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A Willow In Summer

A Willow In Summer

by gentlytwisted
19 min read
3.93 (46600 views)
adultfiction

Hi Guys

Thought I'd write a new story that I've been formulating for a change, rather than continuing my other series. I hope you enjoy! Just for reference, I used my own experiences with Asperger Syndrome as a basis for the backstory of the autistic character in this story, Willow.

Cheers

GT

--- --- ---

Wet, shivering and covered only by a towel, Willow sat hunched on the lid of the toilet, desperately trying not to cry. She was hiding in this stall in the Girls' changing room, hoping to God that nobody would notice how long she had been in there. She got plenty of shit from the other girls as it was, without them thinking she had an upset stomach.

The reason for her being in here was very simple; her clothes had been stolen.

Willow hated having field hockey practice on Friday afternoons, because it always meant she would have to rush into the changing rooms, shower quickly, get dressed and rush out to catch the 17:20 bus home. Missing it would mean an hour-long wait for the next one. Which would really fuck up her routine.

And to make matters worse, it made her more susceptible to bullies.

Willow had always been very disadvantaged with her looks; she was slightly overweight, her reddish hair was quite messy and straggly, her clothes were quite plain and baggy, and her large eyeglasses made her look like a bit of a nerd. As such, she had always been a victim of bullying.

Most of it was verbal -- she had been called every variation of every insult for fat people under the sun. She had been the "pig" that guys sometimes pulled whenever they wanted to play "pull a pig," and had been branded with the nickname "Four-eyes" from the moment she had first set foot in this school five years ago, when she was a mere 13-years old. And recently, there had been rumours spread about her being a lesbian, or at least of her trying to kiss some of her fellow girls.

There was, however, also some crueller, more targeted forms of bullying as well; she was marginally on the Autism Spectrum, and had been diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome at the age of 16. This meant that the other students now knew how to hurt her in such a way that would affect her greatly, but make it much harder for her to explain what was going on to the other teachers. These included making annoying or strange noises whenever she was around, breaking into her locker and messing up the neat, organised stacks of books that she kept there, hiding her bag whenever she made the mistake of leaving it somewhere, and sometimes such simple things as crowding her and talking all at once to make her confused and disorientated.

To someone who didn't have the condition, these would be so easy to explain away -- "We were just talking to her... It's just a noise..." -- but to someone who does, it can fuck with your mind.

Needless to say, being at this school longer than she needed to was not an option for her, and she absolutely had to return home and disappear into the internet... her video games... her TV... frankly, any of the hangouts she liked to disappear to whenever she wanted to escape the bullies. Plus which, she hated having her routine thrown off. So much so that she would have a mini-meltdown if she did.

That was why, when she stepped out of the shower, returned to the locker where she kept her clothes and found it empty, she had practically almost had one there in the middle of the girls' changing room. The only reason she hadn't was that she had known that someone would probably film it, or would take her towel from her as well and possibly humiliate her even more. She had learned that the hard way.

To make matters worse, she already knew who likely stole her clothes.

Rosie Summers.

Rosie was another girl in Willow's class, and was everything she was not. She was popular, had many great friends and dated all the best-looking guys in the school. She was captain of the Girls' football team, where she played Defender. And she was one of the best-looking girls in the school; long legs, muscular, athletic build, long, silky blonde hair and olive skin. Academically, she wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, but she was still very good at the subjects she excelled at, French and Spanish, and certainly defied the stereotypes of girls of her looks. She was always accompanied by two friends, Becca and Cassie. And it would be unnecessary to go into detail about the kinds of people that they were, because frankly, it could have been taken right out of the classic Lindsay Lohan flick "Mean Girls."

Rosie, as it happens, was also one of the main bullies who liked to pick on Willow.

Ever since her first day, Rosie had picked on her. She was one of the first to figure out how to target the Asperger-specific traits that would make her melt down. But she was also very strange in the fact that most of her insults towards her were oriented towards sex: how no guy would want her, how she was a virgin and always would be, things like that. She would call her a prude who dressed in granny clothes, and wonder aloud whether she had any boobs at all, or if it was just impossible to tell because of the bagginess of her clothes.

