Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Part 10: Princess On Parade

-28-

Even after spending nearly eight months as a Princess the idea of riding through the middle of Persistence in a dress had me scared to death.

It wasn't so much the being on the float part that scared me: we had a stool built for me to lean against if I needed to, and one of my feet was held firmly in place thanks to a water ski-styled strap, painted close enough to the color of my shoes not to stand out too badly. It also wasn't the fact that I was a boy dressed as a girl, standing on a float for an all-boy's school decked out to the nines and having to wave merrily to the townsfolk as we rolled past with a phony smile plastered on my face.

No, what bothered me about it all was the dress itself.

For one thing, it was HEAVY. Made of velvet, the entire dress was emerald green and hung down nearly to the platform I stood on, less than an inch of space separating the two. There were no petticoats or anything like the wedding dress Sarah had wanted: instead, there was a silk lining sewn into the dress that almost made me wish I'd agreed to the lightweight taffeta and lace. Sure, it was warm, but now that spring was approaching that was less of a good thing too, and I had been more than happy to ditch the matching cape even before the parade had started.

It was long-sleeved, with those loops that go over your fingers as well, but it was also off the shoulder, and showed much too much of my chest for my comfort. I wanted to constantly pull the chest up to cover more, but after repeated needle stabs during the fittings and a good amount of yelling from the school's seamstress I had managed to at least keep that habit at bay. Still, the dress felt like it was constantly on the verge of sliding down around my hips.

Oh, and I had to wear one of those stupid corsets again to get it on in the first place.

All in all, I felt like I was a pair of heels and a misstep away from pure hell. Yes, I'd managed to talk them out of heels, instead wearing a pair of nice boots that went surprisingly well with the court dress. The concession I'd had to make in exchange was twofold: one, I had to wear a tiara, which I had pretty much expected given my role as a Princess anyway, and two, I had to agree to an extra last-minute activity Jules had come up with.

No longer was our school only handing out information on LGBT rights and acceptance, oh no. Now there was a raffle, too. The prize? Dinner with a Princess.

Which Princess? Guess.

Jules was so going to pay for that.

Despite how uncomfortable I was – or, perhaps, because of it – I focused as hard as I could on ignoring everything but my duties as the official representative of the school's Princess program. I simply had to remind myself that I was getting paid to do this, and from the smiles and waves I was getting back from the crowd it seemed they were enjoying it too. Still, I vowed that next year someone else could ride the float, and I would work on anything else in the sure knowledge that no matter how bad things got, they couldn't be as awful as a sweaty dress, a corset, and a slowly building case of motion sickness.

I was positively ecstatic when the parade floats finally finished their run. Andrew was there to greet me, and I was too impatient to even wait for the stepladder I knew they had waiting to help me get down, instead grabbing his hands and giving a small hop to get to the ground, dress be damned.

“Hi,” Andrew said once I'd regained my balance, not letting go of my hands.

“Hi back,” I answered with a smile, looking up into his eyes.

It had been less than a week since I'd rushed into his room and we'd made up, and neither of us had completely gotten over our awkwardness together again yet. I saw him start to lean toward me, then hesitate, like he was scared of how I would react if he kissed me in public. I was nervous, too, but I tried my best to ignore that as I lifted up on my toes and closed the distance myself, giving him a light peck on the lips before settling back on my heels again. He gave me a goofy grin at that, then pulled me toward him and into a much-needed hug.

If there was one feminine thing I would never complain about, it would be hugs. I had always loved them, and being able to give and receive them so freely now was an amazing thing.

After a few moments of just standing there in our hug a quiet “ahem” from behind reminded me that we weren't alone, so I reluctantly let go. Andrew kept one arm wrapped around my waist, though, so I slid around to his side and wrapped my own arm around him too.

“How do you feel?” He asked me as we walked away from the float, leaving it to the rest of the team to disassemble.

I groaned. “Tired. A little dizzy. My feet hurt, this corset's riding up, my tights are riding down, and it feels like it's two hundred degrees in this dress,” I said, picking at the offending garment.

“Well, hey, look on the bright side.”

“The bright side?” I asked, looking up at him.

“Sure! It could've been me,” he said with a grimace, and just the image of that in my head made me snort, then start to laugh.

“No, no it couldn't!” I said, giving him a small shove with my free hand, though not enough to push us apart.

