You briefly weigh your options, and realize that you have none. If you run, you might be killed. Even if you manage to survive the night, there's no telling if you'd be allowed back on the ferry. You might be stuck here on the island until tomorrow night, when the moon would rise again. Even if you made it home, odds are that your mother will be a werewolf, and probably quite complicit in forcing you to become a werewolf anyway. You realize you're stuck in a situation impossible to win.
"Becky," you ask one last time as you slip your shoes off, "Does it really have to be this way?"
"Yeah, Jen," she replied, "It does." She watches you, an eager, hungry look on her face as you shimmy out of your skirt and peel off your top, unhooking your bra. (And yes, she was right, you aren't wearing any panties.)
Slipping out of her own clothes, she walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you, kissing you on the lips. Her body is hot to the touch, like she's running a fever. You recoil slightly, unable to bring yourself to fully participate. It's not because Becky is unattractive; to the contrary, she's a fairly pretty girl. It's what you knows lies beneath her skin, ready to emerge.
"Come on, babe, relax," she says, her eyes beginning to glitter golden. She slides a hand between your thighs, rubbing lightly, eliciting a quiver and the softest of gasps from you. Regardless of how scared you are, your body still is responding to her touch. She presses back into you, kissing you again, her hand caressing your nether regions, and this time you respond harder, your tongues intertwining. Again, you pull away.
"I..Becky," you stammer, confused, because part of you is really enjoying this, no matter how terrified and hurt you are, while at the same time, part of you is disgusted by this. Your friend betrayed you, may have hurt your mother, and is now planning to affect your life in a way that you never imagined possible. "Becky..this..this is just.."