Princess for Hire

By Melanie Ezell

Daniel Henderson has managed to beat the odds and been accepted into Kingston Academy, one of the best private high schools in the country. However, when Daniel is invited to take part in a special program, he learns that there's more to the school than he had thought...

NOTE: This story is loosely -- as in VERY loosely -- based on the manga/anime "Princess Princess." After the initial concept, any similarities are mostly coincidental, unless they aren't. (Puzzle that out why don't ya.)

Part 4: The Princess's Court

-10-

I made it through the rest of the first week in more or less one piece, and with only minor run-ins with Andrew to boot. He may have been a nice guy, but the last thing I needed right then was his stumbling over how to talk to me and consequently making me nervous too. Instead I had spent most of my first week working with Leslie and Sarah on my girl lessons, and being pestered by Julia for teasing her brother. As though I would do that on purpose.

Now it was Monday, and we had been excused from classes for the day so that we could take care of 'important Princess business,' which I was rapidly discovering was code speak for 'trying on dresses.' The school had decided that we should begin attending practices for some of the sports teams on a rotating basis to see how it would affect their performance at events, and the soccer team had naturally been selected as the first to try it out on. Since their practices began that afternoon, we only had a few hours for the tailor to prepare our outfits.

Cheerleader outfits. Of course. I was beginning to wonder why I had ever worried about how short Leslie's skirt had been when they were going to stick us in little more than belts for some of our other outfits, when Julia brought another question to the forefront.

"So, does anybody have any ideas for who to ask to be our freshman Princesses?"

The question caused me to jump, which also caused me to yelp when the tailor not-so-accidentally jabbed me with a pin in response. I had completely forgotten about selecting more Princesses!

"Well, I think we should ask that Harvey kid, what's his first name?"

"Wilson," I said.

"Yeah, him. He looks like he'd be able to pass fairly well, and judging from his reactions to the rest of us he at least isn't disturbed by us."

Julia nodded. "Okay, that's one. Any more?"

Amanda raised her hand, drawing a glare from her tailor that she ignored. "Bradley Tate."

"The tall kid with the pierced ears?" Julia asked, and Amanda nodded. "Why him."

"Because I've overheard him talking to a few other people, and I think he might be like Sarah."

We all looked over at Sarah, and she blushed.

"Why do you think that?" Julia pressed, egging Amanda on.

"I'm not sure exactly, I just do."

"Sarah?"

Sarah thought for a moment. "It can't hurt, but don't push him."

Julia grinned. "Who, me?"

I was sure Sarah was about to say something else when Danielle butted in. "That's three, we need at least one more to ask. What do you think, Becky?"

"Huh?"

"She asked who you thought would make a good Princess."

"Oh." I paused. "I don't know, I'd have to think about it for a little while. Can I get back to you on that?"

"It's not a huge rush," Leslie said. "We've got enough candidates for the moment, so take your time. Ow!"

"You boys should stop moving around and let us finish our work!" The seamstress in charge of overseeing our costumes said through a mouth full of pins. "It's hard enough getting the clothes to look right on your lanky frames, if you keep fidgeting we'll never get done!"

Our talks turned to the rest of our costumes for the rest of the session. In addition to the cheerleader outfits, which none of us seemed to be very pleased with I was happy to note, there were four other costumes already planned for events within the next two months.

Two outfits would be for the school's first drama performance, which would be at the end of September; we were doing West Side Story, with Sarah in the lead as Maria and the rest of us filling in as her entourage. The flamenco dresses were beautiful, but looked like they would be hell under the hot lights of the stage, while the more casual outfits for each of us seemed incredibly constricting, and I was most definitely not looking forward to learning to dance in the heels.

One of the other two costumes was a cocktail dress. Why would we need something like that? Apparently part of the Princess program for this year was to include etiquette lessons. While the lessons were to be taught to all the students, those of us in the Princess program would have a special role, as we received extra sessions on being ladylike so we could serve as practice partners for the other boys. Unfortunately, while they could get away with wearing their school uniforms for the lessons, we were expected to go the extra mile and dress up nicely.

And finally, the final costumes were for Halloween. I had thought that a private school would be more uptight about the students being in uniform for all classes, but it was apparently a tradition that the entire school would break dress code and don costumes for Halloween. Rather than letting the Princesses pick their own, though, ours were voted on by the student body...