“Okay, maybe not,” he agreed, squeezing me slightly again. “Besides, you look hot in a corset.”

I just shook my head at him in disbelief. “Perv.”

Andrew shrugged. “I'm a guy. We're all pervs.”

I decided not to argue with him there, though I did feel a twinge of bother that he seemed to not include me in that group, at least until I reminded myself about the whole gender-thing I was pulling.

“So,” he interrupted my thoughts, giving me another squeeze as we walked. “Ready to head out and check out the booths and things?”

“Hah! I wish,” I answered with a roll of my eyes. “I'm supposed to have a few photos taken with some of the other float participants, then I need to change into my other outfit and go work the school's booth.”

“Other outfit?” He asked, giving my dress another look. “What other outfit?”

I grinned, finally getting a chance to use a line I'd heard plenty of times since arriving at the school. “You'll find out soon enough.”

Andrew didn't seem any happier with it than I had ever been.

-29-

The photos went quickly, with most of the other float riders just as ready to get out of their costumes or out on the street as I was. I gave our float, already being disassembled, one last glance before I headed back into the changing area that had been set aside for us all. I felt momentarily guilty about not helping with the clean-up, since the float was supposed to be part of my duties for the parade, but most of the rest of the float team seemed just as happy to have me out of the way: not that I could really blame them, given my track record with the float on the whole.

Besides, it wasn't like I was getting off easy, anyhow.

I gave my second costume of the day an unenthusiastic once-over before unzipping my dress, debating if it was even worth changing. Then again, I had been threatened by the seamstress that if anything happened to the velvet dress I would spend the next several months without a dime to my name paying the school back for it, so I supposed the new costume would have to do.

Somehow, that didn't help me feel better about it.

I changed as quickly as possible, vowing to do something nasty to the seamstress for giving me two corset-required costumes in a row, then zipped the velvet dress into its bag and stepped out of the room, just waiting to be laughed at.

Andrew's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw me. “You're wearing... THAT?!”

I couldn't help it, I pouted. Instead of just standing there like an idiot, though, I instead walked past him and toward the doors, hoping to get the rest of the embarrassment out of the way as soon as possible.

“Hey, wait up!”

“I didn't think you'd want to be seen with me, not while I was wearing this,” I muttered as I continued to stomp off, not even waiting for him to catch up.

“What? Why?”

“Because I look stupid!” I groaned. “I look like some booth babe at a geek convention.”

“Well, isn't that what you're about to be? A booth babe, I mean?” He asked, freezing in place when I spun around and glared at him. “Hey! I think it looks good on you!”

I gave myself a quick glance, then rolled my eyes. “You would,” I said angrily, but tried to soften up the impact by following it with a smile.

Andrew grinned right back at me as he closed the distance between us, wrapping his arm around my waist again. “I thought sexy leprechauns were supposed to have red hair.”

“Hah! Leslie and some of the others might not mind wearing wigs, but there's no way in heck you'll ever get one of those things on me, and I'm not about to go to all the trouble of bleaching then dying my hair just for a Saint Patrick's Day costume.”

“That's good, because I like your hair just the way it is.”

I didn't know what to say to that, so instead of saying anything I stood up on my tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a green lipstick mark.

Green was the prevailing color in everything I was wearing. The boots were the same as for the dress, along with the stockings and other under-things, but that was all topped by a white blouse with little puffed sleeves and a kelly green jumper/skirt thing with green fluffy petticoats that did nothing to make the skirt any more decent, since the entire thing ended a good three inches above my knees. I was even still wearing the silly tiara with its green stones in it, since it was part of the whole princess shtick. The long gown had been too warm: in this getup I knew I'd be shivering the first time a strong breeze blew by.

I tried to comfort myself with the knowledge that Sarah was wearing a near-identical outfit and had been all day, but since we were the only two Princesses dressed as such it really wasn't much of a comfort at all.

“Remind me again why I'm doing this?”

“Because Jules is a heartless bastard.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“On the plus side, people really seem to like what we're doing. We had a group of students from Persistence High stop by and grab some of our acceptance materials to walk around and hand out themselves.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Apparently Kingston isn't the only super-liberal school around here. Who knew?”

I shook my head, surprised by what Andrew was telling me. “I'd honestly expected us to catch a lot of flack for being deviants or something.”

