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"Cody, do you need help strapping in?" the man asked.
"Yeah, I'm one-armed."
"And riding on her off-hand," Jake said. "She had a bad ride last night. Still stayed on for eight, but messed up her riding arm. This means we're going to get to see if girls really can do it." He was quoting the sleeve of my shirt.
Usually, that was the arm I had up and waving for all the fans to see. This time, it wasn't. Nope, my other arm felt a little more fitting right now.
"Better," I told Jake just as Dad got the rope around.
"Fingers open," he ordered.
So I tried, the new leather and heavy coating of fresh rosin making it hard. "That's as much as you get," I told him.
"It'll be enough," he promised, doubling up the tail in my palm.
"Dad, I can't hold that much!"
"Yeah, Cody, you can," he assured me. "And when you're done riding, you just open those fingers, and this'll all come undone. If you ain't done, you hold on tight, ok? Just eight seconds, kiddo. You got this."
"Yeah, I do," I assured him.
He patted the top of my helmet and stepped back over. The chute man nodded at me, letting me know it was my turn. There was nothing else to wait on, but I was still standing on the rails. All I had to do was get on this bad boy, and yet for the first time in years, I was nervous.
The last time I'd ridden this bull, I'd gotten my spur caught in my rope. Tanner had saved me, but he wasn't here for this. The last time I'd ridden this bull, he'd hooked me before I could get out of the dirt. Jorge wasn't here to turn him. The last time I'd ridden this bull, he'd tossed me through the air, and Isaac wasn't here to help either.
Nope, this was all on me, and I didn't get the luxury of playing it safe.
So, dropping down on the bull's back, I shoved my knees into his armpits and let my legs lock into place around this monster's massive girth. Disco Breakout was a big boy, so the moment my ass was on his back, I was nodding, planning to let the beast's size do half my work for me.
The gate clanked and swung open. My bull tensed at the feeling of weight on him, but he saw his way out. Up. It was always up with the good ones, and Disco Breakout didn't disappoint.
For a moment, the pair of us were suspended in the air, all four of his legs off the ground, but mine were nice and tight on his sides. My injured arm flew up, helping keep me in the middle. Pain flared, but I ignored it. The flash of lights made it clear there was going to be at least one photo of this.
Then we came down, hitting hard. I tried not to think about it too much. Everything was backwards from what I was used to, but I could do this. I knew how to ride. It was just like fucking, right? All I had to do was stop thinking and start feeling, moving with my partner, and right now that was this bull.
Disco Breakout's front end came back up, then his haunches followed, rocking me right in the middle. He wasn't the most consistent about his rhythm, but it was ok. His bucks were big, flashy, and I'd come a long way from the nervous little girl trying to believe she actually belonged here. This time, if nothing else, I knew how to spur.
So I raked my heels up the bull's sides with his movements. My pink and black chaps flared out around us, the rhinestones sparkling under the bright lights in the arena. The bull grunted, slinging his head as he tried to get me off, yet I knew these tricks. I had this. I was a fuckingbull rider.
But when he went in for his spins, it was to the left. That should've been my good side - when I was riding left-handed. Right now, it was my weak side. My rump slipped. The bull felt it and decided to double down.
His bucks got bigger. His hips slung me around as he turned. This beast wasn't trying to make a tight circle. Nope, he was just doing his best to get me off his side, and I was going to stick up here like a tick. I was locked in, I was hanging on, and right now I was a hell of a lot safer on top of this bad boy than I would be on the dirt, so I rode with all I had.
Another big buck threw us into the air. My upper body leaned too far forward, but my arm let me heave myself back. Pain flared in my elbow, proving not even the tape was enough to stop that, but I only needed a few seconds. Eight of them, to be exact. I could handle the pain that long.
My right arm was flexing, holding me in place. My left was whipping around, keeping me centered. Everything was going my way as the clock was running down, but then Disco Breakout doubled back. Turning hard, the bull never stopped bucking even as he reversed directions.
All the motion that had been going one way wanted to keep doing so even as the bull moved the other way. I flopped, my head dropping much too close to the bull's horns. My chest nearly hit that pretty little heart on his withers, but from the side I could hear someone yelling.
"Ride it! Keep going! Ride it, Cody!"
That sounded like J.D., and even if I was just imagining it, those words gave me just enough to heave myself back up. Backwards. All of this was the opposite of what I was used to, but I could do it. I was a fucking bull rider, and Iwasdoing it. I had this!
I jerked my free arm straight up and back. My torso followed even as the pain rushed over me. It didn't matter. Right now, all the fans could see was "Better", declaring I had this. I'd been telling them for weeks that "Girls Do It." Now I was doubling down, because riding off-handed meant I was that much better.
Maybe the PBR didn't want me here. Maybe I was making history. Maybe I'd even become an icon for a few women out there. None of that mattered to me as much as the chance to make it clearIcould do this. Me, not some other woman. Me, not those boys back on the chutes.
Me, the girl who'd been told she wasn't good enough more times than I could count.
