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 1: The Princess Arrives

-1-

"What am I doing here?" I wondered as I looked out the bus window and watched the trees fly by on the other side of the glass. Just beyond them I could see the brick wall that separated the grounds of Kingston Private Academy from the local farm lands. On the other side of that wall was where I would spend the next four years of my life, if all went well, and I desperately hoped that it would.

All my life, I had been told that I would never amount to anything, by my stepfather, my cousins, even my grandparents. "That bastard father of yours," they would say when they talked about my dad, "he never went anywhere, and you're just like him." I always worked my hardest to make them happy; I had straight A's in school, I never fought, and I always did my best to get along with everybody at home -- but it never seemed to matter. Getting the scholarship to Kingston Academy had been a godsend -- it meant that I wouldn't have to spend my high school years suffering the same abuse that I'd had to deal with in junior high and elementary.

The only downside? Kingston Academy is an all boys private school. The teasing and mocking I had suffered for the last three months had been the worst, with my family going on about it being a "school for deviants" and how I'd fit right in, but I put up with it and held on. In reality, Kingston was one of the most prestigious schools in the state, known for turning out excellent and well liked politicians, business owners, and even a handful of famous scientists. But no, my family wouldn't hear any of that -- all they heard was about how there were no girls, and that was enough to convince them it was nothing more than "a training ground for fags," as my stepbrother had so eloquently put it.

That was all the reason I needed to make myself succeed at the school. No matter what, I was determined to do my best, and continue to be a top tier student. Of course, it was no longer up to me, since my scholarships required I hold a 3.5 GPA or lose them, but I could handle the stress if it meant never having to deal with those cretins again. Even so, knowing how much pressure I would be under couldn't stop me from staring in wonder as we approached the enormous wrought iron gates leading into the grounds. "Kingston Academy," I whispered, and in my heart I knew that things would never be the same.

The bus stopped, and my bags were unloaded by the driver along with those of three other boys, all of us wearing the same charcoal gray pants and blazer with the school's crest stitched into the lapel in purple and silver. I did my best to ignore the odd looks as the others grabbed their leather cases or expensive luggage and I hauled up my ratty old duffel bag filled with the few clothes and books I owned. I was glad they had laundry facilities on campus, as well, because the uniform I had on was the only one I owned, and I knew that until I found some work I wouldn't be able to afford more.

"Hi," I heard from my right side. When I turned, a tall boy with a broad, toothy grin and messy brown hair held his hand out to me. "I'm Andrew."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Dan Hen... Beck. My friends call me Beck." We shook hands, and Andrew introduced me to his friend Bobby. Before we could start a conversation, however, a sharp whistle from the gates caught our attention.

Walking towards us was a tall, sharp featured man with a pair of bifocals perched on his straight nose. One look at him and the word "teacher" immediately popped into my head, followed shortly by "snob" as I watched his face contort into a sneer when he saw my duffel bag. He gave each of the others a cursory glance as well, and I guess deciding that they were good enough, favored them with a hard smile.

"Welcome to Kingston Academy. I'm Professor Swift, and you're late."

"The bus was held up, you know how it is," Bobby returned, with a smirk of his own for the jerk in front of us. Andrew simply stood with his arms crossed, refusing to be intimidated. I smiled; if most of the students here were like Andrew and Bobby, I felt I could really like the Academy.

The smile on Professor Swift's face faltered for a moment, but quickly hardened again. He gave Bobby a cold stare, and said through gritted teeth, "Quite. Luckily for you, however, we are expected to be lenient with students on orientation day, especially freshman who are quite possibly... ignorant... of the rules." He paused for a moment, as though he were finished, but then turned to the fourth member of our bus party, a sort of gangly boy with his hair slicked back and too short sleeves on his jacket. "Mr. Davis, I had not expected to see YOU back this year. I was under the impression that you wished to leave our school."

"N-n-no sir, not at all," the boy stammered, obviously afraid of the teacher. "I had some problems, b-but I'm going to try and do b-better this year, sir."

"I'm sure Mr. Hart will be happy to see you've returned."

The boy yelped and dropped his bag, making me wonder who this "Mr. Hart" could be.

"Come along, then. No use being any later." Professor Swift swiveled around on his heels and started down the drive of the school, obviously expecting us to follow him. We all grabbed our bags, and did our best to keep up.

Soon after we began the walk up the drive, I watched as Andrew approached the Davis boy and began talking to him quietly. After a few surprised glances, the boy nodded, and shook hands with Andrew, finally cracking a small smile. Andrew then slowed down, and soon was in step beside me.

"Don't worry about Swifty. My brother goes to school here too, and he told me over the summer all about who you need to watch out for. And, you know what? He said Professor Swift was the worst of the bunch."

I nodded, but had to ask, "is that what you were talking to, uh, Davis about too?"

"Who? Oh, Stew! Kind of, I told him to look up my brother and say I sent him."

"Wow. What, is your brother part of student council or something?"

His eyes twinkled with humor, and he smirked as he said, "among other things. You'll see soon enough." With that, he sped up again, rushing to catch up to Bobby, who was the closest to Professor Swift.

"You three are lucky."

I jumped at the voice, never realizing that Davis, Stew, had moved back to speak to me. "Well," I argued, once my heart had stopped racing, "Bobby and Andrew are. I feel like I'm on my way to Hogwarts; this is all so surreal for me. Besides, I'll probably end up being a geek here, just like I was at my old school."

Stew let out a "hah!" of laughter. "Really, now, pretty boy? Get real."

"Hey! Just what do you mean by that?" I asked angrily.

He gave me an appraising eye, then frowned slightly. "You'll find out soon enough."

I was really starting to hate that phrase.

I walked the rest of the way in silence, contemplating. My looks had long been a bit of a sore point for me. When I had been about seven, my step-brother had accidentally broken my jaw with a baseball bat. It had been an honest to goodness accident - and as far as I knew the only time any of my family other than my mom had been upset to see me hurt - but the result had been that after the doctors rebuilt my jaw and the bit of nose that had been damaged as well, I had been left with a bit too narrow chin and a slightly upturned nose. When I had been little it hadn't been that bad, and a lot of the guys in my elementary school had thought it was a cool story. However, junior high had meant a different school, and a lot of different students. Nobody cared for the reasons, all they knew was I was a boy with a heart shaped, girlish face.

Because of my family and how they treated me, I had always used reading as a way to escape my problems when at home. When I started facing a lot of the same teasing and name calling at school, I simply started doing it there as well. I had straight A's, and perfect attendance, despite being an outcast, but the one thing I only rarely had was a friend to talk to.

"Hey, we're here." Stew nudged me, breaking my train of thought and pulling me back to the present. Before us stood an enormous brick building facing a large circular drive lined with trees. There were columns in front, and rows and rows of tall windows. I recognized it from the pamphlet as Montgomery Hall, the center of the Kingston Academy campus. It was even more impressive in person, with its square towers and large fountain, and Stew had to poke me again to keep me moving. "Trust me, it looks more impressive than it is," he said, as though he were reading my thoughts. The expression on his face was grim. "Well, back to the trenches."

I followed him to the foot of the steps, more nervous than I had been previously. Why had he been so down on the place? Was it really that bad? Andrew seemed excited, and so did Billy... so who should I believe? How would it be for me?

Professor Swift stopped suddenly at the top of the steps leading to the double doors at the front of the building, and spun to face us. "Gentlemen," he began, "for the next four years this school will be your new home. You will eat here, sleep here, and study here. For better or worse, you are now representing this school. Should I hear that any of you have been involved in behavior not befitting a student of Kingston Academy, I will see to it that you are expelled immediately. Do I make myself clear? Good. Follow me." With those encouraging words, the doors behind him swung open, and we took our first real steps into our new lives as students at Kingston Academy.

I wanted to take my time walking down the halls, to check out the building and learn my own way around, but Professor Swift lived up to his name as he led us down one corridor after another, not pausing once to explain where we were. As I jogged along behind him I would occasionally catch sight of another student through a window or at a locker, but we were in such a rush I never had a chance to speak to any of my future classmates.

The Professor finally stopped walking outside of a classroom that, to my eyes, appeared identical to all the others that we had passed. "Wait here," he told us before disappearing through the door, to return a moment later with two other students in tow. "Mr. Davis, since you are already familiar with our trio of newcomers, you will be helping out with showing them around campus. You will be responsible for... you," he said, pointing towards Andrew, "while Mr. McNalley will show this other gentleman around, and... you." He looked at me pointedly.

"Yes?" I asked nervously. His leer caused a shiver to run up my back.

"You will be escorted by Cartwright. I will speak to the headmaster and let him know you have arrived. What are your names?" As soon as he had our names, he turned his back to us and headed down the hall, leaving us with our two new companions.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Charles," the stocky, tanned boy said as he held his hand out to Bobby.

"And I'm Leslie," the short red-haired girl said as she did the same to me.

Wait... girl?

-2-

I looked around myself in confusion. Andrew was talking animatedly to Stew, who seemed to be trying unsuccessfully to hold on to his bad mood in the face of the optimistic and charismatic youth. Bobby and McNalley were already heading down the hall, with McNalley pointing out the different classrooms and other services. Nobody else had even seemed to notice that Cartwright was a girl except me.

"Umm, hello?" She waved her hand in front of me. "Earth to Daniel, you in there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." I nodded.

"Come on, I'll show you around. I guess here's as good as anywhere to start. By the way, why weren't you here for the morning assembly?"

We chatted as we walked along, with her interrupting the conversation now and again to explain what a particular room was, or how to get to another building, or who the teachers were. I kept wanting to ask her why a girl was attending an all boys school, but somehow I just couldn't work up the courage.

Finally, after almost a half an hour of wandering about the campus, I couldn't hold it in any more. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Yes?" She asked me, smiling. She had been doing that a lot.

"This school... isn't it for boys only?"

She nodded. "That's right."

"But... oh-kay. Um, then why are you going here?"

She gave me a look up and down, similar to the ones I had already received from Stew and Professor Swift, before giving me another one of her smiles. "You'll find out soon enough."

I swore under my breath, fighting the urge to smack the next person who told me that.

As we wandered the halls, I was constantly surprised by the other students' reactions to both Cartwright, who told me to call her Leslie, and myself. Everybody seemed to give her a great deal of respect, and worked hard to behave gentlemanly in her presence. Oddly, I found myself receiving many of the same courtesies, and it bothered me. What was going on? Why was there a girl in an all boys school? When could I put down my bag?

I knew that at the very least I could get an answer to the last question. "Do you think we can check out the dorms now? I'd like to drop off my clothes and everything, if that's okay."

She passed a confused look over me for only a second before her eyes rested on my duffel bag. "Oh! Yes, sorry about that. Right this way."

On our way across campus to the dormitories, I couldn't help but to yet again wonder at the beauty and size of the grounds of the school. Sports fields, gardens, greenhouses, it all felt more like a small town than a school. They even had an on campus store just under half way between the class buildings and the dormitories that sold items like toothpaste, brushes, and razors.

It didn't take us long to reach the nearest dorm building. "This is Denver Hall. All freshmen and some sophomores stay here. This is where you're probably staying as well. Follow me and I'll introduce you to your adviser." She led me through the doors, and directly to an office on the other side of the room.

"Good afternoon, welcome to Denver Hall," chimed the boy behind the counter happily when he saw us approach. I watched his facial expression carefully, and sure enough after checking out Leslie he gave me a quick once-over as well before grinning broadly. "How can I help you ladies today?"

I was ready to give him a piece of my mind when Leslie's hand on my arm stopped me. "That wasn't very nice, Fred. Be easy on Daniel for me, 'kay?" I watched the boy blush and nod. "Thank you. Do you have a room assignment for Daniel Henderson?"

He nodded again, then spent a few moments typing on the keyboard in front of him. "Yeah, he's in a double on the third floor. You want the key?"

Leslie looked at me and frowned. "Uh, I don't think so. Are you sure that room's right? I'm sure you can find something nicer for him, can't you?" She gave him some kind of gesture with her hands, and I watched his eyes grow wider.

"Oh, yeah, I can do that. Let's see... it looks like the only one available right now is the one connected to your room, ma'am. I'm not sure the headmaster will let me move him there."

She nodded, and smiled again. "Go ahead and do it, I'm sure he won't mind."

I boggled when I heard that. I was being upgraded to a single room? Connected to a girl's room? What was going on here? I took a step away from Leslie, growing more wary of her by the second. Who was she, if she could pull something like this, anyhow? Surely the students weren't given this much leeway in changing things at the school, yet she had talked me into a significant upgrade. Something was going on here, I was sure of it -- but how could I find out what?

"Come on," she nodded towards a door to the left of the lobby once she had the key, "this way."

I followed her down the hallway and up a set of stairs, my mind overflowing with questions the entire time. "I don't know if I should be on the same floor as a girl, or girls, or... what the hell's going on here?" I stopped in the middle of the hallway and refused to go another step. When she finally noticed that I was no longer following her, she turned around and, seeing me standing there, sighed.

"Don't worry about it. You didn't want that room on the third floor anyhow, they're tiny and on top of that they smell like sweaty gym socks. Not only that, but this way you've got a room to yourself, so long as you don't mind sharing a bathroom with me." She grinned again. "Or were you hoping they had you rooming with some cute guy?"

"Hey! I never said I was... grrh. Just show me the room."

Her grin faltered when she saw how upset I really was, and she gave me a pat on the shoulder. "Hey, I was just teasing. If you're that worried about it you're going to have a meeting with the headmaster later today, I can pretty much guarantee it. It's... a little after noon now. Just drop your bag off in the room, you don't even have to unpack yet, but don't worry so much until you've talked to him." She paused. "Nobody's told you anything about this school, have they?"

I shook my head. "I looked up as much as I could online, but there wasn't anything about it being coed. Not that it bothers me, but things have just been so weird since I got here..."

Her face took on a pitying look as she shook her head. "You'll know what's going on after you talk to him. It's too bad you missed the assembly this morning, really, it probably would have saved you a lot of worry. I'm sorry, Daniel, but really, things will be fine."

"Beck," I said, holding out my hand to her.

"What?"

"Call me Beck, all my friends do."

She laughed, and shook my hand. "You'll have to explain that to me later, but it suits you."

"I will," I agreed, grinning.

"Good," she nodded. "Then follow me."

Even given my already more than interesting experiences with the rest of the school, the dorm room I was shown to was quite a surprise. I had expected bare white walls, maybe an old beat up bed and a chest of drawers. Instead, the walls were a pleasant enough cream color, and the furnishings were fairly new, made of bare pine. "The bathroom door is on the wall to your right, and on the left is the closet." She pointed to the double doors on the left hand wall. "There's actually two closets. Usually you would have one and your roommate would use the other, but since you've got a single room both closets are yours, which can come in handy."

I just laughed. "Somehow I doubt I'll need all that much room for my clothes," I replied, hefting the duffel bag I held in my hand. "I think you can count all the clothes I brought with me on your fingers and still have a few left over."

"Well, you'd be surprised how fast that can change," she told me.

"Not on my budget."

She just shrugged, then crossed to the closet nearest the door to the room, opening it and taking down a set of sheets. "Linens are in the top of the left hand closet, and the school insists that all students use the dorm bedding and towels, unless you get specific permission to use your own. Your laundry bin should be right by the door, and our floor gets to do laundry every Thursday, I'll show you where the washing room is later. Room inspection is every other Friday, to make sure we're keeping our rooms clean. Let's see... oh, yeah. You can talk to our resident adviser if you'd like to rent a mini fridge or something, or if you have like insulin or anything you can get one for free. Is there anything else?" I just shook my head, wondering how she could say so much without taking a breath. "Great! If you've got any questions, either knock on my front door or on the connecting door between our rooms on the other side of the bathroom. Oh! There's also a cabinet in there for any toiletries you have. I think that's everything for now, anything else we can cover later."

I dropped my bag on the bed next to the pile of sheets and turned to give the room a quick once over before popping my knuckles. "Alright, I can live with this. So, what's next?"

Her eyes shifted to the left as she thought. "Next, we visit your afternoon classes. You got your schedule, right?"

"Yeah, right here."

"Good, then let's go!"

-3-

As we made the trip back from the dorms to the main building where classes were held, Leslie continued to explain as much about the school as she could. I learned everything I could want to know about where on the grounds were off limits, who the best teachers were, and what kind of foods the cafeteria offered on a regular basis. She also told me what students she knew I should watch out for, and the safest places to meet up with friends after classes, as well as many other things that I had no chance of remembering. In the end, I took to simply nodding along as she talked, until at last we stood before a classroom that after only a few seconds I remembered was supposed to be my Algebra class.

"You ready?" Leslie asked me, and with a last gulp I nodded my head yes.

The room was silent when we entered, but the moment that Leslie and I stepped in a murmur began to pass among the students. The teacher, who had been napping quietly, jerked awake with a loud snort and gave us a bleary-eyed stare. "Ah, can I help you?" He asked, while trying to force back a yawn.

"Thank you, Professor. I'd like to introduce you and your class to Daniel Henderson. He was one of the students on the bus of late arrivals. I've been escorting him around campus, giving him the tour, and your class is supposed to be his last one for the day."

"Ah, yes." He gave me a closer look, and I watched as his face broke into a broad grin. "Oh, splendid! I had thought that I'd missed the opportunity to have one of our special students in my class this year but--"

"AHEM," Leslie coughed from beside me, interrupting the Professor's comment. He gave her a curious look, but at her glare his eyes widened and he nodded.

"Ah, I apologize. Here, let's see... Henderson... yes, you're to be in the second row back, fourth column from the right. Please take your seat. Since today is the first day of classes all that we have done is to hand out textbooks, but starting tomorrow I will expect you to be ready to learn the moment you step through that door. Have I made myself clear?" The Professor gave me a stern look, but I could see the laugh lines around his eyes, and as I had always enjoyed math before I was sure I would like his class as well.

"Yes, Professor," I nodded. Then I turned to Leslie. "Thank you for showing me around today."

"You're welcome." She smiled. "I'll see you later, okay?" She told the Professor goodbye, and waved at the class as she left. I noticed that while several of the members of the class were entranced by her, most of the rest seemed to have grins like they were in on some joke, and a couple had given her creepy looking scowls. Perhaps they didn't approve of the school accepting girls now?

I found my seat, and was pleasantly surprised to see Bobby from the bus ride sitting in the seat beside me. "How'd your tour of the place go?" I asked him once I was seated.

"It went great. I saw most of my classrooms and the dorms; it should be pretty easy to find my way around tomorrow. What about you?"

"Pretty much the same thing," I agreed, "it shouldn't be hard. It's taking me a while to get used to the stares, though." I nodded towards the other boys in the room, several of whom had turned in their seats to watch me from the moment I had entered.

Bobby laughed. "Well, I'm just a new kid, but you're...."

"What," I asked sharply, shooting daggers at Bobby, but all he did was laugh again.

"You're something else. I think you'll find out soon enough."

I wanted to scream out loud, "WHY DOES EVERYBODY KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON BUT ME," but I held myself in check. Instead, I turned away from Bobby, planning to ignore him the rest of class.

Which, for me, turned out to be about ten minutes.

The intercom buzzed, and a raspy voice came over the speaker. "Could the freshman Daniel Henderson please report to the Headmaster's office, Daniel Henderson to the Headmaster's office. Thank you."

"Ah, it would be best not to keep the Headmaster waiting, Mr. Henderson. Mr. Wray, since you two seem to know each other already would you please escort him there?"

"Yes, sir," Bobby stood up and grabbed his things. When he noticed I hadn't moved, he gave me a smile. "Come on, it'll be fine. It's only the first day, you can't have done anything wrong already."

I desperately hoped he was right. I had been warned that I would probably be called in to have things "explained," but I still had no idea what the big deal was. The Professor shook my hand and wished me good luck, and soon after we found ourselves outside of the Headmaster's offices. I was too nervous to even knock on the door, and was on the verge of simply turning around and leaving again when the door swung open on its own before me.

"Finally, there you are!" Leslie said as she smiled at me. "I've been waiting on you, come on." She turned around and walked past the secretary's desk and through a door just across from us, gesturing for me to follow her. I gave Bobby a worried look, but he just shook his head.

"I'll wait out here."

"You can return to class," the secretary, a squat and chubby man with a bad comb-over said from behind the desk. "They will be in this meeting for quite a while, and your escort will not be needed again."

Bobby just shrugged, and offered me his hand. I gave it a quick shake, and after a hurried "good luck," he left the office, shutting the door behind him. With nowhere else to go, I turned around and headed into the inner office to finally meet the Headmaster.

The first thing that struck me as odd about the office was the walls. I had thought that the headmaster's office would be filled with diplomas and copies of famous paintings, to try and give it a professional and scholarly feel. Instead, the walls were covered in sketches and prints of characters from many different anime and manga, most of which I couldn't name. The black and white comic-like drawings seemed to cover almost every inch of free wall space that wasn't covered by bookshelves, and a closer inspection of the shelves revealed several dozen volumes of manga crammed in along with the books on education and the textbooks the school used.

The second thing that struck me as odd was the man behind the large desk in the middle of the room. He couldn't have been older than his early thirties, but his black hair was just starting to show the barest hints of gray. He had on a tie with a print of another anime character on it, and a pair of coke bottle glasses perched on his straight nose. And he was wearing one of the most pleasant smiles I had ever seen. I had expected to be up against some hard-nosed former bully, or blustering old ex professor; instead, it was more like I was about to talk to a mentor.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Henderson, it's very good to see you. Welcome to Kingston Academy."

I realized I recognized his voice from the many calls I had made to the school when applying for their scholarship program. I had been talking to the headmaster that entire time? "Thank you, sir. I'm happy to be here. But... why was I called to your office?"

"Please, call me Mr. Uchiha, everybody does." He gave me another one of his easy smiles, and I felt myself relax. "You're not in any trouble, I promise. Actually, I've got a bit of a favor to ask you -- no, it's really more of a job offer."

"A job offer?"

"You could call it that," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Tell me, have you ever heard of a comic called "Princess Princess?""

"No, sir." I shook my head, then dared an educated guess. "I don't really follow manga or anime or anything like that."

"Really?" He looked a bit let down, but quickly recovered. "Well, as you can see, I'm a bit of what's called an "otaku" myself, or manga fanatic if you will. I'm half Japanese, you see, and when I was young my father... well, I'll save the stories for some other time." He stopped talking, and looked deep in thought. Finally, he resumed, again smiling. "Alright then, here's how I'll start. What do you know about our school?"

I sat up straighter and thought back over what I had learned about Kingston Academy. "Founded in 1889 by Frederick Kingston. Umm, something like four hundred students, grades ninth and up. The second rated private school in the state. It used to be a boy's only school, but Leslie said she goes here too now." I gave her a look, but all she did was grin and wink at me.

Mr. Uchiha seemed impressed. "Not bad. However, you forgot one of our school's most outstanding features: a commitment to experimental education. It is our goal to make sure that all students who attend our Academy receive the best education they can, and in order to accomplish that we are constantly trying new and unorthodox methods of instruction. Tell me, Mr. Henderson, what would you say if I told you that Ms. Cartwright's presence here does not affect our school's standing as an all male institution?"

I looked at Leslie, then back to the headmaster. "So, her being here is an experiment? Is she some kind of observer?"

He laughed, and leaned back in his desk chair. "Not at all. She's just a normal student, like every other boy who goes here. Aren't you, Leslie?"

"Yes, Mr. Uchiha."

The click as my brain turned over must have been audible, and I felt the blood drain from my face. "You mean... Leslie's a guy?!"

Both Leslie and Mr. Uchiha started to laugh softly. "That's exactly what we're saying, Mr. Henderson."

Leslie touched my shoulder. "I told you that us sharing a bathroom wouldn't be a problem."

Mr. Uchiha gave Leslie a calculating look. "Oh? So you have already moved Mr. Henderson into the "P" Wing of the dorms?"

Leslie blushed and lowered her... his?... head.

"What's going on here?" I asked, now more confused than ever. Was Leslie a transsexual? I had heard of them from my dad the last time I had been allowed to visit him. Or a cross dresser? Was this just some kind of joke they were playing on me since I was late showing up to school?

"Mrs. Cartwright is a part of an experiment I have been running for the last three years on our campus. The theory is that having a female presence in an all male school can possibly help to inspire a large portion of the students to work harder. The idea is to give them the opportunity to have someone representing the female of the species to try and impress while removing the distraction of actual romantic entanglement from the equation as much as possible. Despite how absurd it may sound, it has worked surprisingly well so far, with both our academics and athletics departments showing a marked improvement in their performance since instituting the experiment."

"But why didn't I see this mentioned anywhere in the paperwork?" I asked. "This is pretty important not to... wait a minute. What does this have to do with-- oh, no."

"I see you're as sharp as your test scores indicate," Mr. Uchiha crowed happily. "If you are willing, we would like to ask you to take part in the experiment as well."

I could feel my face burning as I blushed bright red.

"Now, it isn't compulsory," Mr. Uchiha continued hastily, "you don't have to if you do not feel you would be comfortable. However, in exchange for participation in the experiment, students who play the role of what we have dubbed our 'campus princesses' do receive a salary comparative to any other on campus job, as well as all materials required for their position for free, including school uniforms."

I felt Leslie squeeze my shoulder again. "I know I don't know you that well," she said, giving me a friendly grin, "but I think you could do it. All you have to do is wear a uniform with a skirt once in a while and attend a few events for the school."

"Hold on, let me think." I collapsed in a leather chair on one wall and put my head in my hands. I already had so many questions, and more kept coming up. Should I do it? I needed to know more before I made a decision, but I had surprised myself by not objecting to the idea outright. Call it my dad's good influence.

"Why wasn't there anything about this on your website? Or anywhere else I looked?" I asked, puzzled.

Mr. Uchiha steepled his fingers. "We work hard to keep some of our more unorthodox experiments out of the public eye. We're not doing anything illegal, but the public opinion of some of our experiments would be less than wonderful. If you were to agree to do it, I could explain more, but your parents do have to agree to it as well."