“Oh, we've gotten that too,” Andrew said with a mischievous grin, “especially from some of the more conservative members of the town council. They tried to shut us down earlier.”

“What? They can't do that!”

“Yeah, I think they can, IF we were on city-owned property. Luckily for us the guy who owns the store we're set up in front of is an alumnus of the school, so he told us that if they pushed too much he'd just open up the store and move us in.” Andrew started to chuckle at that, obviously remembering something funny. I'd have to ask some of the others for more details later.

As we walked down the street toward where our own booth was set up I was amazed at the variety filling the sidewalks and plazas of downtown Persistence. I had thought it strange that St. Patrick's Day would be celebrated so much until Sarah had explained to me that not only was the town founded by a lot of Irish immigrants in the first place, but the town had officially been instated in March a hundred and fifty-something years ago as well. Because of this, everyone in town tended to treat St. Patrick's Day almost like a celebration of the town itself, hence closing off a couple of the streets downtown to vehicle traffic and filling them instead with games, snacks, and throngs of people looking to have a good time.

Next year, I vowed, I would get out and check out some of the sights. This year, though, I had a job to do, and I'd be darned if I would give Jules the satisfaction of seeing me complain about it.

Sarah and Jules were the only two people at the booth when we finally arrived, and as soon as she saw me Sarah rushed over and gave me a hug.

“Oh, thank god you're finally here! I really really need a break.”

“Hehe, no problem, Andrew and I can handle things for a bit. What do I gotta do?”

Sarah gave me an grateful look, then took my free hand and dragged me and Andrew behind the counter, pointing out where things were as she went. “Extra pamphlets are down here, we have another box of those rubber band rainbow bracelets, umm, here, but we're out of the glow sticks and necklaces. Some of the LGBT-friendly businesses have been leaving stacks of business cards with us, too, so those are over on that corner.”

“Gotcha,” I said, surveying the disarrayed stacks in front of me. “What about the raffle?” I asked, hoping that I could find an excuse to cut that off early and, maybe, never actually go through with it at all.

“Don't worry about the raffle,” Jules told me with a wicked grin. “Andrew and I will handle that.”

“But--”

“Trust me,” Sarah cut me off with a frown. “You don't wanna mess with it. They're raising good money with the tickets for the school's GSA, but some of the questions Jules and Stew have been fielding have almost sent me running away in tears.”

“Stew's here too?”

“He's on break. Which is where I'M heading, too,” Sarah said, giving me another quick squeeze. “Back in a couple of hours!”

With that, Andrew and I were left alone with Jules.

The job was simple enough, and between what I'd picked up from Sarah, what I'd read up on on my own, and what even a few things I'd found in the Kelly Brice papers I spent a lot of time answering questions, handing out leaflets and cards, and basically just talking to anyone who walked up about LGBT rights and Kingston Academy's stance on inclusiveness and tolerance. More than once I got questions about why the school didn't simply start admitting girls, and that was the one question I could never adequately answer, though I vowed to ask Mr. Uchiha that same question when I got the chance.

As for the raffle, I quickly learned just how right Sarah had been about it being best just to ignore it. There was a lot of interest, but more than once I heard people muttering less-than-flattering opinions about the whole thing, and after the third time Jules had to deny someone entry because of their attitude I tried my best to stay focused on my own work. I was a bit worried about what would happen if one of those people won the meal with me, but when I glanced over in Andrew's direction he just gave me a wink and held his hand up in the OK sign.

One hour passed, then two. Sarah showed back up nearly an hour late, but looking a lot less frazzled than she had been when we had first showed up, a funnel cake in each hand.

“These are for you guys,” she said, handing me one of the cakes and Andrew the other, “since I know that you didn't get a chance to walk around and check things out.”

“Wow, thanks!” Andrew said, taking his and stepping back from the counter.

“Thanks,” I echoed his comment, taking the plate from her and debating how best to eat the thing without messing up my outfit. Not for the first time that afternoon I wished I could have gotten away with my school uniform, like Andrew and Jules and everyone else, even if in my case that would have included a skirt.

“Here,” Sarah interrupted my thoughts, handing me a small package of plastic utensils.

“You're a life saver,” I told her, finding a corner where I could set the plate down and digging in.