And the student body had chosen the Salem Witches. I had been unlucky enough to draw Vampwitch, and I had been too busy staring dumbfounded at the result to notice who drew the other girls. I suppose it could have been worse -- from what the rest of the girls said, the year before they had dressed up as the Disney Princesses, and we had decided that the first three freshmen to agree to the program would be dressing as the Powerpuff Girls, since there weren't enough Witches to go around.

I really dreaded what they would have us wearing near Christmas.

It only took the tailors a couple of hours to prepare all five costumes for their first round of alterations, but I had been warned by the others not to expect the fittings to be over. I was more than thankful for the break we had, and as soon as I was able to change I escaped to the relative safety of my afternoon classes.

"Good to see you finally arrive, Ms. Daniels."

"Thank you, Professor Cooper."

Professor Cooper was probably my favorite teacher at the school so far, and I always enjoyed his class. Perhaps it was because he was the first of the professors I had met after 'Ol' Swifty,' but I think it was more because of how much he obviously enjoyed his work. The only downside was that Bobby, who I continued to sit next to, would always take every opportunity to tease me about Andrew, who I found out had ended up being his roommate. I considered Bobby a friend, but he could be quite aggravating in his persistent teasing.

I sat down, smoothing my skirt as best I could and cursing the need to keep my knees pressed together.

"I thought you were gonna wear the boys' uniform today?"

I glared at Bobby, who was grinning like a fool. "I was. But 'Princess duties are required to be carried out in appropriate dress,' so I didn't have a choice today." I sighed in exasperation. "Trust me, I'd much rather be wearing pants right now." Most of the rest of the Princesses agreed with me that the boys' uniform was much easier to deal with on a day to day basis, and I was definitely not the only one who got upset when we were told that we had to dress up again on the first day we were supposed to have free. At least we were allowed to attend some of the sports events as boys.

"Ahem."

"Sorry, Professor Cooper," we both said at once, turning back to class.

After Math was the period the school had reserved for the etiquette classes that all the students would be starting within the next few months.

"Keep your feet in line as you walk! No slouching!"

"Yes, ma'am." We Princesses chimed in unison, even as I heard the distinctive sound of another book thudding to the floor as it fell off some hapless girl's head.

As a normal boy, I would be having a study period right then, but because I had agreed to the Princess program I was instead learning how to properly handle the women's side of the different bits of social formality.

"No, no no! Move GRACEfully, like a ribbon adrift on the wind. Not like some bull elephant stomping around a trinket shop!"

"No, ma'am."

The plan was for us to learn the men's side through observing it rather than practicing it as we worked with the rest of the boys to teach them things like how to properly pull out a chair for a date and things like that. Personally, I was worried that we would be stuck with even more feminine mannerisms than the other Princesses already complained about, but I guess that was part of the tradeoff on the job.

"Remember, let the men do all the work. The lady is supposed to be there to be seen and admired. We don't want you parading around like hussies, giving our school a bad name!"

I was less than sure the old hag they had teaching us even knew we were actually boys, to boot.

"I shall make proper ladies of you boys yet!"

Then again, I could have been wrong.

And finally, after almost an hour of walking in heels balancing books on our heads, learning how to sit and stand and too many other silly little things to count, we came to drama, or, as I liked to call it, 'Insanity 101.' For the moment Professor Grumby had us doing acting exercises together to build teamwork and timing, which I found rather fun to be honest. Or I would, if it weren't for a late addition to the class who happened to be my practice partner.

"Hi, Becky."

"Andrew."

It almost made me wish for the old hag again.

Please, try not to misunderstand, I do like Andrew. He is a nice guy, and when we can be relaxed around each other he's a lot of fun to talk to. The problem is that ever since that first day of classes, things have grown more and more awkward between us, and I could not for the life of me figure out why. As a result I spent most of the day avoiding him, but where Drama class came in that was impossible.

Today's acting game had us all standing in a circle with one partner on the inside and the other on the outside. Those of us on the inside all had props, and as the Professor would blow his whistle we would pass the prop to the left to the next person in the line. Meanwhile, we had to act out a scene with our partner across from us, utilizing the prop in some way. The Professor blew his whistle, and I looked down at the prop in my hands. "So, uh..."

"That's some spoon." He said with a grin.

"... Yeah."

"What are you going to use it for?"

"Eating?"

