SubscribeStar Story: The Teaching Assistant, Part 33

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Part 33

Both physically and intellectually.

Under normal circumstances, Amelia would feel offended. Beyond offended. Anyone saying something like that all the things that came before it would be out of line, but the summary was particularly rude coming from a girl that was younger than her. In her current state, however, Amelia was completely out of steam. Even when Ashley had revealed the complicated prank, Amelia still ended up walking the academy halls like the difficult student she had been registered as. She had been judged by prefects and teachers alike, tutored despite normally being a strong student, and even bullied a little bit by a girl years her junior.

She was more exposed than ever, as a towel was even less flattering than the schoolgirl outfit when it came to her petite self. And while she still didn’t agree with Ashley’s conclusion, Amelia found it more and more difficult to push back against the girl’s roundabout way of explaining things. Amelia had never been good at handling ‘girl logic,’ as she had always been on the more academic side of things. Hot/popular girls like Ashley, however, had that clever way of twisting words that was unique to the fairer sex. Manipulative guys existed, of course, but girls just had a certain casualness that was layered with social pressure as well.

Deep down, Amelia knew what Ashley was doing. And yet, she fell for it anyway.

“But, I’m not a student,” Amelia mumbled. That’s all she could handle. Considering what she had echoed about developing a minute ago, there was no debating the physical side of things when her recent words could so easily be used against her. As for ‘intellectually,’ how could she defend herself after the day had painted her pretty solidly as a girl that needed extra help in numerous subjects? It was getting to the point where she was merely clinging to the fact that she was an adult, and a soon to be teacher. That should be enough to counter the suggestion that she was a transfer student. Right?

Ashley just sighed. “Yes, you are. We’ve been over this, Millie.”

Had they? It was all getting blurry. The conversation hours ago vs. what they had talked about before Amelia’s shower vs. the recent embarrassing sequence of questions and statements that revolved around her body and her day as a whole. “But, umm . . . ” Amelia trailed off. She wasn’t a student. But she also had no idea what to say.

“Hey. Look at me.” Ashley scooted over and took Amelia’s chin. Looking right into the nervous blonde’s eyes, Ashley said, “Just try, okay? Honestly, it’s not that difficult.”

Amelia awkwardly shifted in place, but managed to keep eye contact. It took a conscious effort to do so. Looking away would make her seem more shy and vulnerable when she was still clinging to the reality that she was supposed to be an authority figure at the academy, although maintaining her gaze and allowing Ashley to keep her gentle yet firm grip felt like it would end just as badly for her. It was easily a lose/lose, so all she could do was commit to the loss she had landed on. “But . . . “ she repeated. More at a loss than before, Amelia foolishly waited on Ashley to continue.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Millie. Tomorrow, you’re going to be a perfect Westridge student all day long. No infractions. Academic excellence. If you’re the mature girl that you claim to be, you should be able to handle that. Right?”

“And if I do?” Amelia couldn’t believe what she was saying. She was actually considering it. It was a confusing combination of feeling more self conscious than usual, feeling judged by Ashley, and wanting to find a way out of this mess while still having a shot at the job. Without the office girl’s help, that was going to be unlikely. And with all her possessions still confiscated, proving her identity alone might not be possible.

Ashley just smiled. “First, tell me your name.”

Amelia hesitated. She knew what the dark haired senior was fishing for, but it still felt wrong despite how frequently she had been addressed by the nickname all day. ‘Amy’ would have been fine. ‘Millie,’ however, was something else entirely. Blushing from both the question and the lingering contact on her chin, Amelia muttered, “Millie.” Leaning into the game, in case Ashley decided to use a wrong answer to claim that she was being difficult and/or immature.

“The whole thing?”

“My name is Millie . . . ”

It wasn’t the first time they had gone through this, but this iteration was so much worse. The chin grip, the way Ashley was staring her down, and the towel that was the only scrap of ‘clothing’ she had to wear at the moment. Amelia managed to keep her eyes up, but was unable to keep her body completely still. Shifting again on the edge of the bed, she waited for whatever the devious girl had in mind next.

Casually direct as ever, Ashley asked, “And what are you going to do tomorrow?”

At that, Millie hesitated. Weren’t they supposed to talk about something else first? She was trying to sort out the details of all this with Ashley, but the constant curveballs of the conversation were keeping her from being able to focus and keep track of everything. “But, what about-”

“Answer the question, Millie. Be mature.”

“I’m . . . going to be a student?”

“You are a student, until you grow up. We already talked about that. But tomorrow, you’re going to try and prove that you’re not an immature little girl. And the only way to do that, Millie, is to be perfect.”

