Princess For Hire: The Second Semester Part 8

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Part 8: The Littlest Princess

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-22-

I had thought my experiences in the Princess Program had prepared me for anything.

I had thought that, surely, there was nothing that could challenge a mind that had wrapped itself around the concept of gender being mutable.

I was wrong.

"Beckyyy, come play with meee!"

"I'm coming, sweetie!"

Two weeks. Two weeks since Mr. Uchiha had talked Stewart into heading the school's GSA and so many things had changed. It had started small, with only a student here or there opening up about joining, but it wasn't long before all of us in the Princess program were talked into joining, and the Protectors, and after that, it snowballed.

Two weeks, and the GSA was the largest organization at the school, and Stewart was suddenly popular.

He said he hated it, but every time someone would look up to him with respect, it was obvious he was growing to like it.

"Beckyyy!"

"I'm here, Rosie, I'm here!"

"Aaaaaaahhh! Hehehehe!"

"Hey! You little sneak, get back here!" I yelled after her as she skipped behind the jungle gym and out of my sight again.

So how is that all related to me chasing a five year old through a playground in a dress?

"Don't forget me!"

Oh, yeah, and Sarah too.

"This isn't helping, Sarah!"

"No, but it's fun!"

Stewart's parents were so proud of him that they had set up a weekend off as soon as they could to come and visit him. Their plan was to spend a day with him, take him out to eat, and generally celebrate his coming out of his shell, if not necessarily coming out, since they already knew.

But there had been a problem.

She was three feet four inches tall, had curly hair, and as I was discovering, had a compact nuclear reactor hidden somewhere inside her to be running around as much as she was.

And no babysitter.

Another town pass in exchange for watching her for a few hours had sounded good on paper, and I had been expecting to have a lot of fun playing with her. With Sarah's help, what could go wrong?

"Ooof... Hey!" The dirt clod had come out of nowhere, smacking me squarely in the ear and nearly knocking me down.

"Sorry, my bad!"

"Sarah!" I called angrily, but it was too late, she had already disappeared again.

As I was discovering, Sarah liked children largely because she was still five years old at heart herself.

On the plus side, with St. Patrick's day being the following weekend things should settle down for a while after that, and there was no force in Kingston Academy or the world that was going to drag me out of bed the next day.

On the downside, now I had grass and dirt stuck in my hair.

With a defeated sigh I found a convenient log and sat down, taking a much-needed breather. We had already been out here for an hour, and I was the only one in the least tired.

"Gotcha!"

"Eeeek!"

I would have been embarrassed by my squeal if it weren't for the fact I was supposed to be a girl. As it was, the surprise hug from behind was enough to send me to the ground, rolling with a still-giggling Rosie holding onto my neck.

"I got you Becky!"

"Yes, yes you did," I said, laughing myself as I watched the pure joy on her face as she scrambled up from the pile of leaves she had knocked me into. "But Rosie, I'm really not dressed for this."

"Why not?"

"Well," I said, thinking carefully how to explain it to her. "Princesses usually don't go rolling around in the dirt when they're wearing pretty dresses."

"Why not?"

"Because they get dirty?"

"So?" She looked at me with honest confusion.

"*sigh* Never mind. You'll see when you get bigger," I said, picking her up and tickling her, illiciting another round of frantic giggles from her as I carried her toward a nearby bench.

"Hey, you're supposed to be finding me too!"

"You're big enough to find yourself, thank you very much," I said without turning around as I heard the telltale sound of Sarah's sneakers crunching across the pine needles behind us.

True, babysitting Rosie had been much more aerobic than I had been expecting, but as she wrapped me in another hug I couldn't say that It was something I didn't enjoy.

I checked my watch discreetly behind her back as she held me, surprised to see that we had actually been at the park for more than two hours, not the one I had thought. Time truly must fly when you're having fun, or being run silly by two little girls.

"Whadda you two say we go get some cocoa or something?" I asked when Rosie finally let me go, holding onto her shoulders to keep her from disappearing again. It might be March, but it was still chilly this far north, and I could imagine quite clearly how pleasant it would be to wrap my hands around a nice hot mug of cocoa.

That made me think of hot apple cider, which made me think of Andrew, which was somewhere I really didn't want to go at the moment. Luckily, two squeals of glee were enough to keep me distracted, and with smiles on all our faces we headed toward the entrance to the park.

-23-

"I still can't believe you turned down the wedding dress."

"It was hideous, Sarah. You know it."