I snorted. If my stepfather were to hear about this, he would freak out, then tell me how much he knew I was a "delinquent" and a "miscreant" even before I attended the school. Thank the maker that my mom had let my dad take over custody rights for me after the whole fiasco with that bastard's family -- I could never consider them my family. "What about the responsibilities? And the uniform?"

The headmaster grinned, I think taking comfort in my openness to the idea of the experiment. "You would need to attend at least one class a week wearing a girl's uniform like the one that Ms. Cartwright is wearing today." He gestured to Leslie, who gave me a dramatic spin and posed. "When you wear the girl's uniform, you will be referred to using female pronouns and generally treated as a young lady. Whether in or out of the uniform, however, you will be required to attend all school sponsored sporting events as a 'team supporter,' as well as participate in both the drama club and several other campus events. Unlike most of the members of the groups that usually participate in these events, however, you will receive compensation for your time spent as a 'campus princess.'"

The job sounded interesting and fairly easy. My interest was becoming more piqued by the second. "And what is the pay for this job?"

"Each day you wear the girl's uniform is considered as though you had worked a normal shift at a campus job for that day, plus the cost of both your male and female uniforms as well as anything else that is needed for you to keep up with your duties as a 'princess.'"

I thought about it. For an on campus job, that wasn't too bad. Heck, who am I kidding, that was amazing! "Is that it?" I asked.

Mr. Uchiha thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Pretty much, though I should warn you that no matter what uniform you wear, the rest of the students have a tendency to treat those who work as 'campus princesses' differently from the other students. Even if you don't take the job, with your appearance I'm afraid you might still be grouped in with the princesses for most events."

I sighed. Again with my looks! Anyhow... "I'll do it."

I heard a whispered "yes!" from Leslie, and even the headmaster seemed very pleased with my answer. "Very good," he said, writing quickly on a stack of papers on his desk. "In that case, take these papers by the academic adviser's office after you leave my office, and she will provide you with the official paperwork and everything else you'll need. Oh, and I want you to take this as well..."

Soon, I found myself being led by Leslie down one hall after another on our way to the adviser's office, the paperwork clutched in one hand and the first two volumes of "Princess Princess" held tightly in the other.

(End of Part 1)

End Note: I have the first nine chapters (three parts) of this story finished, and the rest pretty much completely planned already. However, I've been in a bit of a slump lately as far as writing goes, and seeing Lillith Langtree's recent comment about posting unfinished work, I had to agree. I've been working to finish things before posting them, but it just isn't working out as well for me. I like to have the feedback! So, here's Part 1 of a new story. If you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME!

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 2: The Birth of a Princess

-4-

Back in my room, I took a look at myself in the mirror as I contemplated what I had just volunteered to do. It wouldn't be all that hard, would it? Wear a skirt once in a while, maybe do some cheering at the sports games -- would they want me to wear a cheerleader uniform? I shivered at the thought, but steeled myself. I had volunteered for this after all, and even though Mr. Uchiha had told me I could quit at any time if it became too much, I was determined not to fail.

Of course, I knew it wouldn't be that easy. If I wanted to do this right, there would be a lot more to it than just wearing a skirt and prancing around the campus. But then again, I knew I had a secret weapon as well.

Students weren't allowed to have their own phones in their rooms, and as of yet I hadn't been assigned a laptop, so my only options were the phones in the lobby of the dorms. I crossed my fingers before leaving my room, hoping nobody would hear what I had to say.

Luckily, there was no one at the phones, and I was free to talk without disturbance or distraction. I dialed the number, and after only two or three rings I heard the click of the receiver being picked up.

"Henderson speaking, can I help you?"

"Hi, dad."

"Danny! Calling so soon? Do I need to come get you?"

"No, dad," I laughed. "Things are fine. I just wanted to ask you some advice."

"Sure thing, what's up?"

"Well..." I hesitated. "I need some advice on being a girl."

"What?!" This time it was his turn to laugh, and I felt myself blush again as he cackled. "I appreciate that you want to follow in my footsteps, but really, school isn't-"

"Dad! It's not that! It's just..." I sighed, and began to explain the entire story to him. Occasionally he would "hmm" or chuckle softly, but not once did he stop me until the end. "And that's why I need your help, since you're, you know."

"A drag queen," he finished for me, with a sigh of his own. "Danny, I wish I could help you, but I don't think it'd do you much good."

"Why not?"

"Because what you're asking me is nothing like what I do."

"It isn't?"

"No, not at all. You're wanting to know how to pass as a girl, and all I would be able to tell you is how to play act as one."

"What's the difference?" I asked, confused.

My dad laughed again. "The difference is that I don't try to be a woman when I dress up. I'm a man, and even when I'm dressed as a woman I look like a man. That doesn't bother me, because that's what I want. I dress up in exaggerated makeup and flashy clothes as a parody of the over the top femininity of glamor models and actresses, then I perform on stage. It's all camp, and it's all in fun, but nobody expects me to actually pass as a woman." He paused for a moment, and I felt myself slump as I realized my dad, who even after he came out as gay and divorced my mom had always been my hero, might not be able to help me.

"Alright dad, sorry to bother you."

"That's okay, Dan, call me any time. I dunno about this school you're at, though; that's a pretty odd thing to ask students to do. But, if you wanna do it, I'll agree to let you. I'll tell you what, I'll check around with the other girls and see if any of them can help you, okay? Some of them can pass quite well, and might have a few tips."

"Yeah, thanks. Bye, dad."

"Bye, Danny."

I hung up the phone and headed back upstairs, much less sure of myself than I had been before. I don't know what I had thought my dad could do for me, it's not like he could give me some kind of mystic advice that would make things perfect from the word "go," but I had been sure that he would have something that would have helped me.

Back in my room, I flopped on my bed and closed my eyes as I thought. The more I thought about it, the more what my dad said made sense. He could tell me a lot about how to be a drag queen, but neither he nor many of the "girls" he worked with really tried to pass as women. It reminded me of the conversation we'd had the last time I had been up to see him.

"Dad, why do you dress up in girl's clothes?"

"Well, I guess because I enjoy it. It's a lot of fun to get on the stage and sing along to the music, and have everyone in the crowd cheering me on."

"Do you want... to be a girl, dad?"

"Heheh, no, Danny, I'm perfectly happy being a guy. I'm a drag queen, not a transsexual."

"What's a transsexual?"

"That's someone who isn't happy with the body they were born with, and wants to be the opposite sex."

"So there ARE guys who wish they were girls?"

"Uh huh, and the other way around too. You see a few of them at the club; when you're old enough I'll take you there and you can ask some people questions, just promise me you'll be polite, and not bring it up if they don't want to."

"Okay, dad."

That had been a little over three years ago, and since then I had only seen my dad in photos and talked to him on the phone. Even after the custody transfer, I had stayed with my mom until school started because it was cheaper to get to the Academy from there than if I were to travel the two states over to stay with my dad for that time.

So, my dad couldn't help me, but he said that he would see if he knew someone who could. It wasn't great, but it was about the best I could hope for.

I was interrupted in my thoughts by a knock at the door. "Who is it?" I called as I sat up, wiping my eyes.

"It's Leslie, can I come in?"

"The door's open."

The door creaked as she pushed it open and peeked around the frame, grinning. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah, come on in."

She pushed the door the rest of the way in and walked in, looking for a place to sit among my things that I had strewn about the room. "Nice job on the unpacking," she commented. "I didn't know that your desk chair could double as a dresser."

"Oh, ha ha, real funny," I scowled, "I was in the middle of unpacking but I had to take care of something first."

"Oh." She lowered her head and scratched her neck, embarrassed. "Sorry." She gave me a worried look. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure you're really okay with everything that happened earlier. I mean, I kinda ran you into it a bit fast, and-"

I held my hand up to silence her. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry so much."

"Really?" She asked quietly.

"Really really," I agreed, quoting one of my favorite movies.

She looked up and smiled, obviously nervous. "Good. Then... I've got one more favor to ask you."

"Yes, I'll wear the skirt tomorrow. Might as well get it over with."

"No! I mean, that's a good idea, but that's not what I was going to say. I...." She scratched her neck again and pulled down her skirt, fiddling with the hem. "I was wondering if you would... that is, if you would let me... uh-"

I coughed. "Hey, ah, I appreciate it, but I'm not really-"

"Be your big sister?"

"I'm not ready for -- wait, what?"

"Can I be your big sister? All it means is I'm kind of your mentor in the Princess program and stuff. If you say no that's okay."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah! Thanks! That would be great."

Her face brightened as she looked up and smiled. "Awesome! We can start right after dinner." A bell rang at that moment, startling both of us. "Well, speak of the devil! Come on, the cafeteria's great."

With a flounce that was unlike anything I had seen her do so far, she turned around and left my room, pausing just outside the door. "Well, aren't you coming?" She asked impatiently.

"Yeah," I mumbled, and followed her out, locking the door behind me.

-5-

She had most definitely not been lying when she had told me that the food in the cafeteria was great. As a special welcoming meal they had prepared steaks with baked potatoes and a salad bar, and even with so many of us in there at once there was plenty of room and food to go around. We grabbed our trays, and I was about to go searching for a table when Leslie nudged me with her elbow.

"The princesses have our own table over there. Since you're officially one of us now you should join me. Come on!"

It wasn't hard to find the princess table, being the only table with girls in the entire room, but what surprised me was how many girls there were. Girls? Well, Mr. Uchiha had said that the princesses were supposed to be called girls when dressed as such. There were six girls at the table, all laughing and talking to one another, but as Leslie and I approached the table went silent as everyone turned to watch us.

"Everybody, this is our newest Princess, Becky Henderson," Leslie said as she waved her free hand towards me.

Wait a minute! "Becky?"

"Uh, yeah, we all have girl's names we use when we're dressed, and we've already got another Danielle, so since you told me to call you Beck I just figured... is it okay?" She bit her lip as she shrunk away from me.

I gave a sigh of resignation. "I guess. Yeah, it's okay." The tension drained from her face. I turned to the rest of the table and waved nervously. "Hi. I'm Beck... err, Becky."

"Is that short for Rebecca?" One of the girls, dark haired with Asian features, asked with a titter that passed around the table after her..

I shrugged. "Sure, why not."

Another girl, tall and blonde, stood and took the group's attention. "Let's all give a warm welcome to our newest member, girls." She led the others in a short round of applause, leaving me blushing I'm sure a very bright red. She gave me a brilliant smile. "I'm Julie. So, you're the one my brother was telling me about earlier. He said that he thought you'd end up being one of us."

"Brother?"

She nodded. "I'm Andrew's big brother. Well, sister for now, but in our group being someone's big sister has a bit of a different meaning."

"That's what Leslie was telling me earlier," I said, taking a cleared seat between the Asian girl and a girl with short brown hair pulled back by a headband. "She said it's something like a mentor?"

"You could say that," she agreed. "Big sisters help their little sisters to learn everything they need to know to do their best in the Princess program, everything from makeup on up. I'm guessing she already asked if she could be your big sister?" I nodded. "Good. Leslie was one of the first Princesses the school had, so she should be able to teach you a lot of useful things. Since you're the first freshman to be chosen as a Princess this year, we'll all try and help out too until we get our own little sisters."

I looked around the table. "So there's gonna be like six more of us?"

Julie laughed. "Nope! They decided when they started this whole thing that there would be no more than five princesses in each grade. Actually, the first year they only let there be five princesses all together, and they only let freshmen join -- that's why Leslie was one of the first." She gestured towards Leslie, who shrugged and grinned. "So was Sarah, but she's a bit of a special case." This time she waved her hand towards the Asian girl next to me, who began to blush. "The other three from their year have quit."

"I wasn't asked, I volunteered," she told me, I guess seeing the curiosity in my face. "I always wanted to be a girl, so... uh, yeah."

"Oh," I stammered, a little surprised. "Do all of you want to be girls? Er, real girls? You know what I mean."

Both Julie and Leslie began to laugh, but Leslie recovered first. "Nah. Don't get me wrong, it's a lot of fun doing all the dressing up and stuff, but I like being a guy."

"Me, too," Julie said. "It's just a job for me, though it is one I enjoy. But, at the end of the day most of us are more than happy to change into our normal clothes, with one or two exceptions."

"I just wasn't sure," I said. "You all seem so girly, no offense."

"It took a while to learn," Leslie explained, "but it really is all a part of the job. Now I actually have to watch myself sometimes when I'm in my normal clothes to make sure I'm not using my Princess mannerisms." She sounded less than happy about it.

"But enough talking," Julie interrupted with a clap, "there's plenty of time for that after lunch."

The rest of the table heartily agreed, and most conversation ceased as we ate our meals. In addition to Leslie, Julie, and Sarah, I also met Danielle (the brown haired girl with the headband,) Kylie (another blonde with short shaggy hair and a longish nose) and Amanda, a very tall African American who talked as little as possible, mostly because she had a very deep bass voice that contrasted harshly with her appearance. I couldn't remember the other girl's name, but I was sure I would learn it eventually.

I listened throughout the meal as the girls around me talked. I still don't know exactly what I had been expecting, but it was interesting to hear the conversations around me. There was the normal talk of games and classes, and in addition there were the discussions on clothes and makeup. After a while, I began to tell by listening to the conversations exactly who around me were really into the girl thing and who saw it more as a job. Those who enjoyed it shared constant tips with me on how to dress or act, and their enjoyment of being a girl was evident in their voices, while the ones who were just doing it for the money stared on with bored looks, only chipping in when asked a direct question before going back to their own discussions. Leslie seemed to lie somewhere in the middle, really enjoying some elements of the girl lessons I was receiving while looking bored during others.

The hour the school had set aside for dinner was gone in a flash for me, and before I knew what was going on Leslie had grabbed my arm and began to drag me towards the exit, barely taking the time to drop off our trays and dishes on the way out.

"Come on," she said, "we need to get as much time training you in tonight as we can so you'll be ready for classes tomorrow."

"You mean I'll be starting so soon?" I asked, surprised. In truth, I guess I had been expecting it, but I had hoped I would at least have an hour or two to prepare myself before being dumped right in the thick of it.

"Of course! All the Princesses dress up every day for the first week to help get the rest of the students used to us being here. Normally no new freshman Princesses would join us until after the first week was up and they had been given a chance to warm to the idea, but you're a special case."

"Yay for me."

She stopped and spun around, giving me a hard look. "Alright, that's enough. If you're gonna do this, do it, but if all you're gonna do is complain or mope about, then--"

"Okay! Sorry!" I backed off, raising my hands in defense. "I'm sorry, okay? Today's just been kind of stressful."

She nodded. "I gotcha. Now come on," she said with a grin, "let's make you beautiful!"

I couldn't help but whimper in reply.

-6-

"So, what do ya think?"

I looked at myself in the mirror, studying my face carefully.

"Well?"

"They never let the girls at my old school wear half this much makeup." I gave myself another glance, and cringed again. "I look like a hooker."

"Hmm," Leslie hummed to herself as she studied her work, turning my head from side to side. "Maybe you're right. I might have overdid it a bit. I'm just so used to doing my own face I just assumed you'd need the same kind of treatment."

This time I looked carefully at her face, trying to see what she was talking about. "You don't look like you're wearing this much makeup," I said jealously, wanting nothing more than to run to the bathroom and wash the heavy gunk off my face.

Leslie snorted. "That's because I know how to do my face right. Beard cover, blusher, foundation, everything I have I bought to improve the illusion, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't work right on your face because I don't have the right colors, and, uh..."

"What?"

She blushed. "Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I only know how to do makeup to make a guy look like a girl. I don't know how to do normal makeup, and you don't need as much as I do." She shrugged when she saw the outrage on my face. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth!"

"Bruise my ego a little more, why don't you," I sneered, glaring at her.

She seemed about ready to explode herself, when her eyes grew wide. "I know! Sarah might be able to help you out! She does this stuff all the time, I'm sure she would know what to do." She rushed out of the room, yelling "I'll be right back!" just as she slammed the door behind her, leaving me alone with my overly done up reflection.

It really wasn't that bad a job, to be honest -- it was simply too much for my face. Dark blue eyeshadow, with lots of rouge on my cheeks, and a ton of eyeliner added up to give me a very dramatic look, but not one that would ever be considered appropriate for school, and even with my almost complete lack of experience in makeup I could tell by the feel that it was caked on very thick over my entire face.

I was almost ready to give up and begin looking for something to begin the removal process when the door to my room opened and in walked Leslie again, followed closely by Sarah, who took one look at my face and began to laugh hysterically.

"I didn't think I did THAT badly," Leslie pouted as she crossed her arms, obviously upset by Sarah's reaction.

Sarah gave my face a closer examination, touching it here and there occasionally while making "tsk tsk" noises. "This is all wrong for her face. There's too much here, and it's the wrong colors too. Does she look like a Barbie doll to you?"

Leslie shrank back, shaking her head in the negative.

"Of course not." Finally, Sarah's frown began to ease, and with a look of determination she reached for Leslie's makeup case. "Let's see what I can do."

It was the better part of an hour later when Sarah gave a final flourish of her lip gloss brush and pronounced me done. I could tell by the satisfied look on her face and the expression of shock on Leslie's that I must have looked better, but nothing could have prepared me for when she spun me around to face the mirror.

"Wow," I heard myself whisper as I stared on in wonder at Sarah's work. Gone was the thick layer of goop and gunk and the overdone coloring, and in its place was, well, ME, only better. Well, better if I were a girl, anyhow. I reached up and felt my face, amazed.

"Now THAT is how makeup's supposed to be done," Sarah said proudly as she packed the various brushes and pots away. "You can thank me later; I'm going to bed, and I suggest you two do too. It's a big day tomorrow!"

"We will, as soon as Becky gets cleaned up," Leslie said, shaking Sarah's hand. "Thanks."

"No problem. She should be able to do it herself tomorrow, but as soon as she gets her town pass she needs to get her own makeup. I can give her some of my extras for now, but it really isn't good to use other people's makeup."

"Town pass?" I asked, but Sarah was already out the door. "Town pass?" I repeated, this time directing the question at Leslie, who had a bit of a far away look in her eyes.

"Hmm? Oh, all the students can schedule a pass into town once a month to pick up anything they need that isn't available at the on campus store. One of the perks of being a Princess is that you get priority when it comes to trips into town over most of the other students, except for seniors and those with medical needs."

"That makes sense," I said, pondering her answer as I admired my face some more in the mirror. "You know, this Princess thing seems to be awful expensive for the school to do. How did Mr. Uchiha convince them to let him do it?"

Leslie sat on the edge of my bed and thought for a moment before answering. "Well, if I remember right then the sports teams have all done a lot better ever since the Princess program started, and from what I hear all the guys on the teams say it's because having pretty girls cheer for them motivates them to win. And even though the school is boys only, it's been a tradition of the school for as long as anybody can remember to try and promote equality and acceptance, and I think they are using this as a way to do that as well. After all, you definitely can't judge someone for something like being a woman trapped in a man's body when your alma mater is an all boys school where part of the campus is in skirts," she laughed as she picked at the hem of said garment. "Not only that, but the headmaster already told you about how big he is into anime and all that stuff. From the way I've heard it, it was either this or he was going to ask them to build a martial arts dojo on campus and hire senseis to train us in a few different arts, and the school council decided that so long as it was a student's choice this would require less permits and less liability. Of course, since his father owns the school grounds that made it a lot easier for him to get his way."

"I would imagine," I said, grinning as I wiped the last of the grime from my face. Even without it, though, there was something different about my appearance. The slightest touch of mascara had remained, and that was more than enough to shift my looks from the boy I had always seen myself as to "Becky," the school princess, and I found myself confused, scared, and a little excited all at the same time. "Still, it's a lot of money to throw into something so, so...."

"Stupid? Weird? Abnormal?"

"Experimental," I said, with a shrug.

"Maybe," she said, thoughtful, "but if they wanna give me money for doing it I'll take it over scrubbing toilets or trimming the hedges any day of the week."

"Amen to that!" I agreed heartily.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'll come by in the morning to help you with things, alright?"

"Sure thing. Good night," I said, offering Leslie my hand for a shake.

"Good night," she said, grinning, "and have fun being a princess!"

Despite my nervousness, I was sure I would.

(end of part 2)

END NOTE: I know that in my blog entry I said I'd post this on Mondays and other stuff most likely on Thursdays, but a fit of sanity made me realize that I am always far too busy on Mondays to post ANYTHING, little lone a chapter of a story every week! So, I figured y'all would prefer a day early over a day late. However, be forewarned, the next part WILL NOT be out until next Sunday.

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

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 3: A Princess's First Day

-7-

"Hurry up or we'll be late for class!"

"Grr, I'm coming!" I barked as I shut my door behind me. I silently cursed Leslie as I followed her down the hall and toward the stairwell, tugging down the skirt of my new uniform every few steps in a vain attempt to make it just a couple of inches longer.

Of course, I knew I couldn't actually blame her for anything. She hadn't made me agree to be a campus Princess, but she was the closest and most convenient target to vent my anger toward. And since I didn't have a girl's uniform of my own yet, she had been "gracious" enough to lend me one of her spares.

The skirt had looked a lot longer when she had been wearing it.

"Stop pulling at it, you'll mess it up!"

"Well, sorry for being used to having my butt covered!"

"Geez, it's not THAT short! You've just got longer legs than I do, so it seems shorter on you, that's all. It covers you up as much as it did me."

"Yeah, well, that's YOU."

"Just get over yourself and hurry it up."

Despite her constant harping on me to be faster, we made it to class with plenty of time to spare. I would have been in a better mood if she hadn't made me skip breakfast to practice sitting and walking in the skirt -- as it was, I knew that for the rest of the morning I'd have to deal with a growling stomach.

In addition to that, I found it hard to deal with the stares from my classmates. I had thought it was bad the day before, but now that I was officially a Princess things were even worse. Many of them seemed to be merely curious, and I received a number of compliments on how well I passed from my classmates in the hallways, but some of them...

I wasn't sure which to be more worried about, the looks of disgust or the ones that looked like they wanted to ask me out. I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with either one for the moment.

Leslie left me at the door to my first class and left for her own, muttering to herself about how late she was going to be. I considered apologizing to her, but in light of the torment she had already put me through I reasoned that she could deal.

What can I say, I get mean when I'm rushed and hungry.

Apprehension washed over me as I reached for the door to my home room. I took a couple of deep breaths to calm myself. Whew. Okay. Nothing to worry about. I pushed the door open and walked in.

"Good morning. Miss Rebecca Henderson, I take it?"

It was already official? How did that happen? "Uh, yeah," I nodded, scratching the back of my head where it itched from Leslie's work on my hair earlier. I was still ticked off at her over the pigtails. "That's me, I guess."

The teacher, a Mr. Johnson if I remembered right, smiled at me, then checked the list in his hand. "You'll be here in front, miss."

I thanked him and took my seat, very aware of the stares from the rest of my classmates. It was uncomfortable, but I made it through the class without any trouble.

My next three classes went much the same, with only one exception. I'd had no idea that Andrew was going to be in my third period Economics class, and I doubt I would have noticed him, so wrapped up was I in my own situation and self awareness, if it hadn't been for an accident. Like with my prior two classes, the teacher greeted me and gave me my seat, but when I went to sit down I must have stepped badly or something, because I felt my ankle twist to the side and I began to fall. I braced myself for the impact, knowing it was coming, and that it would hurt like a -

"Oof!"

"Aah!"

"Watch it!"

I hadn't realized my eyes were squeezed shut until I opened them and looked down to see Andrew lying on the floor beneath me. With a start I pushed myself up from where I had landed on him and into a sitting position.

"Uhm..."

"Hi," he said with a grin, looking up at me. "I'd planned on catching you today, but I hadn't thought it'd be quite like this."

"Uh, yeah, sorry."

"It's alright." He gave me a quick once over. "You can get up any time, though."

I looked down, and suppressed a gasp when I noticed that I had landed straddling his legs. I shot up as quickly as I could, feeling the blush climb to my cheeks. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to--"

"Hey! Hey. It's fine." Using the desks to either side, he lifted himself upright and began to brush the dust off his pants. "There's worse ways to start my first full day of classes than rescuing a damsel in distress." The rest of the class laughed at his comment, embarrassing me even more.

I felt myself blush again as I adopted one of Leslie's mannerisms and began to play with the hem of my skirt. "I'm not really... I haven't... oh, crap."

"You look nice."

"Thanks." What else could I say?

Without another word we took our seats, and it was only then that I noticed that his was right behind mine. I wondered to myself as the teacher droned on about something or other, how would I ever live this down? My first day of classes, really, and already I was a klutz and a Princess both. I hoped things would calm down soon, otherwise I doubted I'd make it through the next four years.

It wasn't until after class that we spoke again. I had hoped I could escape without him noticing, but of course that couldn't happen, could it? The bell had barely finished ringing when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

"Beck?"

I looked up to see him standing next to my seat. I sighed. "I think it's been decided that I'm 'Becky' when I'm dressed like this." I gestured towards my clothes. "Um, thank you for catching me."

"No problem," he laughed, touching my shoulder. "Jules said it was kind of hard to get used to the uniform at first, I doubt anyone will give you problems over it."

"Jules, you mean Julie? She said she was your sister."

"Yeah, Julian's my older brother. Er, sister. Sorry, at home he's a he, and it'll take me some time to get used to him being a she. You know what I mean."

He grinned again, and I couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah, I know. She was a little confused over it yesterday, too."

"Good thing it's not just me, then. To tell the truth, I'm not surprised they picked you already. With how pretty you are, I figured they would be asking you before anyone else."

I wasn't sure what to say. Looking into Andrew's face, I could see his amusement at my situation, but I could see something else as well. Nah, it couldn't be. "Well, I'm still not sure if I'll stick it out, but it sounded like an easy way to make money while I'm going to school, and it doesn't cut into my homework time a lot either."

"Let's see you say that when it comes time for some of the school events. Or Parents Day. Jules said that being a Princess means you're obligated to help with those."

"Yeah, but that's later." I glanced at the clock on the wall behind him nervously, watching the minute hand tick over. "Hey, I really need to get to my next class. Can I talk to you some more later?"

"Sure thing," he agreed, backing away so I could get out of my desk. "Need an escort?"

