Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better

No Guts, No Glory

Rikki

We walk into the twins apartment, I'm hoping to find my girlfriend. Bianca wasn't at work, CC hasn't seen her since this morning. I've lost her! Get the fucking milk cartons ready! I'm gonna plaster her perfect all over them. We walk in to see Robyn colouring and Ana sitting at the table with her.

"We lost our girls!" Bret yells.

"Rikki and CC are having a bitch fit over it." Bobby adds.

We all sit at the table and CC pulls Robyn up on his lap while she colours. Ana looks over to us and shrugs.

"I haven't see her, I think she said something about rugby." Ana racks her brain. "Did she have practice today?"

"Or a game?" Bret wonders look at me.

"She didn't say anything about that." I admit and CC sighs.

"First game, she wouldn't have. Bianca has this weird anxiety about first games. She's the best I've ever seen but it scared of screwing up at her first game." He explains.

"This is the same Bee that you said had the quarterback of your high school team scared of her?" Bobby wonders and he nods.

"She's close to fearless but failing gets her. She gets stage fright to." CC looks over Robyn's shoulder. "Do you know anything?"

Robyn's blue eyes grow like Bianca's does and she looks down at her paper. CC sees it to.

"No." She says quickly and her uncle smiles.

"Really?" CC smirks. "You lying to me half pint?"

"Should I be calling you Aunt CC?" Robyn challenges and we all laugh.

"Someone has been spending time with Bee." CC laughs. "Do you know something we don't, Robyn?"

"Nope." Her eyes dart around.

"You sure?" CC wonders and she sighs.

"Jamie and Auntie went to their game, I only know because I found the schedule. Aunt Bee swore me to secrecy because she's scared of screwing up." Robyn sighs.

CC looks over to his older sister, then back at us.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" He wonders aloud.

"I'd about say so." I nod.

Bianca

"Ready up!!" The hooker yells as two of the props throw me for the line out.

It's just practice, Jamie is thrown for the opposing line out, just to create a game scene. As weird as it sounds, the first prop grips my knees and the second cups my ass, they lift me with ease as I catch the ball. I throw it at Jamie's face after we land.

"Asshole!" She calls.

We both play locks, since number correlate with positions, I'm number four and she's number five. We both wear red and black stripped jerseys with a lion on the breast. We sport matching red shorts, knee high black socks, and our cleats. Our hair is braided so broads can't grab a hold of it and throw us for yards.

That uncomfortable feeling has made itself known again. My insides go cold and tie themselves into knots the navy would be proud of. My fear is always a forced to be reckoned with. I'm scared of failing more than everything. 

"Alright ladies, let's throw you up one more time." The hook yells.

We bend our knees and the props latch on.

"It's going to you again, Bianca." She yells. "Ready up!"

We go up and I catch the ball but see my family walking through. My boyfriend and the rest of the band, my siblings, and niece take seats at in the first row. My blood freezes and those knots get tighter, squeezing every breath from my lungs, making me want to run away. The fear of failing in front of the people o care about is a million times worse.