"Oh. That's cool."

"Thanks."

Awkward silence.

"TWEEEEET."

I passed on the spoon, hoping for something better this time around.

"TWEEEEET."

Andrew scratched his head nervously.

"Are those your socks?"

"No, I'm just holding on to them for someone."

That's the way it always was during Drama between me and Andrew. What made it worse was that I knew he could be one of the more active members of our class whenever I was elsewhere, even if other Princesses were around, so it was obviously just me.

"What's so different now from the first day we met?"

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"TWEEEEET."

-11-

Tuesday morning broke bright and early, and after stretching and yawning, I waited for my brain to reboot.

Tuesday.

No Princess duties.

I can wear the boys' uniform today.

I barely managed to keep myself from jumping up and down on my bed in happiness. After almost a whole week of wearing nothing but skirts, blouses, dresses, and other bits of feminine clothing, including over the weekend at Leslie's suggestion and Sarah's begging, I was incredibly excited to be wearing something of my own other than my pajamas. At Leslie's recommendation I had used one closet for my boy's clothing and one for my girl's, on the basis that it would be embarrassing to show up to school wearing most of a boy's uniform but with a blouse or girl's blazer. With a huge grin on my face I rushed to my closet and pulled out a uniform, this time from the boy's side of my clothes.

By the time I finished dressing, I was unsure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, or punch something. I had thought it would be easier dressing as a boy -- scratch that, dressing normally for classes. Instead, I found myself feeling very uncomfortable. All the time in the short skirts made the heavy slacks seem hot and confining. I was momentarily thrown when buttoning my shirt because the buttons were on the opposite side from what I had grown accustomed to. My shoes, which I had almost forgotten to wear in favor of the loafers sitting next to the door, were tight and uncomfortable compared to the girl's shoes I had by now already begun to break in.

And worst of all, I had barely caught myself before going through my morning makeup and hair routine.

After donning the school blazer, again with a disturbing feeling of discomfort in its fit, I turned to the mirror and scowled at my reflection. After spending so much time as Becky, it no longer mattered what I was wearing, I could still see her there. Perhaps it was the cleaner eyebrows that Sarah had suggested, or maybe it was the small traces of eyeliner and mascara that no matter how hard I scrubbed I could never seem to get to completely disappear, or the slight tinge to my lips left over from the lipstick and lip gloss that I found myself licking my lips and missing the taste of even as I hated myself for it. What was this job doing to me? I idly began to finger comb my hair, trying to get it to look nicer, before growling at myself and shaking my head vigorously. Boys were supposed to have messy hair.

There was a quick rapping at my door, followed by, "Hey! You ready?"

I was confused for a moment, as I did not recognize the voice, but shrugged and called, "coming!"

When I opened the door there stood a boy shorter than me by a couple of inches, his black hair kept neat in a military style crew cut and looking very uncomfortable in his clothes. He gave me a once over, smirked, and asked, "so, ready for breakfast?"

"Umm, do I know you?"

A shocked look crossed the boy's face for a second, then he began to laugh in a very familiar way. "You mean you don't recognize me?" He asked, in a much different and far more familiar voice.

I jumped in surprise. "Leslie?"

He nodded. "The one and only," he said, holding out his hand.

I shook it with a grin. "You look... different." I said, understating the truth of it. He had obviously decided not to shave this morning, and sported just the beginnings of a beard shadow on his cheeks and chin, with a single, small diamond stud in one ear instead of the hoops I had come to associate with my 'big sister.'

He gave me a slap on the back, knocking me forward almost a foot. "I told you it was a lot more work for me to pull off the Princess thing than it was when I started. Now do you believe me?"

We talked as we walked to breakfast that morning, exchanging stories about things that happened to us at our old schools and what was different about Kingston Academy so far, being careful to avoid any mention of the Princess program.

By the time we reached breakfast, I was in a daze. Was this really the same Leslie that I knew? 'Leslie' the boy's mannerisms and speech were so different than 'Leslie' the girl that I had to constantly remind myself it was the same person. Or was he really that different? Definitely more, well, aggressive is not the word. Boisterous? Perhaps. There were still traces of the girl, in the occasional feminine gesture or movement, but overall the change was... uncanny.

Any further contemplation of Leslie's differences was cut short when I reached our normal table only to find it populated by complete strangers save for Sarah, who looked almost as uncomfortable and out of place as I felt.