"Well, I thought it was nice."

"Would you wear it, then?"

"Well, no..."

I simply gave her a steady look over my steaming mug of cocoa, one she refused to return.

"What dress?" A curious little voice asked, tugging gently on my sleeve. Rosie had decided to have chocolate milk instead of cocoa, and apparently the joy of blowing bubbles with her straw had finally worn off, as she was looking up at me with another one of her beautiful smiles.

It was time I had a little fun of my own this afternoon.

"Sarah's been being mean, and thought it would be funny to stick me in an ugly old green dress for the parade next weekend knowing I'd have to wear it in front of everyone in town."

"Hey!"

"I like green."

"You wouldn't have liked this," I said, giving Rosie a very serious look. "It made me look like an upside down cabbage."

"It wasn't that bad!"

"It had gold sequins sewn into the lacy things under the skirt."

"Petticoats."

"Petti-whats?"

"Like a fluffy slip, sorta. And they really weren't that bad!" Sarah was fighting to keep her face looking indignant at my slighting of her taste, but she was having a hard time of it.

"Yes they were! The whole thing was awful, and it looked like it would weigh a hundred pounds!"

"Just you wait 'til I get married, I'll make you wear it instead of a bridesmaid's dress."

"You wouldn't," I said, realizing only too late that I had virtually agreed to being a bridesmaid when Sarah eventually got married.

Things would have heated up from there, if not for the rather sharp cry of "Girls!" from above our booth.

"Mommy!" Rosie yelled happily, jumping up from her seat in our booth and catapulting herself across my lap to wrap her arms around Mrs. Davis, who gave us a mischievous wink when both Sarah and I looked up at her.

"Now, what is this I hear you two arguing about?"

"Uh, nothing," Sarah said, gaining her voice first.

Rosie wasn't having it, though. "Sarah wanted Becky to put on a wedding dress, but Becky says it's ugly."

At her questioning look, I answered simply "Green." She glared at Sarah like she had just beaten her child.

"It's not that bad!" Sarah said again, defending the dress to the death, even though Rosie was now joining me and her mother in our Glare of Doom. "Oh, alright!" With a flail of her hands Sarah gave in, laying her head on the table. "It's just a stupid Saint Patrick's Day parade, anyhow."

"Oh?" Mrs. Davis asked, now looking at me.

I shrugged. "I've gotta ride in the float we're making for the event, and after that I'll be heading up our booth at the fair. Hostessing."

"What kind of booth?"

Me and Sarah exchanged a wicked glance before we both burst out laughing.

"Oh, dear."

"It's not what you think," I said, wiping a tear of laughter off my cheek and only then noticing the dirt still covering my face from Sarah's dirt clod earlier. "Some of the guys were trying to get us to do a kissing booth, but since it's only us Princesses who are working it we decided that would be too weird." Mrs. Davis nodded, urging me to continue. "So, since our school just put together the group that Stewart's leading, we thought it might be a good idea to do a Pride and Acceptance booth instead."

"Pride and Acceptance booth?"

I nodded. "We'll hand out those little pink triangles, and rainbow bracelets, and things like that. We'll also have some of those glowing bracelets and necklaces, too, since those are rainbow-striped, and have pamphlets for anyone who's curious."

"That seems like a strange booth for a fair, especially for an all-boys school. And princesses," Mr. Davis said, walking up behind his wife and correcting himself at Rosie's glare.

I didn't have a chance to respond, since that was when the waitress showed up to escort them to their table.

"Can I eat with you and daddy and Stewart?" Rosie asked, refusing to let go of her mom's legs.

"But aren't you having fun with the Princesses?"

"It's great! But I wanna see my big brother too!"

Stewart, who none of us had noticed, came up right then. Gone was the nervous, quiet boy from so recently, replaced by a much happier young man who smiled as he bent down and picked up his giggling little sister. "Of course you can eat with us!" he said, tickling her lightly and causing her to giggle and squirm even more.

It was his next words that shocked me the most, though. "Becky, would you and Sarah like to join us?"

I glanced over at Sarah, and she gave me a shrug, telling me it was my choice. "I don't think so," I said, giving him an apologetic smile. "I think we've got enough money for a cab back to school, so unless you need us to stay...."

"That's alright," Mrs. Davis said with a smile.

"You're leaving?"

I looked up into Rosie's frowning face, and almost changed my mind; but seeing Stewart had made me ready to face something I had been avoiding for over a week, and I knew if I didn't do it soon, I would lose my nerve.