"Nah, I should be fine." I busied myself gathering my things, not wanting to look at him. "I'll see you later, 'kay?"

"Yeah, catch ya later."

I waved to him as I walked out the door, and hurried to my fourth period class. The same greeting, almost the same seating arrangement, but this time I had more on my mind than just how the rest of the students were reacting to me. This time, I was worried about Andrew in particular.

-8-

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," Julie said as she munched on her sandwich. "Andrew's a nice guy, and I'm not just saying that 'cause he's my brother. I am a bit surprised though. Are you sure?"

"Well, no," I mumbled, staring at the remains of my own lunch and contemplating another sandwich, and whether it was bad etiquette for a Princess to have seconds while not really caring. "It was just a feeling I had, ya know?"

"I do," I heard Sarah say from my left, where she was idly picking at a small salad. "Like Jules said, though, it shouldn't be a problem if he's a nice guy. Uh, I know it's kinda rude to ask, especially since we don't know each other that well, but... do you like guys or girls?"

"Uh, I dunno, really..." I shrugged. Okay, it might be a little weird, but it was the truth. Maybe it was my dad's influence, or maybe it was because I always tried my hardest to distance myself as much as possible from the views of my stepfather and his family, but I had refused to let myself ignore the possibility of being gay, or to be disturbed by it. With all the problems I had at home, though, I had made a constant effort NOT to think in terms of like or dislike towards either guys or girls. Not that I couldn't appreciate a beautiful girl, I most definitely could, but I could do the same for a very handsome or well built man. So which did I prefer? Or did I like both? "I haven't really made up my mind yet," I answered her.

"Oh." She looked surprised. "Huh. Well, the nice thing about Kingston is that it doesn't really matter. There are the jerks who are all anti-gay and stuff, just like any school, but because the school tries to promote tolerance bullying gets cracked down on fast."

"That's what Leslie was telling me."

Sarah nodded. "You're going to have to deal with them some time or other, just because you're a Princess. They assume that all the Princesses are gay guys, despite evidence to the contrary."

I gave her a confused look, and she just smiled and nodded towards Danielle on my other side.

"I've got a girlfriend back home who came up with my folks on Parents' Day last year." Danielle grinned. "She was a bit shocked when she saw how I was dressed, but I think the rest of my class was more surprised when they met her because most of them thought I was gay despite me telling them about her already."

"And she's okay with," I waved my hands up and down her body, "this?"

"Yeah," Danielle agreed, "she was a bit weirded out at first, but, well, let's just say that we had some fun over the summer with her parents being none the wiser."

The whole table broke up into laughter and chatter after that, and for the longest time everybody else ignored me, which I was more than happy for, but before long their attention returned to my own problems.

"Back to you, little sister," Jules said, pointing at me. "So how did it make you feel when you thought he liked you?"

"A little uncomfortable, to be honest. I'm used to people picking on me because of how I look, not complimenting me because of it."

"So you didn't like it?" Sarah asked.

"I wouldn't say THAT." I shook my head. "It was just, unexpected. And weird. I don't know how to handle someone being into me, if he even IS, or was I just seeing something?"

Almost the whole table shrugged at that.

"Well, whatever happens, if he bothers you just let me know, I'll take care of it," Julie said, cracking her knuckles in a menacing way. For a moment, she really did look more like a boy in girl's clothes than anything else.

"Or me." Sarah patted my shoulder sisterly. "I can give you lessons on how to talk to boys later if you want. Since I've been living as a girl ever since I was first allowed into the Princess program I have more experience than the rest of the girls do in that kind of thing. Whether you like them or not, it's good to be able to handle them."

"She's right about that," Leslie said with a knowing look. "I might not be into guys, but sometimes knowing how to talk to them comes in handy. Sarah's a pretty good teacher, too," she said, giving Sarah a big smile. I was surprised to see Sarah blush.

"Well, I'm alright."

Leslie looked as though she was ready to tell Sarah just how great she really was when the lunch bell rang, startling us all out of our conversation. Danielle was the first one up, and with a quick "Catch you later," she rushed for the tray deposit and out of the cafeteria, followed shortly by the rest of us.

As I made my way to my first class after lunch, I was glad for the support of the rest of the Princesses, and felt happy to know that they all had experience with the problems I was facing. It struck me how hard it must have been for Leslie, Sarah, and the other Princesses their first year, without people to lead and help them, and I shuddered at the thought.

In comparison to something like that, the deal with Andrew -- if there was anything to begin with -- seemed like only a mild annoyance.

My opinion on that issue changed shortly after I entered my first class of the afternoon. All faces turned to me, leaving me feeling uncomfortable as I walked towards an empty seat. By the time the bell rang, I was beginning to feel like some kind of freak, and had to break the tension.

"What is it already?!"

Most of the boys nearest to me jumped, and every face in the class seemed hesitant to answer, but eventually one boy to my left gained the courage to whisper, "is it true?"

"What?"

"That it's your first day as a Princess and you're already dating Miss Stone's brother?"

I couldn't have been more stunned. "Who said that?"

"Well," another boy joined in, his nerves bolstered by his partner's speaking, "it's going around earlier today you were sitting in his lap and uhm..."

"I fell! He caught me!"

"Oh. Uh... so that means you're still single then?"

"Buh, I, uh... what I mean is... dammit, where's the teacher?"

"Right behind you, and amazed at what a foul mouth our newest 'princess' seems to have, MISS Henderson," a crisp, annoyed voice I would recognize anywhere said.

As though to remove any doubt that might have been left, the rest of the class spoke in unison. "Good afternoon, Mr. Swift."

-9-

I was two hours late getting back to the dorms after classes, thanks to detention with Professor Swift, only to find Leslie waiting for me outside my door and tapping her foot impatiently.

"Where have you been?"

"In detention," I grumbled as I reached past her and opened my door. "With Professor Swift."

"You got detention on your second day? That's gotta be a new record, especially for a Princess."

"Yeah, well I seem to be good at setting new records, don't I?" I asked her with venom in my voice.

"Hey! Don't take it out on me just because you got in trouble." She glared at me as I flopped backwards onto my bed. "And don't do that in my skirt -- you'll wrinkle it."

"Oh horror of horrors!" I replied with as much sarcasm as I could muster, but reached underneath myself to straighten her skirt before any serious damage was done. The skirt had caused me enough problems already; the last thing I needed was for Leslie to get mad at me over it, too. "Can I wear pants tomorrow?"

"Nope, sorry but can't do. You're a Princess now, and like we told you yesterday, all Princesses are expected to dress up the entire first week of class to get the rest of the students used to us being around."

"Girls wear pants too, I'm sure I've seen it once or twice."

"Yeah, well, we're not actually girls, technically speaking, are we? Sarah might be able to get by with it, but not the rest of us."

"But that's not fair!"

"That's what you're getting paid for, though," she said, standing over me and grinning. "By the way, nice panties."

For a brief moment I felt myself begin to blush, and reached down to cover myself, but my frustration was enough to override my natural embarrassment. "You should know, you're the one who picked 'em out."

"True. Well, I'll leave you alone to calm down for a bit. Dinner's in about an hour, I'll come over and help you fix your face before we head down."

I grunted in acknowledgment, and listened as she left through the bathroom linking our rooms. I knew I had been a lot more rude to her than I should have been -- she was just trying to help, after all -- but all I had been wanting since the day began was a little time to myself, and I had been in no mood for company especially after detention.

I rubbed my sore hand as I remembered Professor Swift's punishment. I will not swear in class. I will respect my teachers. I will never dishonor my school. That was what he had made me write, over and over, for what must have been an hour and a half, and then he had made me recite it to him. He had also told me that if he caught me swearing again, that the next time I would have detention for a whole week. The punishment seemed excessive to me -- it was my first offense! -- but I wasn't about to complain. They could have made me sit and write a book on how I'd never curse again for all I cared, anything was better than having to return to my stepfather.

At least I had managed to avoid Andrew for the rest of the afternoon. He had been in my last class, and I was sure he had wanted to talk to me, but I made sure to sit on the other side of the room from him, and left before he could corner me. I just wasn't ready to deal with him yet. Did he just want to be friends, or was he interested in more? Did that make him weird if he was, or did it make me weird? As though going to classes dressed as a girl wasn't enough indication I wasn't exactly normal, I thought to myself. I'd have to deal with it eventually, I knew, but for the moment I chose to file it away.

It hadn't been my intention to fall asleep, but I must have been more tired than I realized, because the next thing I remembered was Leslie shaking my shoulder gently to wake me.

"Hey, come on, it's almost time for dinner. We have just long enough to fix your makeup before we need to go."

I stretched and yawned. "Can't I just clean it off and go down like normal?"

"Not unless you happen to have some casual girl's clothes just lying around somewhere, which I doubt, and even then you'd still need to wear a bit of makeup." She grimaced, as though she wasn't too happy with that rule either. "We're Princesses, and Princesses are supposed to be as girly-girl as they can be, so even if you had regular clothes they'd still have to be at least a little on the feminine side."

"So I can't even wear my guys' clothes to dinner?"

"Not until the end of the week."

"Dammit!"

"I agree," she said with a sigh. "I don't mind the whole Princess thing once in a while. Heck, I don't mind it a couple of times a week even. But I get tired of all the work after a couple of days, and just want to be myself for a while." She sat down on the side of my bed and stared at me for a moment, frowning. "At least you don't have to do as much work as I do to look like a girl."

I shook my head. "I doubt it's that hard for you to look like a girl. You fooled me."

She laughed at that. "This will be my third year doing this, of course I can fool you! But it takes a lot more work now than it used to. When I was your age I could just throw on the skirt and a little mascara and get away with it once in a while, but now I have to shave every morning, then spend at least half an hour on my makeup, then the wig..."

"Wig?"

She nodded, and lifted her hair at the back of her neck. Looking closely, I could just make out the edge where the wig began and her own hair peeked out slightly beneath.

"So you're not really a redhead."

"Nope, but the wig was cheap and it looked good enough on me. What I'm trying to say, though, is this: you think it's tough on you now? Just wait until you have to start waxing your chest, THEN tell me you've got it rough."

I couldn't help but wince in sympathy, and I saw Leslie start to smile. "Now get up so we can get this over with. I'm starving!"

It took us significantly less time to fix my makeup than it had to do it before classes that morning, and I managed to only stab myself in the eye with the eyeliner once. Dinner itself was filled with conversations about either my detention on the second day of school, or about whether it was true or not that I was dating Andrew. Jeez! You would think that it being an all boys' school would mean less of a gossip mill, but I guess I was mistaken.

And to top it all off, who should stop by our table at the end of the meal but the troublemaker himself.

"Hey, little brother!" Jules called, giving me the first indication that something was going on. My suspicions were confirmed when just a moment later a large body leaned down on the table between me and Sarah.

"Hey b- sis. I just wanted to let you know I joined the Protectors today."

"Oh, that's great! I kind of figured you would, though," Jules said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder. An evil gleam came to her eyes. "Becky was just telling us about how the two of you are most definitely not dating."

The slab of meat known as Andrew at least had the good grace to blush when he turned to face me. "Uh, yeah, about that... sorry. I didn't know that would happen. And I mean, I'm not into guys, so you don't have to worry. Not that you look like a guy, you're a really pretty girl, and you do look like the kind of girl I would ask out but--"

"STOP. Just stop," I said, before he could ramble himself into a deeper hole than he already had.

"Right." He scratched the back of his head, obviously embarrassed, then extended his other hand out to me. "So, can we still be friends?"

I thought about it for the moment, but nodded and shook his hand. "Sure," I agreed. He had been a good guy, after all, and I wanted him as a friend. And, who knew, maybe with time we could get past the whole awkwardness thing.

Another thought occurred to me, though, and so I turned to Jules and asked, "What are the Protectors?"

"Nobody's told you?"

I shook my head.

"The Protectors," she continued, in a haughty teacher's voice, "are a club of students on campus dedicated to watching out for us Princesses both on and off campus."

"But I thought that we were pretty much accepted here?" I asked her, confused.

"Well, yes and no," she said, rocking her hand back and forth. "A lot of the student body and faculty can see what the experiment we're a part of is going for, and support us, including most of the members of the honors classes and sports teams, since we're their cheer squad. Most of the rest of them don't really care one way or another, or don't dislike us enough to do anything about it other than ignore us. But then there's the group that really does hate us. The homophobes, fundies, people like that who made it past the school's tests somehow or other. There aren't many of them, but there are enough that we have to be careful sometimes."

I nodded, thinking back on the last day and some of the looks I had received. Most had been positive or indifferent, but a few of them had been downright scary.

"That's where the Protectors come in. They watch our backs, especially when we go to other schools with the sports teams and things like that. It's a little sexist, really -- even more so considering our actual status -- but there have been a few times over the last couple of years when their help has come in handy."

"That's kind of scary," I said, looking around the table at the serious looks on everyone's faces. "If things can get so bad that we need protection, then why don't they just cancel the program?"

"There are a few reasons," Sarah interjected before Jules could start talking again, "the biggest of which is that the headmaster doesn't want to cancel it."

"I think he just likes seeing us in the skirts, the perv," Danielle said in a stage whisper, and the entire table laughed.

"Another reason," Sarah continued, "is that the results of the experiment have been positive so far. Our sports teams have all gone undefeated the last two years, and we're hoping to keep that going this year. The school has always done well on testing, as well, but I've heard that the last two years even our averages on the standardized tests are higher."

"Okay, I'm not sure how that's connected with us..."

"Something about 'impressing the ladies,' I overheard one of the teachers talking about it one day. Regardless, the results have been good enough that they outweigh any problems the experiment has caused so far, and I've heard there's already talks of keeping the Princess program going after they finish the four year test run."

"Personally, I just think it's a cool idea," Andrew added in, "and since my brother... er, sister... is in the program too, I wanted to do whatever I could to help out. Since I'd look like an idiot in one of those school uniforms you guys wear, I joined the Protectors."

Jules reached over and mussed his hair, and he batted playfully at her hand before leaving our table. That pretty much ended dinner for all of us, so as a group we rose and took our trays to the return window and headed back to our dorms.

As I took off my makeup and changed into my pajamas -- the first male clothing I had worn all day -- I took the time to reflect on how my first day as an actual Princess had gone. It had been scary in places, and frustrating a lot of the time, but I was sure that with a little effort and time I could get used to it, and the money would definitely make it worth it.

And, though I hated to admit it, there had been times when it had been fun as well. Being a girl, or at least pretending to be one, was so much different from being a guy, and I was starting to appreciate all the work it must take them to look nice all the time with all the requirements society put on their appearance. I could see it was going to be hard work, but I had no doubt it was going to be a lot of fun as well.

With that thought in my head, I smiled at myself in the mirror and returned to my room. Tomorrow was another day, and I hoped to try getting ready without Leslie's help.

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.

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 5: The Princess's Escort

-13-

The gown was floor length, with a tight slightly boned waist to add some minor curves that I otherwise would not have had and what the seamstress had called "almost a hobble skirt, because you boys always take such long steps and it makes the dress look bad when you do," all in a shimmery light yellow material that I could never remember the name of.

I looked down at myself in the gown.

I looked over at Andrew, standing there in a nicer version of the school uniform and smirking at me.

I looked back down at myself, and vaguely wondered how long I would be able to last on the heels hidden somewhere beneath before my feet decided to stage a mutiny and throw me to the floor.

"I hate you so much right now," I said calmly as I took his offered arm and we made our way for the entrance.

"I know, right?" He replied, confident that I wouldn't hit him since I was relying on his support for balance.

"Ow! Sonuva-"

He was wrong.

We had all been warned ahead of time by the Head that the Alumni Banquet would be boring, and that we would all be expected to remain polite and alert the entire time despite that. It seemed that the Alumni Association had taken an interest in our particular 'alternative education experiment,' and had requested the presence of a handful of representatives of the Princess program at their annual banquet so they might try and see some of the affect we had in person. In the end the names that had been drawn were Sarah's, Julia's, and mine. I had complained, but the Head had said that they would appreciate having a representative from each grade that was participating in the program, and that I was the only freshman with enough experience to pull it off, not to mention the only one who had already been fitted for an evening gown.

I smelled a setup, but I just gritted my teeth and bore it, like I was doing now as Andrew escorted me to our reserved seats with the other Princesses and their escorts.

"Isn't this just so exciting?" Jules asked me as I settled into my seat, Andrew sliding it snugly into place. I was ready to ask her if she was serious, until I saw her look of disgust. McNalley sat next to her with a showman's smile on, and I watched him nod to some of the older men as they entered.

Sarah, in her own baby blue dress, laughed quietly. I looked at her, and my eyes bulged when I noticed the cleavage she was sporting in her strapless gown.

"Are those real?" Slipped out of my mouth before I could slap my hand over it, and I stared at her in wide eyed horror at my own faux pas.

She gave me an odd look, then laughed again and nodded. "I've been on hormones for almost a year and a half now. Why, are you jealous?"

I shook my head and glanced down at my own nearly flat chest, my only enhancement being the small amount of flesh displaced by the corsetry in the dress. That was disturbing enough for me -- the idea of having actual breasts sent a chill down my spine.

"You okay?" Andrew asked me, resting his hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, just had a scary thought is all."

He nodded, then sat down across from the boy who was serving as Sarah's escort for the evening. His name was lost on me, but the strange looks he was shooting around at the rest of us grated on my nerves.

It was sometimes hard for me to remember that I had only been in the Princess program for a month. In that time I had already been to two soccer games and a basketball game dressed as a cheerleader, learned how to do makeup and generally dress myself, and managed to be one of the students with clothes in the laundry at the time that a prank gone wrong destroyed the dryer, ruining my only pair of boy's uniform pants in the process. That had been just under a week before, and even though I was supposed to receive a pair of replacements the day after the banquet I had suffered a week of wearing a pair of pants three sizes too big for me. It was either that or my Princess uniform, but I was determined to wear that as rarely as possible.

Not that it made any difference. I know the Head had talked to some of my teachers about watching me carefully and making sure to use pronouns according to how I was presenting, but even with that there were more than enough slip ups with being called 'Becky' or 'girl' even when in class. I was sure now that the Head had been right about me being grouped in with the Princesses regardless of whether I had joined or not -- I just wished that I could be grouped in with the other guys when I was dressed normally.

Instead, I received all the courtesies of a Princess at all times, the same as Sarah. I still was not sure whether to be insulted by this or flattered, but I was leaning toward the former.

A tug on my hand brought me back to the dinner, and when I looked over Andrew was gently pulling me to my feet. Everybody else was already standing up and facing the stage expectantly.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the MC's voice echoed out over the crowd as the lights dimmed and a spotlight was directed on the aging, bald man with microphone in hand. "Welcome to the seventy-third annual Kingston Academy Alumni Banquet. As you all know, I'm Rolph Donner, class of '31, and I was asked to speak at this fantastic event because I am currently the school's oldest living alumni. And, trust me, looking around this room I can tell you that's saying something." The crowd laughed politely, and the old man gave the auditorium a toothy grin. "But I know just what to do to make you all feel just as old as I do..."

What followed was one of the longest, most boring parades of speeches and presentations I had ever witnessed, and to top it off I could not even temper it by attempting to enjoy the food because of the foolish corsetry built into my dress. I looked over at Andrew, digging heartily into his chicken and potatoes, and hated him a little more. Then I imagined what he would have looked like if he had worn my dress. The thought made me smile, and imagining all the torment he would undergo almost made the rest of the event tolerable.

To make matters worse, it felt as though every ten minutes another alum of the school would stop by our table to talk with us and find out exactly what was going on with the Princess program. Apparently the program had escaped their notice some way or other for the past two years, and consequently many of them were highly interested in learning the finer details of what the program did. The three of us Princesses answered questions as best we could, with me being thankful that Sarah and Jules were able to field all the questions unless I was specifically asked.

The mutiny occurred less than ten minutes before the event ended. I had been standing for almost half an hour, greeting alum after alum in my pretty little dress and saying pretty little words so they would all see what pretty little things us Princesses could be. I turned to greet the next alum who had come to ask me some damn fool question about another inconsequential bit of nonsense associated with the program -- I was getting a bit tired of it all, to say the least -- when my ankle decided to collapse, sending me tumbling backwards into the table, sending drinks, food, and dishes strewn asunder.

Or it would have, if Andrew had not caught me.

I recovered quickly, but not before catching the smirk on his face. I was glad he was more comfortable around me now, but his constant smiling like he knew something I was unaware of could get on my nerves almost as much as his constant bumbling had done before.

Or perhaps I was just in a bad mood.

Despite my foul mood and anger at his very presence, I was not above using Andrew as a support to keep weight off my now dully throbbing ankle, and after exchanging pleasantries with the last of the alumni, most of whom gave our entwined arms a somewhat disapproving grimace, he escorted me, slowly, back to my room.

"Some night, huh?" He asked, once we had reached an area of the halls where the constant droning of the old men in conversation could no longer be heard.

"I've had better."

"You do look beautiful in that dress, though."

I glared at him, but all it did was make him chuckle.

"Hey, ease up. You've been tense all night."

I sighed. "This has been the single longest month of my entire life."

He nodded. "Regretting joining the Princess program?"

I started to nod, but something made me stop myself. "I... I don't know. Not really."

A gentle pull on my arm caused me to stop, and when I looked at Andrew again he had a puzzled look on his face.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Why would I?" I asked in response.

He began ticking off items on his fingers. "One, you have to dress like a girl. Two, you have to get treated like a girl. Three, because of your, uh, 'unique' situation, you don't even get a break when you're dressed as a boy. Four, you've got responsibilities to the school to fulfill out the wazoo. Five, you have to dress like a girl."

"You already said that."

"It bears repeating." He stared at me for a moment, making me feel very uncomfortable. "And lastly, six: you don't seem to like having to put up with me all the time very much," he said, with a faintly hurt look on his face.

Of all the reasons he could have given, that was one I had not expected. "What? Why would you say that?"

He grunted and stepped back, crossing his arms. "You're always acting annoyed when I'm around, you try to avoid me, you're always frowning whenever you see me, you-"

"No I'm not!"

He paused. "Yeah, you are. I thought we could be friends when I met you getting off the bus, and okay, so I was a bit freaked out at first by how easily you slipped into the Princess schtick, and the way I acted probably didn't help any, but I've been trying to be friendly to you, and you keep acting like I'm some jerk who you'd prefer would go some place else. Is that what you would prefer?" There was no anger in his voice, nor on his face.

Somehow, that made what he said hurt worse.

I wanted to answer right away, but I knew that anything I said would be the wrong thing, so instead, I gave myself a few minutes to think.

"I..."

"Well?"

"...I think I want to go to bed." I finally said.

He hung his head, defeated, and offered me his arm. I leaned on him as I limped the rest of the way to my dorm, but I dared not say a word.

-14-

I lay in bed and thought.

It was Saturday morning, the beginning of a three day weekend thanks to Monday being Labor Day. I had planned on going into town with Sarah this weekend, as a way to, as she had put it, "see what being a girl is like outside the stuffy walls of Kingston," but after what had happened the night before between me and Andrew I had begged off.

Why did I feel I had to be so rough on him? As much as I complained about him, he and Bobby were probably the only two boys outside of the Princesses that I could consider friends around campus, and of the two of them I much preferred his company over Bobby's constant ribbing, no matter how good natured it was intended. Andrew was always nice to me, and always tried to treat me with respect. So, why did I always feel angry at him?

Or, was that the reason? He might have always been nice, but he also always acted like he was on his best behavior around me. He always treated me with respect, yes, but it was always the kind of respect that a boy would afford a girl friend, and not the kind between two buddies. In short, he always treated me like a girl, and while I knew I really did not hate him, I did hate that he felt like he had to treat me that way.

I rolled over and covered my head with a pillow, trying to stop the flow of thoughts, but they just kept coming.

If that was the reason I felt so angry when around him, then why could I not just pull away?

There were at least two reasons, the most obvious one being that he had been assigned as my personal Protector, which still annoyed me to no end. All the other Princesses, even Sarah, only had Protectors assigned to them specifically when we went to major events off campus, and the rest of the time the Protectors were meant to keep a general watch over everyone. Unfortunately, I knew who was to blame for this one, and Andrew was not it. The downside of calling my dad and letting him know about the Princess program in the way I did was that, unknown to me at the time, he had gotten the school's number and threatened the Head with a gruesome death should anything happen to me. From what I heard later, lawsuits and some kind of LGBT legal organization had been brought up too. The end result was that the Head had gone a bit paranoid over my safety, and when he had learned that Andrew was the first freshman to ask to join the Protectors, and Julia's brother to boot, he had jumped at the opportunity to take care of the problem.

And thus, I had managed to yet again score the dubious honor of another first in the school records, the first Princess with a permanent escort. It was only a small consolation to learn that the head was considering expanding it so all the others had one too.

The second reason was more complicated. I did like Andrew as a person, as annoying as he could be, and even then I knew it was my problem more than his. The last thing I wanted to do was punish him for my personal hang-up.

I spent the entire day Saturday alone in my room, thinking over what to do about the whole situation. All the other Princesses had managed to find other ways to spend their labor day weekend, either at home, with girlfriends and boyfriends, or with town passes, so even at meals I had the table to myself. All in all, it left me feeling abandoned, alone in a school of over five hundred students.

Was I really that dependent on the company of the other Princesses? A quick scan around me at dinner, seeing what student body remained at the school idly chatting to one another at other tables while I sat alone, told me that yes, I was.

"Hey, are you doing okay?"

I turned back to my own table and there stood Bobby, gesturing to the seat across from me and asking permission with his eyes. I nodded, and he sat down, his overfilled tray making a loud 'thump' when it hit the table.

"Well?" He asked.

I started to say I was fine, but found myself shaking my head instead. "I don't know. Things are weird right now."

He nodded. "Andrew looked pretty down when he came in last night. What happened, lover's tiff?"

I shot him a glare, and the small upturn that had begun to appear quickly died.

"Okay, sorry. But seriously, you know I'm here if you need to talk, right? Andrew isn't the only one of us in the Protectors."

