Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
Part 7
By Melanie Ezell

A Princess To The Rescue!

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(Beginning of Part 7)

Part 7: A Princess To The Rescue!

-19-

"I thought you said you could handle this job."

"I thought I could!"

"Then how do you explain THIS, then?"

Ronald, head of the St. Patrick's Day float committee, handed me a bundle of pathetic-looking streamers. At least, they had been streamers at one time, before I found out my scissors were broken, so I had to rip them apart instead of cutting them. And my glue was leaky, dripping everywhere and sticking things together, including what looked like a leaf. Then the tape had refused to come off its roll, giving me tiny strips I'd had to mash together into large tape-knots...

"I'm sorry?" I said, with my best puppy-dog eyes.

"Just... *sigh*," he said, shaking his head. "Why don't you go help Ace with painting the signs? I'll find someone else to do this."

I nodded, trying to hide my wince at being shoved off on yet another project. But how was it MY fault that things kept going wrong for everything I tried?

Nobody liked my ideas for the float even at the concept stage, saying they were too feminine for a boy's school, even if the centerpiece was supposed to be a Princess. Never mind they were almost all suggestions from the other Princesses I was asked to relay.

So, concept stage I was out. No one even asked me to help try and find someone who would volunteer a vehicle for us to use, proving that even in a school where the faculty tried to stress acceptance some sexual stereotypes still sunk in.

Now, at the construction stage, it seemed like I was incapable of doing anything without--

"Watch out!"

"Huh?"

*Sploosh*

I stood frozen in place as Ronald walked over and ever so calmly surveyed the damage to the Kingston Academy sign, or "Kingsy" I guess I should say, since the middle section was now nothing but a wash of green paint from the bucket I had accidentally kicked over.

"Becky, why don't you--"

"Yeah, I know," I groaned as I turned around and left the shop in search of Mr. Uchiha's office.

I had to give Jules credit where credit was due, so far his revenge plan was working out perfectly. I was just glad that my photo shoots were over until it warmed up a bit, because as things stood I was too frantically busy to make time for them.

If it wasn't the float, it would be Sarah dragging me to her room to look through potential outfits to wear, and then dragging handfuls of pictures and sketches to my appointments with the Seamstress to work on the design. So far they had had me set as a dancing girl, a leprechaun, and at one point even a full-blown Princess gown in emerald green, but none of them had seemed to fit with the float's design, which was, to say the least, rather minimalist. Sarah's latest idea was to have me in a kelly green wedding dress, which I thought was absolutely hideous. With any luck the seamstress would agree, and we'd be back to the leprechaun outfit, which we had set as our fallback if we couldn't find something better.

"Hey, fag, watch where you're going."

I stopped in my tracks. In most schools those words wouldn't have caused much of a stir, but this was the first time I had heard that kind of language here at Kingston.

"I wasn't--"

"Just watch it."

There was a soft "oof," followed by the crash of a body hitting a locker, before I saw two upperclassmen walking out of a cross hallway ahead of me and laughing. Neither one seemed to notice me as they went on their way, a minor miracle, and as soon as they turned into a classroom I made my way over to where the commotion had come from.

"Stew?"

"Wha? Oh, it's you. Just leave me alone, alright?"

He was slumped against the lockers on one side of the hallway, his left hand rubbing his right shoulder, I guess where the jerks had pushed him.

I ignored his protests as I walked toward him. "Come on, let me help you up." He tried to protest again, but before he could get a word out I was already at his side, steadying him as he stood.

"...Thanks, I guess."

"It's alright. What happened?"

"Nothing. Just, you know, jerks being jerks."

He refused to look at me as I helped him make his way to the nurse's office. There was more to the story here, a blind person could see that, but if he didn't want to talk about it I wasn't about to make him.

Ah, screw it. "Come on, Stew, tell me what's going on."

He glared at me angrily. "I'm sure you heard. I'm a faggot, so they decided to beat me up for it."

I felt my eyes widen as I stared at him. "You're gay?"

He slumped again, all the anger gone, and replaced by a weariness I never would have expected. "Yeah. So go ahead, yell at me or whatever."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a freak." I could see the tears in his eyes as he tried to turn away.

"Stew? Stew. Look at me."

Reluctantly he did, and as I waved my hand down my body I said in as sultry a voice as I could muster, "Oh, Andrew, you're so handsome..." Then I made a few kissy sounds.

At first, there was nothing. Then, a small smile cracked his lips, shortly before a laugh burst out from him.

"That's better."

"Thanks. I needed the reminder that I'm not the only freak in the school."

