My Other Half (Rickian)

Guinea Pig

An hour later I was driving home with a girl I barely knew in the passenger's. The boys had made an excuse of something they had to do so I could be alone with her. I kind of wished they hadn't. She kept running her hands up my thigh.

"I'm going to make you so happy." She whispered. I could suck it up. After all, it had been a long time since I'd had a girl over and the last thing I wanted was the guys to figure out I was gay before I came out. Besides, it's not like I found girls absolutely repulsive I would just much rather Kian.

As soon as we got through the door she had me pushed up against the wall, kissing me roughly. She pulled my shirt over my head only to continue kissing me. She was very dominate for how shy she'd been in the restaurant. I could hear music coming from upstairs. Slow depressing stuff. Poor Kian. I should be trying to make up with him not make out with her.

"What's wrong with you?" I snapped out of my thoughts. 

"What?" She had taken two steps back from me and stood there with her hands on her hips, rage glazed across her face.

"I said, what is wrong with you? At least kiss me back, you wanted me here!" She said, punching my chest angrily. I didn't feel like going through with it anymore or coming up with an elaborate lie so I told her the truth.

"I'm gay." She scoffed at me.

"You're joking? Why the fuck did you bring me home then?" She shouted, slapping her hands to her thighs in frustration.

"Because I wasn't sure and I guess I needed to double check. Look, I'm sorr-" She punched me across the face so hard I felt tears ball up in the corners of my eyes. I thought girls were supposed to slap?

"I'm not a fucking guinea pig you faggot." She grabbed her shirt off the floor and stomped toward the door.

"Don't you need a drive?"

"I'll catch a cab." She roared, slamming the door shut. I sighed and slunk down the wall. What had my life come to?

"You okay?" I jumped at the sudden voice but calmed down when I seen it was just Kian poking his head around the kitchen door frame. Then I realized if he'd been in the kitchen the entire time he'd heard everything which was even worse than a murderer being in our house.

"Look, I can explain-"

"That doesn't answer my question. Are you okay?" He asked again, touching my cheek. I winced and strained my face out of his reach. "Come on, I'll get you an ice pack."