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 13: A Princess With A Plan

-37-

"What do you mean nobody knows ANYTHING!"

I had never intended to yell, but apparently I had been, and with enough force that even Jules took a step back from me, his eyes wide in shock.

"We-well," he stammered about, before regaining his cool and glaring at me. "We tried! It's not like you've been any help, and this is your project!"

I rubbed my temples and squeezed my eyes closed, trying to calm down. He was right, but since returning from Thanksgiving break I had hardly had time to sit down, let alone invest any time into researching Professor Swift's past. With Sarah out of the running for the female lead, I had of course been drafted into the role of Lady Macbeth, which also happened to be the only female role in the entire play that required extensive costume fittings for what the director wanted to do. To top it off, my weekends had been filled with even more dance lessons, at Sarah's request. Combined with my regular classes and all the other Princess duties, free time was scarce.

I was about to turn the floor over to Jules for the next part of the meeting when an unexpected form popped up in the doorway.

"I might have some information you'll find useful," Mr. Uchiha said as he settled into one of the desks in the front row and gave me his friendly smile.

"Really?" I asked, surprised. I had had no idea he had even been aware of my plans to find out Swifty's problem.

"Indeed. After all, you're not the only person who wants this... straightened out in as equitable a manner as possible."

I nodded.

Mr. Uchiha pushed his glasses back up on his nose then came to the front of the classroom and stood beside me. With a small spin he stood, facing the rest of the princesses as though preparing to give a speech. "Mr. Ronald Swift attended out school some years ago. He graduated in the top of his class, and from what I've heard you already know about his college career. Upon graduating from college, he returned here and joined our staff, and for the past ten years has served admirably."

"Admirably? But he's always so mean to us."

The smile that had been plastered on Mr. Uchiha's face faltered. "I know. I wish I knew why myself. He always had a bit of a hard nosed streak, but it seemed to increase dramatically when the Princess Program was introduced. No one has been able to ascertain his reasons, though. That's really all I can say."

"Thank you, sir," I said, offering him my hand as I digested what he had just told us.

"You're most welcome. And if it comes up, you didn't hear any of that from me."

"Understood, sir," I said with a grin, as he walked out of the room, whistling merrily. The more I talked to him, the more the Headmaster surprised me.

With that out of the way, the meeting returned to Jules's control, and while everyone else talked about the next pep rally and any plans people had for Christmas break, now only three weeks away, I grabbed Andrew, Leslie, and Sarah and pulled them off to the side.

I leaned in close, pulling them all down with me. "I really want to figure out what's up with the Professor before the end of next semester."

"I agree," Leslie said, with a frown. "The other day he tried to send me to the office for wearing a skirt on a non-Princess day."

"Why were you wearing a skirt on a day you didn't have to?"

He glanced guiltily in Sarah's direction, causing her to blush, and I had my answer. She had told me about their occasional "sleepovers" over Thanksgiving break, and I had found it prudent not to ask exactly went on.

"I think I have an idea," Andrew said.

"Well, what it is?" I asked when he failed to continue.

"Huh?"

"What is it!"

He grinned and mussed my hair, then laughed when I scowled at him. "Ease up, Becky. It'll take some work, but I'll see if I can track down anything on what he did while at college. Where'd he go again?"

"I dunno. Penn State? I can't remember."

He nodded. "I'll find out, and get a friend of mine who's good with computers on it."

"Who?" I asked, curious.

"Stewart."

"Ah." I got it. It figured. "You don't think he'll get in trouble, do you?"

"Nah, I've watched him do some stuff. I have no idea what he did, but he was good at it. Besides, he wants to figure out Ol' Swifty as much as any of us."

"Ooh, yeah," Sarah said, flinching.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, I was just remembering something that happened to him last year in Professor Swift's class."

"Well?"

She hesitated. "I don't think I should say. He should tell it himself, since I only heard about it through rumors."

That settled, we returned out attention to the meeting. I had a new ally, and a plan of action that would hopefully give us something useful.

Whether it would be soon enough to matter, that was still up for grabs.

-38-

"It's too small," I wheezed out as the seamstress continued to tug and pull on the material wrapped around me, cutting into my middle.

"It's not too small, you're too big. We can fix that."

"Nooo," I whined quietly. "Not another corset."