I sneered at him. "Is that why you're here? Filling in for him?"

Bobby took a bite of his food, making me wait before answering. "Partly. Mostly, I'm here because I thought we were friends."

That threw me for a second. "Really?"

He nodded, looking at me as though I were an idiot. "Well, yeah! The four of us late arrivals gotta stick together!"

"Four?"

"Me, you, Andrew, and Stew."

"Stew? Oh, Stewart." I had not spoken two words to our sophomore bus partner since that first day, but I had seen him talking to Bobby and Andrew.

Bobby carefully sat down his fork and Looked at me. "Listen. Me and Andrew, we like you, even though you've been a bit of a bitch. Just saying," he said, raising his hands when I glared at him. "But come on, think about it."

"I'm not a--"

"Think."

I frowned at him, but the earnest look in his eyes made me listen to him. Had I really been that bad?

"Oh, god."

I had.

He nodded.

I wanted to sink down into the floor, and the more I thought about it, the worse I felt. He was right. Ever since my first day at Kingston, I had been pretty universally, for lack of a better word, a bitch. Andrew, Bobby, even around Leslie and the other Princesses.

"Why have you put up with me so long already?"

Bobby laughed, and rolled his eyes. "Because, for some reason, I get the feeling that that isn't you." He shrugged, and took another bite of his food. The two of us sat in silence, thinking, while he chewed.

Finally, he sat down his silverware again, his tray empty. "Just do me a favor, okay?"

"What? Anything," I said, feeling more guilty by the moment for my behavior the last few weeks.

"Try and ease up a little. There are some jerks around here, but most of us are good people. Give us a chance, you'll see soon enough." He picked up his tray and walked away, leaving me to stew on his words.

I received little rest that night, instead spending most of it thinking over what Bobby had said. While I felt I had not been as bad as he had made it out to be... I had been coming close.

Was it because of the Princess program? If so, then that was only a small part of the problem, and it was not something I was going to give up. There was no other job left on campus that paid as well, if there had been any others to start with, and there was no longer any way I could separate myself from the program short of shaving my head and growing a goatee, and knowing how I looked that probably would fail as well.

If there was any part of the Princess program that was to blame, it was part that I was only just coming to grips with myself. I liked being treated like I was special. Paradoxically, that was also why it made me so angry and upset all the time. I had thought I had escaped the influence of my stepfather and his insistence on the ways that men and women were supposed to feel and act, but I was finally realizing that his views had affected me more than I had thought.

I did not think it was being treated as a girl specifically that I liked, though; that just happened to be how I guess you could say it manifested. No, what I liked about it was that people looked at me as though I were someone respected, someone important. That feeling was intoxicating, at the same time as it infuriated me that I liked it so much. Or maybe it was the inability to turn it off that made me so mad. The others, except for Sarah, just had to put on a pair of pants and stop shaving and they were accepted as normal guys. Even Bradley/Brandy and Wilson/Wendy, the two freshmen who had agreed to join, could get by as guys without too much trouble, but not me. The closest I came to being treated as a normal guy came from the students who actively disliked the Princess program, and I did not feel that their angry refusal to so much as look at me without a scowl really counted.

For years I had been forced to listen to my stepfather's rants about how men and women were supposed to act and supposed to be treated. I had always told myself I would never let myself think like him, but I was finally noticing just how much of what he said had affected me. Here I was getting angry because I was being treated like a girl when I was a boy.

Why did it matter?

"Why does it matter?" I asked myself out loud. Unfortunately, the room had no better answer to the question than I did.

There and then, I made a resolution. My first day at the school dressed as a boy I had decided that I would be myself despite how the others treated me. That night, I decided that if I chose to do that, then I had no right to object to their reactions to it. If they saw me as a girl, then I could accept that without anger. I HAD to. Otherwise, I was no better than people like my stepfather, who insist on men and women in their places. If my dad could do it, then I could too. I just had to do it on a bigger level, is all, but I had the advantage.

The school was safe. As long as I stayed here, or with other students, there was little danger of me facing the same dangers and persecution I knew my dad had to face sometimes. So, I should just let myself enjoy it. Experiment, and find what makes me happy.

If part of that is that people treat me like I am some kind of delicate flower, then I can handle that.

Just making that decision had me feeling better, and at last, I could fall asleep.

-15-

"I still can't believe I let you talk me into this."

"Oh, quiet, you'll enjoy it. Trust me."

"I'm trying."

I had thought that canceling my plans to go into town with Sarah on Saturday would give me the entire three day weekend to decompress and be alone.

It had been some time around midday Sunday that she tracked me down and informed me that she had talked the Head into changing my town pass to Monday instead of Saturday rather than canceling it, and that since she had gone to so much work to allow me into town I had no right to refuse unless I just wanted to hurt her feelings. I still was unsure of whether I preferred guys, girls, or both, but seeing a girl pouting had the same affect on me as most other guys, and that in combination with my new resolution to be nicer led me to agreeing.

The dress had not been part of the agreement.

"Couldn't you have found me something a little less... revealing?"

"What? Besides, it's nice and cool."

"It's the middle of September."

"And eighty-five degrees out."

"It could start cooling down any time. In fact, I think I'm feeling a chill right now." I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms for emphasis and trying to ignore the few beads of sweat that collected on them when I did.

She blew a raspberry at me and continued walking along the sidewalk. "Keep up or you'll have to be out like that all by your lonesome."

I rolled my eyes at her, but started walking again. At least the sandals were more comfortable than the heels I had worn Friday, even if they were wedges.

I had agreed initially to go into town with Sarah as a girl more out of boredom than any other reason, but seeing how happy she was to have someone to talk to outside of school made me begin to realize how alone she must feel on campus. Even among the Princesses, she stood apart as the only one of us as far as I knew who actually wanted to be a girl. That, I figured out, was why she had wanted me as a friend so badly -- because, while I had no desire to be a girl, I could never completely separate my boy self from the Princess. She might be officially dating Leslie now, which I knew had a lot of the regular boys at school scratching their heads, but in a lot of ways she was more comfortable around me.

To top it off, she was right. The dress was cool, and the strange padded bra-like object she had taped in place on my chest gave the impression of breasts beneath the yellow and white checkered material while still allowing the halter neck to showcase my bare back. All in all it was one of the oddest feeling outfits I had ever worn, and it was little comfort that she was wearing an almost identical dress in a solid green color.

"Ooh, come on in here! This is one of my favorite places in town!"

I followed her into "Chocolate Heaven" and up to the counter.

"Two large Chocolate Heaven Specials to go, please." She turned to me, her grin nearly splitting her face. "My treat."

"Coming right up, Sarah," the pimply faced boy behind the counter said before turning to the machines behind him.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head when he handed her two massive styrofoam cups with clear domed plastic lids, the kind with the large round hole in the top. The cups were filled to the brim with a dark, thick chocolate ice cream, and I could see large chunks of brownie and fudge penetrating the top. With a practiced hand, Sarah took a large canister of whipped cream off the counter and filled both plastic lids until there was an inch tall crest of white sticking right out of the top, and then handed me one of them, along with a long red spoon.

"Dig in!" She said, then took a large spoonful of her own, her eyes rolling back as she moaned in ecstasy. I looked over at the counter, and the pimply faced boy was watching her with a wide grin.

I hesitantly dipped my spoon into the sea of whipped cream, pressing downwards until I felt the ice cream begin to resist. I carefully pulled the spoon out, and looked at the dollop of chocolate topped in white cloudy cream. I closed my eyes so I could not see the boy behind the counter, and took a bite.

I heard another moan of pleasure, and opened my eyes to see Sarah giving me a triumphant look. The moan had been mine.

"I think we have another convert, Chuck," she said to the guy, and he just nodded before turning to the next customers in line.

We took our shakes and continued our exploration of the downtown area, Sarah giving me a brief history as she navigated.

"Persistence isn't a huge town, but that's one of the things I love about it. You can walk from the outskirts at one end all the way to the edge at the other in about seven hours, but in between there's lots of great little shops, restaurants, and places to hang out. It was great growing up here."

"You're local?" I asked her, surprised.

She nodded. "When I was offered a scholarship to Kingston my mom and dad were ecstatic. They thought that going to an all boys school, my dad's own alma mater in fact, would make me less girlish." She made a face, then laughed. "Luckily for me, I started the same year that Professor Uchiha took over from his dad and started the Princess program. My parents didn't like it much, but when they saw how much happier I was..." She grew quiet, a dark look crossing her face.

"Sarah? Are you okay?" I asked, approaching her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

She nodded. "Yeah. It was a lot harder that first year, you know? Now the students are more used to it, and the older ones help newer ones to not be so mean, but that first year there were... a few problems. That's why the Protectors were started, originally just by a few of the students who wanted to help us, but eventually the Head decided to make them part of the program so they would be compensated for what they were doing."

I squeezed her gently, and she wrapped her arm around me and squeezed back. Suddenly my dad's insistence on personal protection seemed much less overbearing than it had.

"Then why didn't they shut the program down if there were problems?"

"Because it also did what he had hoped it would. By the end of the first semester most of the troublemakers had been weeded out, and at the end of the second most of the student body agreed that they liked having the Princesses around. When we find two more freshman Princesses it'll be easier for you to see some of the things that caused so much trouble the first year."

"Like what?"

She sighed, but gave me a sad smile. "I think you'll probably find out soon enough."

We had been wandering around for a little over two hours when Sarah recommended we stop for lunch at a place called "Gizmo's," with a sign featuring a poorly drawn version of a mogwai holding a hamburger. Inside, the place was covered in old, dark paneling, and the booths looked like they were long past needing reupholstered. It was also stuffed full of kids around our own ages, all laughing, talking, and generally making a nuisance of themselves around the pool table and ancient pinball games in the far corner.

"Hey!" She called, waving to someone in a corner booth. I looked over, and there sat Leslie in boy mode waving us back, facing towards us across from someone else.

We pushed our way through the crowd and eventually reached the booth. Sarah slid in next to Leslie, giving him a quick peck on the cheek when he wrapped his arm around her, so I slid into the booth on the other side and out of the crowd before looking to see who was with us.

Almost like magic, all the noise around us died down at once, then after a few seconds, started up again.

"Did you eat already?" Sarah asked Leslie.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind?"

"Nope! I'm not that hungry. Welp, we'll just leave you two alone, shall we?" She said, then stood up, pulling Leslie with her. I just continued to sit there, mildly stunned, while Leslie gave me a look that said 'what could I do?' before following Sarah to the counter to procure stools.

Andrew slid around the back side of the booth until he was sitting across from me, looking down into his plate of fries. "This wasn't my idea," he said, picking up his fork and idly playing with the soggy bits of potato, rolling them about in ketchup.

I nodded.

"If you want me to go, I can." He went to stand up.

"No! Don't leave me alone!"

He gave me a scornful look. "So now the Princess doesn't want to be alone?" Then his face fell. "Sorry." He sank back down.

I shook my head. "No... I'm sorry. About what I said Friday night..."

"Look, you don't have to explain," he started to say, but I raised my hand to quiet him.

"Yeah, I do. Look, I talked to Bobby on Saturday. Did he tell you?"

The beginnings of a smile quirked one corner of his mouth. "He said you looked real cute when you pouted, but that's it."

I rolled my eyes. It figured. "Well, he really put it in perspective for me how I've been treating you. Listen, I know I've been, well, a bitch, and I'm sorry. It wasn't fair to you."

"It's okay."

I shook my head. "It's not. You're probably the only guy at school who's really tried to be friends with me, and I've done nothing but push you away. Can you forgive me?" I lowered my head and looked up at him through my lashes, intentionally going for a girly pouty look like I had seen Sarah use when she wanted Leslie to do something for her.

Andrew laughed, loud and long, and when he looked at me again, he had an honest smile on his face. "Well, since it's rare for a guy to get a girl to admit she was in the wrong--"

"Hey! I'm not a--"

"I guess I have to accept," he finished, sliding back around next to me. He hesitated a moment, looking nervous, then dropped his arm around my shoulders. How could I help but laugh? I leaned into the gentle hug, and after a second he took his arm back away.

We sat there in silence, but a comfortable one this time, for almost a minute.

"He was right, you know." Andrew said, looking at me strangely.

"Who?"

"Bobby. You really do look cute when you pout."

"Oh, shut up," I told him, but I was laughing and smiling when I said it.

(End of Part 5)

NOTES:

I think this is actually one of the longer parts I've done of this story. Hopefully everybody likes it!

I know I've been focusing kind of heavily on the interplay between Beck/Becky and Andrew, but since I consider them the two core cast members there's a good reason for that. Don't worry, though! The other cast members, including out two newest Princesses who you haven't had a chance to really meet yet, will play more major roles as the story goes on.

As a side note, I think I'm finally getting into the swing of things and actually developing a stable voice for the story. Horray!

Thanks for all the comments on the other chapters! And as always, if you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

Melanie E.

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 6: Princesses On Parade

-16-

I blew on my fingers, hoping to inspire some reaction in the polish I had applied that would make it dry faster. I looked over at Brandy, who was sitting next to me on my bed, and watched as she angrily grabbed the bottle of acetone and scrubbed her nails clean for the fourth time.

"Take it easy, you'll get it," Sarah told her with a smile from her position in the floor, where she was holding Leslie's hand and painting the nails while Leslie just gave her a sappy grin.

Sarah had quickly adopted Brandy as her own little sister in the Princess program, and for the past few weeks had been hard at work teaching her the ins and outs of presenting as a girl. At first Brandy had seemed to enjoy every lesson, but more recently she had begun to get frustrated with the hassle of getting dressed and presentable on our Princess duty days. Sarah's response when questioned was that while Brandy might be like her, she was much less feminine in her tastes than Sarah. None of us Princesses had asked her yet, but my view was shifting more and more toward Brandy being just a normal guy and not like Sarah, and I think Sarah agreed with me.

Of course, this gave me even more reason to again question why I was so accepting of things. Not that I "enjoyed" a lot of the Princess activities per se, but they were more annoying than frustrating, especially once I had grown used to them. I might not particularly like wearing makeup or girl's underwear, which I had found had an annoying tendency to ride up or down at inopportune times if I failed to choose the style carefully, but the accoutrements alone were never enough to make me angry, while Brandy seemed to get upset every time something came less than naturally to her.

"Here, let me help you," I said to her gently once my nails were sufficiently dry, and I lifted the polish from her trembling hands. "Lay your hand on my knee, and I'll do it." She gave me a relieved smile, and soon I was repairing the damage to her nails.

"She'll never get it if she doesn't do it on her own," Sarah complained, frowning.

"Maybe, but we all need to look our best for the show later. You can take the time to show her how to do it later, but for now it's better to have it done so we can get going."

Sarah pouted up at me, but I had grown more immune to her ever since the trip into town just over three weeks ago. My decision to lighten up on everyone had made a tremendous difference in a lot of the regular student population's reactions to me, and I had since managed to make a few friends among the "normal" boys at school. They still treated me like a Princess even when wearing the boy's school uniform, which is one thing that I did tend to find mildly frustrating sometimes, but I had determined that I just had to get over it, and had since worked hard at doing exactly that.

The entire school had been given the day off to help prepare for the drama class's production of "West Side Story," with those non-Princess parts of the student body either working on final touch-ups to props, setting up the seating and tables, or working on food preparation with the Culinary Arts club. The few students who had escaped any duties for the day were sent into town with several of the teachers to hand out last minute flyers and free tickets at a few key locations. We had sold most of our stock weeks ago, but the school was determined to have a sold out show for the evening.

Meanwhile, us Princesses had been confined to the "P" wing of the dorm hall to prepare for the evening. We had been divided into groups by Jules to help each other get ready, and had since been working slowly but steadily to prepare for the showing at 7, though we had to be ready by three both so we could have a final checkup on our costumes and serve as hostesses to the guests who would be attending the show, since even before the Princess program that had been standard procedure for the school.

"There, finished. Just don't touch anything with your nails for the next half hour or so just in case, and be careful with them tonight."

"Right," she nodded, smiling down at the color on her fingers. "Thanks." She gave my knee a gentle squeeze and stared at me for a moment.

"Uh, right. Oh! Isn't it time to meet up with Jules so we can all practice our lines a final time?"

Leslie looked at my alarm clock next to my bed while blowing on her own nails, and nodded. "Yeah, it's just about. We've got maybe another hour before we have to be behind the stage to make sure our costumes are fine, and then, ugh, the stage makeup."

Sarah made a disgusted face at the same time.

"What's so bad about the stage makeup?" I asked.

Leslie looked pained. "You remember when I did your makeup that first day? And you said it was all hot and heavy and too stark?" I nodded. "Stage makeup is like that, only worse. And we ALL have to have it done that way, even you and Sarah, and it's all oily and always makes my face break out."

I grimaced. That sounded like a horrible experience.

"Dammit!"

I looked over at Brandy, who was standing by the bathroom door looking down at her hand, and I sighed.

"Come here, let me fix it."

Not long after, there was a knock on the door -- the signal we had been waiting for to know when to head over to Jules' room for a quick final read-through of all our lines, for those of us that had lines, while the rest would read the guy's parts so we could practice our timing, at least a little. I had been less than surprised when I was told that because I had a higher voice than a lot of the other Princesses and had done well in the tests that I would have one of the larger speaking parts among the girls in the cast. While we would all have to help out as best we could in the singing parts, even Amanda, I would be one of the few who had to speak up at another time. I had chosen not to object mostly because I figured it would be good practice, since it seemed that most of the staff, and even the other Princesses, already expected me to be Sarah's successor as most-girlish Princess after she graduated the next year. If that were the case, I wanted to be as prepared as I could be for having to be.

The run-through of the lines went well. Those of us with lines had our parts down cold, and so long as nobody had an accident in the next few hours or messed up their dance steps we knew we would give a good performance. Brandy and Wendy just stood to the side, laughing at us in seeming confidence that they would be more comfortable than the rest of us since they were playing the greaser's girls, with their poodle skirts and leather jackets and only one line between them.

As we made our way to the backstage area, I felt a buzz start to go through me. I might not have been expecting it, but as the time approached for our production, I was growing more and more excited. In fact, I was finding that I was actually looking forward to doing the musical.

We had had to cut down and restructure some parts of the play to make it fit both our allotted time and because none of us were professional dancers or singers. As a result, while we had most of the major numbers, including "I Feel Pretty," to Sarah's delight, but had been forced to cut or combine some of the others. In the end, I felt confident that we had a solid interpretation of the story, and I was sure that our audience, which would mostly consist of parents and alumni would enjoy the show.

The fitters were waiting for us when we arrived, and the people who would do the stage makeup were right behind them. It was time to get started.

-17-

"It wasn't your fault, Leslie. Seriously, I doubt she blames you."

Leslie just sat on my bed with his hands in his hands, staring at the floor.

The musical had started off well, but unfortunately one thing after another had started going wrong less than halfway through. One of the speakers in the sound system blew, filling the room with static in the middle of a song, followed shortly by a miscue on the lighting throwing the entire stage into shadows when the people running the sound and lights panicked trying to fix it. While the lights were down, the actors on stage had stumbled around running into each other and generally having a chaotic time of it.

By the time the lights came up, props were knocked over, the stage completely trashed, and Leslie was laying at the floor at Sarah's feet, holding a long piece of cloth in her hands that had been the skirt of Sarah's dress.

There had been silence in the auditorium for what felt like five minutes before Sarah ran off the stage, crying while trying to cover herself. Leslie had just lay there with a shocked look on her face while everybody else tried to recover. In the end, the curtain was drawn, not to be raised again, and the showings for the next two nights were cancelled.

As soon as we had gotten back to our rooms, Leslie had changed back into his boy's clothes and came over to my room, where I had yet to change, too busy trying to figure out who to check on first. Consequently, I had been sitting next to him all night while he cried on and off, keeping him company and helping him cope. I wanted to check on Sarah, but I could not leave him alone in the state he was in.

"I have to talk to her," he finally said, his voice raw from crying. "I have to apologize." He stood up, but made no move for the door, instead giving me a pitiful look. "Will you go with me?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding, then stood up. I had been in the dress for over six hours now, and it was wrinkled from where I had sat on it as well as from Leslie's crying on my shoulder. "Can I change first?"

He nodded. "I guess so, but... no, never mind."

I looked at him, and I could see the question in his eyes. I closed my eyes for a moment before moving, but when I finally went to the closet, I pulled out a casual girl's top and a skirt.

"You don't have to..."

"I know," I said, cutting him off, "but you wanted me to."

Leslie just hung his head while I went to the bathroom to change.

I could understand. After sitting there crying on my shoulder for over three hours, he wanted to be faced with as little evidence of me being anything other than the girl Becky as possible. I had no doubt I would have felt the same way if it had been me crying on someone's shoulder, it just was not the kind of thing that guys typically did together. As tenuous as my grasp on being considered a guy even in boy's clothes might have been, it was still more than he really wanted to deal with.

Even with that, combined with how upset he was, he had thought enough of me to actually stop himself from asking, at least out loud. He would never force me to do it, but I would do it if it helped him to feel better.

Once the tank top and skirt were on and I had made sure I looked okay, I stepped outside.

"Ready?" I asked him, and he nodded. A quick glance at my bedside alarm told me it was almost midnight. With any luck, Sarah would still be awake, and the teachers would be lax on curfew.

We made our way down the silent halls, Leslie clutching my arm tightly. I was now more than glad I had made the decision to dress as a girl if Leslie were this bad before ever reaching the room. The last thing I wanted to imagine is how bad he would have gotten without me there for him to lean on, or worse I suspected, me there as a boy to try and be tough in front of.

When we finally reached Sarah's door, I was more than relieved to see a light still shining under it. I gave Leslie a gentle shove, but he remained frozen several feet back, his face ghastly white and his hand sweaty on my arm.

"I can't," he managed to gasp out, and tried to pull me back toward my room. I refused to move.

"You need to do this, Leslie," I said to him, placing my hand on his wrapped around my arm.

He gave me a desperate look. "Will you go in first?"

I sighed. "Fine. But if you run off while I'm talking to her, then that's it, and I won't help you next time, okay?" I did not wish to be mean to him, but I felt he had to understand. He nodded, and let my arm go, backing into the shadows away from the door.

Left alone, I walked up to the door and knocked gently.

"Go away!" I heard Sarah croak from inside.

"Sarah?" I called through the door, "it's me, Becky. Can I come in?"

"Becky?"

"Yeah."

I heard her sniffle, then a shuffling sound. Soon, the lock on the door clicked, and Sarah slowly cracked it open, looking out at me through the gap.

"Are you alone?"

I shook my head. "Wait!" I called when she went to close the door.

"I don't wanna talk to anyone else!"

"They'll stay out here, it'll just be me coming in, okay?" I gave Leslie a look in the shadows, and he nodded, sinking down to the floor.

There was silence for a brief moment, then the door cracked again before swinging open, letting me into Sarah's room.

I walked in, and gave Sarah a long hug before casting about for a place to sit. Unlike the other Princesses, Sarah's room had a decidedly feminine look to it, as though she were trying to emphasize her girlishness in the middle of the sea of masculinity that was the all boys school. The walls were a pale green, and she had throws and comfortable mushroom chairs strewn about the room. She also obviously had obtained permission for custom bedding, her twin topped with a purple and green striped comforter with a large stuffed tiger sitting in the middle.

I settled onto her bed, and in a flash she had wound herself around me the same as Leslie had done in my own room.

"Oh, Becky, it was so horrible! I was just standing there, and all the lights were on, and they SAW!"

"They saw what?"

"They SAW, Becky! IT!"

I squeezed her gently, trying to comfort her, but I still did not understand what she was saying.

"Sarah, I still don't know..."

"They saw my panties!" She wailed, digging her nails into my arm. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, and did my best to bear it. "I haven't... I can't until I'm eighteen, and even then... it's... they SAW, Becky!"

"Shh, shh, it's okay Sarah. It's okay. Shh." I continued to pat her back as she cried into my shoulder, big gasping sobs, and wondered what she had done without anyone around. Looking at the tiger, I noticed its crumpled appearance and the tear stains on it's fur.

"They know, they know and they hate me. They... oh, Becky, I never want to go outside again!"

I finally got it. Sarah worked so hard to prove herself a girl every day, and the one thing in the entire world that absolutely proved her body was different had been put on display. She was mortified, she was scared, and she had nobody to turn to.

Except me.

It must have been half an hour again that I sat there and let her cry into my shoulder before her sobs finally calmed down, and when I gently shook her arm her head snapped up and she looked at me groggily.

"Wha?"

I laughed. "Did you fall asleep?"

She frowned, but did not start crying again.

"It's okay," I said before she could object. "I do have someone outside who wants to talk to you, though."

Panic crossed her face. "No! They all know! I can't-"

"Sarah!" She went silent, shocked by the harshness of my voice. "Sorry," I said to comfort her, "I didn't mean to yell. Nobody hates you, okay? Okay?"

She nodded, but said nothing.

"In fact, the person who wants to speak to you wants to apologize for what happened, but they were too upset to come in themselves at first."

"Leslie?"

I nodded.

"But... she grabbed my skirt! It ripped and-"

"I know, but it wasn't on purpose."

"I know, but..." She mumbled something, too quiet for me to hear.

"What was that?"

She sighed, and tears began to fall from her eyes again. "She knows now, and... he won't like me any more."

I gave her one more squeeze, and helped her up. "I can promise you that's not true," I said, leading her toward the door. Then I looked down. "But you might want to get dressed before I bring him in."

She looked down at herself, and let out a soft "Eep" before dashing for the closet and locking herself inside.

"Sarah..."

"You saw too!"

"So?" I said, exasperated, but still concerned for my friend. "Sarah, everybody here knows, and most everyone who was at the show already knew too. If there were any who didn't, well, they probably weren't paying attention to your panties."

"It's embarrassing!"

"I know, sweetie," I said, surprising myself with my own words, "but you've just got to face them and be strong."

After a long moment, she came out again, wearing a pair of feminine track pants with a tank top rather than the tatters of the dress. I opened my arms, and she gave me another crushing hug.

"Now, are you ready to talk to Leslie?"

