Page 106 of Rough Ride

Shit. I didn’t know what to think.

*

I slept like shit, a combination of nerves about the final rodeo event and thoughts of Sophie running through my head. So much for getting a good night’s sleep. If I’d known I would wake up groggy and sore, I would’ve spent the night at Sophie’s place.

I shook my head while brushing my teeth. I couldn’t allow her to distract me today. I’d have plenty of time to think about heraftertoday’s event.

My routine helped me relax today, but everything held a heightened sense of importance. The breakfast tacos I bought down the street. Getting dressed for the rodeo in my best clothes. Combing my hair, and adjusting my cowboy hat.

Hopefully it wasn’t all for nothing.

Johnny and I had been driving separately to the rodeo most of the time, so we did the same today in order to keep a sense of normalcy. He arrived first, and was waiting by the animal stalls when I walked into the employee entrance underneath the arena.

“Did you see the new riding order?” he immediately asked.

“No…” I took a few steps toward the television mounted on the wall and scanned the list of names and predicted start times. “We’re still at the end. I don’t see…”

I trailed off when I saw Chris Appleton’s name.

“They moved him up,” Johnny said. “He’s now riding right before us. And he was the only rider whose start time was changed.”

I groaned. Salmon had pulled some strings to put Appleton ahead of us… so we would know how he’d done when it was our turn.

So we could intentionally score below him.

“You thought about what you’re gonna do?” I asked.

Johnny sat on the bench and shook his head. “Spent all night thinking about it. Still no closer to figuring out the best course.”

“Same.”

A deep sense of helplessness fell over me as I stared at the riding order on the screen. The odds were stacked against us. Bull Riding was a score-based event with two judges, just like Saddle Bronc Riding. Even if we didn’tintentionallylose, the judges could screw us over to give Appleton the victory.

What was the point of fighting, when we could cash Salmon’s check and at least walk away with something?

“I think…” I said, swallowing the bile in the back of my throat. “Maybe we should let him win.”

Johnny hung his head. “Beginning to think the same thing. As much as I hate to admit it.”

“Whatever happens,” I said, “I’m glad I’m not dealing with all this bullshit by myself. Grateful to have you as a frenemy.”

I extended a hand to him, but he didn’t shake it. He stared at my palm for a few seconds, stood up, and then embraced me in a hug.

“Not a frenemy,” he said. “A friend.”

I clapped him on the back. “Shit, Johnny. You’re gonna make a cowboy cry.”

“Don’t make it weird,” Johnny said.

I pulled away. “So we can double-team a pretty lady and it’s fine, but cryin’ on your shoulder makes it weird?”

The two of us laughed, then went into our stalls to prepare.

Other participants came and went. The arena above us slowly filled with fans, their footsteps echoing down into the cavernous corridors underneath where we waited. Sometimes they roared, sometimes they sighed with disappointment. I tried not to glance at the scoreboard on the television, but eventually I caved and looked. The scores were fine, but notgreat. This event was very winnable. I allowed myself to feel a little bit of hope.

Then Appleton had his ride, and all my hope disappeared.

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