I ignored that remark as I helped him the rest of the way to the nurse's station. "So, now will you tell me what's really going on?"

-20-

The weather had been improving, and we were up to the mid-forties on a regular basis now, but that still didn't make the benches outside any more comfortable to sit on. On the other hand, it also allowed us to have a lot more privacy than we would have been able to find inside on a weekend like this, and I knew we'd need that if I were to get Stew to open up to me.

He rubbed his shoulder again where he had been shoved into the lockers. The nurse had said it would bruise up nicely but otherwise be okay, while Stew had refused to tell her what had happened. I kept my mouth shut as well, hoping it would help me to gain his trust a bit more.

"Please?"

He glared at me for a moment before lowering his head in defeat. "What do you wanna know that you don't already? I'm gay, they wanna beat me up over it, and my life sucks. Case closed."

"But the school..."

Stew let out a derisive snort. "The school's not as wonderful as you think. You're a Princess, royalty here at the school and part of one of our most prestigious programs, even if it's still being kept mostly under wraps. Even with that, you didn't think the Protectors were there just as arm candy, did you?" He asked acidly.

"Well, I hadn't really thought about it..."

"Exactly. And you don't have to, either, while those of us who aren't a part of the school's elite still have to deal with things like normal high schoolers."

I felt like slapping myself as the realization hit me. I had heard tales from Sarah and some of the others about how things had been rougher the first year of the program, and that instituting the Protectors had helped, but I had never thought about the effect it must have had on some of the other students.

We were the most obvious target for the bullies. Hell, we were teen boys running around in skirts and makeup, we were the obvious target for EVERYONE. And yet, beyond the occasional whispering and nasty look I had never been shoved, or hit, or even really verbally abused for being a Princess by any of the students. How much of that was acclimatization, and how much of it was the Protectors taking care of the problems before they arose?

Then there were the students like Stew, who didn't have the Protectors on their side...

"It must be awful."

The cold, humorless laugh he let out belied the tear I saw fall down his cheek.

"It was worse, last year."

"Professor Swift?" I asked, the clues sinking in.

He nodded. "All that stuff I gave you about him? I already had all that information, I'd started coming across it when I was writing my paper last year. When he treated my paper so badly, I got a bit defensive about it. I confronted him after class, and..."

"What?" I asked, when he stopped talking for a while, simply staring at the floor.

"I tried to explain that I understood better than he was giving me credit for. I thought that surely even someone as callous as him would be able to identify with another outcast, but instead he just sneered at me. I didn't know that a few other students had hung around after class to talk to him as well, but when he asked if they had enjoyed the show..."

"That's horrible!" I gasped, shocked that even Swift would be that nasty.

"You really DON'T get it, do you? Swift's just as big a bully as any of them, and just like them he's been denied his best target by the school, so he takes it out on whoever he can. He has to be more subtle about it, but he finds ways. Well, after that, let's just say that it got around the school pretty fast that I was gay, especially among the bullies."

"And nobody's tried to stop it?" I asked.

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm not a Princess." While I was still reeling, Stew stood up and awkwardly dusted off his jacket. "Listen, thanks for listening to me. It... it felt good to talk. But I don't need your help, and if I'm seen hanging out with you too much it will just make things worse."

I watched him walk away, still nursing his bruised shoulder, and I thought.

In a way, what Stew said made a lot of sense. Who would the bullies turn to when as obvious a target as us was taken away? And I knew that the Protectors were put in place to keep us safe, but the idea that it made things worse for others felt, well, wrong, somehow.

Yet I couldn't deny what I had seen, and Stew's words definitely rang true. He might not want to be my friend, but I didn't think he would lie to me for no reason, either. Was this why Bobby and Andrew had befriended him, to try and help him? Or did they not know about any of this, either?

I had to laugh at myself for even considering it. Of course they would know, wouldn't they? It was their job to know. I was probably the only person in the entire school who didn't, actually, though given how self-absorbed I could be I guess I shouldn't be so surprised.

What really bothered me, though, was what this meant for the school as a whole. When I had joined the Princess Program, Mr. Uchiha had told me this school was safe. He told me the school was tolerant. He made it sound like the most wonderful place in the world, and for me, it had been.

Well, most of the time.

But for others?

-21-

Mr. Uchiha's office was pleasantly warm, and the gas fireplace in the corner cast a wonderfully homey glow about the room.

"Ah, Miss Henderson, and why do I have the pleasure of seeing you today?"

"Uh, I kinda messed the float up, sir. Again."

Mr. Uchiha's normally pleasant face took on a look of grim shock for only the briefest of moments before it again settled into its typical smile. "Not too badly, I should hope?"