She looked into my face and nodded her head slightly, and together we opened the door.

-18-

"I'm really really sorry about yesterday."

I gave Sarah a thin smile. "It's okay, stop apologizing."

She continued to cling to Leslie's arm as we made our way to the cafeteria for breakfast, with me on her other side for additional support.

I was tired. I was cranky. And I was dressed as a girl, again, though I only had myself to blame for the last one. We had been up past three in the morning, Leslie assuring Sarah that no, he did not hate her and no, he did not think she was weird and yes, he still wanted to be with her, all while I sat by and watched and helped to calm Sarah down during her occasional freakout.

The end consensus was that Sarah would be okay, but the one accident was enough, and she was determined never to go on stage again. We had convinced her that nobody at the school would think less of her, but she had refused to come out of her room for breakfast until we had both agreed to walk with her.

We had all spent the night in her room. Leslie was still wearing the clothes he had put on the night before, a couple of traces of eye makeup and chipped paint on his nails the only remnants from the play. I had wanted to go back to my own room to change into perhaps a comfortable pair of sweats and a baggy tee, but looking at Sarah and Leslie, both still nervous wrecks despite being reconciled, I decided it would be for the best if I could remain there for them as much as possible. Instead, Sarah had insisted I borrow some clean clothes from her since mine were crumpled and stained with tears again, and after a quick shower I was now wearing a pair of girl's jeans and a peasant top, hoping to spend at least Sunday dressed as a slovenly boy before classes resumed on Monday.

The halls were surprisingly quiet, even for a Saturday, and though I had almost been expecting him to be standing at the foot of the stairwell waiting for me, Andrew was nowhere to be seen. I took this as a small blessing, as I felt the less personal interaction Sarah had with the non-Princess males at the school until we knew she could remain calm the better.

It was a long, slow trip to the cafeteria, with both Leslie and I worried about Sarah and determined to turn right back around at the first sign of tears in Sarah's eyes. Luckily, as we made the trip she seemed to emotionally steel herself against the onslaught of abuse she was expecting, and when we at last reached the cafeteria doors she had a determined look on her still somewhat pale face.

Leslie and I shared a look before pushing the double doors open and stepping into the room.

Nothing happened.

No one in the room turned to look at us, or to jeer, or any other cruel action. No conversations stopped. If anything was out of the ordinary, it was how abysmally ordinary the entire cafeteria was acting.

All but one table.

Off in the corner, away from our normal table at the head of the room, sat the Princesses. All of them, including a rather uncomfortable looking Brandy and Wendy, had dressed in casual girl's clothes, and were waving us over.

For a second I was unsure of what was going on, until I saw Sarah visibly relax at the sight. Then I knew.

I kept an eye out as we made our way to the table, and started to notice more details about the layout for the day. The two tables to the exposed sides of the Princesses were both mostly full of students I knew and recognized as members of the Protectors, while even as I watched there were three or four others, including Andrew, Bobby, and Charles, roaming about the other tables, talking to the other students and especially focusing on the couple of tables where I could see several students giving Sarah cold and calculating glares.

When we reached the table, all the Princesses stood up and came forward to take turns wrapping Sarah in hugs and give her words of comfort.

As I watched, and saw a few tears of relief fall down Sarah's face, I finally knew that the Princess program, even with all its problems and annoyances, was exactly where I wanted to be at the school. Despite being boys at heart, all of the Princesses had embraced their femininity as fully as they could for the day in order to give Sarah the support she needed after the accident last night, something that none of them could have done as their boy selves, nor did I think that Sarah would have let them.

We settled at the table, and Sarah began to talk. And talk, and talk. She let it all out, everything we had helped her through the night before, but this time, she kept from freaking out. This time, she knew that she had not just my support, and not just Leslie's, but everyone's.

Occasionally, one of the Protectors would come over and speak to one of the girls furthest from Sarah, gathering information on her condition I took, until near the end of the meal the Head himself came up to the table, smiling.

"Good morning Sarah. Girls," he said, nodding to the rest of us. His face shifted to one of concern. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay? If there's anything I can do, please, do let me know."

Sarah gave him a smile of her own. "Thank you, sir. But, I think I'm gonna be alright." She looked around at us, and gave Leslie a small hug and a peck on the cheek, drawing a slightly disapproving look from the Head, but he said nothing.

"Well, that's good. Just remember, if you ever need to talk, you can either come to me, or the school's counselor. We're here for you, if you ever need us."

"Yes, sir."

The Head nodded his approval, and turned to go, but only made it a few steps before spinning around with a nervous expression on his face. "Oh. And, Sarah?"

"Yes?" She asked, curiously.

"Please, try to keep the public displays of affection down. We don't want all the other boys here to feel jealous they don't have a beautiful girl on their arm."

With a twinkle in his eye, he turned again to leave, and our entire table burst out laughing while Leslie and Sarah shared an embarrassed grin.

(End of Part 6)

Notes: Another slightly rushed part, I'm afraid. We've had computer errors at work for the past week, leaving me quite stressed and with little time or desire to write. However, I made myself sit down and slog through the mush that's left of my brain just so that you wouldn't have to miss the next part :P

Coming Soon: It's Halloween at Kingston Academy, and Becky and the other Princesses are less than enthused about their costumes. In addition, there's a surprise in a freshman who steps forward and ASKS to join the Princess program! Coming next Sunday (with any luck,) Princess For Hire Part 7: Princess Buttercup?

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

Melanie E.

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.)

IN ADDITION, a special note for this chapter: at some point over the next couple of days I might go back and redo parts of this one. If I do, I'll post a blog about it, but it's pretty rough, sorry :(

Part 7: Princess Buttercup?

-19-

"Blossom, Bubbles, or Buttercup. Which one?"

"I didn't think you were serious about having us dress as the Powerpuff Girls!"

Julian just grinned, and held up the store-bought costumes again. "Well?"

Winston looked agonized, his eyes darting back and forth between the costumes, before closing his eyes and grasping one at random.

"Oh, good, you're Bubbles!"

"Aww, crap!"

We all laughed, though I could understand Winston's reluctance to wear the light blue costume and blonde wig. At the same time, though, I had little sympathy for him considering my own costume, and the fact that he at least would not have to suffer the indignity of being fitted for his by the tailors.

"Come on, Bradley, you next."

His eyes bulged for a second, before he blurted out "Blossom!"

Julian looked down at the costumes in her hand before grinning and tossing him the pink one with its matching red wig.

"What's gonna happen with the last costume?" Kirk asked from his perch atop the teacher's desk in the unused classroom we had been given to use for our Princess Program meetings.

"Why, do you want it?"

"NO!" He yelled, in a disturbingly high voice.

Julian gave a theatrical sigh. "Then I guess it's just going to have to go to our newest Princess."

The room was silent for a moment, before almost everyone began to speak at once.

"Who?"

"When?"

"WHY?"

"What?"

"Where?"

"And how!" Julian said, with a grin, then clapped his hands. "Come on in, newest Princess!"

I heard a timid shuffle from just outside the room's door, then a slow creak as it was pushed in.

"Come on, nobody here will bite you!"

In walked a boy I had never seen before. Most of the members of the Princess program were on the scrawny side, but the person who walked though the door looked as though they would disappear if they turned sideways. Mousy hair, freckles, and a pair of large, cheap glasses made it obvious why we had not considered him for the program earlier -- he was one of the most easily forgettable looking people I had ever seen.

"Um, hi," he said in a small voice as he walked into the room, watching his feet. Despite this, he somehow managed to trip over nothing coming through the door, and landed face down in the floor before any of us could catch him.

"Are you okay?" someone asked, but he simply nodded and pushed himself up off the floor.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to the newest member of our little club, Rupert Jones, or, Ruby Jones, depending." Julian threw the last costume to our new arrival, who caught it clumsily. "Or, for Halloween, our very own Princess Buttercup."

"Hi," I said, amid a chorus of similar greetings from the other guys around me.

Rupert gave us all a small smile, then waved. Suddenly, he erupted in a blush befitting his new Princess name, and dashed from the room, gripping the costume to his chest. There was a small crash from the hallway, then the rapidly disappearing sound of footsteps.

"What was that all about?"

"We'll have to work on that shyness a bit, but I think we've got a good candidate there," Leslie said, looking at Sarah. "When is he moving into the "P" wing of the dorms?"

"Done did!" Julian said. "He was taking care of it with some of the Protectors while we had the first part of our meeting." He looked at Andrew. "He's got the room on the other side of your bathroom, I hope that's not a problem?"

Andrew shook his head.

"Good!"

After that, the meeting continued on as normal, or at least as normal as it could with everyone's attention turned to our newest member. Though we tried to return to business, it was quickly obvious that no more work would be done, so we spent the rest of the meeting discussing how Rupert/Ruby would do. The general consensus seemed to be that he would do well if we could get him to lighten up a bit.

Unfortunately, with Halloween only three days away, none of us expected to have him ready in time.

-20-

Again, I found my eyes inexorably drawn to Sarah's cleavage. The green of the Frankenwitch, or Witchenstein, I can never remember the name, actually looked good on her, and the choker with neck bolts attached was oddly cute. The rest, what little there was of it, was well made, if a bit... scarce.

I had trouble seeing Leslie's face through the wolf half-mask, but I was sure that under the foam rubber muzzle she had another one of her goofy smiles plastered on, since her eyes were pointed the same place as mine.

"Okay, you two, stop staring," Sarah said, wrapping her arms around herself in an attempt to cover up. She had an embarrassed expression, but it was tinged with a touch of what I thought was pride as well.

I looked down, then quickly regretted it. Looking down only served to draw my eyes to the overstretched bust of my own outfit.

Normally there was little to nothing that Princesses were required to do to simulate busts or other more feminine aspects to their figures unless they wanted to. A few of the other Princesses, like Amanda, used some padding and other helpers to enhance their look and draw away from their more masculine features, but I for one had never gone for it. With how many problems I had concerning my looks already, why would I?

Beside the few times I had gone out with Sarah as a girl and she had given me minimal padding to use, I had never had anything in the chest department, so the special cups sewn into the chest of my outfit filled with the same type of foam rubber as Leslie's mask had been made from made me supremely uncomfortable.

"They're 'C' cups."

"Oh, thank you SO much for that information," I told Sarah with a sneer.

"You look at mine, I look at yours," she said, coming forward and poking the padding on my left side.

"Hey!"

She giggled and stepped back. "Now you know what it's like."

Leslie wrapped her in a hug from behind. "Mr frflfr fr grwlfr."

"What?"

"Mr frflfr fr!"

Sarah spun around and slapped her on the shoulder playfully. "Take the stupid mask off you dope!"

Leslie reached up and unfastened the mask from the specially made strap behind her ears. "I said that I liked yours better," she said, grinning.

"Oh, shut up," Sarah complained, blushing.

"Alright, everybody, out!" I said, pushing the two of them still clinging to each other toward the door. "I need some sleep for tomorrow, and I'll be getting up early if I want to be able to get this costume on again in time."

We said our goodnights, and the other two left, leaving me to myself. I reached up to unfasten the cape from around my neck, but found myself stopping before I actually began. Instead, I walked over to the mirror on my closet door and looked at myself.

I had to admit, the outfit looked good. It was a bit different than the standard Vampwitch costume featured in the comic, but only in areas where it needed to be because of my unique situation. Instead of the low-cut top that would usually be worn underneath the decorative corset -- much more comfortable than the one sewn into my cocktail dress -- there was a light-fitting dressy blouse with something I think called a cravat attached. The cape was short, with a pattern on the inside picked out in a shiny black thread of spiderwebs, and on bottom I had the by-now almost ignorable short skirt, with fishnet stockings and a pair of knee high boots with some kind of odd cuff at the top. Close enough to the original that, when combined with the outfits of the other Princesses, there would be no question of who I was, and a lot more expensive-looking than I would have expected from the school.

Having around two months of occasionally dressing as a girl under my belt had at least allowed me to get comfortable enough with it to be able to identify what looked good on me and what failed, and the costume definitely looked good. As uncomfortable as they made me, the faux breasts did add a great deal to the overall effect. I still had no intention of making something similar a normal part of my costume, but the look was striking.

With a sigh I began the tedious work of removing the costume, glad that Sarah had agreed to wait until the morning to work on the makeup, meaning I did not have to worry about washing that off first. I was already expecting tomorrow to be a long and arduous day, and every second I had to sleep before then was precious.

As soon as I was stripped down, I slid into a pair of boxers and then into bed, to dreams of being Vampwitch and fighting the demons over New Salem.

-21-

For the first time since my arrival, I entered home room to the murmurs and whispers of the other students. I knew I looked different, even from my normal Princess attire, but I had not thought it was that different.

Soon, though, I realized that the murmurs were not for me. Instead, sitting there at the front of class, was...

"Ruby?"

The girl in the green outfit turned and gave me a timid little wave. Gone were the glasses -- was she wearing contacts? The wig looked like far better quality than the one that had been supplied with the costume, but had the same little flip to its style as the cartoon character, and the outfit itself was something to behold.

The store purchased costumes had been our idea as a kind of pseudo-hazing for the incoming freshmen, something I had luckily been allowed to skip, again because of my "unique situation." We had not wanted them to look bad, but we had wanted them to be obviously cheap. Her costume was fitted in such a way as to emphasize curves I was relatively sure had not been there when she had appeared before us in her boys' school uniform.

That, along with her makeup, which mimicked the rosy-cheeked look of the cartoon as closely as could be done in real life, added up to make her a far cuter Buttercup than I had anticipated.

The reactions of the boys around her proved it, as those sitting directly to either side of her seldom managed to remove their eyes from her face and legs. She stood up to come and greet me, her eyes still focused on the floor, when she tripped and started for the floor.

"Oof!"

"Ike!"

"Ow!"

Before she ever reached the tiles there were already three boys beneath her, cushioning her fall. With a start, she quickly pushed herself up and off of the pile, then covering her face dashed out around the desks and out the door.

I looked up to Professor Johnson, and without a word he waved me toward the door while rubbing the bridge of his nose. Without another second's delay I left the classroom.

She was standing just outside the door in the empty hallway, with her back against the wall and breathing hard. She glanced up at me nervously, with a look of fear in her eyes.

I hesitated to speak, afraid to run her off, but I eventually worked up my courage and asked as gently as I could, "is everything okay?"

She shook her head, but did not speak.

I was unsure of what to do, so to buy some time I leant against the wall next to her. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shook her head again. Finally, she seemed to work up the courage to speak. "I'm just scared, is all."

"Why?" I asked, then nodded. "Never mind, I think I know. It's a lot more nerve wracking than you thought it'd be, isn't it?"

She gave me a relieved grin.

"I thought so," I said so, smiling.

The grin faded from her face. "But it's so easy for you. Even on that first day, you were so... calm, and cool. I thought 'if she can do it, why can't I?'" She laughed nervously. "It wasn't as easy as it looked."

I passed an eye over her costume and makeup, and came to a realization. "This isn't your first time dressing, is it?"

She looked like she wanted to bolt again, so I gently laid my hand on her shoulder to calm her. "It's alright, you know. I don't think it's weird."

"...you don't?"

I patted her shoulder. "Nope! My dad's a drag queen, so he's told me a bit about why some people like to do it. What's your reason?"

She began to speak, but stopped herself before uttering a single syllable. Finally, after several more aborted attempts, she said, "I dunno. It's just something I have to do. I just feel so much more, relaxed I guess, when I'm dressed as a girl. I used to just do it when my big sister would dress me up in her clothes and we would play games, but then I started doing it on my own and..."

She sniffled for a moment, then looked up at me with sad eyes. "I thought, if I did this, it would help me fit in. Can you believe that? I did THIS," she gestured at her outfit, "to fit in."

I said nothing.

"It's pretty stupid, I know."

"No, it's not. Misguided, maybe," I said, grinning, "but it's better than my reason."

"Why did you join the Princesses?"

I shrugged. "Well, for the money, obviously."

She laughed. "With how you look I wouldn't think you had a choice." She saw the look on my face at that and blanched. "Oh god, I'm sorry, I didn't think."

I just shrugged again. "So, you ready to go back to class?"

We returned to class, and she gave everyone a smile, then returned to her seat.

"If the drama's over..." Professor Johnson said, and soon class was in full swing.

I spent the rest of the day casually looking out and watching for Ruby, shocked by how many classes of mine she was in and I had never noticed. At the same time, I found myself marveling at all the costumes, too many of them wonderful beyond description.

However, there was one person I found surprisingly absent.

I never saw her once all day, until at last dinner came around, and he entered.

"Hey, Julian, where have you been all day?"

He gave a loud guffaw, then pointed at all of us sitting at the table in our costumes. "I got to skip today, thanks to these great costumes!"

"What?"

"Why?"

We all wanted to know, but he happily strung us along all through dinner, until at the very end we pinned him in the corner and demanded to know.

With a final laugh, he waved his hand down his body. "Ladies, today I went to class... as Invisiwitch."

Those of us with food left threw it at him, while everyone else simply threw their hands in the air and groaned.

(End of Part 7)

END NOTES: As I said at the start, this part's really rough. I just finished it about ten minutes ago as of the time of writing this note, but if I wanted it up today I didn't have much choice but to post it as is. I'll probably look it over tomorrow and try to fix some of the problems, including how little focus there actually is on the Halloween aspect, but until then hopefully people will like what I've got.

If you think I need to rework it, let me know. If not, let me know too! Either way, always remember: if you comment, more will come. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

Melanie E.

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 8: The Princess's Attendance

-22-

"Mister Henderson, stop talking and pay attention!"

I looked up at Professor Swift and started to explain, "but sir..."

"Now, Mister Henderson. If you want to waste your time visiting with your friends, do so when you are not in my class, do you understand?"

Sarah glanced between the two of us, then gave me a light hug. "We can finish this later," she said, then waved to Professor Swift and left the room.

"Now that everyone is ready, shall we return to the lesson at hand before our distraction?"

I wanted to say something, anything, to the jerk standing at the head of the classroom, but I held my tongue and settled back in my seat. Who was he to pick on me in front of the entire class? Sarah had given him the note explaining why she needed to speak to me, and we had not been more than a couple of minutes when he had started in. While I could understand him not wanting his classroom time taken up, he could have just asked us to step out.

It was just another in a long line of actions I had witnessed Professor Swift perform that were unnecessarily mean toward either me or the princess program in general. Of all the teachers, he was the only one who objected to our occasionally having to leave class to prepare for our Princess duties, yet he did not hold the sports teams to the same standard. He would always try and find something wrong with out uniforms to get us in trouble when he would see us in the halls, and on more than one occasion I had heard that he had actually tried to prevent us from being allowed to attend his classes if we were dressed as Princesses.

I could not help but wonder what kind of absurd reason he had for hating us so, and I was determined to find out.

Even Algebra with Professor Cooper was not enough to keep me from thinking on the issues with Professor Swift, and I was distracted through my entire class. By the time etiquette class rolled around, I was thoroughly obsessed with finding out what his problem really was.

"Do you know why Swifty has such a problem with the Princess program members?" I asked Andrew as he pulled out my seat and gestured for me to sit.

"I dunno, Jules never said. She just always complained about him being a jerk."

I nodded as I took his hand to stand up again.

"Good!" The old bat called as she came toward us from across the room. "Did you all see how graceful miss Henderson was, and how gallant young mister Stone looked? That is why you must learn proper manners and etiquette. Everyone follow their example!"

I gave Andrew my "I hate it when she does that" look, and he answered me with his "I do too" look, an exchange we had shared many times since the etiquette class had been expanded to include the non-Princess program boys three weeks earlier. It being only another week and a half until Parents Day, and then the Thanksgiving break, I felt the school had cut it rather close if they wanted the guys to look natural using said manners in front of their parents, especially considering it had been deemed necessary that those of us playing the roles of Princesses needed almost two months more practice. Ever since "the boys" had joined, as those of us in the Princess program had taken to calling them, each day the old bat, whose name I could never remember, would pick a couple to stay together the entire class and demonstrate exactly what and what not to do.

For some reason, Andrew and I had quickly become her favorite targets, something Sarah, Leslie, and Jules all had an absolute blast teasing us over.

"Now, for those of you still having trouble with this most basic of..."

I tuned her out and quietly asked Andrew, "so what do you think we should do? I'm really getting tired of dealing with him in class."

"You could always ask the Head if he could change your schedule."

I shook my head. "That would just put things off until later. If I've got to deal with him, I'll get it out of the way early, but I'd much rather find out what's going on."

He gave me a funny look. "What's up with you and the Nancy Drew act all of a sudden?"

I smirked and poked him in the shoulder. "I just figured I needed another outlet since I'm not using you for an emotional punching bag any more."

"Thank god," he said, giving me a smile.

I think we were both relieved that the tension between us had relaxed so much. After Leslie and Sarah's less than subtle attempt to get us to talk on the trip into town, I had made a concerted effort to watch myself carefully for any signs of quote unquote "bitchiness." It had gone well so far, and after a while even Andrew's discomfort with seeing me as a girl seemed to have lightened up a great deal, an outcome I found more than worth the effort of keeping my own attitude in check.

By the end of class, though, we had come no closer to coming up with any ideas for how to find out what Professor Swift's problem was. With Drama being our next class, we knew we would not have any time there to plan anything, Professor Grumby already hard at work preparing us for our next production after the abysmal failure of West Side Story. Thankfully "Macbeth" required little in the way of singing or dancing, leaving less room for error outside of line readings, but that alone was enough of a problem for most of the class thanks to the archaic language of Shakespeare.

Instead, we planned to meet later that evening after dinner with a few of the others to see who, if anyone, had some idea of what was going on. If nothing else, it would give us a better place to start our search for answers, not to mention make everybody's days a little bit easier.

-23-

"Does it really matter?" Jules asked us. "From what I've heard Ol' Swifty's always been that way, even before the Princess program was started. I'm not going to say he didn't get worse with it, but what are we supposed to do about it?"

I looked at him, surprised at his unwillingness to take action. "Don't you think it's unfair how he treats us?" I looked around us, waving to the crowd of Princesses and Protectors. "Who of us hasn't had to deal with him being a jerk?"

"Exactly," Jules said smugly. "EVERYONE gets it, not just the Princesses. It's just the way he is."

I growled in frustration. "Yes, but WHY? Hasn't anybody complained about it?"

He shrugged.

"Don't you care?" I asked.

"Hey, I just want to finish school and have some fun why I'm here." Jules frowned. "I've stayed with the Princess program because it's kind of fun messing with people's heads, even when they're expecting it. Otherwise, what's the point?"

"The money."

"The girls."

"The clothes."

"Who knows?"

"Exactly," Jules said when everyone else had quieted down.

I rubbed my temples, hoping that would help to ease the headache that was starting to form. Then, without warning, I had an idea.

"Oh, no. What evil scheme are you planning now?" Jules asked with a weary look when he saw my smile.

"You like messing with people's heads, right?"

"Duh."

I felt my smile grow wider. "And what would mess with people's heads more than seeing Ol' Swifty being brought down a peg or two instead of being allowed to lord his authority over us like he does now?"

Apparently my smile was infectious, because a similar one began to sprout on Julian's lips.

"Wait a second, guys," Amos said, stepping out from the wall he had been leaning on and walking toward us. "I don't think this is such a good idea. If we go snooping around and asking questions about Professor Swift, he's bound to find out. All it will do is make him angrier."

"Wouldn't that be part of the fun, though? The danger?" Jules said, taking up the argument on my behalf.

I sighed and settled into a seat, prepared to let the two of them take over. There was a gentle nudge from my right.

"That was pretty sneaky, you know."

"What was?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"Convincing my brother that it'd be fun to do this crazy idea of yours so he'd handle the others."

"Did I do that? I wasn't aware."

In my peripheral vision I could see Andrew shaking his head. "You're something else, you know that?"

"I try to be."

We spent the next half hour watching Jules slowly convince the others to work with us on finding out what to do about Professor Swift. Someone would raise an objection, or bring up an issue, and Jules would find a workaround or through sheer charisma convince the others that it would not be an issue. Meanwhile, I simply sat back and watched it all unfold.

I felt a little guilty about manipulating the situation, but I also knew that Jules would have an easier time convincing the others to work together. There were still a few of the Princesses I hardly knew, while it always seemed that Jules had some kind of secret file on all of us of embarrassing stories or gossip. If anyone could convince you it was in your best interest to listen to them, it was Jules, and I was more than surprised I had been able to manipulate him as easily as I had.

"And you," he said, pointing to me after having talked all the others into agreeing to help.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Don't think I don't know what you did earlier. I'm keeping an eye on you from now on." The others had already begun to file out, and he followed them, looking at me and pointing back and forth between us the entire time until at last only me, Andrew, and Sarah were left in the room.

"I feel sorry for you if this goes badly," Sarah said, her face blanched.

I simply nodded. The fact that Julian had still been smiling had been little comfort.

-24-

"I'm sorry I got you in trouble today."

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I mean, I should have known better than to do that when you had a class with Professor Swift."

I looked into my mirror and back at Sarah. "It needed to happen. No biggie. Besides, we need to finish the plans, otherwise we'll never be ready in time for Parent's Day."

She sighed, but did not look into the mirror or into my eyes. Instead, she turned her attention back to my hair.

"Can I do pigtails again?"

"You ALWAYS do pigtails," I harrumphed.

"Because you look good in pigtails."

"Oh, alright."

"Yay!" She said happily, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down.

I was less than enthused, myself, though I knew I should have expected it when I had agreed to let her play with my hair. Since the administration had decided to have of all things a pep rally the next day, though, including the bright idea of having us Princesses wear our cheerleader uniforms to class, Sarah had been excited about making as many of us look like authentic high school cheerleaders as possible.

I thought it was just an excuse for her to have fun doing something stereotypically girly, but it made her so happy I never had the heart to tell her no.

"So how are Rupert and Brandon doing under your expert tutelage?" I asked her, trying to restart the conversation that had suddenly stopped.

She laughed. "Well, Rupert seems to know almost as much about makeup and things as me, when you can convince him to actually share any information. Brandon... I'm still not sure about. He acts interested, up until it comes to actually learning all the information, then he gets frustrated if he doesn't get it the first time."

