, palms still sweating but for a different reason now. Some bruises were worth it.