Firefly Night

CHAPTER 2.5

Wyatt had a knack for dragging in all sorts of folks, and that time it was Caleb—a stranger to most of us then, but Wyatt vouched for him, so we all went along with it. We didn't exactly hit it off right away, hell, we barely said a word to each other at first. But after a few rounds we got to talking, found out we had the rodeo in common.

Caleb, with that cocky grin of his, made this grand statement: he was gonna take on the mechanical bull.

I'd seen Caleb handle real bulls before, but I wasn't so sure about this. This bull was a monster of a machine, a steel-and-leather beast anchored in the center of the bar's floor. It sat on a large, padded platform to catch riders who got thrown off. The contraption had a wide, adjustable seat and a bunch of springs and hydraulics that worked together to make the bull jerk and twist unpredictably.

Since the bull had been installed, it had become a star attraction. For five bucks, you could take a shot at staying on for eight seconds. If you managed that, you'd win the jackpot—a growing pot of cash that drew in a lot of hopefuls.

By now, it was a decent amount of money, and the challenge was as much about the thrill as the prize.

That night Caleb had that wild look in his eyes, the kind that said he was serious, but I wasn't sure he knew what he was asking for.

"You're serious?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow. We'd just met, but the way he talked, like he had something to prove, told me enough. Caleb was green, maybe a bit too eager to show what he was made of, especially to a crowd that didn't know him from Adam.

I leaned back, giving him a once-over. "That thing ain't like the real deal. It's meaner in its own way, no rhythm to it, just pure unpredictability. You sure you wanna take it on?"

Caleb, undeterred, flashed a cocky grin and looked towards the mechanical monstrosity in the corner. "Course I'm sure. Ain't about to back down from a challenge just 'cause it's got a few gears and springs in it."

Back then we were eighteen and twenty one. Caleb's blonde hair had that wild, untamed look it'd eventually lose, and he was still figuring out his limits with booze. Though in all honestly, he never really did. But by the way he was swaying on his feet, you could tell he'd had more than a few drinks, but that didn't seem to phase him.

Wyatt snorted. "I gotta see this."

"Yeah, no kidding," I said, as the group started shuffling out of the booth. I grabbed my beer, taking a swig as I followed.

"Caleb—" Sean started, but Caleb was already striding over to the bull. He's puffed out his chest and was smiling, winking at all the ladies we pass to get their attention.

He later told me he'd been looking for a reason to escape the booth and chat up a pretty blonde at the counter who'd been giving him looks all night. But now that he'd committed to riding the bull, he was all in. He was determined to show everyone he could handle it, even if it meant making a fool of himself.

He gave it his best shot, but after about three seconds of riding, he was thrown off and landed on the floor with a thud. He flailed and scrambled to get up, trying to act like he'd meant to get thrown, but it was clear the mechanical bull had won this round. I couldn't tell if it was the bull's fault or if Caleb just didn't have the knack for it.

Wyatt and Sean were doubled over with laughter, nearly crying as they watched Caleb dust himself off. I just looked at him, barely suppressing a smirk. "You're doing it wrong," I said.

Caleb shot me a look, his face flushed red. "Like you'd do any better," he retorted, clearly embarrassed. I just raised an eyebrow and gave him my most unimpressed stare.