I was reintroduced to the people I had thought I knew. Jules, now Julian, was pretty much the same save his appearance, but the others looked and acted almost as drastically different as Leslie.

"So, are you happy to be back in more normal stuff?" Amos, formerly Amanda, asked me as I stood locked up, wanting to sit down and fighting the urge to smooth my skirt before doing so.

"Uh, yeah. It's definitely different after the last week."

He gave a barking laugh then nodded. "Yeah, that's why the school decided on choosing freshman Princesses after the first week was already over, so they had time to get used to being guys around school before doing the whole Princess thing. It was supposed to cut down on the whole awkwardness thing with their peers."

I nodded, wondering for the first time in almost a week why it had been so imperative that they had me on the first day.

"It was different in your case," Sarah said, as though she had read my mind.

"Yeah," Kylie-now-Kirk said through a mouthful of bacon. "From what I heard, the Head thought that it would be better to go ahead and ask you if you wanted to join the program so that you could have the benefits, since everyone who saw you on the tour had already decided to treat you like one, and Ol' Swifty sending Leslie as your escort didn't help any."

I wanted to argue with something, anything, that they had said, but instead just sighed in resignation. I had determined as much myself, and Professor Swift had been a thorn in my side ever since, picking on me both in class and in the hallways at every opportunity. Besides, what did I have to complain about? The Princess program was paying me better than I could have hoped for from another on campus job, and it had enough other perks to make up for any problems I had come across so far.

"But enough about the Princess stuff, please," Dante/Danielle said, "I am sick of it for now, and want a couple of days at least without having to worry about it."

"Etiquette classes," Leslie said, quietly, at the same time as Julian poked Dante in the side and said, "Drama."

"Dammit!" Dante said, then gave a fake sob and banged his head into the table a couple of times. A couple of the others laughed.

I turned and looked to Sarah, who shrugged and quietly went back to her food.

"Oh, hey, Sarah?" I heard Leslie ask.

"Yeah?"

"I've got this weekend approved to go into town too, so, if you want to go in together, maybe we can go see a movie or something?"

Sarah blushed, but nodded, and when I looked over, Leslie had a goofy grin on his face.

I had to smile. It had become obvious shortly after I joined the program that Leslie and Sarah liked each other a lot, and after I pointed out how obvious it was to Leslie she... shoot. HE had opened up to me about how interested he was in her.

I was sidetracked for a few minutes by trying to figure out pronouns in reference to how Princesses are dressed at the time of events versus present presentation, only to be startled when the end of breakfast bell began to ring and everyone stood from the table.

I hoped that things would be a little more normal for the rest of the day, but I knew better than to hold out much hope.

-12-

As was typical in my life, my pessimism had proven well founded. Throughout my classes, none of my teachers seemed to take notice of my wearing the boys' uniform and constantly referred to me as "Becky," to many of the other students' amusement. After my third class, I even stopped trying to correct them.

I don't know what I had been expecting exactly from my fellow students, but it almost felt like there was no difference in how they treated me. Was it because even when dressed as a boy they knew I was one of the Princesses? The more I paid attention, the more I doubted it. When I had the opportunity I watched how they acted around Leslie and the others now that they were dressed as boys, and they seemed to treat them just like regular guys, but as soon as I came around they would open doors, or clear seats, or simply smile at me, just like before.

Then it hit me. The others were all acting much more masculine than they did when dressed as Princesses, and most had gone to great lengths to distance their appearance from how they looked as Princesses. Leslie had the short black hair and stubble, Amos's head was completely shaved smooth, and Dante and Julian both had their hair back in low ponytails with stubble similar to Leslie's. They were also wearing baggier uniforms, making them appear somewhat bulkier than usual, while I was wearing my fitted uniform with my hair clean and loose, though messy, and with no kind of facial hair growth to speak of. Add to that I knew I had a more girlish face than any of the others, and I had the reason I was still being treated like a Princess.

Now if only I knew what to do about it.

I could always try acting more typically boyish, but I had no plans to change something like that so people would see me differently. As odd as it may sound coming from someone who had agreed to pretend to be a girl for part of their school career in exchange for monetary compensation, no part of that agreement had included changing the way I act, the etiquette lessons not really counting since in the long run everybody would be taking them. Watching the others again, it became more obvious to me how much of their masculine fronts was just that, a front. When they thought no one was paying attention, they would slip, and let the people I had come to know and consider friends show through.

