Sassy Britches and Frosty Bitches

A/N So, I welcome you to the revised edition of Cut The Curtains. I hope you all enjoy, because I’ll be tweaking and adding bits as I go along! There will be a new chapter or two posted each day!

Revised: September 22, 2009.

A/N So, this is the re-write of this story. I realized that I wasn't really paying attention to what I was writing and that it was confusing and didn't make sense half the time. So, here's the amazingly slightly longer re-write. I'm sorry to my readers, I didn't finish the story, because the new ending wouldn't make sense with the old story.

“You're a real frosty bitch; did you know that?” I asked Alex with a slight turn of my head. Alex's blonde head bobbed up and down.

“Ye-huh,” she mumbled, leaning on her hand. She looked more bored than Perry, our older borther, did at a Britney Spears concery.

“You and Jenny still at it, huh?”

“Ye-huh.”

“She screw up again?”

“Ye-huh.”

“You know, it's not that hard to talk to me. You should try it sometime,” I said to her, turning completely to face her.

To be honest, I really did love my sister; no matter how much of a frosty bitch she could be. Although we looked different, we still thought very much alike.

“Yes, Kate, I'm a frosty bitch and Jenny is in the upstairs closet fucking my ex,” she said, a hint of amusement touching her ocean blue eyes.

“You should tell her to get checked; you don't know what he's been touching.”

“We never had sex, okay? We barely got anywhere when Dayne cheated on me. We hadn't even come out to anyone but Jenny.”

“I really don't see why you're her friend. I mean, she's a total whore. And a wicked, evil and manipulative bitch.”

“And I'm just frosty?” Alex asked, turning one of her charming smiles to me. I leaned against her shoulder.

“Exactly. I don't see how it took you this long to see.”

“Sassy britches,” she said with a snort of amusement and pushed me in the shoulder, forcing me off her.

“You know it,” I retorted, mimicking Perry when he said this.

Alex rolled her eyes and nodded her head to the music that blasted out of the surround sound stereo's hooked up to the large sound system that would have cost a fortune.

More than I have, I mused slightly then realized the lie that lay beneath that somewhat truth.

“Who is this?” I asked Alex, referring to the music that was pouring out of the speakers.

“Lost prophets, obviously”

“The ones that sing 'Rooftops'?” I asked in shock. 'Rooftops' was one of my favorite songs but I wasn't entirely sure who was the artist. I thought that maybe they were just an original one hit wonder. But after hearing this, I was ready to disagree.

“Yeah; this is 'Always All Ways: Apologies, Glances and Messed Up Chances',” Alex explained, staring out to the floor from the soft leather couch at the couples dancing slowly together. She looked rather on the blue side, I noted briefly.

Hopping up from the couch, I held out my outstretched hand towards Alex, “Let's dance then.”

“But it's a slow song,” Alex said with a shake of her head, as if it were the silliest thing to say.

“Yes, it is. Good of you for noting that, Alex. You look sad and I think a dance with your baby sister will make everything better.”

Alex giggled and took my hand, letting me drag her from the couch, “I doubt it but okay.”

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around my waist. I sighed and held her tightly against me, liking the feeling the silk of her shirt tickling against my bare arms. We were already attracting stares from other people, which I knew would spark gossip and wouldn't be good for Alex's reputation but, I really didn't care. She was my sister (no matter how frosty) and she needed someone. And, although a small part of me was telling me it was true, I wasn't sure whether she cared or not. She had a good four inches on me but still she rested her head against my own and swayed gently to the beat of the music. The music suddenly switched to 'Low' by Flo Rida and I parted from Alex but didn't move away. We started moving with each other, feeling the bass move through the floor to our bodies. We seemed to attract even more stares from nosy bystanders.

Contrary to popular belief, I can dance for longer than Alex can (although she is a better dancer, I managed to make a fool of myself just for her) and I seemed to tire her out by the end of the song and we had to move off the floor because Alex was starting to look a little blue. Literally.

Flopping onto the couch she let out a little sigh of relief and smiled at me.