"And Wendy?"

"She's been working with Kylie more than me. They seem to have really hit it off, but I don't talk to them much."

I nodded, having begun to realize myself that even within the Princess program there were small cliques and groupings that had more in common with one another.

"What about you? You've been talking to Rupert a lot yourself."

I shrugged. "I think it's interesting how much he likes dressing as a girl, and how good he is at it."

"Kinda like you?"

I shook my head, causing her to complain when the pigtails flew into disarray.

"Sorry. No, he's not like me. I mean, not really."

I saw the smirk grow on her face in the mirror, but I ignored it. Despite what she might think, I had in fact been giving thought to what I thought of dressing as a girl pretty much constantly since joining the program. I was sure that I did not enjoy it in the same way that Rupert did, but talking to him and getting another perspective on things, from someone who did not necessarily want me to like dressing as a girl but did themselves, had begun to help me piece together my own feelings.

"I was also pretty surprised at you with that meeting this afternoon."

"Yeah, I'd thought it would be harder to convince Julian to go along with it."

"Nah, I knew you could do it. You've got more feminine wiles than you care to admit, and Jules has always liked playing pranks and getting into trouble," she said, soliciting a sharp "ow!" from me when she pulled on a particularly stubborn tangle. "I meant more that you wanted to take action to begin with. I had figured you more for the kind to sit back and deal with things as they come."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I was quiet for a moment, thinking about how to answer her.

"Not that it's a bad thing," she said.

I reached up and scratched my nose, buying time before answering her.

"I think," I finally started, "it's because I feel like I need to DO something, you know?"

She shook her head while I struggled to find a better way to say it. In the end I gave up.

She finished my hair, and gave the pigtails a couple of playful bats before proudly proclaiming "done!"

I looked in the mirror, turning my head left to right and admiring her work with the school color ribbons entwined in my hair. "You realize, of course, I'll never be able to do this in the morning."

"I'll help!"

I had expected as much.

"And I think we should use the same style with the dresses we're wearing on Parent's Day."

"Ugh, please don't remind me," I complained, my mind rebelling against the vision of lace and ruffles and who knows what the tailors had worked up for our Parent's Day dresses.

She giggled as she collected her hair supplies and headed for the door that lead through the bathroom between my room and Leslie's. "Now I get to work on my boyfriend's hair!"

"What are you planning for him?" I asked.

She giggled again. "Oh, trust me, I have something REALLY special planned for her!"

I was unsure whether to feel Sorry for Leslie or not as Sarah's giggled died away with the closing of the door.

(End of Part 8)

Notes: This week's chapters are brought to you courtesy of Tom Servo and the rest of the MST3K crew. I found this site called justin.tv, and there's a user there with a channel that shows nothing but user requested episodes of MST3K 24/7, which I've had playing in the background while writing. So many bad movies, so little time to mock them. *sigh*

Hopefully the quality of the chapters this week is better than last week's. This part comes between some of the more interesting events of the story, so it's not as interesting as a lot of the others will be, but it needed to happen to move things forward. Trust me, it will all make sense and fit when we get to the end :)

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

Melanie Ezell

PS: Special thanks for the ideas for the Parent's Day costumes goes to Princess Chelsea. While I'm keeping the exact details quiet for now, the next part is for you!

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 9: The Princess And The Queen

-25-

I looked down at myself in my freshly pressed uniform and sighed. Parent's Day, and I found myself yet again stuck in a girl's uniform.

I hated to admit it to myself, but in actuality I would almost prefer to meet my dad wearing the girl's uniform rather than the guy's, if for no other reason than I knew it made me stand out. It had been over three years since we had seen each other in person, and I kept having these horrible thoughts of him walking in, and even though I would wave to him over and over to get his attention he would never recognize me.

On the other hand, when we finally met each other again after so much time, I wanted him to see someone he could be proud of, and for some reason I felt like seeing me in a skirt and blouse would be more likely to make him laugh.

Not that it mattered. All the Princesses would be wearing their girl's uniforms for the day, so at the least I knew that I was not the only freshman worried about what their parents would say when they saw them.

I cannot be certain how much longer I stood there, staring at myself in the mirror, but my attention was eventually broken by Leslie walking in through the bathroom door.

"Oh! Sorry, I figured you would be ready by now," she said, turning away with a blush.

"Don't worry, I am," I said, laughing. I turned around and on impulse gave her a hug.

"Uhmm, thanks?" She said, when I backed up. "What was that for?"

"For... I don't know... just being here." I looked down at my feet, studying the scuffs in my formerly shiny mary-janes. "You've been a lot of help lately and, I guess I'm just nervous."

Leslie giggled, squeezing me around the shoulder. "It's alright. You've been working a lot more with Sarah than me, though."

I shrugged. "Maybe, but you're still my big sister."

Her face lit up when I said that, and with a skip in her step she threw my door open and waved me out. "Come on, little sister and get a move on, it's Parent's Day!"

We stepped out of my room to find Sarah and Andrew already waiting for us. Sarah eagerly took Leslie's hand, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and admiring the Heidi braids she had put in the night before, while Andrew stood to the side, for once looking more uncomfortable than I in his stiff suit and tie.

"Rebecca," he said, giving me a sketchy bow.

"Andrew," I returned, dropping into a sloppy curtsey and fighting to keep a straight face.

"Alright you two, enough playing around, time to get going!"

"Yes, mom," I whined, standing up and rolling my eyes at Sarah, who giggled and started dragging Leslie down the hall, while Andrew and I followed along behind about a foot apart.

"She seems excited," Andrew said, as we watched Sarah talking animatedly to Leslie as the two of them led the way to the cafeteria.

"She is," I told him. "She's from Persistence. I'm looking forward to seeing my dad, since it's been years since we've seen each other, but it must be almost as rough on her, knowing her parents are so close but hardly ever getting to see them."

"Why haven't you seen your dad in so long?"

I sighed. I knew I would have to explain eventually, but today was not the time I wanted to. I decided to give him the short version. "When I was really little, my mom and dad divorced and afterward my dad came out as gay. I used to get to visit him fairly regularly, but about five years back he started to get into the drag scene and when my mom found out about it she threw a fit. She convinced the stepfamily to move further away, and my dad couldn't afford to pay my way each direction for me to see him, so I haven't had a chance to do more than talk to him over the phone since."

"But he's got custody of you now?"

"Yeah."

"How did that work out?"

This was where things really became uncomfortable. "I don't get along well with my stepfather. My stepfamily in general, really. I love my mom, and I know she thinks she was doing the right thing and all, but the rest of them don't care about me and think I'm some kind of freak."

"You're not," Andrew said, when I stopped there.

I gave him a smirk and gestured down my body. "My stepfather tried to tell me I couldn't go to Kingston when I was accepted. It hurt my mom's feelings, but I told her that if they didn't let me go, I would get Dad to take legal action. It was the first time I ever really stood up to my stepfather, and even then I had to do it through my mom." I laughed. "My mom gave my dad full custody after she had a fight with my stepfather over things. At least I think that's how it worked, I never did get all the details of how and why. Funnily enough, though, even though I was stuck there with them until school started nothing really bad happened. So, now my dad's got custody of me, and as far as I know my stepfather won't even let my mom write to me."

Andrew gently grabbed my arm and frowned down at me. "I'm sorry you had to deal with someone like that."

I shook my head, and looked up into Andrew's eyes. "I feel more sorry for my mom. I think things are better for her without me there, though." I could feel tears trying to flow, and quickly reached up to make sure they would not mess up the makeup I had worked so hard that morning to apply.

Andrew wrapped me in his arms. It was strange, the first truly intimate contact we had ever had, but I let him, and it did help me feel better.

"Ah hem," a teacher's voice came from behind me, sending me and Andrew flying apart.

"No PDA's, you two," professor Grumby said, giving us The Eye.

"No sir, I mean, we weren't..."

"Sir, it was just-"

"Now, now," he said with a smile, "I know how you kids are, and I'm a liberal, after all, 'no prop eight' and all that, but it's against school rules."

"Yes, sir," we said in unison, our voices so quiet as to be almost whispers.

"Good. Now, move along."

We moved, and made it around the next turn in the hall before we looked at each other and broke up laughing.

-26-

If there was one thing that I was not looking forward to concerning our contribution to Parent's Day, it was the outfits.

Not that they were bad outfits, per se, but rather that they were exceedingly feminine.

I gave Leslie a wry grin. "I don't think this is exactly what the school had in mind when it asked us what we would do for Parent's Day."

She laughed. "Me neither. But it is good for a laugh, wouldn't you say?"

"Only if you're laughing AT us."

"But of course," she said, with a grin of her own.

All of the campus clubs were required to contribute something to the Parent's Day activities, whether it be the drama club performing famous monologues from different plays, the culinary club providing refreshments, or the school band playing a selection of old Swing music in the cafeteria. The school considered the Princess Program to be a school club for the purposes of events like these, so in addition to any other club responsibilities we might have, we were all expected to provide some form of entertainment that only the Princess program could provide.

That was why I now found myself in a pink, ruffled dress covered in lace and holding a tray, waiting to deliver drinks to parents waiting in the next room.

I had to admit, I had worn far more revealing and provocative outfits before, but this one took the cake as far as embarrassment potential. Reaching to mid thigh, the skirt stood out a good six inches from my legs on all sides, supported by a cloud of netting and lace. Ribbons had been woven into the fabric, crisscrossing up and across my torso, adding a shiny rose detail to the otherwise pastel pink dress, with even more lace at the neckline and around the openings of the short, puffed sleeves. All of this was accented by yet more lace in the form of a short white apron, and cream stockings with more rose-colored ribbons wrapped about them.

The small, plastic tiara was just another laughable topping to the already horrendously little girlish outfit, leaving me feeling as though I were the victim of an explosion in a cotton candy factory.

"Here you are, sirs. Is there anything else I can do for you?" I asked as I curtsied to the gentlemen sitting at my assigned table. They shook there heads, and I began to turn around and head for my next table when there was a tug at my skirt.

"Ooh, ooh, mommy I want a picture with her!"

I looked down, and there stood an adorable little girl, wearing a dress that would have looked at home in a fairy tale book. She looked up at me with a broad toothy grin, and jumped up and down in excitement.

"Mommy, please, she's so pretty can I have a picture with her pleeeeeease?"

The woman standing behind her gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry about this, but would you let me take a picture of you and her together?"

"Um, okay, sure," I said, blushing.

"Yaay!" The little girl said, jumping up and down even more, causing her pigtails -- very similar to mine, I was less than surprised to notice -- to bounce around merrily. "Over here!" She said, grabbing my hand and dragging me over to a table where Jules was busy serving drinks.

As we walked, the young woman with her bent down and whispered in my ear. "We didn't have the heart to tell her you were all boys. She's only six, and when she saw how much alike you looked she dragged me and her dad in here. If it's a problem we can tell her no."

I shook my head, and gave the gleeful little girl next to me a glance. "That's alright. I wouldn't want to spoil her day," I whispered back.

The girl's mother gave me another smile. "Thanks."

"Daddy, you take a picture with us too!"

"Okay, sweetheart," the man she had stopped next to said, picking her up and setting her on his knees. "Do you want to stand behind me, so we can all be in the shot," he asked me, "or would you prefer that I stand so you can sit down?"

The little girl fidgeted until she was only on one of her father's knees. "She can sit with me!"

"Honey, I don't know if that's appropriate..." her father started, but petered out when she gave him what can only be described as "puppy dog eyes." He gave me a desperate look.

I shrugged. I had done more embarrassing things since becoming a Princess, including wearing the dress to begin with. What could one photo hurt? "I don't mind, if it will make her happy."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. We both shifted about uncomfortably for a moment, until finally I managed to maneuver myself onto the edge of his right knee.

We all smiled, and after a few quick flashes the photos were done. "Thank you so much!" The little girl said, jumping off her father's knee and wrapping me in an unexpected hug.

I gave her a quick squeeze back. "You're welcome."

She giggled, then ran off again, leaving me standing there with her parents.

"We're sorry, and thank you again for letting her have her picture. We can compensate you if-"

I waved them off. "No, that's alright. I didn't mind, really." I gave her father a smirk. "I'm more sorry if it embarrassed you, sir."

He laughed. "It's alright. I guess it's pretty obvious that she has me wrapped around her little finger, though."

I laughed along with him. "Just a little."

"Brother, see the princess I took my picture with?"

I looked up, and had to suppress a further laugh as Stewart stumbled up, hand held in a death grip by the little girl.

"Hi Stewart."

"Hi," he mumbled. "Um, Becky, isn't it?"

"Yep."

He tugged on the little girl's hand, causing her to giggle again. "Sorry if Rosie was being a nuisance."

"I'm not a nuisance!" The little girl, Rosie apparently, said with a pout.

He shook his head. "Well, um, it was nice seeing you again... I guess. See you around?"

I nodded, and gave Rosie a wave. "Bye Rosie!"

"Bye Princess Becky!"

I returned to my work, sure that I would be grinning like an idiot the rest of the day, and sure enough for the next half hour there was nothing too embarrassing or that could keep me from remembering how happy little Rosie had been with our picture. Then my day was made even better.

"Well, I certainly didn't expect to see you in something like this," a familiar voice said from behind me.

I spun around, and looked up into the warm, smiling eyes of one of my favorite people in the entire world.

"Dad!" I cried, as I wrapped my arms around my father's neck in the first hug we had shared in far too long.

-27-

I had known I would be emotional when I finally had a chance to see my dad in person again, but I had never expected to be so happy to see him that I would end up crying. Regardless, that is exactly what I did, tears of happiness running down my face as I kept a death grip on him. In the back of my mind I vaguely wondered if I would have felt so free to express myself if I had been dressed as a boy. Yes, I determined, I would.

It must have been at least five minutes before I finally let go, and when I backed away I saw that my dad had been crying too.

"Take the rest of the day off," I heard Jules say from behind me as her hand rested on my shoulder. "Go visit with your dad." I gave her an appreciative nod, then waved my dad toward an available table.

"Do you want to change before we sit down?" He asked me, gesturing to my outfit.

"Why?"

"No reason," he said, with a smile. He pulled out one of the chairs and waited expectantly.

"Oh!" I said, finally getting it and settling myself into the seat as he pushed it in to the table. He took the seat immediately across from me and sat, his hands clasped before him.

"You do look beautiful," he said, still with that same warm smile on his face. "I'm proud you've taken so well to things here."

"I like it here," I said. "It's a good school, and most of the teachers are great, and even this," I waved down my outfit, "can be fun sometimes."

He nodded, laughing. "Don't I know it. You have no idea how crazy some of the girls at the club went when I told them my son was a Princess at an all boys school. Of course, they went on to mention that it wasn't much of a surprise," he said, with a dramatic flourish of his hands, "given who your father is. They want pictures."

"Heh, they aren't the only ones," I said, then told him about Rosie.

"Well, I might have to track them down and ask for a copy or two of that."

"I doubt they'd mind." I sighed in contentment, and just looked at my dad for a moment. "I missed you so much," I finally said, feeling the tears start to well up again and fighting them back.

"I know, Beck, and I'm sorry it took so long for us to see each other."

"I understood," I said, wiping my face with a napkin. "I knew money was hard for you to come by even when we were living closer together, and that mom and... them, would have thrown a fit if we had asked them to help me visit you."

He nodded, a grimace on his face. "Still, I should have worked harder, I should have...." He choked up, then moved quickly to the chair beside me, wrapping me in a hug again from the side.

I leaned into my dad, enjoying the closeness. I felt him rumble slightly beneath me, and looked up.

"What?"

"We're getting some odd looks from the other parents, and a few of you fellow students."

"Who cares."

We just sat there for what felt like forever, and still all too short a time, just feeling the comfort of being near one another again. Eventually, though, I had to break the silence.

"Are you staying for Thanksgiving?"

"I wish I could, Beck, but I've got another show that the club manager said he needs me to do."

I sighed. "At least you made it down here for Parent's Day."

He squeezed me gently. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving, then? I would take you with me, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We'd have to drive because you couldn't afford plane tickets for us both."

"And by the time we got down there,-"

"It'd be time to turn around and come back up," I finished for him, punching him playfully in the shoulder. That had been a major part of the reason that I had stayed with my mom between the custody change and school starting, after all. "But you are letting me come home for the summer, right?"

"Nope! I thought I'd send you out on your own, to explore the good old U S of A with nothing but a backpack and good intentions."

"And then bail me out when I'm arrested for hitchhiking."

"Good point," he said, cradling his chin in his hand with a look of mock pensiveness. "Perhaps it would be better to bring you home."

"I think so."

"Then that's what we'll do. But, Thanksgiving?"

I grinned. "My friend Sarah," I pointed her out to him, across the room and waiting on a table, "said I could spend it at her place if I couldn't go home with you."

"She's the local one, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, have fun. But not too much fun. Not until you're eighteen."

"Dad!"

"Well, she is a cute girl..."

"And dating Leslie, dad."

"Which one's Leslie?"

I pointed her out to him.

"Hah! Your school certainly is something else, that's for sure."

"Yeah," I agreed. "But... I think it's better like this."

"Me too, son, me too."

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm wearing a dress."

We both fell apart laughing after that, and turned our conversation to catching up on everything we had missed over the last three years. There was a lot to catch up on, but I found myself focusing more and more on the events of just the past few months at the school.

All too soon, it was time for us to close up shop, and I had to tell my dad goodbye.

"I'll miss you, Dad."

He gave me one final hug, then backed away. "I'll miss you too, Becky. I'll try to save enough to have you home for Christmas, though."

I smiled, and nodded. "Now get out of here or you'll miss you plane!"

He started to walk away, then stopped and turned around again, a sad look in his usually happy eyes. "There are other planes, but I don't get to see you every day."

"I know," I said, "but we'll see each other again very soon."

"Maybe, but how soon?"

A single tear I could not stop traced down my cheek. "We'll find out soon enough."

(End of Part Nine)

Notes: I'm still not QUITE happy with this part. Like part 7, I'll probably go back and add more to this later, but it'll be after I finish the rest of the story, so no worries on it happening too soon :P

The comments on the last part were a bit scarcer than normal. As a result, funding for this post was cut. I had to hire an efficiency expert, who recommended laying off half the staff I use for proofing/editing/testing. Of course, half of 'none' is no major loss, so the story suffered little for this cutback.

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

Melanie E.

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 Ten: A Thanksgiving Interlude (1)

-28-

I tapped my foot, nervous and unsure about the coming weekend.

"Relax!" Sarah said as she lowered the handle on her rolling suitcase and sat down on it carefully. "Everything will be fine!"

I gave her a tight-lipped smile and tried to calm myself down, unsuccessfully. I knew she was telling the truth, and I had met her parents briefly just a few hours ago during our parent's day events, but that helped very little in the face of spending the next four days with them.

Sarah giggled, as best as I could tell amused at how tense I was. "Seriously, they liked you. Just try and have fun. And look on the bright side, no princess duties for four days!"

That had me grinning. Though skirts and the other accoutrements of the Princess program caused me few if any problems any more, it was still a relief not to have to deal with them in an official capacity for a few days. For once in a long time, I could escape the stress of being a Princess and just be Beck, or even Becky as I knew Sarah would ask if we could go out as girls at least once.

A few deep breaths, and I at last managed to calm myself, and settled down on top of my own duffel bag to wait for our ride.

Even without the Princess duties, I had still not managed to completely escape girl's clothes for the next four days. Without a whole lot of clothes at the start of the year I had expected to have to do laundry quite often. The Princess Program had helped to relieve my clothing problem somewhat, if in an unexpected direction, but the clothes were not exactly masculine. Despite that, I had taken to using some of the girl's underwear even on my days dressed as a boy to help fill in the time between laundry days. On top of everything else, once I had learned what styles worked for me and what did not, it had become more comfortable to wear the girl's underwear that fit rather than the old, threadbare boy's underwear I had.

I shifted on my bag, vaguely regretting my choice to bring only the girl's underwear.

"There they are!" Sarah called as she bounced to her feet, startling me. I looked up in time to see her mom, a short Asian woman who looked like an older version of Sarah, and her father, a stocky gentleman with graying hair, both walking toward us with smiles on their faces.

"Are you two ready?" Her father asked as he was assaulted by Sarah wrapping him in a hug. "Hey princess."

Her mom gave me a soft smile and reached out her hand. "Come on, we won't bite, I promise!"

I took her hand and stood up, then we both grabbed our bags and followed them out to their silver van, warm and waiting for us.

"Thank you for letting me come over to your house for Thanksgiving, mister and misses Graham."

"Please, call me Sakaki. And you're very welcome. We're just glad Sarah has another friend like herself at the school."

"Mom!"

"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused.

"You know!" She gestured at Sarah, a knowing look on her face.

"Um, Mom, Beck isn't... oh, god."

Now Mrs. Graham was frowning. "She isn't? But I thought with how she looked."

I sighed. "It's okay, Sarah." I looked her mom in the eyes. "I don't want to be a girl like Sarah does, Misses Gra- er, Miss Sakaki. I just, uh... look like this."

"But... when you stood up I saw your panties," she said, confusion evident in her tone.

"MOM!"

I sunk into my seat and wished desperately that I had simply stayed at the school.

We spent the rest of the twenty minute ride explaining to her parents exactly what my situation was. No, I was not 'like Sarah' in that I did not want to be a girl. Yes, I was part of the Princess program, they had seen me in my pink dress earlier. Yes, I knew I looked very pretty (their words) and not much like a boy. I quickly grew tired of their well meaning but still stressful attention.

Finally, I had enough. "I'm sorry I've caused you so many problems, if you need to take me back to the school I can-"

"Oh, no! We can't do that!" Sarah's father said, giving me a stern look in the mirror before giving that same look to his wife and daughter. "You are a guest of ours, and you will be treated with respect. I apologize for our confusion, we simply assumed that because Sarah always talked about you as a girl that was what you preferred."

I glanced over to see that now Sarah was the one with the blush on her face.

"Sorry," she said quietly, not looking me in the eyes.

I squeezed her shoulder lightly. "It's okay." When she looked up, I gave her a smile. "Really."

I turned to her father, already regretting what I was about to say. "Sir, if it would make things easier, I could be Becky for the weekend."

"Really?"

"NO!" Her father bellowed. He seemed shocked at his own outburst, but quickly recovered. "No," he said again, much more calmly. "You don't have to dress as a girl just because we had the wrong idea. Thanks to Sarah," he gave her a loving smile in the rear view mirror, "we've learned our lesson about making people be someone they're not."

I felt the tension I had not noticed building drain from my shoulders at his words. I truly did want to just relax this weekend, and while I could handle the clothes, knowing that I would not HAVE to wear them was a relief.

Sarah tugged on my sleeve lightly.

"Yeah?"

"Umm, even if you don't spend the weekend as Becky, can you at least spend one day as her? You don't have to," she said quickly, when she saw her father's glare in the mirror, "but if you want to, I was thinking we could just have some fun?"

Her mom coughed lightly from the front, gaining our attention, and gave me an apologetic smile. "I, uh, had planned for us to have a girl's day out on Saturday already."

"Sakaki, don't make him do it if he doesn't want to."

I shook my head. "It's okay." I sighed, and glanced over at Sarah again. "So long as the rest of the time it's up to me how I dress, okay?"

Everyone in the vehicle nodded their heads solemnly, and I sat back and pondered my situation. Something told me I would be spending more than just Saturday dressed as a girl. As I had said, so long as they did not pressure me into it, that was okay -- I had been expecting as much, hanging out with Sarah, and had packed a couple of outfits just in case as it were. It was looking more and more, though, like my Princess-free weekend was slipping away.

I vowed to buy some better fitting boy's underwear at the first chance, as well.

-29-

We pulled up in front of a beautiful two story white house in a nice neighborhood, complete with white picket fence and a large shaggy white dog tied to a lead in he front yard. As soon as Sarah climbed out of the car, he began to jump up and down, barking excitedly.

"Hey Marley," she said, jogging up to him and wrapping him in a hug as he eagerly licked her face.

I watched for a few seconds before heading around to the back to grab my bags, only to find Mr. Graham standing there with both Sarah's bags and mine thrown over his shoulders.

"Sir, I can help," I said.

"That's alright," he said, smiling at me. "Go introduce yourself to Marley while I take these inside."

I looked back over to see Sarah pinned to the ground by the large pooch and laughing as he slobbered all over her, seemingly immune to how dirty he was making her clothes. With a chuckle of my own I hurried over and crouched down next to her.

As soon as I approached Marley backed up, letting Sarah up, and gave me a curious look. His tail was still wagging, though, so I was pretty sure everything was okay.

"Marley, this is my friend Beck. Beck, this is my little brother Marley."

"Hey boy," I said, holding out my hand. In a flash I found myself on the ground in the same position Sarah had been moments before, a happy but heavy dog on top of me.

"Marley, down!" Sarah commanded, grabbing his collar and pulling him back, letting me up. "I think he likes you."

"I'm glad," I said, a bit breathlessly.

"Kids, come on in so we can get things sorted!"

"Coming Mom!"

I followed Sarah into the house, feeling more comfortable by the moment. The walls were filled with pictures of Sarah and her family, including a tall older boy I could not recognize. In all the pictures they looked very happy, almost like the perfect family.

"There you are," Sarah's mom said, coming around a corner and seeing us standing in the front hallway. "Oh, look at this, I'm sorry about that Beck, Marley is a big sweetheart, but he still thinks he's a puppy half his size."

"It's okay," I said smiling as she tried to dust the worst of the grass and dirt from mine and Sarah's clothes, tutting all the while.

"Well, you can change as soon as we get you settled." She gave me a nervous glance. "We, uh, had been expecting you to share a room with Sarah, but since things aren't exactly how we thought, I'm afraid you'll be sleeping on the living room couch."

"Can't Beck use Tommy's room?"

"And leave me on the couch?" I voice I had never heard called from the room she had came out of, followed by a tall, athletic looking young man who I recognized from the photos. "I don't think so."

"Tommy!" Sarah squealed with even more excitement than when she had greeted Marley. She tackled the tall young man, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I thought you were still on tour?"