I started to shrug, but not wanting him to worry I instead shook my head. "No, sir. They can fix it easily, I think."

"Without you there, I'm assuming?"

"That's the idea I got, sir."

He nodded in understanding. "Very well, then. I'm sure there are other things we can have you help with that would be more fitting with your skill sets. We still haven't decided on what to do for our representative booth at the fair following the parade, for instance, and I'm sure you are as ready as anyone to find out what that might be."

"Yessir."

"Very well. From now on I'll have you work on that. Perhaps by next weekend we'll have enough volunteers to start, though I suppose that means you'll have the rest of this weekend off?"

"If you say so, sir." I started to turn to go, when my conscience grabbed me by the throat. I didn't know if I could do any good, but I had to at least try. "Mr. Uchiha, sir?"

"Yes?" He asked, glancing back up from the manga he had been reading.

"I saw something earlier today that kind of upset me. I don't want to say any names, but there were some students beating up a friend of mine because he's... different."

Mr. Uchiha's face grew serious as he listened to me. "I see. This is disappointing news. Who were they beating up? Never mind, no names," he said, shaking his head in disappointment. "But why report it if you don't plan to let me take care of it?"

"Well, sir, I thought you said the school was a safe, accepting place? But after talking to my friend, he says it's only like that for the Princesses. Is this true?"

"I would hope not, but it seems I need to have another talk with some of my staff about properly monitoring the hallways, even on non-school days. Can you give me any more information at all?"

"They called my friend a fag, sir." I immediately regretted saying the word in front of the school's headmaster, but I had the feeling the only way to get my point across clearly was to be as blunt as possible.

He winced at my usage of the word, but simply nodded and gestured for me to leave the room, which I gladly did.

***

Classes on Monday started the same as any other day, but morning announcements brought a surprise.

"Dear students, it has recently come to my attention that we have in our school several students who do not share the school's views on tolerance and equality," Mr. Uchiha's voice rang out over the intercom. "While every student is entitled to their own opinion, it is inappropriate for those who do not agree with certain lifestyles to abuse other students, regardless of race, creed, or sexuality."

A murmur erupted around me, as the other students in my American History class began to wonder what was going on. Me? I just wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

"In response to this, I have seen it necessary to start an organization within our school to help combat this intolerance. Many of you are familiar with out Princess program, and this organization will have the help of the Protectors in the same way that that program does. I would now like to introduce you to the co-presidents of the school's new Gay-Straight Alliance program, Stewart Davis and Andrew Stone."

Stewart? And Andrew?

"Uh, hi everyone. Umm... we, I mean, this group, is being put together so that anyone in the school who wants to, ah, show support for the gay students, or who thinks it's okay, can, um..."

"What my friend here's trying to say," Andrew's voice cut in, "is that we here at Kingston Academy should all try and be the best people we can be, regardless of whether we're gay, straight, or something else. As a member of the Protectors, I have the agreement of the rest of the group that we'll do anything and everything we can to help those who join the GSA to stop bullies and intolerance when we find it."

"Uh, yeah."

"Thank you, boys," Mr. Uchiha's voice came back on the line, and I would swear I could hear a smile in his tone. "Those who wish to join the Alliance may do so by speaking to either Mr. Grumby in the drama studio or Mrs. Edwards in our life planning facilities, as they will be our faculty sponsors for the program. Enrollment will be kept confidential for the time being. Thank you for your time."

As the chimes rang out indicating the end of the message, I know I wasn't the only person left reeling. How much of this was because of me, and how much of it was already planned?

And how had he talked Stewart into being President?

(End of Part 7)

NOTES:

Welp, I was right, publishing what I had of "Switcheroo" helped to inspire me for sure!

This isn't exactly what I originally had planned for this part, to be honest, but as I wrote it this is what came out.

I've got all 45 chapters of this book somewhat planned out already, with every part having a title and subline so I remember what's supposed to happen. The subline for this part was "In Which Becky Stops A Bully, And An Alliance Is Formed." I had intended it to be her and Stewart becoming stronger friends when she steps in and helps him with a bullying problem. Then, as I wrote it, the reason for the bullying just came out, and the "Alliance" moved from being simply their improved friendship to something that adds, I feel, a lot more to the universe while adding the same closeness to their relationship, as will be explained in later chapters.

I know this isn't up to my usual quality, and for that I apologize. I restarted this part several times, and what you see here now has poured out of me over a time period of just a little over two days, so I hope you enjoy it, and like where things are going!

Coming Soon -- Part 8: The Littlest Princess!

Melanie E.