Bullheaded

say go for it anyway. When the gate opens, the bull’s gotta come up under you and it’s to your advantage. If he bobbles it coming out of the gate, it’s an automatic reride for you. If he sits down in back, it’s his advantage, so unless you’re very good and very experienced, you wait him out. Once he gets up from sitting down, he’ll pitch you back on your pockets and you’ll be ass over teakettle like Bobby Blue just showed us. If he does that or just lays down in there, you wait for the judge to call a time-out. If he pokes one of your legs through the rails, start praying and get up off him as quick as you can. No score is worth a broken leg.”
    “Why do we want to get out so quick?” Zane asked.
    “Great question! The chute is a dangerous place. A lot of injuries happen in there. Know how you feel all keyed up before a ride? Well, so does the bull. You don’t want to use up your energy or the bull’s and you don’t want to get hurt. But it doesn’t mean you should rush out before you’re ready. Stay calm. Do a good wrap, make sure you get a good seat. Stay ready and let her rip.” Cody released Bobby Blue with a slap on the shoulder. “I like your balls, kid. You did good.”
    For the first time, Bobby Blue grinned. “Thanks, boss. When do we get to see you ride?”
    Cody glanced over to find Johnny frowning at him, and wondered why. “As soon as we work you all through the chute clean.” He slapped Bobby Blue on the back one last time and turned to RJ to get a young one brought down.
    They’d be riding bulls, even though they were young ones. That would be enough of a challenge for now.

    “I DON ’ T like it when they spin away from my hand,” Tommy complained. He groaned as he got up, staring resentfully after the bull that just threw him.
    “Well, there’s your problem. You got to like it no matter which way they go. It’s part of bull riding. You become known as a one-direction rider, you’ll be stuck in the lower tier forever.”
    “There’s too much to remember.”
    “It gets easier as you go along.” That time Johnny managed a whole sentence while Cody was taking a swig of water. “The whole drill gets into your muscles and you don’t—”
    “Johnny’s right,” Cody took over authoritatively. “Any of you ever played any other sport? Softball? Basketball? It’s like that. Your muscle memory gets used to it and takes over. You don’t have to think up every move, just go with it when you feel what the bull’s doing.”
    “Do you visualize your rides before you go on?” From having started out mouthy and defiant, Bobby Blue appeared to have made the leap to infatuated admirer with ease, hanging on every word that fell from Cody’s lips as if it was money, much to Johnny’s annoyance.
    “To a point,” Johnny said, just to see if Bobby Blue could even hear anyone other than Cody. “You can’t plan it all out because—”
    “Because you don’t know what the bull’s going to do. I remember this one bull—” Cody went off into a lengthy story about a bull called Dull Blade on a Chainsaw where the animal had been billed as a one-jump out of the chute, left-turner, and he had turned to the right instead throughout the entire eight seconds, with Cody emerging triumphant of course.
    Johnny scowled throughout the story. Somehow Bobby Blue’s bull-rider crush was sucking all the hotness out of Cody. Or maybe it was Cody’s reaction to it. Or maybe he just never noticed before how much Cody liked to show off. He couldn’t see Cody letting him blab on and on telling a bullfighting story. The burst of laughter at the end of the story informed him that Cody had told the funny version. He crossed his arms and scowled as he dug the toe of his boot into the dust.
    “RJ! Get Dementia for me.”
    Johnny realized Cody was looking at him but refused to meet his gaze. There was something about being caught in the laser beam of Cody’s attention. It was like walking near a lighthouse; when the beam was on you, it was dazzling. The minute it turned away, you were left cold and dark. Johnny hated that feeling; as if he just didn’t exist when Cody was concentrating on something else. Like basking in the adoration of these green youngsters.
    “Why’s he called Dementia?” Aubrey asked.
    “Why d’ya think?” Cody smirked. “Johnny’s the only one that can ride that crazy bull.”
    “Except for you, right?”
    Johnny waited to see if Cody would own