“I see this party was a good idea.”

“As if. Sindy made me come so she could try to get a good word in with Jenny. I'm starting to think these people aren't my friends,” Alex said, scratching her heads as if confused. I knew she wasn't; Alex liked to do these things for fun.

“Well, then I think it's time for some new friends,” I said with a less than subtle flick of my hand to the people standing around in the house. I'm going to note that this wasn't our house. It was, in fact...well, I'm actually not that sure of who's house it was. I just now that someone with money. And lots of it.

“Coming from the anti-social queen herself?” Alex asked, amusement touching her smile.

“Shush. You really do need new friends though.”

“Ye-huh, and how do you figure this?”

“What's Jenny's middle name?”

“Uh...”

“Just as I thought. You need real friends. Friends who are interested in what you're interested in.”

“Yeah, like who?” Alex asked skeptically.

“Well, since I can overrule Shawn Michaels right away; he's married and Mom's age, let's go with...him,” I said, pointing to a rather tall boy with his back turned to us.

“But...but...he's got...he's got...a nose ring?”

“Wha-?” I twisted my body around on the couch to look at this boy. He did have a nose ring. And tunnels. And was wearing black eyeliner.

“Oh, now he's perfect. What more could you want. Black hair, nose ring, liner and black clothes. He's so your type.”

“Kate, I really don't think-”

“Good, thinking isn't really important when making friends,” I said matter-of-factly, standing from the couch a smooth Alex's black and white striped sweater dress over my hips and adjusted the black leggings.

“Now, let's go meet this nose ringed boy.”

“Kate, I really don't think-”

“Again, thinking? Not so important,” I smiled and tugged her up from the couch and all but dragged her to the corner of the room where the boy stood alone.

I pulled Alex to stand in front of him and I noted he was rather tall. Around six foot three, maybe four, but I doubted that. His black hair fell into his face and covered one shockingly blue eye that you would expect to be green. Those shockingly blue eyes looked slightly shocked and then he smoothly raised one black eyebrow.

“Hi, I'm Kate. This is my sister Alex,” I pointed to Alex, who just glared at me, “and you may know her as one of the perkiest girls in school. That would be bullshit. Her favorite band's Papa Roach, she can recite the lyrics perfectly to all their songs, quiz her if you feel the need to. Her favorite color's royal blue, she's 132 pounds and eats like a horse when it comes to cheesecake,” Alex blushed a rather pretty shade of crimson but I still continued, “she's seventeen and turns eighteen next year and she's been to three Papa Roach concerts, two Bullet For My Valentine concerts and is planning to go to a Silverstein concert next month.”

Emo-boy-with-silver-nose-ring-and-liner (I made a mental note to make a better nickname, seeing that mine were rather long) nodded and replied in a deep sexy voice, “Travis.” He added a nod to indicate that was his name.

I clapped my hands together once and turned to Alex, “Okay, so enjoy yourself and I'll be over there. And you are going to be here. Also, we got to be back by midnight. And no, not because she turns into a maid, Smackdown is on and I'll kill you if we miss it.” I turned on my heel and stalked away, turning behind and corner then peeking around it to watch them.

Alex hugged her arms, looking at the floor then looked up and mumbled something. Travis laughed and shook his head replying. I guessed it wasn't rude because Alex giggled and extended her hand. Letting out a breath of relief, I backed against the wall and leaned against it.

At least one of us was meeting someone.

And who's fault would that be? The small voice in the back of my head asked me. I groaned inwardly, hoping it would hear it loud and clear.

Yes, I have a voice in the back of my head that likes to drop in now and then to criticize my life and what's going around in it.

No, I'm not a psychotic nutcase, it's more like my conscience, stretching its line of duty. A wondrous line of duty.

Screw off. At least I have limbs.

It snickered, Yes, but can you drop in any time, say next weeks algebra test and start annoying you, say with 'Don't Call Me Baby'?

Fine, but can you go away for awhile? I officially give you a mental haelth day.

I'm the one that needs a mental health day?

“ I see you have one of them, too.”

