The losers

"R-Richie, stop."

Bills POV

The next day when I showed up at school, Richie put his arm around my shoulder. Nobody questioned it, but I still got embarrassed.

The whole day he had his arm around me, him hand on mine, or made our legs touch under the table. It was sweet, it really was. I just don't understand, he breaks down crying about being gay one day, then turns the PDA up 20% the next day. Did he want people to know he was gay or not?

I just played along, after all I really liked him.

It was english class with Mrs. Flowit, she was a nice, old lady. Richie leaned over and whispered "do you wanna get out of here? let's go to the toilets." and before I could answer, he had got up and dragged me after him.

Mrs. Flowit didn't seem to mind. Richie dragged me into a stall. He pushed me against the wall, then he leaned in.

His lips were so soft, and they melted into mine. He tasted like diet coke and gum, weird mix but he made it work. I let his tongue into my mouth, it felt as if sparks were fired of inside me. He had his hands on my waist, I let mine play with the hair in his neck. The kisses turned more and more intense.

I pulled away to breathe, "are y-you okay?" I asked, not knowing were I was going with this. "D-did something h-happen?" He looked at me and just sighed, "No. Nothing happened." He was clearly lying.

But I wasn't able to say anything more, it was hard talking with somebody else's tongue down your throat.

He moved his hands to my back, sliding them under my shirt. I grabbed his right wrist, and tried to make him stop. When I pulled away he followed, until I couldn't back away more. I tried turning my head, what made me able to speak for a few seconds "R-Richie, stop."

He didn't stop.

He put his lip against mine, moving his hands up under the back of my shirt.

He was taller than me, and stronger. I was stuck. His lips didn't feel soft anymore. I felt sad, and weak. I just wanted him to let me go, I wanted to go home and cry in my pillow. But I was still standing there, trying to push him away. I tried imagining being in my room, watching movies, alone.

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I tried to push him away. He was much stronger than me. And I couldn't scream for help. I couldn't do anything at all.

I needed air. Things started to get blurry, I turned my head as good as I could, "R-Richie, stop. A-air, I h-have to b-breathe." He stopped. I could catch my breath. He saw the tears rolling from my eyes.