She hadn't confined herself to just the verbal insults either -- on occasion, she liked to slap her ass quite hard, and run away, laughing. Sometimes, she liked to trip her up, and then pull her to her feet again and dust her off as if she was a hero. On another occasion, she'd pushed her into one of the changing lockers, locked her in, and refused to let her out unless she said "I love you, Rosie" five times. And, most recently, she'd drawn a heart on one of her textbooks, underneath which were the words:

<3

Love you lots, 4-eyes!

R

Xxxxxxx

This clothes-stealing stunt had never happened before, though. For some reason, most of the girls seemed to stop short of doing it, as it could potentially be grounds for a very, very serious punishment. Trust Rosie to be the one to go over that line.

With no clothes, still wet and covered only by a towel, and the changing room still full of girls, Willow had darted into the nearest cubicle and shut the door. Beyond this, she wasn't sure what kind of a plan she had to escape. She had no other clothes, and her phone was in her other locker, at the other end of the school, so she couldn't phone her only friend, Christine, to come bring her some. Nor could she call her mother. She could alert a member of staff, but that would just create more problems than she needed right now. Plus which, would they really be all that sympathetic? They'd never really done anything about the bullying before.

The only thing she could think of was to wait until the coast was clear, head over to the Lost Property basket, which was almost always full, and find something to wear until she got to her locker. Then she could collect her phone and wallet, and just head home. She could figure out what to do about her lost clothes later.

The problem was that the girls were taking forever to get changed, and seemed to get bogged down in conversations about what they were going to do for the weekend. Most were talking about taking advantage of being 18 to go down to the pub and drink legally (Willow, whose birthday was the first in the entire year group, had been of legal UK drinking age for months already, but nobody had ever invited her to join them). She was used to hearing a lot of bitchiness, but the amount she was hearing -- and some of it was about her -- was shocking. Luckily, nobody seemed to be taking any notice of the stall that had been occupied for the best part of fifteen minutes now.

All Willow wanted to do now was cry. To have her meltdown in the privacy of this stall. She wanted to take out her frustration by banging on the walls, by howling and screaming, by throwing herself against the door. But she didn't want to draw any attention to herself, so it took all of her willpower to fight the urge. But still... Why had this happened to her? She went to church once a week. She gave money to homeless people and charity collectors every time she came across them. And she was always nice to people whenever she could. What had she done to deserve this? What kind of merciless God would allow this to happen?

The only solace she could get was that she only had two more months to go. Two more months in this hellhole. Then she could leave it all behind, go off to university and find herself.

After what seemed like hours to her -- although it was really only about twenty more minutes -- she heard the sounds of conversation and general noise of a crowded changing room start to fade. As the room grew quieter and quieter, Willow's hopes started to improve. Maybe she might come through this with at least some of her dignity intact. But that still seemed like a bit of a tall order.

Eventually, the room fell silent. It was almost certainly empty now. If she was going to make a break for the lost property basket, now was the time to do it.

Slowly, and quietly, Willow unlocked the door to her stall, and pushed the door open.

She found herself looking right into the eyes of the very last person she wanted to see at this moment.

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"Ah, hello there, Willow tree!" Rosie said, in a mockingly friendly tone. "So THAT'S where you've been hiding!"

Her face reddening, and the tears now streaming down her cheeks, Willow desperately attempted to retreat back into the stall. But Rosie was having none of it. Dropping the duffel bag she was carrying, she grabbed the door, and forced it open, pushing her way in.

"Oh no you don't," she snapped.

Now abandoning all attempts to hold it in, Willow just burst out crying. It would make no difference to what Rosie did to her, but if she didn't do it now, she felt like she was going to explode.

But what Rosie did next shocked her all the same.

She reached out with a surprisingly delicate hand, and took hold of Willow's chin, pushing her face up, so that they were making eye contact. With her thumb, she began to dry the tears away.

"Ssshhhh..." She whispered, in a very soft voice. "Wouldn't want anyone to hear us, would we?"

With her foot, she slid the duffel bag into the cubicle, and without even turning around, she pushed the door to the stall closed and latched it again.