"I got out home yesterday," he said, grinning, as he wrapped his own arms around her.

"Tour?"

"Tommy's in the army," Sarah answered me when she finally let him go. "Tommy, this is Beck, my best friend. Beck, this is my older brother Tommy."

He held out his hand to me. "I see you already met our little brother," he said, looking at my stained and dirty clothes.

"Yup. Nice to meet you," I said, taking his hand and preparing to shake it, but surprised when he instead lifted it and kissed the back.

"Charmed," he said, giving me a thousand watt smile while I stood there, speechless.

Sarah giggled. "Uhm, Tommy?"

"Yeah, sis," he said, never looking away from my face.

"Beck's not like me, he's a guy."

The smile slowly drained from his face, to be replaced by a blush. "Oh." He dropped my hand and stepped back, coughing nervously. "Sorry about that, dude."

I struggled to find something to say, while Sarah moved from giggling to outright cackling at our matching blushes.

"Sarah! Stop teasing your brother! Tommy, why don't you go help your dad with the steaks for dinner?"

"Yes, mom," both Sarah and Tommy said at the same time.

"Sarah, why don't you help Beck set up in the front room?" Mrs. Graham said, handing her what looked like a large-ish roll of plastic while Tommy made a beeline for what I assumed was the kitchen. Then she winked at me. "And I'm serious about not teasing your brother, he was only trying to be nice."

"Okay," Sarah said in a sad voice, then turned to me with a smirk on her face. "Come on, let's get you set up."

We entered the comfortable room and set about clearing a space out of the way where she unrolled what turned out to be a blow-up mattress and proceeded to fill it with a pump, taking turns.

After several turns each, I turned to Sarah. "Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you serious? About me being your best friend?"

She nodded. "Yeah! I mean, I know it's kind of weird since we've only known each other a couple of months and all, but... yeah."

I was taken aback. "But I thought Leslie was your best friend?"

"Well... I like Leslie. A LOT," she said, grinning with a far away look in her eyes. "But, I dunno, it's not the same." She frowned for a moment. "Don't take this the wrong way, okay?"

I nodded, having a feeling I already knew what she was going to say.

"Leslie, I see as a guy. And I'm sorry, but-"

"You don't see me as one," I said, interrupting her. She looked at me, and I thought for a moment she was about to cry, so I wrapped her in a hug. "It's alright, I guess. And I'm honored, really. You're my best friend, too."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

It was true. Leslie might have been my mentor in the Princess program, and he was a great guy, but as much as it annoyed me, I knew he saw me as more like Sarah too, as did the other Princesses. What was it about me that made people think of me as a girl? Was it just my looks, or did I behave in some kind of overtly feminine way? Whatever the reason, it has created an almost imperceptible barrier between me and most of the other Princess program members that I had no idea how to cross. The only one who did not seem to have that was Sarah. As a result, I had grown closer to her than any of the others, and the more I hung out with her the easier it was for me to see how badly she needed someone else around who she could identify with.

We spent the rest of our time preparing the room in silence, but a comfortable one. Occasionally Sarah would look at me, and I imagined I could see a glimmer of relief in her eyes.

I had decided a while ago that I was not going to feel sorry for myself over things, and this was just another part of that. She really was my best friend. And if part of that was her thinking of me as a girl, then I knew that I could live with that if it helped her be more comfortable.

-30-

"Wake uuuuuup, sleepyhead."

I rolled over, pulling the blanket up around my head to block out the light.

A sudden tug and spin, and I screamed as my retinas were burned by the brightness.

"Come on!" Sarah said, lightly smacking me with the end of the blanket she now held in her hands. "I've been trying to get you up for half an hour! We gotta get ready to go to my grandma's for Thanksgiving!"

I clawed about for a pillow, slamming it over my eyes as quickly as I could. "Alright, I'm up! What time is it anyhow?"

Six thirty, we've gotta get ready if we want to make it to her place by two. If you get up soon there might be some of my dad's homemade waffles left."

"Waffles?" I asked, grasping for something to give me a reason to bother getting up.

"With chocolate chips, covered in karo syrup and butter..." Sarah said, in soft tones right next to my ear.

"MMmmmmm...."

"If you want them, then get up!"

"I bet I can get her up," I heard Tommy say. Then I screamed again as the mattress beneath me began to slide sideways. I reached for the edge blindly, but only managed to send myself rolling to the floor with a sound "thump."

"Oh, geez, are you okay?" Sarah asked, sounding worried.

I groaned. "Those waffles better be worth it."

Thank goodness they were.

Thanksgiving had dawned a bright and crystal clear if incredibly cold Thursday morning, and after finishing the world's most delicious waffles I was sorely tempted to curl up in a blanket near a heat vent and doze the day away. Unfortunately for me, all of the Grahams were almost annoyingly perky on this particular morning, and I soon found myself thrust into a bathroom with a handful of clothes and ordered to take a shower and get ready for a big day ahead of me. Luckily, long practice had given me the foresight to double check my clothes before starting my shower.

"Sarah!"

"Can't blame me for trying," she said sheepishly as she handed me a pair of my own jeans and a polo shirt to replace the skirt and blouse I had been given. As I washed, I cursed my bad luck that everyone around me any more seemed to be such morning people while I would not object to sleeping in until noon on a regular basis.

In addition to getting dressed, I was also expected to help prepare a handful of dishes to take as well. Sarah worked on a pie with her father while Tommy made some kind of casserole. Having admitted I had no experience cooking beyond the occasional bag of popcorn and a few other microwave dishes, I had been relegated to helping Mrs. Graham remove vegetable sushi from a large plastic container and arrange it on a platter to take with us.

"I can't cook to save my life, that's why Alan does all our meals," she said to my curious expression. "But when he first introduced me to his parents, they went crazy over the fact that I was from Japan, never mind that my family moved here when I was only six. Ever since, they've expected me to bring some kind of 'authentic Japanese food' to every family outing, and I've just never had the courage to tell them the truth." She grinned. "So we buy it from a restaurant in town and move it over to our own dishes. As far as I know, nobody's figured it out yet."

We both had a good laugh over that, and before I knew it it was time for us to pack up and head out. Because there were so many of us, it was decided to split into two vehicles. Tommy would ride with Sarah's dad, whose name I had learned was Alan, while Sarah and I would ride with Mrs. Graham and the food.

The trip out to Sarah's grandparents' house was filled with laughter and conversation, and I had a chance to experience a happy family situation like I had not seen since before my mom and dad had divorced. It was enough to make me long for such a family myself. In the end, though, I knew it was not meant for me, and instead contented myself to be able to be a part of this loving group even if just for one weekend.

After over two hours of driving we eventually stopped in front of a long ranch-style home in the middle of the woods with what must have been a dozen cars, trucks, and SUVs already parked in front. We waited for Tommy and Mr. Graham to arrive, and when they had caught up each of the adults took a dish and had Sarah and I lead the way to the house.

When we reached the front door, Sarah rapped the old iron knocker three times, then stood back, waiting for an answer.

(End of Part 10)

NOTES:

Sorry for this one being up a day late! I got an Xbox 360 last week (I know, I know, I'm a total game geek, okay?) so that kind of cut into my writing time a bit. On top of that, I spent a lot of time trying to work out how to get everything I wanted for the Thanksgiving break into one part, and it just wasn't happening, so we're looking at a two to three part set here, meaning that the time until I take my break has been extended by as much as two weeks!

I hope y'all enjoy this part of the story, I plan on it being a lot of fun, and it's part I've been looking forward to even though it isn't necessarily required for the main story arch.

Melanie E.

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 11: Thanksgiving Interlude (2)

-31-

I walked out of the bathroom clutching my old clothes in my hand to find Sarah standing there waiting for me. When she saw my face, she shrugged her shoulders and grimaced in a way that said quite clearly 'I tried!'

"Now come here, sweetie, let me see. Oh, now isn't that so much better on you than those old boy clothes, a girl as pretty as you shouldn't be dressing like that."

"Yes, Mamma Graham." I said, suppressing my sigh and trying to match her smile.

"Good. Now, come and help me with setting the table."

Sarah and I had been standing at the door for only a few seconds when it had been pulled open. Before me had been the biggest, most adorable eyes I had ever seen on a human even though they were on a small woman who must have been old enough to be my grandmother's mother.

"Good morning, girls!" She had said in a melodic voice and wrapped us both in hugs. "You must be..."

"I'm Beck," I had said, "nice to meet you, ma'am."

"You can call me Mamma Graham, sweetie" she had said, giving me an extra squeeze, and I had known then that I would never be able to say no to her.

Miss Sakaki, Mr. Graham, and Sarah all tried to tell her that I was a boy while Tommy had simply looked on bemused, but the little old lady was like a whirlwind of good-natured misunderstanding. She thought I was like Sarah, and could not be swayed, so I had eventually pulled the three of them off to the side and told them to let it drop.

That had been when she had spoken the ominous words.

"Dearie me, I was so glad when Sarah stopped trying to dress like a boy. Honey, come here, I've got something for you."

I had thought Sarah's puppy-dog eyed pout was bad enough, but I soon found out she held nothing on Mamma Graham.

At least the dress was warmer than my old clothes, I told myself, or as warm as a calf-length dress could be anyhow. My sneakers looked somewhat out of place with it, but the plain white did not clash too badly with the cream and yellow print dress.

As soon as I walked in the kitchen, I heard Miss Sakaki gasp, and when I looked about I saw Mamma Graham giving her a broad grin.

"See? She's so much prettier when she wears pretty clothes, isn't she?"

Sarah's mom simply nodded, giving me a sad look. I smiled at her, and shook my head, trying to let her know it was okay.

In a way, it was actually somewhat of a relief to get it over with. Though I had wanted to be a boy for at least the majority of the weekend, and everybody had told me that was fine, there had been a tension between us that I had known was because of my presentation. They had expected a girl, in a way at least, and instead had gotten me. It probably would not have been so bad, but with my looks...

Now, I knew that tension would be shattered. For better or worse, I was Becky for at least the rest of the visit at Mamma Graham's home, and more than likely the rest of the weekend. Considering it, I surprised myself by realizing how little difference it actually made to me.

Soon, all my thoughts were taken by helping the rest of the women in the house prepare the table and take care of any last minute food items that may have been forgotten. I had never gotten on well with my mother's or stepfather's parents, and my dad's parents had died before I was born. Seeing how much love there was not only between Sarah and her own parents, but her grandparents, and aunts and uncles and too many cousins to count, it was a powerful experience.

"Hey, are you okay?" One of the random aunts whose name I had not managed to catch asked me worriedly.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you're crying," she said, with a frown, and reached up and wiped the tears I had not noticed falling from my cheek.

I laughed. "I'm fine, really. I'm just not used to seeing a family as close as this."

She gave me a small hug. "Well, get used to it," she said. "As long as you're here you're part of our family. Right girls?" She asked the rest of the room.

A chorus of yeahs, yups, and of courses answered her, and I found myself being passed around to all the aunts and cousins there. When I eventually reached Sarah and her mom, they both hugged me at once, while I no longer bothered to try and stop myself from crying. It was a surreal, but immensely happy feeling to be with these crazy, wonderful people, and a dress was an insignificant price to pay for that feeling.

"You girls go on, we'll finish up here," Mamma Graham said, shooing me and Sarah out of the kitchen. We ended up on the front porch, wrapped in our coats and sitting side by side on the old bench swing that hung there.

"Sorry about my family, I probably should have warned you they can be a little intense."

"A little?" I said, then laughed. "It's alright, I just didn't expect it is all." I paused, listening to the wind and watching it blow the dry brown leaves across the lawn.

"It's nice," I finally said, after what felt like five minutes of silence.

"I bet you would prefer to be with your own family, though."

"Are you kidding?" I asked her, giving her a look of disbelief. "Being tormented by my stepbrothers and cousins, listening to my stepfather argue with HIS brothers and their Aunt Mary, getting the standard speech from his grandparents on how I needed to cut my hair and start playing football. Having to WATCH football, ugh," I gave a thumbs down for emphasis. "This is infinitely better than any Thanksgiving I've had since my mom and dad were still together."

"Wow," she said, her eyes wide. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't be. Even if I was with my dad, it'd just be us, or a few of his friends from the club. It wouldn't be anywhere near this wonderful." I grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Thanks for inviting me."

"You're welcome," she said, smiling.

"Now, let's get back inside." I stood up, dragging her with me. "I'm hungry, and I don't want Tommy to eat everything before we get in."

"He would," she said, giggling as she followed me into the warm, inviting, and cheerful home of Mamma Graham.

-32-

I gave Mamma Graham another hug before loading into the back of Miss Sakaki's car.

"You come back and visit any time you want, honey."

"Thank you, ma'am. I will."

Sarah and I waved to her and the rest of them as we pulled away, including Tommy, who had stayed behind with Mr. Graham's SUV so he could play more football with his cousins.

I turned to the front, and caught the dirty look Miss Sakaki gave her husband as he cradled his bruised but not broken hand and grinned at her, a few pieces of grass still stuck in his teeth.

"I thought you promised not to play so rough? You could have gotten seriously hurt!"

"Yes dear."

"Most of those boys are half your age, and Tommy's not the only one in the army! What were you thinking!"

"Sorry dear."

He continued to grin, and it was not too much longer before Miss Sakaki's mask of anger cracked and she began to giggle, just like Sarah had a tendency to do. "Did you at least have fun?"

"Yes dear," Mr. Graham said in the same tone of voice he had been using when she had been berating him.

I looked over at Sarah, and we were both smiling at their antics.

"So, when we left the house, you were a boy," he said matter of factly, looking at me in the mirror. He was trying to be stern, but the leaf hanging off one ear and the grass in his hair made it hard to take him seriously.

"Um, yeah?" I looked down and nervously played with the hem of the dress Mamma Graham had told me to keep.

"They didn't make you change, did they?"

"Alan!"

"I just want to make sure," he said, interrupting her.

"Uh, no sir, not really."

"Not really?"

"Mamma," Sarah said, as though it was enough of an answer, and when I looked up Mr. Graham was nodding.

"The puppy dog eyes?"

"Yup."

"Uh huh," he said, biting his lip. "Do you want to stop somewhere so you can change?"

"No that's alright, I'm -- crap!" I said, realizing I had never grabbed my clothes.

"Don't worry, they're in a grocery bag in the back."

"Oh, thank god. Thank you so much, Ms. Sakaki."

She gave me a smile, then returned to her driving.

"You can change when we get home... if you want to," Sarah said with a shrug.

I sighed. This was going to be a difficult part no matter how they took it.

"Actually," I started, "I was thinking I'd just go ahead and be Becky for the rest of the weekend, if that's alright."

Mr. Graham's eyes popped up to look at me sharply. "Are you sure? Why?"

I shrugged. "It just seems... easier, is all," I said quietly, not looking at him.

He grunted. "We already told you to make yourself comfortable. If that's as a boy, then, well." He stopped.

"That's just it," I said, shaking my head. "It doesn't really matter all that much, it's just clothes. I mean, it doesn't matter to me, I mean I thought it did, but it's more, grh!" I hit my leg a couple of times in frustration, trying to work out how to say what I needed to say. Then it came to me. "The clothes don't matter so much to me, as how people act around me. When I'm dressed as a guy, I just want to be treated like a normal guy. If I'm gonna be treated like a girl, I might as well be a girl, or dressed as one anyway."

"But we weren't--"

"We were," Miss Sakaki cut him off. "We just didn't think about it." She turned to me. "Beck, I'm sorry, we can watch how we act around you more."

I shook my head again. "It's okay. Really." I was getting so tired of saying that. I knew what I had to say next would hurt them, but, it had to be said. "You weren't as comfortable around me as a guy as you are with me as a girl."

Everyone in the car was silent at that, even Sarah, who was staring at her shoes with a frown on her face.

"It's up to you," her dad said at last, after almost half an hour of silence.

I looked over at Sarah again. "I'll need to borrow some clothes, if that's okay?"

She finally looked up at me. She did not look happy, exactly, but she did look more comfortable. "Okay, we can find some when we get home."

"Good. So, where are we stopping to eat?"

That caused all of their eyes to boggle, and when I began to laugh the tension that had again built between us quickly drained as the conversation picked up again.

-33-

I flopped down on the inflatable mattress, glad to finally be able to rest after a long and stressful day.

"Was it fun?"

I looked over at Sarah, who had begged her mom until she had agreed to let her sleep on the couch in the room with me. "Thanksgiving? Yeah," I said, nodding sleepily.

"Not just that." She growled softly in frustration. "Being a girl."

"It was okay. I mean, I've gotten used to it."

"But you don't enjoy it?"

"Well, I won't say that," I said. "It can be fun sometimes, but it's mostly a hassle, and I get annoyed when people see me as a girl when I'm dressed as a guy."

"Why?" She asked, in a confused tone.

"Because I'm not a girl."

Sarah gave me a tired grin. "But sometimes you are." Then her eyes closed, and she fell asleep.

I wanted to drift off myself, but like so often lately, instead I found myself trapped in my thoughts.

I really had enjoyed the day immensely, and I knew that if Sarah ever asked me to stay over at her home again, I would probably accept. Her family was wonderful, and seeing how much they all cared for one another made me hope that some day, when I was older, I could have that kind of family too.

But that brought me back around to the whole issue of me being seen as a guy or a girl, not to mention my sexuality. Or did it? I was so confused.

Did it matter whether I was a boy or a girl? No, that was the wrong question. The question was, did it matter whether people saw me as a boy or a girl?

I thought over the last few months I had spent in the Princess program, and I could easily tell that it mattered to me a great deal. I was surprised to note, however, that I was only really irked when people determined me to be something other than how I was presenting. Being seen as a girl when dressed as a girl failed to bother me like it once had, but being seen as a girl when dressed as a boy still grated on my nerves. I imagined that being seen as a boy when dressed as a girl would bother me as well.

So, what did that say about me? Was I a boy who could play a girl well, or was I somewhere between boy and girl? I thought about what it might be like to actually be a girl in body, and I recoiled at the idea. Changing myself so drastically... for what? For the most part, I was happy with myself. Why would I change that just because nobody else saw me for who I was?

Who was I, exactly, anyhow? That was really the question, I told myself as I rolled over and wrapped up in the covers against the chill that had crept into the room. Was I Becky, or was I Beck?

What was the difference between Becky and Beck besides clothes?

If there was no difference, then why did everyone around me see one?

I tossed and turned, but eventually I must have fallen asleep, only to find myself trapped in my dreams, a princess trying to hide herself from an evil magician by dressing as a boy, but no matter where I ran, everyone saw through my disguise. No matter what I did, everyone would shout "there she is, there's the princess!" everywhere I went. Finally, after many days of torment and fear, I fled to the tower of a good wizard, who gave me a magic potion that he said would let me be whoever I wanted to be, and make the evil wizard leave me alone forever more.

I threw my head back and downed the potion in one gulp, then turned to watch my transformation in a nearby mirror. But before my changes were complete, the world around me began to shake, and with a start I sat up to find Sarah crouched over me with a worried expression on her face.

"Becky, are you okay? You were jerking around and mumbling something."

I sighed, and laid back down. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said, patting her shoulder gently. "Just trying to figure something out."

"Well, if I can help, let me know," she said, giving me a quick hug before climbing back onto the couch and wrapping up in her own blankets.

"I will," I said, then returned to sleep, this time without dreams.

(End of Part 11)

NOTES:

As I write this story, it's becoming more and more obvious to me that I need to get a thesaurus and work on my writing vocabulary. I seem to keep using similar phrases and actions over and over, mostly because I don't feel that I can properly express what's going on in the scene without them, but I know that there are probably better options out there sometimes.

Sorry for the end of this one turning kind of serious. I plan on the next one being a lot of fun, and it's also going to be my first ever attempt to write some kind of shopping experience, so be prepared for it being either a typical TG shopping cliche' or completely horrid, probably both :P Still, stories with that kind of thing tend to do okay, so who knows? We'll just have to see.

Am I making Beck too emo? I am, aren't I? Sigh. And, of course, IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME.

Melanie E.

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 12: The Princesses shop (Thanksgiving Interlude 3)

-34-

I was hardly surprised to find that Sarah was the first of us to be ready for the shopping trip, but I was quite surprised to find that I was actually looking forward to it a great deal more than I had expected. Even the hour long car ride to reach the nearest mall had done little to dampen my spirits, with Sarah's giddy bouncing in her seat and constant chattering leaving me laughing any time I started to feel the slightest bit nervous.

That was until I saw the parking lot.

"Good god!"

Sarah's mom chuckled wearily as she trolled up and down the lanes, looking for an empty space in the sea of cars. "Trust me, it would have been worse if we'd come out yesterday. It's called Black Friday for a reason."

"Why?" I asked.

"'Cause even if a store's doing badly, after Black Friday, all their numbers will be 'in the black,'" Sarah said with one of her trademark giggles.

"Oh."

I watched the hordes of people entering and leaving the mall, and tried to imagine what it must have been like the day before, with all the so-called after Thanksgiving deals. I shuddered.

"It's not THAT bad," Sarah's mom said when she saw my reaction. "Though today we're less likely to find anything good than if we'd -- DAMMIT! Asshole!" She called out her window at the man who had just swerved into the lone empty parking space in the entire lot.

Fifteen minutes later, we finally managed to find a vacated space near the outside of the lot and far from the stores. The moment we parked, Sarah shot from her seat as though she were on a spring.

"Yay! SHOOOPPPIIINNNGGG!" She called as she raced ahead of us toward the mall, barely avoiding several other visitors and a rogue shopping cart.

Miss Sakaki nudged me with her elbow and grinned, crossing her arms. "Aren't you gonna follow her?"

I shrugged. "I'm not much of a shopper."

Her grin slipped, and a low sigh escaped. "Tell me about it. I'd much rather just buy things in the off season when they're cheap, or shop online even. But Sarah..." She watched as her daughter jumped up and down, causing the flaps and strings on her baggy toboggan cap to jump as well as she waved us toward the store.

I had a feeling I knew what she was thinking. Sometimes it was hard to tell how much of Sarah's personality was really her, and how much of it she put on because she thought that as a girl, it was how she should act. Just the day before I had caught sight of a stack of comic books in her room, but when I mentioned them she had hidden them away, saying they were "left over," even though I had noticed a few recent editions in the stack.

Regardless of what her motives might have been, the chill in the air was enough of a motivation for me to hurry toward the doors myself, and soon I was in the happy embrace of the mall's central heating, leaving me with a completely new dilemma.

"Come on, you know if you leave it on you'll be burning up pretty soon."

I could feel myself blushing as I undid the zip on the coat Sarah had lent me, and did my best not to look down -- seeing myself with a prominent chest once had been traumatic enough.

Not that refusing to look down helped any, as I could still feel the false breasts bouncing with each step. Sarah had said that they would help me blend in better, which I doubted, but her mother's argument had been the one that had convinced me to give them a shot.

"You were saying the other day that you wished there were more separation between you as a boy and as a girl, right?"

"Yeah," I had said, nodding while I was trying to get dressed that morning.

"Well, breasts would go a long way toward that."

"But I don't wanna wear fake boobs all day."

"I understand, but it would help to add another thing that makes your girl self different from you as a boy."

I could see where she was coming from, but as of yet I was still unconvinced. By the time I thought to argue, though, Sarah had already glued them on, and after a nasty trick where she pretended not to have any remover, we had gotten on our way. I could not let them be seen, since Sarah had a very different skin tone than I, but the effect they had on those around me already scared me.

I had gotten looks from people before, but now, there were many more of them, especially from the boys and men we passed. It truly is surprising how much difference a few ounces of silicone can make.

"Here's our first stop," Sarah said, grabbing my hand and dragging me headlong into a store before I could catch its name, calling out "this way," as she led me toward the girl's section.

I did my best to play along, matching Sarah's enthusiasm with if not an equal amount then at least enough to to keep her happy while Ms. Sakaki browsed the women's styles a little further down from us.

"And this... and this... oh, you'd look good in this too!"

"Huh?"

"Come on, the changing room's over here!"

"Wait!" I said, realizing I had missed something somewhere along the line. "Sarah, I can't go in there."

"Why not?"

"Because it's..." I quietened myself down to a harsh whisper. "It's a girl's changing room!"

"So?"

I tried to speak, but my mouth would not form the words. Instead, I numbly took the clothes from Sarah and entered the room, telling myself that it was not like there would be anyone watching me. I still did not feel comfortable, though.

-35-

"Yeah, you HAVE to have that."

I looked down at myself and fought hard to suppress the sigh that wanted to escape. Unfortunately, I did not fight hard enough.

"What? You don't like it?"

I turned away from the mirror and faced a confused looking Sarah. "It's not that, Sarah, it's fine, but..."

"You look nice in skirts," she said, with a shrug.

"I don't need to spend my money on skirts and dresses, Sarah," I said, giving her a meaningful look.

"Well, they've got some cute sweaters and things over-"

"No, Sarah," I almost snapped, then calmed myself. "I don't need any more girl's clothes."

"I think it's time for us to take a break," Sarah's mom said from the side, shushing Sarah before she could speak. I quickly returned to the changing room of our fourth store of the day and put back on my tee and jeans before exiting and handing Ms. Sakaki the sweater dress I had been trying on.

We said little to one another on our way to the food court, a small break I was immensely glad for. It had been non-stop trying on of clothes since we had arrived, and I had already spent more than I had wanted on dresses, skirts, shoes, tops, and a whole host of other things. Admittedly, ideally I would have spent nothing on them, but that was not the point, nor was the fact that it was thanks to the Princess program I had the money to spend.

After settling on a table, we all fell silent again until we had collected our food. I chose a burger and fries while Sarah and her mom both opted for a deli a few stalls down, and when we finally met back up at the table, Sarah looked very upset.

"What's wrong?" I asked, setting down my tray next to hers and scooting into the booth beside her.

She looked over at me. "Are you not having fun today?"

I sighed. "Of course I am, Sarah. Why?"

"Because, you looked like you were getting mad, and I'm just trying to help and I thought we were having fun with the clothes and things, and..." She stopped for a moment, breathing in and out before facing me again with red eyes. "Did I make you mad or something?"