"Oh, of course not. We'll just use a waist nipper this time around; you don't need the full corset any more, with all the weight you've lost."

"I've lost weight?" Not that it was too surprising. It was probably all the stress.

"Though we'll have to do something to give ya some cleavage, a dress like this kind of demands it."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked nervously.

"Well, we could do a corse-"

"-but you just said I didn't need a-"

"BUT," she cut me off, threatening me with a pin, "I think we should consider glue on forms. That way we could also use them next time you have a costume that needs cleavage."

"Is it really necessary?"

She glared at me in response.

I sighed. "Alright. How much?"

"Comped by the school, since it's for a performance."

That made me feel a little better at least.

"Alright. Do it."

"Good."

I had been considering getting forms on Miss Sakaki's recommendation anyhow, but I had wanted to hold off and talk to my dad about it first. There was something about it that made it seem like a big decision, and just deciding arbitrarily to get them felt... wrong, somehow.

"Here they are."

"Already?" I asked, then it dawned on me. "You'd already ordered them."

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Because I knew you wouldn't want to wear the corset."

The fitting for the day finished up quickly after that, and with any luck the only fitting I would have left would be the one on the day of the performance. I chose to leave the forms in the fitting room for the moment, feeling I needed to think about the implications of having them for a while before taking them back to my room with me.

With classes finished, I returned to my room and did exactly that.

As I seemed to spend so much time the last few months doing, I stood in front of my mirror and stared at myself, studying my reflection. Would the forms really make enough of a difference between me as a boy and me as a girl to matter? That was the question.

I recalled the physical I had been given shortly before heading out for the school. The doctor had told me I was five feet seven inches tall, and a whole one hundred and thirty pounds. Had I really lost weight? I did not think so, but I did look skinnier than I had before coming to school? Maybe I was taller? With no tape measure or ruler available, nor a scale, I had no way of knowing.

One thing that I knew had not changed though was my face. The same nose, small and slightly upturned, the same eyes, the same mouth and narrow chin. My hair was longer than it had been, and probably better kept. My nails were short, but better kept as well, and only now did I notice that I still had a small bit of red polish around the base of my cuticles.

I looked at myself. I looked at myself, and I knew in my heart that even if the false breasts made a noticeable difference in my appearance, most people would still see a girl no matter how I looked. I had fought against it for a long time, and tried to tell myself that it was not true, but being around the other Princesses had opened my eyes, and I could no longer ignore it.

I looked like a girl.

For a brief moment, I entertained the frightening thought that maybe, just maybe, I was a girl, and the problem lay elsewhere, but I quickly dismissed that thought. After all, screwed up biology had nothing to do with my stepbrother bashing me in the face with a bat. Dumb luck or cruel fate, maybe, but not biology. I stripped off my shirt and pants, until I was standing there in nothing but my briefs, and continued to study myself. I was skinny, and mostly a uniform pasty white except for my face and the lower half of my arms and legs. My ribs stuck out, and I could see the bones of my hips. Was I not eating enough? Regardless, there was little if any "figure" there that would define me either way. My shoulders, while not broad and powerful, were not exceptionally narrow or sloped either.

"So," I asked myself aloud as I poked my side. "What if I had breasts?"

I imagined myself with the false breasts I had borrowed from Sarah glued to my chest, and had to laugh at the mismatch in tones. Then I thought of the ones that the seamstress had brought out, and I shuddered. They had not been perfect, but they had been far closer than I had imagined they would be, and a bit larger than I had expected too. "B" cup, I believe she had said. I thought back to my reflection in the mirror during the fitting, with them sitting perched proudly in the dress, and tried to imagine them on me without the dress holding them up.

I squeezed my eyes closed, but that was the bad part about imagining things -- shutting your eyes never helps to block the vision.

They would make a difference, that was for sure. But they would never help to change people's views.

With one of my patented heavy sighs I dressed myself again. Looking in the mirror one last time, I tried to see a boy, or a girl, or even something between the two. Instead, I just saw me, and I was unsure whether that was comforting or not.

-39-

"What's eating you today?"

"Huh?"

*SMACK*

"OW! What was that for?" I asked Jules, rubbing the back of my head furiously as I glared at him.

"You've been absorbed in something ever since you came in. So, what is it?"

"Nothing."

