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It was the third time he'd touched her leg, and his fingers felt like tiny little bugs creeping along her bare thigh. They left a trail of disgusting, sticky, slime on her skin, and the sensation made her stomach turn.
She wanted to slap his hand away, to scream at him to keep his filthy appendages to himself. But she couldn't do that. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and continued to eat her salad while the man sitting across from her continued to tell her his life story.
He'd been doing this since they sat down, and Buttercup had done nothing but nod her head and force herself to keep eating. Anything was better than engaging in a conversation with this idiot, and she really needed the food to try and settle her stomach. She knew this was a bad idea, she had known it from the moment her friends had suggested it.
"You can't just give up! It's been months! You can't just sit at home and mope around all the time."
"We're tired of your shit, Buttercup. We love you, but you're bringing everyone down."
"Butch is an idiot. I hate him, and I don't know why you're still hung up on him, but he's gone now. Maybe it's time for you to move on too."
Brick's words echoed in her head and her grip tightened on her fork. She had tried to move on, and now she was stuck listening to some sleazy asshole try to feel her up.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low and his eyes half lidded as he licked his lips.
"No," Buttercup replied, not even bothering to hide her annoyance.
"Awe, come on, babe. Don't be like that. You've been giving me the eye all night." He gave her a greasy smile and slid his hand higher up her leg, and that's when Buttercup finally had enough.
"Look, buddy. I'm not interested." She stood up and reached into her purse. "In fact, I'm done."
The man gaped at her. "But-but you haven't even finished your food."
"Oh, but I have."
She pulled a few dollars out of her wallet and dropped them onto the table, and without another word she turned and walked away. She didn't even make it ten steps before the man was calling out to her.
"Hey, wait! Babe, hold on."
She didn't stop, she just continued walking through the crowded restaurant. The place was packed, and people were everywhere. The tables were filled with patrons and there was a line at the hostess station, but Buttercup didn't care. She made a beeline for the exit, and she didn't even spare the man another glance.
"Wait!" He caught up to her, and grabbed her arm, spinning her around.
"Let go of me!" She tried to pull away, but he held on tight.
"Look, you've got the wrong idea. I'm a good guy, really. Come on, let me buy you a drink. Or maybe we can go back to my place? It's not far from here." He licked his lips and stared down at her chest.
"I said, let me go!"
"Is there a problem here?"
They both looked up at the sound of a deep, familiar voice, and Buttercup felt her heart begin to pound.
"Hey, you're the dude from the bar, right?" The man still holding her arm looked Butch over, his eyes narrowing.
"I am. Now, let her go."
"She's my date, I can do what I want."
"Like hell you can!" Buttercup pulled her arm free and stepped away from the man.
"Babe-"
"Don't call me that! You're a pig."
"What's going on?" a feminine voice called out, and Buttercup groaned inwardly as two young women appeared next to the man.
"Who is this?" the first girl, a thin brunette, asked, looking Buttercup over.
"No one," the man replied, trying to reach for Buttercup again.
"Hey, keep your hands to yourself!" Butch grabbed the man's arm, stopping him.
"Who the fuck are you? Get off me!" the man tried to pull his arm free, but Butch's grip was too strong.
"You're lucky I don't beat your ass," Butch growled, shoving the man backwards.
"What did you say to me?" the man sneered.
"I said you're a piece of shit, and if you touch her again, I'll make sure you never touch another woman."
"Hey, back off. You have no right to interfere. This is none of your business," the brunette snapped.
"Shut up, Stacy." The man gave Butch a shove. "Why don't you mind your own damn business?"
"Oh yeah? Is that right?"
"Yeah, that's right."
The two men faced off, the tension between them thick and heavy. Buttercup stood to the side, watching with growing anxiety as the situation quickly escalated. She glanced around, hoping to find a manager or someone else who could intervene, but no one seemed to be paying any attention to the scene that was unfolding.
"Come on, Stacy. Let's get out of here." The man's friend took the brunette by the arm and began to lead her away.
"Fine, let's go."
The two women walked away, leaving the man alone with Buttercup and Butch. The man glared at them, his jaw clenched, but when he saw that they weren't going to back down, he cursed and stormed off after his friends.