"Here we are," she said. "Finally, some alone time. Just you and me. I've been dreaming of this moment for a long time." With a malicious smirk, she added "Don't worry. I slipped a tenner into the top pocket of the old Scottish guy who cleans up to put a "Do not Enter" sign on the door. We won't be bothered by any unwanted visitors!"

This almost brought a new fresh batch of tears to Willow's face, as her fear of what Rosie was about to do to her returned. But despite this, she could still sense something was different. Rosie hadn't called her "four eyes," nor had she thrown any insults at her yet. Then there was the almost tender way she had dried her eyes, and the softness of the way she had spoken to her.

Then Rosie reached out with both hands, towards her towel.

"What are you -- no!" Willow instinctively tried to slap them away. Rosie caught her by the wrists and pushed them up above her head. Holding them in place with one hand, Rosie reached down and took hold of the towel.

"I just wanna see what you've been hiding from me all these years!" She said, with a warm smile that only made Willow even more confused.

With that, she pulled the towel off, and let it drop to the floor. Now red in the face, Willow looked down, somewhat ashamed.

"Wow," Rosie breathed. "I have genuinely never seen a nicer set of tits than those before. Please tell me they're real!"

"They're real..." Willow muttered.

"Seriously, how could you keep them hidden away for so long? No, really? Why do you wear those stupid sweaters that just cover them up?"

"I... uh... I..."

"Can't speak?" Rosie finished, teasingly.

"Look... Rosie..." Willow was desperately trying to find the right words. "I'm flattered. But why are you doing this?"

Rosie almost burst out laughing.

"You seriously haven't worked it out, yet? I know you Aspies can't really pick up on things like subtle hints and clues, but I don't really know how much clearer I could've spelled it out for you!"

And, with little warning, Rosie pulled Willow close and kissed her. It was a long, lingering kiss with only a little tongue, far more tender than any of the aggressive snogs she had had previously with guys. And she followed it up by kissing and nuzzling at her neck, her arms wrapped tightly around her.

Then, just as suddenly, she released her from her grasp, and stepped back.

Willow just stared at her, her hand subconsciously going up to touch her lips. "You... you... kissed me?" She said.

"Yes."

"Wh-why?"

"Because I like you."

"You like me? As in, you LIKE me?"

"Yes."

"But I thought you liked boys!"

Rosie smiled. "Oh, I do. I certainly don't mind a nice cock every now and again. But truth be told, I much prefer girls!"

"But... me?"

"For the love of God, yes!" There was a hint of impatience in her voice. But it quickly softened by the bashful expression on Willow's face. She looked overwhelmed by this disclosure. So she reached into her duffel bag and rummaged around for a minute or so, eventually finding what she had been looking for.

Willow's clothes.

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"You get dressed," she said. "If my watch is correct, you've already missed your bus home. So you'll just have to catch a ride with me."

Despite her relief at seeing her clothes again, Willow still couldn't help but feel somewhat apprehensive.

"You... You'll take me home?" She asked.

"Yes," Rosie said. Then she took Willow by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes, ignoring the obvious discomfort this caused her (since she HATED eye contact). "Listen, you have a choice. If this has completely freaked you out, or you don't feel the same way, I'm really sorry. I'll take you home right now. And I promise I'll make sure no-one ever hurts you at this school again..." Her voice began to break. "Or... you could come home with me. My Mum's away on business, so the house will be empty. You can give me your answer when you're dressed."

With that, she turned, opened the stall, and stepped out.

Shaking, Willow began to dress. As she did so, her mind was racing. This was all very new for her. The mere fact that someone would develop feelings for her was alien enough a thought, but the fact that it was the bully who had made her life hell for so long was something else. And she just couldn't shake the feeling that this was another prank. An attempt to lead her into a trap.

But not just that, she was also finding it hard to work through her reaction to it on a sexual level. She had never thought of girls in a sexual way before, not because of the homophobia of some of the girls in the school, and certainly not because of her parents, who were actually the most tolerant people on the planet. But more because she hadn't ever considered being with a girl before. At the same time, she couldn't deny that she was at least a little intrigued. This was the best-looking girl in the school, and she wanted her. And when she really thought about it, with the benefit of hindsight, many of the signs had been there. The bum-slapping, the forced physical contact...