“No, YOU are. If I'd been stuck standing here any longer...” she drifted off, giving a wistful glance over to where Leslie and some of our other fellow students were helping clean up one of the other booths. The St. Patrick's Day fair only had another hour or two before the booths would all need to close down so the streets could open back up and the adults could gear up for their own, alcohol-driven evening, and it was apparently tradition for the Kingston Academy students to help get the streets cleared before heading back to the school. “How much do we have left?”

“Not a lot,” I sighed, waving my hands over the scattered remnants of our carefully prepared booth. “A handful of business cards, about two dozen pamphlets, that's about it.”

“That's great! What about the raffle stuff?” Sarah asked Jules, who gave her a confident smirk.

“We sold all our tickets about half an hour ago. The drawing's in about forty-five minutes, and I've already got some of the guys spreading the word. Why don't you help Becky get ready for the big event?”

“You ready?” Sarah asked me, giving another nervous glance toward Jules. “That is, if you're still willing to go through with this.”

I gave Jules an angry glare. “Not like I have a lot of choice, is it?”

The smirk that had been on Jules' face drained away, replaced by a nervous frown. “You can still say no,” he said. “Everyone who's entered the raffle has a ticket stub, and we can issue refunds to anyone who wants one if you decide not to do this.” Then he grinned, the same confident grin he usually wore. “Or we could just offer them an alternative date. I've got my schoolgirl uniform handy if I need it too.”

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

Jules nodded, and for the third time his expression changed, this time being more serious than I had ever seen him. “This isn't slavery, Beck. I promise, though, we'll make sure you're safe with whoever wins.”

I looked at Jules, seeing the truth in his eyes. Then I glanced over at Andrew, who gave me another wink as he continued to munch on his funnel cake. There was something going on, I was sure of it.

Did I really want to quit and never find out what it was?

“Where can I get fixed up?” I asked Sarah as confidently as I could.

“Follow me, and I'll show ya.”

-30-

“You guys set me up,” I accused my dinner partner, staring at them across the table at Gizmo's while we waited for our food to arrive.

He laughed at me, taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his seat. “Of course it was a setup. You didn't think we would really put you in danger of having dinner with someone who wasn't comfortable with the Princess program, did you?”

I shook my head. “People are gonna be pissed when they figure out what you guys did.”

“Figure what out?”

“That you held a fake raffle.”

“The raffle wasn't fake,” my dinner party guest argued, his eyes twinkling with delight at my discomfort. “It was fixed. Big difference.”

“But why fix it in the first place?” I asked, desperate for our food to get to the table soon so I could get this over with and get back to the dorms.

“Because I wanted a chance to talk to you away from prying ears, or the restrictions of the school. Plus, it was the best way to get back at you.”

Jules and I stared at each other across the table, his look full of amusement, mine annoyance. The waitress stopped by with our appetizer, but neither of us made a move to eat anything as we continued our sparring match.

Finally, Jules gave me a wink that reminded me far too much of the ones I had gotten from Andrew earlier in the day, then reached out for the tray of appetizers, taking a loaded potato skin and munching on it thoughtfully.

“I was really pissed at you and Sarah at first, you know. The whole thing with Ruby, it got to me, I'm not gonna lie.”

I rolled my eyes, and took a potato skin of my own.

“You could have complained about the Saint Patrick's Day parade at any time and gotten out of it, but you didn't. Why?”

“Because I didn't want to give you the satisfaction,” I told him, giving him an icy glare.

To my surprise, Jules actually laughed.

“You know,” he continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone, “when you first arrived at the school I thought you'd be a lot of fun. You were so uptight about everything, I figured I'd be able to rattle your cage constantly. The fact that I could pick on my brother at the same time was just icing on the cake. You know by now how much I love messing with people, so it seemed like a perfect scenario for me.”

“When I first arrived,” I repeated, catching his words. “What changed?”

He laughed again. “I don't think anything changed, but I think I underestimated you, and my brother, too.”

I glanced around the room, irritated. “Did you really go to all this trouble to set up a fake date just to tell me that?”

“No. Andrew thinks I did this so I could compare notes on our little war, but it's not that either.”

“What is it, then?”

“I wanted to talk to you about him.”

My irritation faded as I caught the care in Jules' voice. “You wanted to talk to me about Andrew?”

“Yeah,” he said, staring at me intently. At that moment our food arrived, and after a few words with the waitress, and a couple of refills on our drinks, Jules' attention turned back to me. “Andrew really likes you, Beck.”