"Asshole," Buttercup muttered, shaking her head.
"Are you okay?" Butch asked, his voice full of concern.
"I'm fine," she said, her voice tight.
"Do you know that guy?"
"No, I don't know him."
Butch studied her for a moment, and she could see the wheels turning in his head. He was clearly trying to figure out what was going on, but she wasn't about to offer him any answers.
"Well, that was something, huh?"
Buttercup snorted. "Yeah, something."
"You, uh, you wanna get out of here?"
"Sure," she said, shrugging.
The truth was, she didn't know why she was agreeing to go anywhere with him. He was the last person she wanted to be around, but after the incident with the creep, she didn't really feel like being alone either.
"Cool, my car is out front. Come on, I'll give you a ride."
"I can walk," she protested, but he was already leading her outside.
"I don't mind."
"It's fine, I can walk. Really."
"It's dark, and I'm parked close. It's no trouble, I promise."
Buttercup hesitated for a moment, but in the end, she relented.
"Fine, but just this once."
Butch flashed her a smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
"Deal."
He led her to his car, a black Jeep, and opened the passenger door for her. She climbed in, and he shut the door behind her.
"Where to?"
"Um, my apartment, I guess."
"Okay."
He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. As they drove, the silence between them was deafening. Buttercup stared out the window, lost in thought.
"So, that was something, huh?"
His question broke the silence, and she glanced over at him.
"Yeah, something."
"You, uh, you wanna talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Okay, fair enough."
He was quiet for a moment, and she could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
"He seemed like a real douche," he finally said.
"Yeah, he was a creep," she admitted, sighing.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
"Yeah, well, it is what it is."
"You shouldn't have to put up with that shit, though."
She could feel him looking at her, and she knew he wanted to ask her more questions. She didn't owe him any answers, and she had no intention of giving him any.
"How'd you end up at the restaurant anyway? If you don't mind me asking," he said.
"A friend set me up," she said, shrugging.
"A friend?"
"Yeah, a friend."
"I didn't realize you had any friends."
"I have plenty of friends," she snapped.
"I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say."
"It's fine."
She wasn't going to argue with him. They fell back into an awkward silence, and Buttercup turned her attention back to the window. The lights of the city flashed by, and she couldn't help but feel disappointed. Her date was a disaster, and now she was stuck in a car with her ex.
"Do you want me to drop you off somewhere else?" he asked.
"What?"
"You seem kind of upset. If you want me to take you somewhere else, I can."
"No, it's fine. I'd rather just go home."
"Okay."
The rest of the drive passed in silence, and when they finally pulled up in front of her building, she was relieved.
"Thanks for the ride," she said, opening the door.
"You're welcome. Buttercup-"
"What?"
"Never mind, it's not important."
"Okay, well, goodnight."
"Goodnight."
She got out of the car and walked towards her apartment, resisting the urge to look back.
She unlocked the door and went inside, dropping her keys on the table. She let out a sigh and rubbed her eyes. It had been a long night, and she was glad it was finally over.
As she moved towards the kitchen, her phone rang. She reached into her purse and pulled it out, seeing Brick's name on the screen. She didn't want to talk to him, but she knew he would just keep calling if she didn't answer.
"What do you want, Brick?"
"Just checking in. How'd it go?"
"Awful."
"That bad, huh?"
"Yeah, that bad. He was a creep."
"Damn, sorry, Buttercup."
"It's fine."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No, nothing like that. Just...just drop it, okay? I don't want to talk about it."
"Alright, alright. Just remember, you don't have to put up with that shit, okay?"
"Yeah, whatever. Goodnight, Brick."
"Goodnight, Buttercup."
She hung up and tossed her phone on the couch. She was exhausted, and all she wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep.
Butch had dropped her off, and she was back at her apartment, alone. Again. She didn't even have any pets or plants to come home to. She had left the window open a crack so the cat could come in and out as he pleased, but even that wasn't much of a comfort.
She knew she should have taken the opportunity to make some friends, but her stubborn pride refused. She hadn't gone anywhere or done anything except go to work and come home for months. She was lonely and depressed, and her sisters weren't helping.
