Bullheaded

I know you were looking forward to this—”
    “It’s okay.” Johnny swallowed hard. “If I were in his shoes, I’d want to go out there one last time too.”
    “Thanks, Johnny.” Vern didn’t say any more, but Johnny could sense his relief.
    “So I guess I need to find out about getting a spot back with the touring division to finish out the year.” He clasped his hands together so Vern wouldn’t see how they were shaking.
    “We signed a contract through the finals, kid. I’m not tearing it up and I hope you won’t either,” Vern said in his usual gruff manner.
    “But you don’t want to pay me for doing nothing,” Johnny protested. “And I’m not so sure I just want to sit around getting fat for the rest of the year.”
    Vern laughed. “You’re so skinny, without your vest you don’t even cast a shadow. If you packed on a few, maybe you’d look nearly human.”
    Johnny grinned. “Thanks a lot.”
    Vern cleared his throat nervously. “Look, kid, you ever repeat this and I’ll deny it to my grave. I can’t let you go back to the touring division. You didn’t hear this from me but I think Chris is making a mistake coming back so soon. I’d bet money you and him are going to be working alternating weekends. He’ll want to be in the ring every night leading up to the finals, but he might need a little help getting there.”
    Johnny nodded. He knew how it felt when he thought he’d be sent back to touring, if he was lucky enough that they had a spot for him. “I’d appreciate it.”
    “And don’t make plans to jet set off to Hawaii for the finals either,” Vern said. “All four of us will be in the ring for it. We got new bulls coming in that ain’t used to the lights and explosions. We’ll have alternate riders up from touring. We’ll need a four-man team.”
    “Thanks.” It was a relief to know Vern wasn’t ready to get rid of him after the shock of hearing Chris was coming back, but coming right after the fight with Cody, it was a tough hit to take. As if everything were going wrong all at once and he was hitting rock bottom.
    The only good thing was at least he wouldn’t have to face Cody in the ring next week in Detroit. He needed a little time to think about what his life would be like without him. Being with Cody made him realize he’d always hoped somehow they could work things out eventually.
    If Vern thought his distraction was due to Chris taking his spot on the team, Johnny was willing to let him think so. It felt as though he were losing everything.

    C ODY grunted as he hit the ground and curls of dust covered his clothes and sifted into his nostrils. He rolled over and up onto his feet just in time to sprint for the fence and jump up on the rails right before the bull. The bullfighters at this exhibition were no Johnny. They weren’t even Vern or Reese. Granted, even fighters had to start somewhere, but he could have used a little more help at this juncture.
    When they finally managed to entice the bull out of the ring, Cody jumped down and found his rope. He refused to look up in the stands, knowing what he’d see: fans who had come to see him, a famous rider known for his ability to stay on board a tornado, disappointed because a green two-year-old had tossed him around like a rag doll.
    Cody didn’t blame them. They couldn’t possibly be more disappointed in him than he was himself. Since that one night with Johnny, he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his own failure. Cody knew he could ride, but that sense of being a loser seemed to permeate everything. Fuck, in the box, his own rope had broken and he’d had to borrow Dub’s.
    Dragging the bell behind him on the concrete to keep the cameraman at bay, Cody hurried to the locker room. He could imagine the ring announcer’s comments now, wondering what was going on with him, commenting on the length of his unusual buckoff streak. This was the seventh straight ride he’d blown, and maybe they’d be asking if he would even make it to the finals.
    Crap, Dub was beating him to hell and back. Even the rookies were riding better. And Cody had been the last rider today, supposedly the featured star. Those folks in the stands would go home with his failure engraved on their minds.
    Dub was waiting for him in the locker room and held out his hand for his rope. “Damn, Cody. You couldn’t jump off as fast as that bull bucked you off.”
    “Yeah, I think you put a jinx on your rope,” Cody