Page 40 of Baby Duke

"Get the fuck off me," I hiss.

Chapter Fifteen

Roe

I cannot believe he did this to me. I mean, I’m not usually such a vain person, but when I am suddenly attacked by a hissing storm of bitches and blades, and I receive a desperately unwanted and absolutelyhorridhaircut, a girl has the right to lose her fucking mind. Which is exactly what I’m doing.

I let out a wordless scream and slam my palms against the bathroom mirror. Funnily enough, I have found myself in the same bathroom I had been in not thirty minutes past.

East, Felix, and a reluctant Trent trail into the bathroom.

"Roe, I'm… Fuck, I'm so sorry he did that to you!" East cries, running her fingers through my uneven hair.

"Not your fault," I say hollowly.

Felix comes up behind me on the other side. "You know," he whispers as if he is trying to calm a spooked horse. "I’ve been cutting hair since I was twelve. My sisters', my moms' and my own. I can… I can fix this if you will let me?"

"How?" I ask, my voice thick as I meet his eyes in the mirror. "How could you possibly fix this?"

He smiles gently.

"I will have to make it short, really short, to match this spot here," he runs his finger through a section of hair on the back of my head, which I assume is the closest to my scalp. "Think 2012 Miley Cyrus."

"Fuck yes, Roe!" East exclaims, tapping Trent on the shoulder rapidly. "You’re going to look like a fricking rock star! Tell her, Trent!" she gives him a particularly rough tap in her excitement.

Trent, soaking up the attention and touch of East, agrees readily.

The bell rings for class, and East curses. "My dad will kill me if I miss class. I'm sorry, Roe, I will have to skip out, but I will try to come see you after school?"

I smile sadly at her. "Don't worry about it. If it will get you into trouble again, just head home. I'll see you tomorrow anyway."

I give her a quick hug, and she rushes off to class.

Trent awkwardly lingers before excusing himself as well, muttering that he would email me notes from class.

Felix and I linger another five minutes, waiting for the halls to quiet as the masses get to class before we head out. Thankfully, the halls are empty, and there is no one to witness my walk of shame.

Felix's car is as flashy as the rest of them, though also completely individual in its shocking shade of hot pink.

I whistle, "Fuck yeah, Felix! Now this is a car I could get on board with!”

He smirks and pats the hood tenderly. "She's a showstopper, that's for sure."

We head to Felix's house with Ed Sheeran blasting, both of us shamelessly singing along at the top of our lungs. We aren't perfect vocalists, but we aren't terrible either. We sound like a mediocre pub karaoke team.

"You've got the voice of an angel, Roe," Felix says as the song ends.

I snort, "I'm no Taylor Swift, mate."

"Didn't say you were," he smirks.

"Asshole," I smirk back.

We spend the rest of the ride singing and joking. I know he is trying to keep me distracted, and I am relieved that it has worked, if even only for a short time. Reality slaps me in the face as we turn into the drive of, yep, you guessed it, a mansion. Felix's home is French in style, beige with baby blue window shutters and draping plants hanging from the veranda and windows.

"You don't sound French," I muse as we traipse up the front steps.

"Oh, I'm not," he replies. "Not a drop of frog in these veins. My grandmother was obsessed with France, and my grandfather, being a love-struck fool, built this monstrosity to please her."

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