C1 Kylian

-Kyle move, it's time! Your girlfriend is going to bust your balls if we're in trouble!

I finish putting on my shoes before joining Kevin, alias Rabbit. A nickname given to me many years ago, when I caught him having some pretty vigorous sex with his first girlfriend. He refuses to admit it, but he really fucks like a rabbit.

Well, at that time anyway. Thank goodness I haven't relived the nightmare of finding it in the middle of the wild since.

Nevertheless, this nickname will follow him all his life, it makes me laugh too much.

"The only time I allow her to touch my balls is when she gets down on her knees, old man," I replied, slapping her on the chest.

He laughs as he opens the door to our pad, while I quickly grab my biker jacket from the rack behind it before following him down the hallway to our dorm.

-And you think she's going to kneel tonight if you're stuck? You dream, she's been talking about this birthday party for weeks, she's gonna hate you for the next ten years if you dare show up late.

-If it's not her, it will be someone else, I retorted flatly with a shrug when we reached my car in the campus parking lot.

The girl Rabbit calls my "girlfriend" is Megane. A girl from my science class with whom I explore the human body rather well. In all its forms. But we are far from being together. In reality, from my point of view, to fully explore the human body, which undoubtedly offers a wide choice in this area, you need several models.

-The last time you banged another girl and she found out, you ate yourself a monumental slap in the middle of college, he says when I hit the road. Are you sure you want to take the risk of another cleaning scene in public? It was frankly not glorious.

Not really, no, but I just shrug my shoulders again. But while Kevin puffs on a joint while humming the tune that plays on the radio during the trip, I can't help but remember that umpteenth and tireless crisis of nerves of Mégane dating from less than a year ago. a month.

When she finally found out that I had made a little blonde freshman in the cafeteria bathroom, she totally freaked out. She made me a monster scene in the hallway of the university, in front of all my teammates from the rugby team and even some teachers. Who didn't even take the time to admire the whole show since, I know it and that's also why I don't really worry, my reputation as a runner is no longer a secret to anyone. Not even for Mégane, who nevertheless continues to play surprised every time I flirt with another.

Exclusivity? Very little for me.

Anyway, I guess I just need to be a little more discreet from now on. Although in my defence, even though I am absolutely not looking for an excuse and plead totally guilty, if this damn blonde hadn't hissed so loudly when she reached Nirvana, no one would have heard us and we would have avoided public scandal.

"I hear the whole women's swim team will be there," Rabbit tells me, handing me the cone.

I shoot it briefly before handing it back.

- What's the name of the blonde with the glasses? I asked him. I would gladly make her party too.

He sneers, simply shaking his head, a little jaded though used to it.

Blondes with glasses is a very old fantasy that dates back to when I was thirteen, when I watched my very first porn secretly, with him, and the actress, blonde and wearing glasses, played the role of a slightly frightened secretary. Since then, in each of my dirty dreams, the chick is blonde and a black frame slips over the tip of her nose every time I jerk, her pretty buttocks pressed against me.

I would almost have the stick just thinking about it.

-You should dump Meg, your comedy has been going on for months, Rabbit suddenly blurts out, forcing me to squeeze out my torrid thoughts.

I take my eyes off the road for a second to arch an eyebrow in his direction, waiting for him to develop his bullshit.

He's probably already slightly stoned, that moron.

-We both know that you don't give a shit about her and her, she's damn attached to you, old man, he argues, taking the last drag from his joint. Dump it, you can hit all the one you want after. I mean...

He opens the window, spitting out his smoke, throws down his cone, closes the window and sighs, leaning back in the seat.

"Well, you know what I mean," he mutters, examining his cell phone before putting it back in his jeans pocket. Don't you think you've played with her enough? Maybe it's time to move on.

-With Meg it's easy, I add immediately. One text and five minutes later, she's on her knees. No way to drop it.

-You make her suffer Kyle! he suddenly loses his temper.

Startled by his sudden change in demeanor, I glance at him again. He glares at me for a moment, then looks away.

- Forget it, he stammers.

- What is this shit? I giggled, not sure I understood what was going on in his head right now. You, maybe you should stop the weed, you're less and less visibly successful.

"I'm fucking serious," he growls in a low voice. It's not cool, you treated her badly when she's a nice girl...

-A nice girl? You mean she's downright good yeah! You're stoned, that's all.

-No ! She's also nice, he insists in a strangely thin voice.

I leave the road again to examine him as he huffs in annoyance, curled up on himself. What I think I understand is surely not the truth, because it's impossible, but I still have to be clear about it.

-Do you like her?

-Shut up Kyle, he replies angrily.

-I dream ! I laughed as I parked in front of Mégane's. Why are you lecturing me all of a sudden, what's your problem?

He gives me a wry look, then gets out of the car.

- Jester, he spits before violently slamming the door.

I go out in my turn and follows him in long strides, slowly understanding that what I thought was impossible, seems not to be finally totally.

- By what right do you allow yourself to have views on my girlfriend? I shouted to him as I crossed the driveway of the house.