I was not expecting him to put his arm around my shoulder, but he did. "Hey, I'm sorry about smacking you in the head, but it wasn't THAT hard. You know you can talk to us, okay?"

"...Yeah. Sorry. I just... I need to think on it myself for a while, you know?"

"Sure thing. But when you're ready, I'll be available if you need to talk. You're practically my sister in law anyhow."

"Hey!" Andrew and I said at the same time. Jules just grinned back in response and turned back to his food, saying nothing.

I chose to just leave it alone, but Andrew it seemed did not have the willpower.

"We're not dating, Jules."

"Nope. You just escort her everywhere."

"I'm in boy mode today, Jules."

"My bad."

"Yeah, right."

"Well, ever since Thanksgiving you have kinda been more in the middle. I mean, you were always pretty bi, er, that's not the right word..." Amos thought for a moment, then gave up and gave me an apologetic shrug.

"Have not!"

"Have too!" Jules said with a smirk.

"Have not." I said, much more quietly, and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Enough you two," Sarah said, setting her own tray down. "So Beck, did you get a chance to ask your dad yet?"

"No, not yet."

"Ask him what?" Andrew asked.

"Oh! Sarah invited me and my dad to her place for Christmas, to save him the airfare here and back multiple times."

"Cool. Can I come?"

"Umm... no."

"Aww."

I gave Andrew a light punch in the arm, then went back to my own food, letting everyone else talk while I sat back and thought again, though this time on something other than fake boobs.

Jules's teasing me about Andrew had been getting worse lately, and I was unsure what to do about it. I looked over at Andrew, smiling and laughing with Bobby and some of the other Protectors who had taken to eating most meals with us, and contemplated our relationship.

Was there a relationship? Not in the romantic sense, but dealing with Andrew was the closest I had ever come to dating someone. Whenever I went on a trip into town, he was there, or to any event as a Princess, and even most of the time when I went as just me. We would joke around with one another, and when I went as a girl he would occasionally wrap his arm around my shoulder or something in a goofy manner, making a joke of it.

Was it really a joke, though? I needed to talk to someone about this. Sarah must have caught my turmoil, because she just nodded and pointed to her watch, then held up nine fingers. Nine o'clock tonight, in other words, she would come by to talk.

It could not come quickly enough.

I finished up what I could, then wished the rest of the table a goodnight. I started to head to my room, but on the way I remembered how much I truly did need to call my dad and ask him what he wanted to do, so instead I made a detour for the lobby phone.

Six rings later, the phone was picked up.

"Hello?" A gruff voice I didn't recognize asked.

"Uh, is Mr. Henderson there?"

The voice laughed. "Yeah, hold on." I heard the phone shift, then the voice call out as though from a ways away, "honey, someone on the line for you."

A few seconds later, there was more shifting, then I heard my dad ask breathlessly, "hello?"

"Hey, dad."

"Beck! It's my son, sorry, that was Mitch, my, uh..."

"Boyfriend?" I asked, and I hoped he could hear the smile in my voice. "Dad, are you saying you're gay?"

There was a pause for a moment, then I heard laughter roaring down the line.

Finally, it stopped, and I had to ask. "Dad, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, choking. "I'm fine. Sorry."

"It's alright. Why were you nervous?"

"You know? I don't know. So, what's up?"

"Well, dad, I have a question for you. See, Sarah had this idea..."

(End of Part 13)

END NOTES:

Okay, I think I'm gonna have to cancel my month-long break I was expecting to take. Not because I wouldn't like to take it, mind you. Mostly because even after just ONE WEEK of not working on this, it was tough work getting back to it, and I'm still not sure I caught the style right. So, I think that even if I do take a month off from posting, during that time I need to keep up writing on this story steadily until I get to the end, that way I'll have a bit of a buffer if I need one, and I don't lose sight of how things need to go.

That being said, the story should be back on track now. It took a lot of thinking to figure out where I wanted to go with this chapter, or even when I wanted it set. In the end, I set it about two weeks or so after their return from Thanksgiving Break, meaning that there are maybe two more chapters before the Christmas break, then whatever, if anything, I decide to write for over the break, followed by the second semester. I might even do the second semester as a new story and reset the chapter numbers, something like "Princess For Hire: Second Semester." So creative, no?

If you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

Melanie E.