"I'm sorry, Rosie, but it's time," I said, standing up and giving her one last hug, followed by Sarah, before we both waved and made our way for the doors to the diner.

It was shortly after calling a cab that Sarah finally turned to me and asked, "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

There was no need for me to ask what she meant, just like there was no need for me to tell her what I was going to do. I just gave her a nod, and a smile, before we stood there in silence waiting for our ride to arrive.

-24-

I hadn't spoken to Andrew for eight days.

It had been eight days since the fight. Eight days since he had scared me so badly I hadn't known if I would be able to talk to him again.

Eight days that I had felt more miserable than I had since before coming to Kingston, with nothing to look forward to but Rosie's visit.

Now, that was done and gone, and here I stood in my same smudged dress and dirty hair from the day. If I had taken the time to clean up, I would have lost my nerve. That was why as soon as we had paid our cab fare Sarah had walked me to his door, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before leaving me to my fate.

I knocked on his door once, twice, softly.

I hesitated.

My hand was poised for the third knock when the door was pulled open, and Bobby's familiar face stared back at me. He waved me in, and then closed the door behind him as he left.

I stood there alone in the room with Andrew, looking into his sad eyes, and I forgot everything I had wanted to say.

The forming of the GSA had been a bit caused quite a stir in the school. At first it had seemed that everyone would accept it gladly and easily, with its numbers swelling quickly the first couple of days, first with the Protectors, then with us Princesses, and then the slow but steady flow of students who weren't afraid to stand up for what they thought was right.

But not everybody had agreed with it. While our school might be a lot more tolerant than most, it still has its own small club of bigots who would do whatever they could to prove their own views right.

The first official meeting of the club had been the first Friday after its formation, and it was that Friday that they decided to strike.

I still couldn't -- didn't want to -- remember all the details of what happened, but even now it pained me to look at Andrew and see where his eye still held the outline of the bruise from being punched in the face. We had all fought back, and for the life of us none of us could give any details of who had attacked us, me, Andrew, Stewart, Bobby, and Jules, but the next day six students whose names I refused to think about were gone from the school, and Andrew was the only one of us with any lasting marks.

I had been in a good mood all day, thanks to Rosie. Now I felt like the floor was going to swallow me as I tried to get over my own shame.

After all, I was the one who had hurt Andrew.

The initial conflict was short and to the point. We survived, they got away, end of story. At least, if it weren't for me being a self-centered bitch about things. Andrew had tried to comfort me, but I had angrily pushed his arm away as I had soaked in my self loathing.

"Get the fag and the fairy first," had been the only words we had heard before they had attacked, and those words were still ringing in my head even now as I stood before him again.

I had punched him. Hard. He had only been trying to comfort me, and what did I do? I punched him.

Why?

Because I wanted him to hate me. After all, if it weren't for me he wouldn't have been involved in any of this, right?

And after that, after nearly falling over and having to be steadied by Bobby and Jules, first thing he had done was try to comfort me again.

That was when I had ran.

"Becky..."

I looked into his eyes, and I hated what I had done. Not just the punch, but putting him in the situation that led to being attacked. I still didn't even know what I was doing, and here I was endangering someone else, all because of something that I couldn't help.

"I'm sorry..."

I tried to say more. I had planned so much more. I had planned to say how he was better off if we stopped talking, how he didn't have to be part of the protectors, how he had done enough already.

How I had hurt him enough already.

But I never got to say any of that. As I felt the tears burning in my eyes, for the third time I felt him come to me and try to wrap his arms around me, to comfort me.

This time, I didn't resist.

For eight days, I hadn't said a word to Bobby, or Jules, or Andrew, and only enough to Stewart to learn when I would be watching Rosie. I had even avoided talking to Sarah about it any more than I had to, though she had been worried about me. That all fell away as Andrew held me, and leaned down to kiss my tears away.

For the first time in our relationship, I didn't let myself dwell on it, and simply let myself enjoy it.

(End of Part 8)

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Wow. It's been nearly a YEAR since I posted anything on this. It's hard to believe, and I hope that it doesn't hurt anyone's enjoyment of the story too much.

Just know that I'm trying to do better with this stuff. I'm getting back into writing a bit more -- as evidenced by cranking out this last night -- and... no, I'm not gonna make any estimations on when more will be out, since I'd just break them.

Instead, I'll end with my normal phrase for this story: IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

(Not necessarily soon, but it will.)



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