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Creating comes with a unique thrill. Making something that wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t coaxed it into fruition is a high.
Listening to a song you wrote play on the radio.
Holding a record in your hands.
Playing in a sold-out stadium.
Performing in your hometown.
And I admit—to myself—that I’ll miss it.
Just a little.
* * *
It takes me about an hour after stepping offstage to get through the crowd outside the tent, requesting autographs and selfies, and reach the spot where Hudson texted they were waiting.
It turns out to be the mechanical bull.
Danny spots me first and ambles over. “Hey, Spencer! Great show!”
“Thanks,” I say, distracted.
I’m focused on the redhead standing by the ride’s entrance. Morgan gestures toward the fake bull, saying something to Piper that she smiles at.
I sip some more water, staring. Ella and Natasha are standing nearby, both watching with wide eyes.
Thinking,There’s no way she’ll do it.
Piper glances my way, like she sensed my presence and can hear me doubting her. Pink darkens her cheeks when she realizes my attention is already on her.
Without really thinking about it, I take a few steps closer.
More people notice me, calling out and congratulating me. I’ve never been more irritated by the attention. Wished for anonymity as much.
I acknowledge them, but my attention is fixed on Piper as she kicks off her shoes and walks across the inflatable ring.
“How’d you talk her into that?” Hudson is asking Morgan when I reach where they’re standing.
“It was her idea.”
“Maybe you underestimated me.”
Maybe I keep doing it because I’m looking for flaws. For reasons she’s wrong for me.
Piper manages to jump into the seat on her first try, tucking her dress beneath her thighs. The ride attendant says something to her. Piper nods, then grabs the strap with her left hand and holds her right in the air.
I hold my breath as the ride starts to move.
Her posture remains relaxed, her feet forward.
“She’s a natural,” Morgan says.
The ride amps up to a higher speed, and my grip around the water bottle tightens. Hudson gives me a strange look when he hears the plastic crinkle.
The padding in the ring doesn’t protect from everything. Back in high school, Brett Andrews broke his wrist after taking a nasty tumble. All it takes is a split second and an awkward angle.
Piper doesn’t appear concerned about that possibility.