I had to chuckle at that. “I hadn't noticed,” I said through my laughter, wondering just where Jules was going with this.

“Okay, so that part's a bit obvious,” he went on, laughing as well. “But you're the first girl he's ever liked like this. He's always been really nervous around girls before.”

“He told me,” I admitted, picking at my chicken fillet with my fork but not eating any of it.

“You've been a bitch to him sometimes too.”

I winced at that, but didn't argue. How could I? I wasn't going to just take insults, though. “If you're here to give me the protective older brother thing, then don't bother. I don't want to hurt him, and I've tried not to.”

“I know. Don't think I can't see where some of this is coming from on your side too. You think you're being sneaky with the whole full-time girl thing, but the rest of us, we get you better than you think. Has it helped any?”

I sat in silence for a few moments, mulling over what he'd asked me. I didn't owe Jules any answers. I didn't owe him anything. Then I looked into his eyes, and saw something I'd never expected.

Concern.

“It's been easier,” I admitted, finally working up the nerve to take a bite of my chicken before continuing. “It's less frustrating, not switching back and forth and not having people not know what to call me one day to the next. Some things can be a hassle,” I said, giving one of my breasts a subtle poke, “but it's just clothes.”

“It's just clothes to you.”

I tilted my head, wondering what he was getting at.

“What are your plans for the future?” He asked me, taking a bite of his steak and giving me time to answer.

I shrugged. “Finish school, go to college, get a job?”

“That's not what I meant.”

I knew it wasn't what he had meant, but that was a question I wasn't sure I was ready to answer yet, not even to myself. Jules seemed to pick up on my discomfort, but surprising me again he didn't push it, instead changing the conversation over to talk about classes, and what I could expect the next year as a sophomore.

The rest of the meal passed unexpectedly pleasantly, and when the check arrived Jules waved off my offer to pay for my part of the bill, claiming it was the least he could do after putting me through the ringer on everything. Even the ride back to school was quiet and relaxed, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

It was only when we got back to P wing that things changed. Jules lightly grabbed my arm, stopping me outside my door.

“What is it?” I asked, nervous that he was about to try something, what I wasn't sure.

“I just want to ask you one thing.”

“What's that?”

“Don't break his heart, alright?”

I nodded, and that seemed to be enough answer for Jules as he started to walk toward his own room, then stopped and turned around. The smirk I had come to associate with him was back, and there was a cockiness in his tone when he yelled down the hall to me “I'll see you tomorrow, Beck.” He didn't wait for an answer before going into his own room, leaving me standing in the hallway alone, though not for long before Sarah stepped out and gave me a worried look.

“Everything okay?” She asked me, glancing between me and Jules' closed door. “He wasn't a jerk, was he?”

“Nah, everything's alright,” I told her, forcing a smile. “I'm kinda tired, though. See you tomorrow morning?” She nodded, then stepped back into her own room, leaving me to my own thoughts.

I had seen a different side to Jules tonight, and I didn't know what to think. What had him so worried about me and Andrew anyway? I just didn't know, and it was hours before I finally managed to get to sleep that night, thoughts of Andrew, Jules, Sarah, Ruby, Leslie, and my own future running through my head.

(end of Part 10)

Alright, so... yeah, I just commented yesterday that I was gonna wait 'til part 11 was finished before posting this, but... ah, fahgeddaboudit! Here's part 10, AKA the penultimate posting for PFH, in all its glory. Naturally I'll be going right into working on part 11 as soon as I'm finished posting this, which will, with even the slightest bit of luck, result in the entire story being FINISHED before the end of the week! Woot!

I'm gonna warn people right now that they might not like the ending. Do I like it? Yes. It's the ending I've intended for the series since the beginning (though admittedly with less build-up than I had initially intended) and I think is perfect for the characters in the story, and where I am cutting things off. That said, it likely will not be everyone's cup of tea.

Will there ever be more PFH past part 11? Actually, yes! Unfortunately, it will be as part of the bonus content for the published version of the story. No, it won't be necessary content to complete the story: it's mostly going to be background stuff and a short, fun piece that's meant to echo some of the more playful elements present in earlier chapters (since this story's gotten pretty darn serious toward the end.)

IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME. Well, okay, more will come regardless -- I'm too close to the end to stop now -- but still, comments are appreciated.

Melanie E.