As Willow sat on her bed, watching the movie resentfully, she did not love it. Not at all.
“You don’t seem like you’re enjoying the movie,” Scott remarked.
“I told you I didn’t want to watch it. My mom is the one who thought this was a good idea; maybe you should go watch the movie with her.”
“Why are you being like this?” he responded, scowling.
Willow’s eyes went wide and she stared at him for a second. “Are you serious?”
He sighed, raking a hand through his chestnut hair. “Okay, forget it. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
Since apparently the thing to do after a not-quite-fight and failed at-home-date was to make out, Scott went for it. It was brave enough that she let it go, plus she figured if she kissed him for a few minutes he might be satisfied and he’d go home.
For a moment, the thought pained her; before she was taken, she had liked Scott. A lot. Getting a text or a call from him had elicited a girly smile; she enjoyed running her fingers through his hair while they kissed, and she would have loved to curl up in her bed and watch a movie while cuddling with him.
She didn’t know why she seemed to resent him so much; he hadn’t done anything.
Of course, realizing how little control she still had over her emotions did not put her in the mood for kissing, so when his hand slipped between her legs without any encouragement on her end, she clenched her legs together in hopes that he would get the message.
He didn’t.
And she was wearing a fucking dress.
So while she waited for him to realize she was saying no and pull back, he plodded on ahead, somehow ignorant of the meaning of her leg clenching, until his finger slipped up under her underwear.
“Stop it,” she finally murmured, feeling slightly pissed off that he wasn’t taking her nonverbal cues.
Whether he didn’t hear her or for some reason just didn’t take her seriously, he did not stop. His stupid mouth was on her neck and his finger clumsily attempted to push inside of her. Once she felt the intrusion, she shoved him away with considerable force.
He caught himself, scowling at her as if in confusion. “What?”
“What the hell is wrong with you? I said stop!”
Looking all put out, Scott said, "What?"
"I told you to stop."
"I wasn't doing anything!"
Willow rolled her eyes and climbed off the bed, not even wanting to be near him.
"Willow, what's going on with you? Ever since you've been back, you've been...so different."
"Yeah, well, I wasn't on a fucking Caribbean cruise, now, was I?"
She heard the bed creak behind her, indicating he had climbed off the bed as well, and she tensed in anticipation of him being stupid enough to try to touch her.
"You said you were fine."
He was right, she did say that, all the time; since she had returned home, it was basically her mantra.
And he didn't see through it. Even though it probably wasn't fair, she resented him for that.
"I think you should go home," she said, fiddling with the bottles of nail polish lined up on her dresser instead of looking at him.
"You don't even want to hang out now?"