When the Bull Charged

Marcus stood frozen, palms sweating against his phone case. The Spring Fling was in full swing—literally—because somewhere behind him, a mechanical bull was bucking someone into next week.

"You look like a zombie, bro," said Maya, his oldest friend, flicking his forehead. "You haven't blinked in seven minutes."

"I'm not staring at her," Marcus lied.

"Her" was Elena, who was currently laughing with her friends by the food trucks. She looked effortless in that way that made the rest of them feel like they were trying too hard just by existing.

"Then go talk to her," Maya said, already shoving him forward. "Or I will end you."

"Maya, wait—"

But she'd already plotted her course of action. Because that was the thing about Maya. She didn't believe in patience. She believed in chaos.

The next thing Marcus knew, she was dragging him toward the crowd gathering around the mechanical bull. The operator—a dude with an impressive mustache and zero safety concerns—was already collecting five bucks from anyone brave enough to get thrown around in front of their entire high school.

"Your name on the list," Maya announced, depositing a crumpled five from her pocket.

"Absolutely not," Marcus started.

"Do it for Elena," she whispered. "Girls love guys who almost die. It's a fact."

It was not a fact.

But Marcus found himself climbing onto the bull anyway because sometimes friendship was about making terrible decisions together. He adjusted his grip. The operator winked.

"Hang tight, cowboy."

The bull jerked to life—slowly at first, then violent, jerking left and right like it had a personal vendetta against his dignity. The crowd was screaming something. His phone was vibrating in his pocket. Elena was probably watching. Probably laughing.

Then he was flying through the air, landing on the inflatable mat with an oof that knocked the wind out of him.

He opened his eyes to Elena standing over him, grinning.

"Nice dismount," she said, extending a hand. "You really sold the whole 'I have zero coordination' thing."

He took her hand—soft palm, steady grip—and let her pull him up.

"That was the plan," he said, grinning back. "All part of my strategy."

She laughed. A genuine laugh.

"Well, zombie boy," she said. "You want to get food? I heard they have mini donuts."

From across the carnival, Maya gave him two thumbs up.

Sometimes, Marcus decided as he walked away with Elena, friendship really was about making terrible decisions together.