Contest option 2- the fight

Taylor walked over to her dresser and pulled out the scholarship paper. “I- I got accepted.” She held it out to Case and let him read it over. Confused, he stood up and the paper fluttered to the floor as he finished reading it. She couldn’t see his face even as he stood over her.
“Wow,” he said.
“That’s all you have to say?” She meant to sound jokey but the phrase came out deadly serious.
“You’re leaving in only a week.”
So I guess he’s just assuming I’m going. No questions asked. He won’t try to stop me. Why did that bother her so much?
“Yeah, I guess so.” He still wasn’t going to say something? “You uh, okay with that?”
“Yeah. It’s a good opportunity for you.” His voice sounded strange to her.
“It is…”
“Yep…”
And still she waited for him to speak, and still, that’s all she was doing.  Waiting. Her face grew hot and she didn’t know why and suddenly certain words were coming from her mouth and she didn’t know where they were coming from. “You really don’t care, do you?!”
Casey’s mouth dropped open but he didn’t reply.
“It’s like you want me to leave!”
“I never said that,” he spoke softly as always.
“Oh, but you might as well have. Here I was waiting for you to say something, but I should’ve known better! You know, you’ll do whatever with Caley, talk to her, walk around, take her to the tree house. Stuff that you wouldn’t do with me for months. It’s like you want me to get away so the two of you can be alone together. Without me.”
Casey’s face was red but he went quiet again. She could see a new emotion in his eyes that she’d not seen before. Was it... anger? If it was, then good! She was calling him out. That stupid girl was always making doe eyes at him and he was falling for it! She could tell. But as soon as the words had stopped flowing from her mouth, the thoughts began to flow again in her brain and one thought became paramount: Why was she bringing this up? It had nothing to do with art school, really, and it shouldn’t’ve bothered her. She sighed. “Casey, I-”
But he just stood up, silencing her but ever so softly putting a finger over her lips. He stared at her for some time, not unkindly, but, for some reason, nothing hurt more than to have him look at her like that and she suddenly wished the last few seconds of her life had never happened. “I think you should do it,” he whispered and bent like he was going to kiss her, but instead, ruffled her hair in that way he did and walked out. A few moments later she could see him out the window walking away.  And this was the processing that occurred in those couple of seconds:
Why did it feel so bad (because Caley had been her best friend, and they’d fought, but it had never felt quite like this)?
For what reason had she brought up all those unrelated issues?
Why had it mattered so much?
Was there something making her wish he’d stop her from leaving?
Could she be?
Did she?