Seeing that was enough to convince me that I might as well just deal with the rest of the school thinking of me as "Becky" all the time. So what? I got paid for it, and I had enough of hiding who I was and how I felt about things when I was living with my stepfather and the rest of them. I had just come to this decision when another positive of the day popped up.

"How're you doing today?"

"Huh? Oh, Andrew."

He grinned at me. "The one and only. Hey, see you at Drama, right Beck?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

I made it two steps away before I realized that Andrew had not seemed the least bit nervous when he had talked to me. What the heck was that all about? I shrugged it off, but determined that I had to find out later.

The chance came during Drama, when we were finally handed out our copies of the script for "West Side Story". "Today I want you to start reading through the script with your partner, each taking half the characters and reading their part," Professor Grumby said while waving one of the small red booklets around. "Naturally those of you who are partnered with our Princesses will have an easier time of splitting the roles up," he said, and most of the rest of the class laughed, though I saw Dante and Amos frown.

Andrew and I took over one of the corners of the auditorium, settling ourselves into the stage seating and began to read. It seemed that the nervousness had returned to Andrew, though, and after only a couple of pages of the read-through I told him to stop.

"Andrew... WHY do I make you nervous?" I asked him. "You were friendly when we first met, and seemed to be even after the... what happened, that first day I was a Princess, but now it's like you're scared to talk to me."

He shrugged, and mumbled something.

"Oh, come on. What is it?"

He looked at me with a pained expression. "You swear you won't get mad?"

"No."

"...That's fair. Truth is... I get nervous around girls."

I blinked.

"You there?" He asked me, when I failed to respond.

"What?"

"I asked if-"

"No, you're nervous around girls? I'm not a girl!" I gestured at my uniform. "Do I look like a girl?"

He looked away without answering, giving me his answer.

I ignored him and continued. "But you seemed alright earlier today?"

"Well, yeah. Like this, it's easier to ignore, so I could just kinda see you as a guy earlier, but now you're pretending to be a girl again, and-"

"But I'm not-"

"Hold it!" He said, putting his hand in front of my face. I stopped. "Whew. Okay. I know you're not a girl. But, as much as it may upset you, you look like one, and you know this." I tried to speak again, but he waved me quiet again. "That wouldn't be a problem, except that for the last week you've been dressing as one as part of the whole Princess thing, so now it's stuck in my head. And you're not acting that different than you did then, and you don't look that different either. Earlier I was trying not to let it get to me, but right now you're reading the girl's parts."

"Which automatically equates to 'girl' in your head?"

"Well," he said, smiling, "it wouldn't if you looked like Bob or some of the other guys. Then it would be funny. But since you've spent the last week in a skirt..."

"Ah." I was starting to see. But what could I do about it. "Well, I guess you're just screwed then. I already decided that I'm not changing the way I act just so people treat me different. I was warned about some of the risks of the whole 'Princess' thing when I agreed to it. Now it's their problem not mine."

He thought about that, then nodded. "Alright." He held out his hand. "Well, I promise to try not to get too caught up on how you look in the future. I can't PROMISE anything..."

I shook his hand. "Good enough."

We went back to work on the play, and Andrew was noticeably easier in his reactions to me. It was a lot better, and we had a lot of fun reading the play. Afterward, on our way out of class, I pulled him off to the side.

"Hey, thanks."

He gave another one of those goofy grins of his and patted me lightly on the back. "No problem. Besides, I need to get used to being more relaxed around you if I'm going to be assigned to you as your Protector."

"True. Wait, what?"

But by then he was already gone.

(End of Part 4)

NOTES:

So now we see just how the Princess program affects its members, even outside of their duties.
Will Andrew become more comfortable with Beck/Becky?
What did he mean being 'assigned to you as your Protector?"
Will Beck's shoes ever get broken in, or is he destined to blisters for the rest of the year?

Tune in next time for "Princess For Hire Part 5: The Princess's Escort!"

And remember, if you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

Subnote:

Sorry for the delay and possible bad quality of this update. Things have been more than a little hectic the last couple of weeks for me, what with my roomie going to Australia on Wednesday, seven-day work weeks, and a whole host of other things.

Hollah at my home girl Zoe Taylor!

Melanie E.