And We Were Us.....

Five

Tessa's POV
There's a moment before show where you feel like this moment could potentially be the last you ever get. The lights seem terribly bright, and the hushed whispers of the crowd are more like screams. If you mess up, it could break you, it could end you, it could end your career. You can fuck up within a matter of seconds, and how the routine ends is all up to you and whether you can to compete or not.

I guess that my competitive side is why I was so attracted to Dustin and his weird lifestyle. His focus when he got on a bull or on a bronco was intense, like my focus at rehearsal and during a show. He seemed completely at ease, completely in control of his fate, like it was just like any other day. His competitive side was hungry, and it consumed him so much that nothing could pull him away from the ride. 

This meant our relationship was constantly a competition, and we were always trying to one up eachother. If Dustin won an award, I'd win three. If I was nominated for something, Dustin would be nominated for something better. I had an A- in one class? Dustin had an A+ in six. Nothing stopped the competition inside him.

Not even when it meant that he would lose me, or his brother.

So now, as I stand outside the house I once considered a second home, I'm almost certain I'll throw up. My hand hovers over the doorbell, and my pulse starts to race. My palms sweat, and my heart is in my throat. I swallow bile, and push the button that sounds the bells of my doom.

No one answers.

'WHAT AM I DOING?! I can't do this,' I think to myself, and I turn to run. I don't get very far, because what do ya know! A sweaty, shirtless Dustin gets in my way. He smiles at me nervously, and it takes all I have not to punch his stupid face for not letting me get away. Instead of making a fool of myself, I cross my arms over my chest and try my hardest not to let him know how much this dinner is going to kill me on the inside.

"You look good, Tess," Dustin says, nodding at me.

"It's Tessa," I correct, glancing sideways towards the stables. I wonder if Edith kept Demon, Carter's horse.

"Right. Tessa," he says, his smile receding, and the light leaving his eyes. Good, now he knows where we stand.

"We should probably get inside," I say, forgetting Demon, and returning my focus to why I came here. "Your mom probably has dinner done by now."

"Yeah," Dustin says, rubbing his hands on his pants. Small talk was never Dustin's strong suit, and that makes this twelve times more awkward than it should be.

He moves close to me, and I jump backwards, before realizing that he was just reaching to open the door. I breathe a sigh of relief, only to find Dustin staring at me with the same pained look that I had stared at him with a year ago. But as quickly as the emotions cross his face, they disappear even faster.

I turn and walk inside the house. At the door, I slip my shoes off on the flowery pink and blue welcome mat that the boys painted Edith so many years ago, and watch Dustin do the same, awkwardly tiptoeing past me while I mine in an old cubby the boys' dad made for us when we were kids.

Just another reminder that makes my stomach queasy knowing nothing is the same.

Edith is a small, feisty 76 year old woman with pixie cut brown hair peppered with gray , and a knack for making anything taste like you died and went to heaven after eating it. And she's loud. Very, very loud.

"OH MY GOODNESS, TESSA, YOU'VE CHANGED SINCE I'VE LAST SEEN YOU! GIVE ME A HUG, BABY!!" Edith says when she lays her eyes on me. She wraps me in a hug that almost crushes my bones, and Dustin swallows a laugh when I try to breathe for air. I scowl at him before Edith let's me go.