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"Yeah," I agreed. "But why isn't Tanner working? Well, our normal bullfighters, I mean. Did someone get hurt?"
"Not that I know of."
Those words hung between us for a little too long, punctuated by the sound of cloth tape being unrolled and stretched. If Tanner was fine, and the other guys were fine, why had they called in the alternates? Was it the rumors about Tanner and J.D.?
No. It couldn't be.
"Do you think the bullfighters got pulled because of what the press is saying?" I asked. "Because they think Tanner's gay?"
Anthony's tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "Yeah," he finally said softly. "Cody, I think that's more likely than not." He strapped on another long line of tape. "Look, you and I know what it's like living as minorities. We know that sometimes the 'official' reasons aren't why they're doing something. We also know just how easy it is to get caught in a loophole, right?"
"Yeah," I agreed, thinking about how I couldn't dare risk scratching today.
"And you're already shaking up the PBR," he pointed out. "Adding in those two?"
I swore my heart stopped beating for a moment. "So this is my fault?"
"No!" he insisted. "Fuck no. Shit, before you showed up, they would've just canned both of them and been done with it. If you want to take blame for something, then take blame for the fact that your riding so damned good means they can't just pretend like J.D. is going to retire or that the bullfighters are, I dunno, replaceable."
"But you just said - "
He looked up, his hands pausing again. "Cody. Stop. You can't blame yourself for this place being filled with a bunch of testosterone-fueled idiots."
"Oh." I nodded, because I actually kinda agreed with him there.
But I felt like I had to do something. Tanner had been the first one to treat me like I belonged here. J.D. had taken me under his wing - and he'd gotten me my first sponsor. Now they were paying for those acts of kindness? No, that wasn't right.
"So," I said, thinking as I let the words fall from my lips, "do you think I can do anything about this?"
"I think," Anthony said, "you need to get back on a bull and make it clear their preconceived notions aren't going to slow you down. Ithinkyou are going to need a sledgehammer to break the glass ceiling, Cody. And most of all, I think that if you keep pushing hard enough, eventually the people on the other side of the TV will notice, and that's how you get your power."
"The press?" I asked.
"No," he said with a sly little smile. "The fans. Like all businesses, the PBR listens to the money. Girl, you can't just ride bulls. You need to be asensation."
I began to nod. "Yeah, I think I can do that. I kinda started this morning."
"Then just don't stop," he told me. "No matter what, don't stop until they can't block you out, even if they try."
Chapter50
A sensation.With my arm taped up so much I could barely bend my elbow, I mulled over what that word truly meant. Becoming a sensation meant standing out. Jake proved riding good wasn't enough to get noticed, otherwise he'd be a much bigger name. So that was out.
But J.D. had made his fame for throwing punches. Ty made headlines for being sexy. Austin was well known for his tantrums behind the chutes. Renato had gotten famous for spurring like a maniac. The one thing all of these guys had in common was their personal style was over the top.
I was nothing like them, though. I wanted to ride as technically correct as Ty, as consistently as Jake, as bravely as J.D., and as girly as myself. Sadly, being a girl wouldn't be enough for this. Back in Tulsa, J.D. had told me to make the boys figure out they had to keep up with me, but it wasn't working. The judges weren't scoring me fairly!
I was thinking about that as I left Sports Medicine. The Canadian rookie smiled at me when I passed, but it was finally his turn to get taped, and I needed to figure out how to become a sensation. I couldn't punch shit and make a difference. Hell, I'd already tried. Austin hadn't cared much, and I couldn't throw away ten grand every day.
But I had to do something. I had to get the focus back on me. That was what I'd started this morning with the press. Tanner wasn't gay, but he was still sidelined for some reason? Yeah, I was pretty sure it was because someone had told the press he was. It had to be! It was the only thing that made sense.
So why were the other bullfighters not being used? This couldn't be a planned thing, otherwise Tanner would've said something before we left the hotel. So no, this was a surprise, and not the good kind.
I angled away from the path that led to the arena, assuming Jake would've taken my stuff over by the locker rooms. It seemed that was where a lot of the guys liked to set up. But to get there from here, I had to make my way around the numerous cattle pens that had been made out of portable panels.
I was watching the ground, not really worried about where I was going so much as how to stand out - when I nearly ran into a pair of men in very white shirts. I jerked to a halt. They stopped as well, and all three of us looked surprised for a moment.
But I recognized the face of the taller man. He was Donald Merrill, the president of the PBR, and I'd already had a run-in with him today. The man beside him? He looked familiar, but I didn't recognize where I'd seen his face. That meant he wasn't an announcer or someone who worked behind the chutes.
