The Truth Hurts

30 │infinite

Standing in front of the television, Casey aggressively swings the motion sensored remote as she poorly mocks the pink figure twirling around in the Just Dance video game. She's wearing a yellow tank top with tight black sweats. She throws another punch, her loose ponytail swaying wildly in the air.

The dancer thrusts her knee upwards before spinning around at a 180 degree angle. Casey kicks her leg forward, nearly hitting the television. She turns around to face Peyton, who stares at her from the entrance of the kitchen as she munches on a Pop-Tart.

Peyton, looking at her like she's crazy, walks forward into the living room. Crumbs fall out of her mouth with each muffled word. "Umm, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" Casey wipes at the sweat on her forehead before swinging her arm forward, missing the move. Her game score is surprisingly good, considering how awfully she is following the dancer's instruction.

"Looks like you're training to become the next Charlie's Angel." Peyton takes another bite from her Pop-Tart.

Laughing, Casey drops the remote to her side, as well as her attitude, and glances over at her sister. She taps a button on the controller with her finger, pausing the game. "Sorry."

"It's cool." Peyton smiles, jumping onto the couch as she kicks her feet up on the ottoman. Her Grumpy Cat pajamas lift up—her mismatched, neon striped socks capable of drawing more attention than a train wreck. "Hey, shouldn't you be at practice?"

"I'm not going."

"You didn't go yesterday either."

Casey rolls her eyes as she plops down on the couch next to Peyton, letting her arms fall limply to her sides. "And I'm not going tomorrow. Or the next day."

Concerned, Peyton sets her Pop-Tart down on the coffee table and turns to face Casey. "Okay. What happened?"

"Nothing." Casey, not the best actress, fakes a smirk.

Peyton props her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her head against her open palm, cocking an eyebrow as she stares her down.

"Just got into a bit of a... uhh... altercation." Casey shrugs as she reaches over to rip a small piece off of what was left of the Pop-Tart. "Not a big deal."

"Well, I'm sure the skank deserved it."

Casey gasps. "Hey, language!"

Peyton glances over to the side. "Sorry, geez. So what happened?"

"Don't worry 'bout it." Casey takes a bite of the Pop-Tart before getting back up. She walks back over to the television, grabbing the controller from on top the gaming console, and turns around to hand it to Peyton. "Up for a good butt-whoopin'?"

"Ohh." Peyton lets out an evil snicker. "Bring it, sister."

Casey clicks buttons on the controller, loading up the multiplayer on the game as she glances up at the screen.

The doorbell suddenly rings. A distorted, black shadow casts through the thick sheet of stained glass centered in the middle of the front door.

"I'll get it." She turns to Peyton, handing her the remote. "Go ahead and set up the game."

Peyton nods as Casey turns around and makes her way to the door. She grabs the door knob, pulling it open to find Riley standing on the porch. She pushes open the screen door and the two kiss at the doorway.

"Hey." She says, her lips still brushing against his. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey. Just thought I'd drop by and check up on my lovely girlfriend." He smiles as they pull apart. He reaches down to grab her hand and notices her bruised knuckles immediately. "What happened?"