My head snapped to the left and saw a tall emo boy with black tinted blue hair and black snakebites holding a red plastic Dixie cup in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

“One of what?” I asked raising my left eyebrow, a thing I'd mastered over the past month.

“A voice in the back of your head. Mine is bloody annoying and doesn't stop talking about music. His name's Jimmy,” the boy said with a wink and took a drag of his cigarette.

“Mine's named...Lucifer.”

“Really?” he asked skeptically, smiling a drop-dead-gorgeous smile.

“No,” I smiled back with a shake of my head, tossing my curly dark brown hair.

“What's her name?”

“Oh, and you just assume she's a girl?” I said, then realized the give away. “Awh, fack my life.”

“I'm good, so no thanks,” he said, crushing the butt of his cigarette into a clear ashtray, “But, I assumed she was a girl because, well, you're a girl. And Jimmy's a boy. And I'm a boy.”

“How can I be sure of that?” I asked sheepishly.

“Well...” he set down his drink and started pulling on the buckle of his belt, “if you really want to know...”

“'I'm good, so no thanks',” I mimicked, setting my hand on his arm, stopping him from stripping. And part of me thought he actually might have.

He stopped and picked up his drink again, “Thought so. I'm Lee by the way. Lee Carter.”

“Kate MacKenzie,” I said with a nod of my head.

“So you are Alexis' sister.”

“Oh, God. Don't say Alexis. It's one of the stupidest pet names. Jenny, being the stupid girl she is, started calling her that after I'd said the was 'Alex's phone'. Took my mistake and started calling her that.”

“Alex reminds me of a boy, though.”

“And she looks like one when no one's around. Especially in baggy jeans.”

Lee craned his neck around the corner to get a good look at Alex. A skeptical look appeared on his face, “Is she talking to Travis?”

“Yeah.”

“She's actually talking to Travis Locklear?”

I turned my head and nodded, “Looks like it.”

Lee shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the wall, “He's my cousin, eh? Oh, wait, it gets even better! If they got married, we'd be cousins!” he joked (I hope) and wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I hope not,” I replied sarcastically. Lee let my shoulders go and clutched a ring covered hand to his heart.

“That hurt right there, you know,” he whined, thumping his enclosed fist against his hand for emphasize.

“I bet it did, bud.”

“So, you just came with your sister?”

“Yeah, but she didn't really want to come. Sindy made her.”

“And she made you?”

“Basically. You come with anyone?” I asked, tugging at a strand of my hair. I did this when I was talking. Which is frequently.

“Came here to meet up with a friend. Brother is throwing the party. My other friends are...somewhere,” he grinned, looking around as if to find one. He didn't. “That sucks; they fucking left me!” he whined.

“Calm down,” I said with a giggle, “Who exactly owns the house?”

“Jason Rogue,” he muttered in disgust, his cheerful demeanor all but gone.

The name itself rang a bell in my head, “And Jason Rogue is...?”

“That bastard,” Lee said, pointing to a tall muscular blond boy who looked vaguely familiar.

“Hell, no,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I take it you know him?”

“He used to date Alex. Then broke her heart when she wouldn't sleep with him.” I realized that I was giving out information on Alex, and she probably would be pissed but I'd deal with that later.

“Yeah, he's a bloody cold bastard. But don't mistaken Trevor for that. On the contrary, Trevor's a, well...dumbass? Yes. Cold hearted bastard? Fuck, no.”

“Yeah, well...where is this Trevor, exactly?”

“Probably upstairs still. I'll just go get him and you can-” he was stopped abruptly by a slight scream.

“I'll be back in a moment, just go upstairs. Third door on the right; gold handle,”he explained quickly in a rush of words, some lost as he threw them over his shoulder as he walked away.

“But I...I..Goddamn,” I muttered, turning towards the stairs.

Well, technically, no. I got lost (twice) and had to get directions (twice) to the stairs. Yes, I got lost on my way to a set of stairs. I realize that I do suck; thanks for pointing that out.

