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Avery liked to party. She liked to live life to the fullest. Shelovedto make me worry.
The creak of the front door snapped me out of my thoughts. My sister, smiling like an idiot, waltzed through the door without a care. Seeing Avery brought a wave of relief, quickly replaced by a surge of anger. “Where have you been?” I demanded, my voice filled with tension.
A mix of chill and excitement colored her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “It was wild,” she said, waving her arms and making her old plaid shirt lift up. “A bull broke loose and turned the arena upside down!”
I felt my anger spike again. “I know, Avery, I was there!” I shot back.
Her eyes widened. “You were there?!”
“Yes. I found thedamnflier in your room and showed up. Was looking for you when thedamnbull got loose. It was fucking terrifying—”
She grinned. “It wassomuch fun!”
“Are you insane? You could have been hurt!”
She rolled her eyes, typical Avery. “I’m not a kid, Clover. I can handle myself.” I quickly looked her up and down, checking for injuries. Her worn boots looked like they had taken a beating and needed to be replaced. But Avery had a stubborn attitude. When she loved something, she refused to let it go.
“That’s not the point!” I was practically yelling now. “Why’d you even go there? You know how I feel about rodeos. When I found that flier, my heart dropped.”
Avery didn’t back down; her eyes flared with defiance. “I wanted to ride. I’ve been pestering the Dust Devils for weeks. But why were you snooping around?! You could have messed up my chance.”
Anger simmered inside me, ready to boil over. “Oh, wouldn’t that be a shame,” I spat out, sarcasm dripping from every word.
She glared at me, but it didn’t douse my anger. “Seriously? I’m fully capable of making my own fucking decisions.”
I felt my nostrils flare up. “Obviously not if you’re hanging out at the Dust Devils’ rodeo. This isn’t a game, Avery. They’re legitimate criminals.”
She rolled her eyes. “Come on. The Devils aren’tthatbad. They gave Dad his start, and he got sponsors almost immediately!”
The mention of our father made me sick. “Dad always said the Devils were dangerous, Avery.”
She shook her head in annoyance. “I’m not going to join their fucking gang, Clover. I’m just riding at their rodeo.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And where were you after it got shut down? Your text said you were heading home!”
Her comeback was quick, just as heated as mine. “I was bummed about missing my ride. I went out with friends. It’s not that big of a deal. I still can’t believe you showed up. Why did you?”
I couldn’t believe she had the guts to ask. “Seriously, Avery? I was there for you,” I snapped, “even though I hate everything the rodeo stands for.” Anger reflected in both our eyes as I took a step closer and pointed at her. “But you wouldn’t get it. All you care about is the rush, not the people who care about you.”
I couldn’t help but notice the stark differences between us as we fought. Avery’s soft and delicate face looked nothing like mine. Her pale hair, always practical for work, in a bun. Mine was a cascade of light brown waves. She lived in her tough denim and plaid shirts, while I preferred pink, rhinestone tops, and vibrant scarves.
“That’s not fair, Clover,” she countered, her voice echoing around us. She was full of fire, but I was used to it.
“Am I supposed to watch you ‘follow your dreams,’ Avery?” I mocked. “Is that what you call risking your life?”
“I’m careful!” Avery stood her ground, her resolve shining in her eyes. “I need to test my limits. No one, not even you, can stop me. The Devils are the only ones who give women a chance. Everyone else just laughs at me.”
The tension between us was thick, her words hanging in the air. She was right, in a way. I knew my fears shouldn’t control her, but the thought of her dancing with the devils made my stomach churn.
“Dad died riding a bull,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Avery’s tough shell softened, her rough and calloused hand reaching for mine. “I promise I’ll be careful, Clover. But I want to do this. I need to do this.”
The distinct contrast between us never felt more apparent. Avery, with her adventurous spirit and audacious dreams, worried me. She thrived on chaos, took risks, and laughed in the face of danger. On the other hand, I was the calm after her storm, always trying to pick up the pieces left in her wake.
This was our life—Avery, chasing thrill and adventure, and me, constantly trailing behind, the fear for her safety an ever-present shadow. This was our dance, a turbulent mix of worry, anger, love, and an unhealthy dose of frustration.
“I just worry about you, okay?” I finally choked out.