By the time she stepped out of the stall, fully dressed, to see Rosie staring expectantly back at her, she had made her decision.

"I think I wanna go home with you," she said, quietly.

---

The drive home started out being completely stiff and awkward between them. Even despite what they had just done, Willow felt a little strange being in the same car as the girl who, until just a few minutes ago, she had thought was a cruel, vindictive bully.

After about ten minutes of awkward silence, Rosie finally decided to break it.

"So... I think there's an elephant in the car with us, hoping we won't acknowledge him."

"Yes," Willow said, cautiously. "If you like me, as you've said, why have you been picking on me all these years?"

"I... I..." Rosie's embarrassment was now plain in her voice, even if she couldn't turn her face to look at Willow. "I don't know," she admitted. "You're right. I have. I've known that that's what I've been doing for months now. But why I was doing it? I dunno. Jealousy, I guess."

"Jealousy?" Willow echoed, in some surprise. "What on earth do you think I have that you don't?"

"A brain," Rosie began. "Warmth. The fact that you have put up with so much shit and never once given in to your anger. That sort of thing. I would kill to have your personal strength."

Willow could say nothing to this.

"And... And..." Rosie visibly bit her lip. "I guess that my preference for girls -- and you in particular -- scared me a little. I couldn't tell anyone. Not my friends. Not my mother. Nobody. I struggled for ages with it before I finally came to terms with it myself. Nobody else knows, other than you. And I really didn't know how to convey anything to you."

Then Willow remembered something. "That note..."

"Yes," Rosie replied. "I hoped you might, at least, read something into it. I called you "four-eyes" in that in case one of my friends saw me doing it. Then maybe she'd think it was a prank."

"Well, it felt that way," Willow said.

"I..." Rosie sounded like she was fighting back tears when she said this. "I'm sorry. Truly. I wish I was stronger. I wish I'd said something sooner."

"No!" Willow reached out and put a hand on her leg, squeezing her thigh. "It's fine. I forgive you. You were scared of what others would think of you. I know the feeling all too well."

"Thanks," Rosie said, with some relief.

They pulled up outside a very large, spacious house about ten minutes later. Rosie parked the car in one of the garages and killed the engine.

"Wow," Willow breathed. "This is quite something. This house!"

"Been in the family for years," Rosie said. "Costs a shit-ton to maintain, though!"

"Well, I think it's wonderful," Willow said.

"Just wait 'til you see my room!"

Less than a minute later, they were upstairs, and Willow was getting a good look at Rosie's bedroom. It was almost twice the size of her own, and quite well maintained, with eggshell walls, several well stacked bookshelves, a couple of posters of recent films and, most prominently, a small corner of the room with lots of little trinkets and knick-knacks on it. Seeing her looking at it, Rosie smiled.

"That's my memory wall," she told her. "I collect things whenever I go places or have experiences. Everything on there has a story!"

"Well, I look forward to hearing about them!" Willow said.

"Some other time, perhaps," Rosie said, taking Willow by the shoulders and turning her round to face her. She gazed intently into her eyes.

Willow's shy smile got her going immediately. She leant forward and kissed her, this time a little more hungrily than in the changing room. The lips parted and a soft, skilled tongue carefully pushed its way into her mouth. Willow returned the kiss with as much passion as she could muster, despite the fact that she had little to no experience with kissing, and especially not a girl.

Rosie's one hand went up and began to run its way through Willow's reddish, curly locks. She teased them into strands, and gently stroked the back of her head. Her other hand, meanwhile, rested on her shoulder. Then, pulling away for a moment, she reached down and began to carefully unbutton Willow's white top, slowly revealing the plain, bluish bra that she was wearing. She slipped it off, and, in one deft movement, reached behind her and unclipped the bra, which fell off immediately. Then she leaned in and started kissing her again. Willow made a move to do the same to her, but she grabbed her wrist, and shook her head.

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