When I finally did make it to the stairs, I turned when I was in the middle (luckily, no one was making out on the stairs. Really, in all the movies, TV shows and books I'd read, in every house party someone was making out on the stairs. Apparently, such things just didn't really happen in real life) and scanned the crowded living room. Teenagers, some slightly drunker than others, poured out from the kitchen, deck, backyard and vice versa. Most were dancing to the beat of Cassie's 'Me & U' pouring out at the highest possible volume. And the bass on full blast. I could feel the vibrations of the beat running through my body, making my fingers shake even if I held them still. Real exhilarating, I must tell you.

I trudged my way up the stairs, turning at the second door on the left.

Nope, bathroom that was bigger than my kitchen...

I rolled my eyes as I made my way to the third on the right. I could sure have selective hearing at times, I thought, knocking gently on the wooden door with golden hinges and a gold flat handle. Rich boy Trevor seemed to be...

“Hello?” I called out with another soft rap on the door. Hearing nothing but the blare of 'Scars' by Papa Roach (a song Alex had memorized at the tender age of thirteen) that made the door vibrate slightly. Shrugging I turned the handle and pushed lightly on the door. Bad idea.

At the exact moment I opened the door, Trevor opened the door on the other side of the door. Causing me to promptly stumble and callapse into his arms.

“Ye-hi,” I said, pushing myself from his arms. I looked down at the floor, feeling a flush creeping up my neck.

When I looked at the floor I noted two things: the floor was a beautiful polished dark oak and Trevor was tall. Well, that's what I was thinking anyways, I mean, I could only see his feet (which is were his legs stopped) but not above that (which is where those legs start). Yes, Trevor had drool worthy legs. Screw you, too.

And those legs were incased in a pair of straight cut black jeans. Expensive jeans, I noted. I raised my head slightly taking in his Metallica belt buckle attached to a white and black barcode belt to the silver and copper rings on his fingers to the black and blood red Bullet For My Valentine t-shirt to the silver chain that hung around his neck to the three lip rings on his lower mouth, two silver ones on the sides and a thick black one in the center to his handsome face.

Apparently, not only was Trevor rich, had fun friends and a dumbass for a brother, he was hot. I assessed him over three more times, taking in everything about him. He was the original tall, slightly thin but still muscular, dark, gorgeous emo boy.

Although, I really hate to use the term 'emo', I'm not exactly sure how to describe him. He was the object in which people named emo. It's true that I believe that everyone has an original style, his was 'emo'. And then some. Exceptionally sexy some.

I let out a little huff of hair, pushing loose strands of hair out of my face and said, “You are Trevor right?”

“Yeah, I'd be Trevor,” he mumbled, then tugged me by the shoulders up to him and lowered his mouth to mine.

Wait, what?

A/N Jilli's back!! Wootness...that's not a word, but I'm making it a word. So the re-write will have longer chapters (some will be up to seven thousand words) and a lot of things have changed.

For starters, for the people who don't know, Shawn Micheals (a.k.a. HBK, Heart Break Kid) is a wrestler. A smexy wrestler. :)

And, Friday Night Smackdown is well...wrestling. Yes, I've gotten into wrestling. I mean, who wouldn't want half naked guys with sexy, rippling abs rolling around with each other? Besides, of course, the lesbians. Well, they might change their minds. Also, on that note, Jeff Hardy is a sexy beast!

Now that I'm done my pointless rant about wrestling, what do you think about the new chapter? Seriously, I need feedback. And don't you fucking dare tell me to fucking spell check. I sometimes forget, okay? I really want to get a chapter up and I forget, okay?

Also, the names of the next stories are:

Curtain Call (Sam's story)

Burn the Curtains (Alex's story)

Tearing Curtains (Jack's story)

And, on the note of stories, tomorrow's my first PA Day of the school year and I'm going to try and get another chapter up and my new story up. Yes, when I got into wrestling, I got a new idea that will work.

I must go and watch re-runs of RAW now, so toodles!

Jillian.

P.S. For anyone who cares, I wrote this song to Papa Roach's 'To Be Loved', RAW's theme song.