Brick was always pushing her to do more, to get out, but his well-intentioned nagging only made her feel worse. He meant well, she knew that, but his advice was easier said than done.
Her phone chimed with a new text, and she picked it up, expecting another message from Brick. But the message wasn't from Brick, it was from Butch.
I'm sorry you had such a crappy night. You deserve better.
The simple words made her heart clench, and she read them over and over again, as if they might suddenly change.
It had been months since they had broken up, and not a day had gone by that she didn't miss him. She knew she shouldn't, he had broken her heart after all, but she couldn't help it.
He was the first man she had ever loved, and despite everything, she still loved him.
The memories of their time together flooded her mind, and she found herself wishing things could be different. That they could go back to the way they were before, when everything was good. When they were happy.
But they couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't go back. They had both made mistakes, and the damage was done.
She looked down at the phone again, at the simple, sincere message, and her heart ached.
"I miss you," she whispered.
She knew she shouldn't say it, but the words escaped before she could stop them. It was the truth, and no amount of denial or self-control could change that.
She missed him, and she couldn't stop herself from wondering if he missed her too.
She sat on the couch, staring at the wall. It was late, but she couldn't sleep. Her mind was racing, and her heart was pounding. She knew she needed to stop, but she couldn't.
She was obsessing. She knew it, and she hated it. She had always been stubborn, and it was one of her biggest flaws. She had spent the entire evening trying not to think about Butch, and now that he was gone, all she could think about was him.
It was driving her crazy.
The silence of the room was deafening, and it only made the voices in her head louder. The ones that told her she wasn't good enough. That she was pathetic.
"God damn it," she growled, slamming her fist against the couch.
This was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, and here she was, moping around like a lovesick teenager. It was embarrassing, and it needed to stop.
She was better than this.
"You're so damn pathetic," she muttered, standing up.
She walked to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. As she stood at the sink, drinking, her eyes fell on the calendar hanging on the wall.
It was open to the current month, and a familiar date caught her eye.
"Shit."
She had forgotten. It had been months since her birthday, and she hadn't even thought about it.
It was the first year she hadn't had anyone to celebrate with. No parties, no presents, no cake. Nothing. She had been too busy wallowing in her own misery to even notice.
"Great. Just great."
She sighed and set the glass down. She needed to get a grip. She couldn't keep living like this.
She needed a distraction.
She grabbed her phone and began scrolling through her contacts. There had to be someone she could call, someone who would help her forget about her ex-boyfriend.
There were a few names she recognized, but most of them were people she didn't really know. She wasn't close to anyone, and she wasn't exactly the social type.
"Ugh, this is stupid," she said, tossing her phone onto the counter.
She was being ridiculous. She didn't need to call anyone. She could take care of herself.
She looked around the empty apartment and felt her chest tighten. It was late, and the place was dark and silent.
"Come on, you're a big girl. You can handle this."
She took a deep breath and walked into the living room. She was determined to prove that she didn't need anyone. She could be alone. She could handle it.
She sat down on the couch and reached for the remote, flipping through the channels until she found a mindless sitcom. The laughter and canned music did little to lighten her mood, but it was better than the silence.
As she watched the show, her eyes kept drifting to the door. She knew it was locked, but part of her was still afraid someone would break in. Or worse, that Butch would come back.
"Stop it. Stop thinking about him."
But no matter how many times she told herself to stop, she couldn't.
He was the last person she wanted to think about, and yet, he was the only one she could think about.
"You're an idiot."
She had given up so much for him. She had put her career on hold, her dreams of becoming a vet on the backburner. She had let him walk all over her, and now, he was gone.
"God, why can't I get him out of my head?"
She groaned and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. The memories were relentless, and they were driving her crazy.
"Just go to sleep," she told herself.
But even as she said the words, she knew it wasn't going to happen. She was wide awake, and her mind was racing.
She sat there for hours, replaying the past year over and over in her head. She didn't want to, but she couldn't stop herself.
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and she drifted off to sleep. But her dreams were full of him, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape.
"You're a fucking moron, you know that, right?"
Blossom's words echoed in Buttercup's head, and she couldn't help but agree.
"Yeah, I know," she said, leaning her forehead against the window.