-Your girlfriend ? he repeats, laughing, stopping to face me. But you don't give a fuck about her Kyle!

- What are you playing here? I was starting to get annoyed. So that's it, we're stealing our girlfriends now?

-Stop, I'm not stealing anything. I'm just telling you that she deserves better. If you don't want her, then let her be good with someone else, she deserves it. She really is a good girl.

-Anyone else like you? I giggled, raising my eyebrows questioningly without him replying, only averting his faulty gaze away from me. Stop dreaming Rabbit, she doesn't give a fuck about you.

-You believe that ?

In a smirk that pleases me moderately, he braves the few meters that separated us to plant himself in front of me without taking his eyes off me.

-So why is it on my shoulder that she comes for comfort every time you play dumb? he swings at me, visibly proud of himself.

My blood instantly throbs as my heart pounding against my temples, unsettled by the wickedness suddenly emanating from him.

I take the last step that kept us from breathing each other's breath, without making him blink in the least.

- Did you hit it? I articulated the clenched jaw with, already, a bitter taste in the mouth.

-Fuck you Kyle.

He tries to escape in the direction of the entrance but I catch up with him before he has time to turn on his heels, forbidding him to end this conversation without him giving me an answer. . The truth. Whether I like it or not, there's no way he's hiding it from me. In fact, his frankness counts more than the answer itself.

I grab the collar of his polo shirt in my fist, still without an eyelash as I slobber inside.

"Answer me," I demanded. Did you fuck him, yes or no?

He hesitates, his brown gaze inked on mine, then surrenders to the evidence; I certainly wouldn't let go.

-Ok, yes, I slept with her, he admits, a fake guilty look on his face. But seriously, what the fuck are you doing, Kyle? You get a different girl every week and we both know very well that she's there just to pass the time, so what difference does it really make?

Without thinking, my fist lands on his jaw.

Oddly enough, it doesn't hurt me as badly as it seems to have been cheated on. It's not much after all. I don't feel all that shit that people talk about; the feeling of betrayal, of shame, of wanting to cry out all the tears in his body. Surely because he's right, Mégane doesn't matter to me and I don't give a damn about her, she's totally indifferent.

-You bastard, I spat, still sending him a second shot.

Whatever thinking about it, the feeling of betrayal, I do feel it. But generated only by his, and not by that of my pseudo-girlfriend.

-By what right ? I yelled pushing him back with all my might.

Damn, betrayal, in fact, it hurts like hell.

I watch him stumble, crushing a few flowerbeds, then straighten up after his fall cushioned by the grass. His gaze, which one might think was sincerely sorry, is fixed on mine again, enraged.

Coming from him, from my best friend, the one I've considered my brother for fourteen years, really, it's hard to take. He preferred to take the risk of breaking our friendship than give up having a shot with the same girl I'm getting. It's really sad.

-You know what Kyle? Hit if it relieves you, I don't care... he advances again, arms wide open to encourage me.

Without being asked, I knock. He doesn't even flinch when his lip bursts under the force of my blow. He staggers slightly on himself, then replants his pupils in mine, dilated.

He's losing patience, I see it.

-It's good, do you feel better there? he growls, wiping the blood from his chin.

Absolutely not.

I jump on him again, carried away by the pain and the rage generated by his disloyalty. He knows it, however, that in this world, he is the only one in whom I had complete confidence.

I give him a final blow much more brutal, through which he will be able to feel my disappointment much more than my anger. He falls out of it, his arcade open. When he looks up, his gaze is empty, devoid of the slightest anger.

I don't understand it, he doesn't even seem to want to reply. Except that I do. My anger is appeased but my disappointment, still not, and it's still too painful for me to restrain myself from externalizing it. I throw myself on him without pity, grabbing him by the collar of his stained white polo shirt, clearly screwed up, raising him in front of me. I shake him nervously, my body burning with too much emotion.

-You don't give a damn about her... he repeats simply, his voice calm.

-And that gives you the right to stick your cock in what belongs to me?

- What belongs to you? he shouts, pushing my grip away from his collar, without me complaining. Are you serious? She's a Kyle girl, not a doll without feelings! Aren't you tired of constantly making the same mistakes? You have to stop with all his bullshit, he's had enough!

I gulped, lost between the stark reality he's exposing me as if slapping me in the face, and the thought of having to admit it to myself.

- Forget it, I don't even want to talk to you anymore, I whispered sheepishly, walking away.

-Come on man, stop... She's not even your real girlfriend, he tries to convince me, driving me mad.

He's trying to do penance and, I know, he's not my girlfriend. At least, I don't see it as such. I advocate him loud and clear every time I get the chance, but he's my best friend. My fucking brother. And that, despite everything I put her through, is something I could never have done to her. Real girlfriend or not.

In response, I send him a punch while still trying to evacuate this pain deep inside me, but he manages to deflect my strike and this time, he responds with violence. I blame his blow just as violently as he took the lies. The impact makes me fall in my turn, falling on my elbow which emits a not very reassuring crack.