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body, noticing I’ve dropped about five pounds since being here already. I was small naturally. Well,
smaller than my sister. Petite is the appropriate word to use, whereas my sister Melissa is athletic and
curvy. I always envied her body. I would get picked on growing up because people would say I had
the body of a twelve-year-old when I was sixteen. I never understood their reasoning because I had
boobs; it was just the rest of me that was small. My hand trails up to the gold crucifix that hangs
proudly from my neck and I rip it off, shoving it into my bra. Swallowing down my pain, I pick up the
little white corset and tie it around myself before slipping into the tiny black skirt. Wow, no
underwear. I should be surprised, but I’m not.
The cell door opens again just as the waist of my skirt snaps around me. I tilt my head at Tripp,
who walks in with high heel shoes clutched in his hands.
“Why?” I ask, looking pointedly at the high strappy shoes.
He throws them towards me. “Because when you get on the podium on Sunday, you need to know
how the fuck to walk in those.”
“Sunday?” I question, picking up the shoes and slipping my feet into them.
“Stop asking so many fucking questions,” he exhales. “I can’t give you fucking answers, Millie.
Just do up your shoes and let’s go.”
I pause around the final strap that I was doing and look up to him hesitantly. “What’s going to
happen to me?” I ask, fascinated.
He pauses and I stand to my feet once the final strap is done. Taking my hand in his, the minute his
fingertips slide over mine, an electrical current zaps between us. He pulls away. “A whole bunch of
shit that that innocent little head of yours couldn’t even dream of.” He nudges his head towards the
door. “Move.”
My head angles. “You’ll be surprised,” I mutter before putting one foot in front of the other to make
my way towards the dark corridor.
Heavy footsteps pound against the pavement behind me. I pause just as I hit the bottom step. “What are you doing?” Tripp asks from behind me, his voice mere centimeters from my ears. I turn around to face him, my eyes scanning his nervously, pulling my lip in-between my teeth. “Can
I ask you something?”
“What?” he asks agitated with my stalling.
“How old are you?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“Are you old?” I cock my head, fighting a grin because I know deep down that he isn’t. His thick body stills. “No. Hurry up.” He turns my body, shoving me forward as I continue to make