“What? No, I-”

“What’s your name, again?”

Caught off guard again, Millie only briefly hesitated this time. “ . . . it’s Millie.” After yet another insistence about speaking properly, she said the whole thing. “My name is Millie.”

“Better. Now, are we going to be here all night, or are you going to be a good little Westridge girl?” Ashley’s tone was a little more firm, as was her gaze.

“I’m, umm- I’m going to be . . . Ashley, please,” Millie pouted, “I can’t.”

At that, Ashley smirked the slightest bit. “Yes. You can. All you have to do is repeat after me. You can manage that much, right?”

“Well-”

“Yes or no, Millie?”

“Yes,” Millie mumbled.

“Good. Let’s start with, ‘My name is Millie, and I’m thirteen years old.’”

“Wait! That’s not-”

Ashley scoffed. “God, you can’t get anything right, can you? No wonder you were transferred here. Most girls would get something like this on their first try. Clearly you’re not that mature.”

“I am mature!” Millie exclaimed. Finally finding the courage to slap Ashley’s hand away from her chin, she glared at the eighteen year old girl who had set all of this in motion. She didn’t even realize that Ashley had honed in on one of her weak points–thanks to Millie’s small stature, she had always prided herself on being mature and sophisticated in spite of it. Now that the image she had of herself was being challenged and questioned over and over again, she found it hard to keep her cool.

Surprisingly, Ashley didn’t seem annoyed or judgmental like she had just a moment ago, nor did she seem smug and smirk-y. Instead, it’s like she didn’t care. Standing up from her spot on the bed next to Millie, Ashley glanced down at the girl. “If you’re so mature, then I guess you don’t need me for anything.” With that, she turned and walked towards the bedroom door.

It took Millie a couple long seconds to process the potential fallout of Ashley leaving. The impossible to deal with girl was the only one who knew where all of Millie’s things were and, to make things worse, Ashley was about to leave her with nothing but a towel. “WAIT.” The desperate exclamation escaped Millie’s lips before she could think about how vulnerable calling out like that would make her seem. But how else was she supposed to deal with all this? One way or another, Millie would have to leave the room practically naked if she was left alone to get herself out of this mess. And then what? Run into a girl like Summer, who would have an easy enough time stealing the towel away? Or into a prefect who assumed she was causing trouble? Even the teachers and administrators knew her as ‘Millie the transfer student’ instead of ‘Amelia the teaching assistant.’

Ashley was the one who got this ball rolling, and she was also the only one who could make it stop.

Without looking back, Ashley placed her hand on the doorknob. “What’s your name, and how old are you?” she simply asked. Then she gave the knob a twist.

Millie didn’t stall for an instant this time. “My name is Millie, and I’m thirteen years old.”

“That’s what I thought.” Letting go of the doorknob, Ashley turned around to face the petite blonde again. However, she didn’t leave her place adjacent to the door quite yet. “And you’re a student here?”

“Y-yes,” Amelia blushed. It didn’t feel totally right to agree just like that, so she added the important distinction, “A transfer student.” Just transferred from somewhere that wasn’t another school.

“And how long will you be attending Westridge as a student?”

“Until . . . umm, until I grow up?”

“Almost, Millie. Let’s be specific. You want to be a student here until you develop physically and prove that you’re capable of passing our intermediate classes. Isn’t that right?”

Not quite. It was all kinds of rude and patronizing, but Millie was completely out of energy. And while the implication had been hinted at here and there in various ways before, everything was a lot more clear now that Ashley was poised to walk away. Keeping her satisfied was important, even if it meant willingly playing this game instead of trying to do things another way. “Yes. That’s right,” Millie quietly replied. After the most demeaning day of her life, she was basically signing up for a second one while also allowing her body to be insulted at the same time.

Of course, Ashley wanted to hear it. “You want to be a student until . . . ”

Blushing more deeply, Millie replied, “Until I grow up physically and intellectually.” Paraphrasing with Ashley’s earlier words.

“Mm hmm. And while we wait for your body and mind to develop, you’re going to do your best to be a perfect Westridge girl. So that means being the thirteen year old student that you are tomorrow. Go to class. Stay out of trouble. You can do that, right?”

“Right.” The toweled girl nervously nodded. She was too flustered and worried about Ashley’s most recent maneuver to consider that the recent conversation wasn’t even particularly subtle about how it could be taken. Before, Millie was just focusing on the coming 24 hours. Sleeping in a boarding school dorm, and spending yet another day walking and talking like a schoolgirl despite her real age.

Ashley had cleverly chosen her words, however. And, if she played her cards right, this could end up being a longer form of entertainment for her.

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