Page 8 of Baby Duke

I am standing in front of the mirror in my new bedroom, it's hard not to see as it covers an entire wall. My skirt is too short. No matter how much I tug at it, the thing will notbecome more modest. Don't get me started on the design choice either, because this flimsy thing is going to go all Marilyn Monroe at the slightest touch of wind.

The blouse isn'ttoohorrible, now that it's on. Yeah, I would love another button, but as long as I wear a decent bra, my tits will stay tucked away. I cup my breasts. The topdoesdo wonders for them, that's for sure.

The stripper socks I could do without. Are they sexy? Too right they are. But I'm going to school, for fucks sake, not the corner. I sigh, remembering my promise to Katie. I am thankful there are no shoes to go with the uniformbecause no doubt they'd have me in some six-inch heels that would break my ankle before I had even left the house; the number of stairs in this place is ridiculous! I'll be sticking with the Converses, thank you very much. At least the colors match.

Katie is squealing like a tween at a Justin Bieber concert when I trudge down the stairs.

"Oh! Roe, you look just like I did back in the days!" she says, like it has been forever and not the mere three years since she'd last worn the stupid thing. She scrambles to unlock her phone. "I justhaveto take a photo! It is your first day, after all. Double Bay High is going to get youplaces, Roe. You will want the memento when you look back in ten years' time."

Yeah right. I smile for the camera instead of voicing my doubts. She will just get snotty and give me the silent treatment. That is one thing I have learned in my single night here. Katie doesn't do conflict.

She hands me a hundred-dollar bill.

"For coffee," she says.

I am gaping like a freaking fish out of water. "Uh, you reckon they'll have change for this?" I ask, still staring at the crinkle-free, green slip.

"Of course," she says offhandedly. "This is Double Bay we are talking about."

Yeah, like that is going to clear it up for me. Ritch school accepts big notes. Got it.

"Are you excited for your first day?" Katie asks, a big, matte red smile in place.

"Sure," I reply. I can't remember the last time I went to school. I was a troubled student as it was. Being so far behind is going to kill me.

Katie tugs me in for a hug. "You will be fine, Roe. And I am sure Trent will be by your side as long as you need him."

That's right. My tutor.

"Trent's not one of these Dukes, is he?" I ask wearily.

"Oh, no, I don't believe so," Katie replies, but I notice her smile has become strained and her eyes dart away nervously.

Interesting.

Maybe this Trent will be useful in more ways than one. If he's on the bad side of the Dukes, maybe he could help me out with my scheming.

Just then, I hear a car honk from outside.

"That will be Trent!" Katie announces, flouncing ahead to greet my tutor.

I follow grudgingly behind. In my mind, I have thought up Trent to be short and pimply, with a large forehead and a buck-toothed smile. Oh, how delightfully wrong I am.

Trent is big; he has muscles fordays. He is tanned, though lighter than West, has thick eyelashes that any girl would be jealous of, and playful, chocolate eyes. He sports a man bun, which, to be completely honest, is usually not to my taste, but damn, he can pull it off.

I realize Katie and Trent are both staring at me. I must have missed the introductions while my hussy self was checking him out. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Sorry," I say, my lips curling into a flirtatious smile. "I was just pondering whether to get a fresh pair of underwearbecause these are suddenly damp." I flutter my eyelashes flirtatiously but keep my smile light so as not to give the poor fella any false hope.

As expected, Katie's eyes have grown to twice their usual size, and her face has bloomed an intense shade of cherry red, matching her lipstick ridiculously well. Without muttering a goodbye, she is off, heels tap-tapping on her way back inside.

Trent, however, is taking me in with new eyes. He has a huge smile on his face, showcasing a set of white teeth that are slightly too large. Ok, now I'm being picky.

Trent shoves off his sports car he had been resting against and extends his hand.

"Trent," he says. He has an accent. French, I think. I accept his hand and pump once. "And you, Roe…" he breaks off in a strong baritone laugh. "I mean, shit! Double Bay High will not know what hit it when you walk through the gates."

West

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