I hear Kacey’s laugh on the other end.
I didn’t realize I was on speakerphone, but that’s fine. Maybe she’ll tell Jessie.
“Trey, you’re going to give him a stroke,” she says.
“Is that vein in his forehead popping out?”
“Yes,” she giggles.
“Perfect. I feel better now.”
“I’m hanging up. Take this seriously, please,” Knox grumbles.
“Probably best. I’m guessing you don’t want to hear about the super glue I have—”
He hangs up on me and I only laugh harder.
Don’t get me wrong, I want to make the finals, but more than that, I want to ride this bull and get on the road. I plan to head straight back to Colorado. I haven’t heard from Jessie since I left nearly three weeks ago, but we have unfinished business. If she thinks I’m not about to make the case of my life fighting for us, she has another thing coming.
The rodeo passes quickly. I rope up my bull in the alley and climb onto the back of the chutes. I’m last out, I watch the other boys nod and buck off. They haven’t ridden a single bull here. If I win it all, I might finish fourteenth in the world.
I’m sitting in the chute, waiting on the bull in the arena to leave. I turn to Dax, who is holding the tail of my rope ready to pull it for me. “I’m hungry. Think I’ve got time for a chili dog?”
He smiles, shaking his head. “How are you thinking about food right now? You should probably think about this bull.”
“Now you sound like Knox. You two are way too serious. Besides, there’s no way I’m bucking off cute little Bug Eyes here.” The bull I drew is one of those ugly-cute ones. He’s a dark red brindle with a white face, two crooked cow horns and bugged out eyes. Hence the name Bug Eyes. He’s not mean at all—he’s the least intimidating bull tonight.
The bull leaves the arena, and I warm my rope up as everyone around me gets set. I set my hand a little more to the right than I normally do. This little guy doesn’t have power, but he does have speed.
Dax pulls my rope.
I take a few deep breaths as I take my wrap, then I slide up and nod.
Bug Eyes turns back into the gate to the right.
I throw my free arm over my head and look at the inside shoulder.
He’s fast, but he doesn’t kick very hard.
I feel my hips start to slide inside the spin, so I look towards the outside shoulder and throw my free arm in front of me to square my hips. As soon as I’m back in the middle, I kick loose with my outside foot.
He doesn’t give me enough momentum to be able to spur him, but it helps me keep the same timing. He’s making so many rounds, I’m not sure how he isn’t dizzy because I’m starting to get dizzy.
I start sliding away from my rope again, so I stick my chest out and lift on my rope, shuffling my feet back behind his shoulders. He’s so fast, I keep throwing my free arm and shuffling my feet.
The whistle blows, and I pull my tail, but in doing so I slide off my rope. This causes me to get slung forward in a rolling motion. It works though—I hit the ground and roll right to my feet like it was all a part of the plan from the beginning.
The crowd roars for their only qualified ride. I’ve been trying to get back into my groove, so I throw my arms up, hyping the crowd up more—even if I don’t feel on top of the world—as the bullfighters try to get Bug Eyes to stop spinning. He finally stops, looks at both bullfighters, then turns and walks out of the arena. One of them hands me my rope as they congratulate me.
The announcer comes across the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, let’s hear it for your only qualified ride! How about 86 points for the win?”
The crowd goes wild. Kids along the fence call my name. I jog over and climb the fence to reach the stands, bumping knuckles with several of them. That’s when I see it: a flash of red hair moving this way.
No way.
It’s someone else. I must miss her so much, I’m grasping at straws. I swing my leg back over the fence to climb down.
“Trey!”
