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J.D. reached over for his glove and yanked it on aggressively. "Ty, you need to do the same. Stop sittin' back on your pockets, thinkin' your pretty face is gonna earn you scores."
"Fuck off," Ty snapped. "Not all of us wanna be hobbling around like you before the night's over."
"Enough!" I yelled, cutting them off and making a few others look over. "I'm trying to get ready, not get riled up. So if you two wanna wave your dicks around..." I pointed to the side.
J.D. chuckled, but Ty grumbled under his breath as he started to warm up his own rope. Behind us, I heard someone joke about seeing who had the balls around here. My guys heard it too. For a little too long, we all just added rosin, worked it into the fibers with a few hard yanks down the rope, and then moved to the next spot.
"Sorry," J.D. finally said, but the words were soft.
Ty nodded. "Yep," he agreed. "Thing is, she rides like both of us. And you're right, I do need to push a little."
"You could be givin' me a run," J.D. told him. "Man, I've been waitin' for five years to have someone knock me down a bit. The two of ya? You're the only ones with a real chance to do it. That's all I'm sayin'."
"Thanks," Ty told him just as a chorus of cheers leaked in from the arena.
"Sounds like the first ride went for a full eight," I said, hoping to ease a little more of this tension.
At the same time, the announcer boomed, "And what a way to open this show! That's Jackson Cloutier with a score of 78.25! Let's hear it for this young man from Saskatchewan, Canada!"
"Hey?" I asked, the question for either of them. "Are the sponsors here or watching the stream?"
"Both," Ty informed me. "The ones who came to talk to you are probably here watching, but there will be more looking for places to add their products."
"Don't worry about it," J.D. told me. "Focus on the bull, Cody. Justthisride. Justthisbull. Sponsors are for next week."
"Well, yeah, but..."
"No," J.D. said, cutting me off. "I'm serious. Ya start tryin' to show off, and you're gonna get stomped on. Trust what you know. Ride this bull.Just this one."
"He's right," Ty said. "If you start putting on a show, they'll start expecting it every time. Just ride, Cody. Keep your chin tucked, your arm high, and let those pretty little rhinestones flash."
I finished up my rope, then bent for my bag. They were right. I knew they were, but that didn't help this feeling of nervous excitement brewing inside me. My first weekend, I'd been nothing. Last weekend, I'd been a spectacle. This weekend, I needed to show I was the real deal, and that meant gettin'er done, as they say.
But there was one more thing I needed to do. Hopefully, it would get my mind right back where it belonged. Pulling out my phone, I whipped off a text to the most important man in my life: my father.
Cody:
I'll be the seventeenth out, so you have a bit of a wait. Bull's Yeeter, kicks high but the guys don't think he's a problem.
Dad:
Make me proud, Cody! Gerardo said he's pissed that he had to hire some high school boy to help with his next cutting of hay.
Cody:
Tell Gerardo it's good for him. And I'll text you when I'm done, but it won't be until late.
Dad:
Then tell your friends to let me know if you get hurt.
Cody:
Not getting hurt, Dad. I'm getting sponsors! Talk later!
Locking my phone, I dropped that into my bag and pulled my rope off the panel. With that hanging on my shoulder, I looked between the guys. "Ok. I think I'm ready, so I'm gonna go up there and see what the layout is like."
"Right behind ya," Ty promised.
