SubscribeStar Story: The Teaching Assistant, Part 37

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Part 37

That got Amelia moving.

Getting dressed in front of Ashley was bad enough, but the dark haired girl had already seen Amelia’s toweled form before putting her to bed. That was mildly comparable to the way the nearly nude blonde was about to be exposed. Claire had been absent for the last part of the demeaning evening, however, and Amelia would very much prefer to keep anyone else from seeing her undressed. At least then she could claim that it was the uniform that made her look so youthful, rather than her less than impressive body when Amelia didn’t have her usual morning routine to age herself up a little bit.

As a young adult who looked more like a teenager when dressed casually, it was frustrating enough to be mistaken as a younger girl every now and then in her regular life. This was an entirely different level, and Amelia would do anything in her power to maintain some semblance of maturity despite how she was being set up to appear the total opposite of that.

She awkwardly squirmed underneath the covers in order to wrestle the cotton underwear up her thighs as quickly as possible, then moved on to the bra. Trying to walk the line between being efficient without looking panicked, Amelia decided to bail on the sheets that had protected her modesty thus far. Instead, she swiveled herself to face the headboard. Her entire bare back was on display to Ashley, but it’s not like girls didn’t change like that all the time. Not Amelia, of course, but she had friends who would turn away for a quick change to avoid unnecessarily flashing everyone while still avoiding the hassle of going into the other room when they were comfortable enough with those present.

Amelia hadn’t worn a training bra in years, but they weren’t particularly complicated to put on. When the childish undergarment was settled on her chest, she frowned a bit at the tightness on her chest. It was definitely a size too small, and a quick downward glance informed her that her already petite chest had been flattened down to two barely existent mounds. And she had thought that the shoes from the Lost and Found had been bad.

There wasn’t time to dwell on it, unfortunately. Whether or not Ashley had intentionally found a bra that didn’t quite fit, it didn’t change the fact that Claire was on the way and Amelia was half naked. Sighing to herself, and trying not to blush as she turned and swung her legs over the side of the mattress, she stood up and allowed Ashley to see her in the matching white, cotton set.

Of course, the smirky senior was happy to comment. “Yep, that’s about as small as I was when I was thirteen. Give or take. Looks like you still have some developing to do, Millie.”

Amelia didn’t say a word. It was one thing to begrudgingly go along with this ‘transfer student’ thing. However, she wouldn’t let anyone else get a rise out of her; that had already gone poorly the last couple times, and her current image meant that raising her voice made her look more like an angsty teenager than a pissed off adult. Of course, it was slightly different with Ashley, as she knew Amelia’s real age. But the eighteen year old who had started all of this also had the power to prolong the elaborate prank and/or make it worse, which meant Amelia needed to choose her battles.

Walking right past Ashley and pretending like she didn’t even hear the rude comment, Amelia pulled the familiar blazer off the hanger. Setting over the desk chair for a moment, she decided her chest was the best thing to cover in case Claire arrived before Amelia was done putting the uniform on for the second day in a row. She pulled on the white shirt and did a couple of the buttons before switching to the skirt using similar logic. Covering as much as possible was the way to go.

Ashley didn’t make any further remarks, but Amelia could easily imagine the amusement on her face. After all, the girl had succeeded in extending this to the weekend, and Amelia was getting dressed as if she was actually a student. Again. And, unfortunately, Amelia only got as far as the skirt and the button-down before Claire was strutting into the room without even knocking.

“Millie!” she exclaimed. Without any warning, she walked over and gave the short blonde a hug. “Good morning! Omg, you’re so cute. Did your boobs get smaller? How old are you again?”

Amelia was very much caught off guard by the tight embrace, and the brunette prefect’s bubbly attitude made Amelia feel incredibly stupid for ever believing that ‘Mrs. Thompson’ was an administrator. This girl was very clearly a teenager, even if she had the ability to put on a more authoritative air when necessary. The physical contact, as well as the back to back observations, made Amelia blush more than before. She hated being called ‘cute’ and, while her breasts were technically the same size as always, the training bra she had on was much less flattering than the expensive push-up one she wore yesterday.

“Umm, Millie?” Ashley said, “A prefect just asked you a question. I’d hate for you to get an infraction so early in the day. Don’t you remember our deal?”

Truthfully, no. The impossible conversation about Amelia’s stay had pushed and pulled her in so many directions, to the point where it was difficult to keep track of all the details. At the end, Ashley had harped on how Amelia needed to ‘develop physically and intellectually,’ but that’s not where they had started. There had been something about ‘no infractions,’ and maybe something about proving her maturity? Although it didn’t really matter. With the tunnel vision she currently had in regards to accessing a computer, the only real focus was on not complicating things until then. “Thirteen,” she mumbled. Both questions had seemed teasing and rhetorical until Ashley had insisted on an answer; of the two, the latter felt like the only one worth replying to.

Finally pulling back from the awkward, prolonged hug, Claire kept her hands on Amelia’s back to ensure that they stayed close, but loosened her grip at the same time. “Westridge girls speak properly, Millie,” she said. Her perky attitude had done a total 180; she was stern and intimidating, especially due to the height difference. Amelia was still barefoot, but Claire was wearing heels that gave her an extra inch. “Try again. How old are you?”

In the back of her mind, Amelia knew that she was older than Claire and shouldn’t feel so vulnerable from such a simple social pivot. After the last 24 hours or so, however, it was difficult to think about the way she would normally respond to something like this. That, and she had never dealt with anyone addressing her like this. The proximity and the way Amelia had to slightly crane her neck to meet the girl’s eyes just piled onto the nervous and self conscious feelings that she was suddenly caught up in. “I’m thirteen years old . . . Ms. Claire,” she said, belatedly remembering the rule about academy authority figures that included prefects.

“That’s better,” Claire nodded, “You’re thirteen years old. Not an adult, then?”

Amelia’s blush darkened. “No . . . I’m a transfer student, Ms. Claire. Until I develop physically and intellectually.”

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