Page 43 of Baby Duke

We giggle over her tales of how the Dukes used spaghetti (on her chair, in her locker, water bottle, even tipped down her top) to torment her for over two weeks before she bent the knee, so to speak.

"But I've been plotting and plotting in the privacy of my own head, hence this business deal I'm fighting for," she says.

I look up at her and wipe my eyes. "About that, how did everything go last night?”

Katie scoffs, getting to her feet. She motions for me to follow and we head to the kitchen and each grab a coke before she says, "It was a complete waste of time. The Elders had no interest in my ideas. I was just there to learn my place, standing against a wall and grabbing beers and wine when called for."

I simmer in my anger and the injustice of it all.

"Don't worry, Katie, I'm going to take down the Dukes even if it's the last thing I do."

She sighs. "I want you to be safe, Roe. And it doesn't sound like you are. I don't want you to go after the Dukes if it means getting hurt in the process. Who knows, maybe the Dukes will take themselves down one day?"

I smile but don't believe it for a second. In fact, the whole social studies assignment may just be our ticket to taking them down. I keep my thoughts to myself as I take a sip of the sweet and bubbly goodness.

"You going to the party tomorrow night?" Katie asks, keen to change the subject.

"How the hell do you know there's going to be a party tomorrow night?"

"I may not be seventeen anymore, but I was once. The back-to-school bash is tradition."

"Fair," I say. "I don't know if I want to go, to be honest. East isn’t allowed to go to parties and she is the only girlfriend I’ve got. I don't know if Trent or Felix are going…" I trail off, not particularly fussed with where this conversation is going. "Besides," I add, "I've got nothing the wear."

Katie slams her can to the bench, then looks slightly sheepish as if she had not actually planned to be so brash.

"We are going shopping tomorrow. In the city."

"I've got school, Katie," I laugh. "Wasn't school a condition of my allowances?"

"Well, yes, but to hell with it! Every girl needs at least one killer outfit that is going to send all the boys to their knees."

"Ok, who are you, and what have you done with Katie?" I laugh, half in shock, half pleased with this new, fun, andyoungKatie. Because she is young, I remind myself. Too young to be mothering anyone, let alone a sassy teenager like me.

Katie laughs and wraps me up in a hug. Two days ago, I was not a hugger, but I am certainly softening up to it now. It is such a warm and fuzzy feeling being wrapped up in the arms of someone you care about.

Chapter Sixteen

West

Roe doesn't show up to school the next day. I hate myself for waiting out the front even after the second bell has sounded. I hate myself even more when twenty minutes have passed, and I am still sitting there like a pussy-whipped mother fucker.

Furious with myself, and Roe for having the audacity to not show up even after everything I put her through yesterday, I swear loudly before finally admitting to myself that she is not coming today. I head for class.

I have no idea what I would have even said to her had she shown up, but I knew I wanted to see her. No, Ineededto see her. Needed to see that I had not destroyed her fierceness.

I slam the door to class open, not giving a fuck when the teacher has to pause what they are saying while I stomp to my seat. He starts up again in a boring droll but most everyone is darting glances at me.

"You good?" Brett asks as I fall into my seat beside him.

I huff but do not respond. I am being an ass, and I know it. Brett is reaching out to me, attempting to breach the barrier in our friendship that I had made when I set the girls on Roe yesterday.

Rolling my shoulders, I glance over at him. "She's not here."

Brett nods, seemingly understanding the exactsheI am talking about. Fuck, of course, he would know who I was talking about. Like I said before, I'm fucking pussy-whipped.

"You could always go to her house and apologize," he suggests.

I scoff, "I don't think an apology would mean shit to her."

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