I looked over at Ms. Sakaki for help, but she simply shook her head and gave me a look that said quite clearly; I had to do this myself.

"You didn't make me mad," I told Sarah, wrapping my arm around her shoulder in a light squeeze. "I just don't get into clothes as much as you do. And, Sarah?"

"Yeah?"

I hesitated, but had to say it. "As much as you might not agree with me, I'm a guy, not a girl."

"I know that!"

"Sarah." Ms. Sakaki said, in a sharp tone.

Sarah looked between the two of us with wide eyes.

"I do!"

I let her go and leaned back. "Sarah... what's my name?"

"Becky."

"Daniel."

"What?"

"Daniel. My name's Daniel. Beck is a nickname my dad gave me when I was little, 'cause he used to have this album he would listen to all the time and I would always sing along with it. He thought it was cute, so he started calling me Beck after the guy on the CD, and I liked it, so that's usually what I ask my friends to call me. But my name is Daniel."

This was the last thing I wanted to do, especially in the middle of a crowded mall. I could see Sarah growing more upset and confused. I gave Ms. Sakaki another pleading glance, and this time, she seemed to take the hint and stepped in.

"Honey, I think what Becky -- Beck," she smiled at me, "is trying to say, is that she... he, doesn't want to be a girl all the time like you."

I nodded. "Speaking of which, I NEED to get some boy's clothes today too. After that, we can do some more girl type shopping, alright? Just... can we tone it down a bit?"

"Umm, yeah?" She said, uncertain, so I gave her a hug.

"Thanks."

She squeezed me back, and held on for a moment before letting go.

"Now, if we're all through with that," her mom said, with a giggle that sounded exactly like Sarah's, " let's eat so we can get started again, and then GO HOME."

"Amen to that," I said, starting in on my fries.

"Aww," Sarah whined, but I was glad to see she no longer looked upset at us.

-36-

"I think I'll just hang back here while ya'll look, if that's alright."

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said, crossing her arms and staring at her feet. "I'll wait here."

I looked up at the sign. It said "boys and men." I shrugged. "Alright, I'll be right back."

"'Kay."

I turned to Ms. Sakaki, and without a word she nodded, crossing over to stand next to Sarah and hug her while I headed into the men's section in search of a few essentials.

Underwear. What size was I? I hazarded a guess a size larger than the worn-out ones I had back at school, grabbing two packs, and on impulse grabbed a couple of pairs of boxers as well. I needed jeans, too, and a few tee shirts. All in all, it took me less than ten minutes to find everything I needed and pay for it, and I was out the door, back with Sarah and her mom.

We tried a couple of stores on the other end of the mall, but it was obvious that Sarah was not really in the mood any more, so we soon wrapped up what purchases we had left to make and headed out for the car.

On the way home, Miss Sakaki and I talked a bit about school, and my dad, and a few other things, but Sarah stayed mostly silent, almost a complete reversal from her bright, sunny mood on the way out. As soon as we pulled in at her home, she climbed out and grabbed her bags, heading in without a word.

I went to follow her, but Miss Sakaki's hand on my shoulder stopped me.

When I looked at her, she shook her head. "Let her be alone for a little while."

I nodded, but inside, I felt like I had broken something. "I didn't mean to hurt her feelings."

She smiled. "I know. And I think she knows that too. But right now she wants to think, and she always does that best alone."

We grabbed our purchases and took them in, but I never unpacked mine. Instead, I collapsed onto my air mattress and had a good sulk of my own.

I had blown it. My best friend, and I had driven her off. Just the other day I had even told myself that being a girl was a small price to pay for her friendship, and then what do I do but to throw it all away over some crap about being a guy.

I wanted to kick myself, but more than that I wanted things to be simpler. Being a girl sometimes was not so bad, but I could never relax when dressed as a girl, not because of the clothes but because it always seemed to be associated with being busy, either with school, Princess duties, or like the last two days, with other people. I adjusted my bra strap, pulling on the false breasts and reminding me they were there. Had I really forgotten about them for the past... "Five hours?" I asked myself in amazement as I looked at my watch. Sure enough.

I must have lain there at least an hour, just stewing, before a gentle cough from the door distracted me.

"Can I come in?"

I looked up, and it was Tommy, Sarah's older brother.

"Yeah, sorry," I said, sitting up and wiping my eyes, making sure there had not been any tears.

He flopped down on the couch at the other end of the room, propping his feet up on the coffee table, then just sat there, saying nothing for a few moments, before finally speaking again.

"Sarah's really sensitive, you know."

I looked down. "Yeah. I know."

"Do you know why?"

"Because she's the only girl-girl at our school?"

He shook his head, then paused, steepling his fingers. "If I tell you this," he continued, "promise me you won't tell her I told you."

I nodded, but he said nothing. "I promise," I finally said, holding out my hand.

"Good," he said, and kissed the back of my hand again, just like that first day, but this time, there was something different in it, and it did not make me feel uncomfortable or blush. It was like sealing an oath.

"We hardly ever see Mom's side of the family. They don't talk about it when they think we can hear, but from what I understand they never approved of our dad."

"Why not?"

He let out a harsh laugh, devoid of humor. "Probably because he isn't a doctor or a lawyer or something like that. We were never supposed to hear, but when I was little I heard them telling Mom how disappointed they were that she hadn't married better. They were more concerned for social standing than her happiness. But Mom loved them, and they still loved her, so they worked through their differences for the most part."

"That was until Sarah came out." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and staring into my eyes. "Dad takes the blame, but he wouldn't have pushed Sarah to try and be more boyish if grandpa and grandma Ichihara hadn't told him to. He wanted to be accepted by them just as much as we did."

"After being accepted into the Princess program, the first thing Sarah did the next time she came home was to throw out all her boy's clothes. Mom and Dad didn't like it, but it didn't really take her as much explaining as she thinks before she won them over to her side. Thanksgiving, well, it wasn't that much different from this year's. Dad's family is all pretty tightly knit, and now that they've accepted you you'll have to murder one of them before they'll disown you." He smiled when he said that, but his sombre mood quickly returned.

"At Christmas, though, we used to always go to Mom's family."

I felt a chill roll down my spine as I watched his mood visibly darken.

"They weren't cruel to her, but they were very cold. Don't get me wrong, they've never been like Dad's family, but before, we would always get a hug when we arrived, and one when we left. That year, they didn't hug anyone but Mom. We were no longer family; we were visitors.

Then we got around to presents. For most of us it was the normal selection of gifts, a cheap tie for Dad, some new button down shirts for me, and a nice dress for Mom. Then it came to Sarah, and they had a huge box for her. She was so excited, and looked so happy when she started to unwrap it." He stopped.

"What was it?" I asked.

"A complete new wardrobe."

I looked at him, confused by the anger in his voice.

"Pants, shirts, shoes, all in her old boy's sizes. 'It's time to end this silliness,' Grandma Ichihara said, and then she tried to drag Sarah into the bathroom and make her change, telling her she would never be a real girl."

I watched his fists clench and unclench as he sat there, the tension in him evident. I felt like I wanted to throw up.

"Mom grabbed Sarah and started yelling at Grandma, then Grandpa and Grandma both started yelling at Mom in Japanese, and we all left. Sarah wouldn't even come out of her room for almost a week after, and when she finally did, it was like she had changed. She still went to the school, but she won't admit to liking anything if it isn't considered feminine, and she tries as hard as she can to be as girlish as she can because she wants to prove Grandma and Grandpa wrong."

My vision began to blur, causing me to reach up and wipe my eyes, which is when I realized I was crying. "That's horrible," I said, dropping my hands in my lap.

"But that's Sarah. And now you know." Tommy stood up, then forced a smile onto his face. "Sarah talks about you all the time, you know. You're her best friend."

"I know."

He said nothing else, but nodded and left the room. As he left, I saw him look over and grow wide eyed, before nodding and heading upstairs.

As soon as he was gone, Sarah entered, her eyes red from crying.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry," I said, feeling my voice growing hoarse from trying not to cry.

She sat down next to me, and without saying anything we hugged one another, letting each other's tears fall freely, mine for her, and hers for... I cannot be sure, but I think herself, and for both of us too.

That night, we spent hours talking, her parents and Tommy never bothering us once. We talked about everything we could think of. Things that made us happy; things that made us sad; and things that we had no clue what to think about. And at the end of it all, we understood each other.

"Best friends forever?" She asked me, holding out her pinky with a small smile on her face as we lay facing each other on the floor.

"Best friends forever," I said, and took her pinky in mine, grinning back at her.

We never let go, even when we both fell asleep.

(End of Part 12)

END NOTES:

WOW. Talk about your characters rewriting a story for you!

I had been expecting this part to be lighthearted, and fun, and everything that in the end, it isn't. I had known that Beck would go shopping for boy's clothes, and what Sarah's reaction would be when that happened, but the rest of the events even took ME by surprise while I was writing it. I had known some of what made Sarah tick roughly, but this... again, most of this is as much a surprise to me as it was to you.

This also marks a landmark as being the part that officially pushes the PFH text document up past page 100, so yay for that.

Again, WOW.

I'm sorry I didn't give you the shopping trip I had been expecting, but who knows? Maybe at a later date I can pull it off. Hopefully, you like the exposition in this section enough to make up for it.

Melanie E.

PS: The usual. IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME!

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.

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 14: A Princess And Her Prince

-40-

"Really?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry."

"Oh. Well, okay then. Umm... sorry for bothering you." The boy turned away from me and hurried away down the hall, leaving me standing there very much embarrassed myself.

Sarah's gaze jumped between me and his retreating back while she asked in a puzzled tone, "does that happen often?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Wow."

"Come on, we'll be late for class if we don't hurry," I said, wishing to think about something, anything, other than what had just happened.

"He was kinda cute, though."

"Sarah, can we please just, I dunno, NOT talk about it."

"Okay," she said. "For now," she added with a wicked smile.

I groaned, but by the time I came up with a response she had already split off for her own class.

I focused my entire mind on Professor Cooper's lecture about conic sections, and did my best not to let my thoughts wander to what had happened. It was the same procedure I followed every time that it happened, and it was facing the same downfall as well -- I just could not keep from thinking about it.

Why me? He could have asked anyone else in the Princess program -- all of us were dressed today, as cheerleaders again no less thanks to another pep rally -- but he had chosen me. Why?

Did I just LOOK like I liked boys, or what?

"Excuse me, Miss Henderson, but if you could please pay attention," Professor Cooper asked me with a smile on his face, making me blush and stutter out an apology when I realized I had been staring out the window instead of following his work.

It was not long though before my mind began to wander again.

What had made it worse, I thought, was that it was the third time in a week that someone had asked me out, the fifth overall since coming back from Thanksgiving vacation. It seemed the longer the Princess Program ran, the more often it happened. By the time I reached my senior year, would this happen daily?

I prayed desperately that that would not be the case.

"What's eating you?" Andrew asked me when he saw me sit down.

"Nothing."

"Come on, spill. We've got time."

I looked around. He was right, of course. Our etiquette lessons had ended the week before, leaving all of us with a study hall for the next two weeks, to be replaced with some kind of "Life Planning" course next semester. I caught sight of Sarah and Leslie already making their way over to our table, and resigned myself to having to explain things.

"Well?" Sarah asked the moment she sat down, and I could tell by the sly grin on Leslie's face that she already knew what had happened.

"What do you want me to say?"

"What happened?" Andrew asked.

Before I could answer Sarah jumped in. "Becky got asked out on a date today."

"Again?"

Sarah went silent as Andrew turned toward me, fighting back a laugh.

"It's not funny, Andrew," I said, hoping that I was not pouting as much as it felt like I was.

"But that's gotta be the third time this-"

"Week. Yes. I know."

At last, my unhappiness penetrated his sense of humor, and he became far more serious.

"This is really bothering you, isn't it?"

I started to give an adamant "yes," but hesitated. "I... kind of."

Sarah gave me a curious look. "Why? Just because they ask doesn't mean anything."

Andrew turned to Sarah. "I think I might know part of the reason."

"And?" Sarah egged him on, when he paused.

He looked at me, asking for permission, and I nodded.

"This is the first time this month it's happened when she was dressed as a girl."

"So?" Sarah asked, then Got It. "Oh. So the others were asking you as a guy."

I shook my head. "They were asking out Becky, not Beck or Daniel."

"But you were dressed as a guy?" Leslie asked, her first words in the conversation.

"Yeah."

"Ah."

"But what's the problem?"

I shook my head, but when I looked at Sarah, she honestly looked as though she did not understand the issue. Even after all of our conversations, she still had to work at it not to think of me as a girl.

I tried to form into words all my frustrations, everything that was bothering me, but I could not do it. Instead, I said, "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

-41-

I continued to be distracted all through dinner. No matter what anyone said or did, I constantly found myself slipping back into my own head, trying to work things out and still unable to clarify what my problem was. Finally, I had had enough, and took my tray to put away. When I turned around, however, there stood Andrew, waiting for me.

"Come on," he said, gesturing toward the door. "We need to talk."

"O...kay?" I said, unsure, but I followed him out. Instead of turning toward the dorms, he headed down one of the darkened halls, toward the classrooms. When we at last stopped, I realized with a shock that we were in the same alcove we had used to talk after the Alumni banquet, but quickly shoved that night out of my mind.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" I asked him.

With a sigh, Andrew placed his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. From that angle he could have seen up my skirt if I were not careful, so as best I could I slid myself to the floor across from him.

"Do you like guys or girls?"

Just as carefully as I had sat down, I stood back up. "Is that what this is all about?" I asked him.

He shook his head, but made no move to rise. "No, I just wanted to know."

I sat back down, but did not look at him. "I don't know, alright?"

He nodded. "But you don't like being asked out?"

"It's not that. It's flattering, it's just..."

"Just what?"

The thoughts I had been having all day finally coalesced, and I had my answer. "I just want to know it's ME they want to date."

"Huh?" Andrew asked, seeming to be genuinely thrown by my answer. Now that I had finally figured it out myself, though, I knew I could explain it, and grinned triumphantly.

"Everyone who has asked me out hasn't asked me as Daniel, or even as Beck. They've asked me as Becky. How many of them do you think would want to go out with me if they saw me as a boy? And before you say anything, yes, some of them have asked me out when I was dressed in my boy's clothes, but they always called me 'Becky.' We both know most people don't pay any attention to how I'm trying to present." I tried to hide the bitterness in my voice in that last sentence, but knew I had failed miserably.

"So you want a guy to ask you out as a guy?"

I huffed. "That's not it either. It's just... whoever asks me out, I don't want them to care about if I'm a guy or a girl, I want them to ask ME. Does that make sense?"

"...No."

I sighed. "Don't worry about it."

We sat there in the dark, neither of us saying anything and neither of us moving, each alone in our thoughts. Now that I had figured out what my problem was, it made dealing with my feelings about saying no easier, though it also brought along the question of whether I would have accepted if they had asked me out as a guy.

"You know, Beck..." Andrew said, shifting nervously.

"Yeah?"

"If you wanted people to stop asking you out, uh... jeez."

"What?"

"We could, well, I could, I mean, if you wanted to."

"WHAT?" I asked again, when he failed to continue.

"Well, I mean. Heck, we could always say we're dating." Even in the darkness, I could see the blush covering his face.

I fought the urge to laugh. Would that not be just too perfect? Tell everyone who had been saying we were dating for so long that yes, they were right, we were going out? But looking at Andrew, without any hint of a joke showing on his face, I knew he was serious.

"You're serious?" I asked. You can never be too sure.

"Yeah?"

I thought about it for a moment, until I had an idea.

"Stand up."

"Huh?"

"Stand up!" I repeated, waving my arms upward. When he finally did so, I stepped right in front of him and looked up into his face. "I'm a girl right now, right?" I asked, with as stern an expression as I could muster.

He looked down at me, confused. "Okay?"

"So if we were to do that, that would make me?"

"My... girlfriend?" He asked, as though he thought it were the answer but could not be sure.

"But tomorrow I'll be a guy. And we'll still be doing the pretend-dating thing. Which will make me?"
I waved my hands to urge him on.

He pondered it for a moment. "My... boy... friend?"

Bingo! "And this would be okay with you?" I asked him. It was the moment of truth.

He shrugged, still wearing his confused look. "You're still you."

At last, I let out the laugh I had been holding in and stepped to his side, wrapping my arm around his.

"So what just happened?" He asked, looking around us as though there would be someone with a camera waiting in the shadows.

"You won," I said. "We're officially pretend dating."

"Oh! Uh, great?"

"Now walk me to my room," I said, stepping out into the hall.

He followed me slowly at first, but it was not too long before he finally worked out what had happened, and laughed himself, getting into the game. Both of us already knew; this was going to be a blast.

-42-

As we walked down the hall between classes, his arm around my shoulder and chatting to one another quietly, it was amazing to watch the faces of all my fellow students as we passed.

Word had spread quickly, and by the end of they day I doubted there was anyone who had not heard. We had made it official. Andrew and I were dating.

Of course, there were a few people who we had decided the night before on the walk back needed to know the truth. Sarah, Leslie, and Bobby were on that list. We had debated on whether or not to tell Jules, but in the end we had decided that he would either not believe we were pretending or not approve for some reason, and so had decided to let him be fooled along with the rest.

As for me, I felt a sense of relief, at the same time as I had an odd feeling of... excitement? Relief, because I no longer had to worry about turning others away if they asked. After all, I was already taken, so anyone who would ask knowing that would be someone who I would not want to consider anyhow. Excitement, possibly from the thrill of pulling wool over the eyes of the entire school population.

The most amazing part was how little we had to change to pull it off. We walked a little closer, we would touch one another on the arm or smile at one another a little more often, and that was enough. We never out and out held hands, or even hugged that first day, but what we did was enough to tell everyone around; I was off limits. I was Andrew's girl.

It was absolutely hilarious, until after Drama.

We were on our way back to the dorms, and as an added bit of proof for our bit Andrew had given me his spare blazer that morning to wear instead of my own. It absolutely dwarfed me, but I was finding that an advantage in the chilly mid-December air as we crossed the quad. His arm was around my shoulder as well, further sheltering me from the cold wind, and we were both huffing and shivering when at last we reached the dorm building.

"It's freezing out there!"

"Really," he said, blowing on his hands as he tried to wring some warmth into them. "You want something to warm up?"

I nodded, "Sure," and started walking toward the small kitchenette in the dorm hall.

We were not allowed to have a full kitchen in the building, but the school had made sure that each floor of the dorm hall was outfitted with an area with a microwave and a sink, as well as a few basic dishes like cups and silverware. When we came to the counter, Andrew reached into his pocket and pulled out two packets.

"Instant apple cider," he said with a grin when he saw my curiosity. We each grabbed a cup and filled them with hot water before setting them in the microwave. When they were steaming hot, we took them to one of the nearby couches and poured in the mixes before stirring them.

For a while, I just sat there with the cup in my hands, luxuriating in the warmth as it spread up. At last, though, I took a drink.

"Mmm, that's good," I said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I turned toward Andrew, to start talking about classwork, or our little charade, or anything really, only to find him looking at me intensely. My words died on my lips when I saw him looking at me.

'What is he doing,' I vaguely wondered as I took another drink of my cider. He looked away, and sat his own cup on the table before turning back to me.

He looked as though he wanted to say something, the frustration evident on his face as he seemed to fight with something.

Then he kissed me.

(End of Part 14)

END NOTES:

This is probably another one of those parts that, like the Halloween one, I will end up going back later and expanding. Parts of it seem to move too fast, but I'm out of time if I want to make my deadline for the week, SO *shrug*.

People have probably been expecting something like this to happen for a while. It was kind of inevitable, wasn't it? And, whaddaya know, with only one post left to go before the beginning of Christmas break. Won't THAT make for an exciting chapter?

I seemed to have a bit more trouble capturing some of the characters right this time around. If it's too jarring, let me know. Hmm.

Melanie E.

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

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.)

 

---

 
-43-

He kissed me.

He kissed me?

He kissed me!

I laid in bed, going over and over in my head the kiss. Had I enjoyed it? Had he enjoyed it? Why did he do it?

It had not been a long kiss. He had pressed his lips to mine, and held it for maybe a second before backing away. Regardless of how long it had lasted, though, the kiss had changed things irrevocably. Afterward, we had looked in each other's eyes for a moment. I could tell that he wanted me to say something, anything, but I had been too confused. Instead, I sat my cup, still half full of the cider he had given me, down on the table. He never said a word as I calmly stood up and walked to the stairs, nor as I went through the door. As soon as I had known I was out of sight, though, I had taken off running, until I was safely in my own room, locked away from the world.

That is where I had stayed, laying on my bed in the dark. Thinking.

I should apologize to him. Or should he apologize to me? Which one of us did the wrong thing?

I was so confused. It had already been over three hours since the kiss, but it still occupied my every thought.

Was it because I liked it?

I was not sure. I certainly had not hated it, but neither had I wanted it nor expected it. Then again, I was almost certain that if I had been expecting it I would have been more terrified by the implications of letting it happen than by the kiss itself.

What were the implications?

Things between me and Andrew would never be the same again. Whatever my decision about the kiss, we could no longer just be friends, at least, not in the way we had been. Or, I had thought we were. Would Andrew have kissed me if he had not thought there was something more between us?

Had I been leading him on?

I thought back on how I had always treated Andrew. Surely he never thought... but what could have told him differently? I was the one who always insisted on not pinning down their sexuality. I was the one who he spent all his time working with, and a good portion of that time had been as a girl. I could think of nothing I had done that might have said I was interested in him, but neither could I think of anything that I had done that might say otherwise. Thinking on it again, for a long time it had been our tendency to be physically close. Perhaps he had taken that as the indication that I "liked him" liked him?

Did I "like him" like him?

I growled in frustration as I rolled over and buried my face in my pillow, willing my brain to shut down but with no affect. The constant mulling over the issue had given me a headache beyond belief, but I knew that I would not be able to rest until I had figured this issue out.

A large part of the question was about my own sexuality. Did I like guys, or girls, or both? The easiest answer would be to claim I was bisexual until I had figured everything out, but that did nothing to help answer the question.

Of course, even if I did like guys, that would not mean I necessarily liked Andrew.

I really hated circular problems.

So, do I like Andrew or not? In the end, I decided that it was similar to the kiss; while I did not particularly dislike him or disapprove of the idea of dating him, neither was I sure I wanted to either, if he even liked ME after having walked out on him like that.

So what should I do?

Talking to Sarah was out of the question. She might be my best friend, but I doubted that she would understand my issues. She would probably tell me to just go with it and see what happens. Should I talk to Leslie then?

The question was taken out of my hands when I heard a quiet knock at the door to our shared bathroom.

"Come in," I said in a voice far more hoarse than I had expected it to be. I reached up and wiped my face, and to my surprise found my cheeks wet with tears. It was too late to do anything about them, though, as Leslie hesitantly pushed the door open and came into my room, a worried expression on his face.

"Is everything okay?" He asked as he crossed over to my desk and pulled out the chair, straddling the back as he watched me sit up on the bed.

"Yeah. Maybe? I dunno," I said, sniffling. "Andrew...."

"I heard."

"What?"

"You missed dinner, you know. He wasn't there either, so I asked Bobby what was going on, and he said that all he knew was that something had happened between you two and Andrew was upset about it. Lemme guess, he kissed you?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, feeling my cheeks grow red in embarrassment.

Pause.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"What did you think?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, that's the problem! I don't know what to do."

"Hmm," Leslie said, crossing his arms on the back of the chair and setting his chin on top. "Do you want me to get Sarah?"

I shook my head again. "No, I already know what she'd say. She'd just tell me to run with it and see what happens, but it's more complicated than that."

"Because you think you're a guy."

I started to nod, but caught myself first. "What do you mean by that?"

Leslie sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, all I mean is, hell, I shouldn't have to say it. You already know everyone pretty much thinks you're like Sarah."

I snorted. "Yeah. You'd think they would listen when I tell them I'm not." I gave him as sharp a look as I could. "You believe me, right?"

"Well... I know what you're thinking, and it's not like that! I guess, I don't think you're like Sarah so much, but you aren't like the rest of us either."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I asked angrily.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, I'm just sayin'. Most of us, we try to separate what we do as Princesses from what we do as guys. You... don't. That's all it is, really, but it's a lot more important than you seem to think it is."

"Why?" I asked, honestly confused. "What difference does it make?"

He took his time before answering. "Okay. You act the same whether you're dressed as a guy or a girl. That isn't a bad thing, but the way you act FITS as either one mostly, and that's what causes people problems, Andrew included."

"I don't see how that's connected to anything, or why that makes people think I'm a girl."

"Because frankly, you're too pretty to be a boy."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks." Despite my sarcastic tone, though, I carefully avoided looking at the mirror.

I knew what he said was true, and I hated my stepbrother for doing it to me. No, that was wrong, and I had to admit that the accident had nothing to do with most of the rest of my appearance. My face might have been why I was chosen for the Princess Program so early, but it alone was not the reason people saw me the way I did.

That was a thought path I definitely did not want to take for the moment, though, so I tried to change the subject. "What does all that matter to Andrew k-k-kissing me?"

"With how the two of you were hanging all over each other today? I would have been more surprised if he hadn't."

"But we told you--"

"Yeah, you told us it was all just to get the other boys off your back, but do you really think Andrew would have agreed if he didn't actually like you?"

I was silent for a moment. "I dunno... maybe?"

Leslie gave me a disbelieving look, then shook his head in disgust and stood up. "Look, I can see why you got freaked out, but you can't mess with Andrew like you do and not expect things like this to happen. I know," he cut me off when I went to interject, "you don't think you're leading him on, or that there's anything between the two of you. But you need to open your eyes, and ask yourself honestly if you would act the same way you do with Andrew with any of the other boys in the school." He started to head out the bathroom door, but turned back to me before closing it behind him. "Just think about it," he said, then latched the door.

-44-

"What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" I asked him nervously, staring down at my feet rather than looking at his face.

"...Alright," Andrew said, then stepped aside, letting me into his room but leaving the door open.

"Can you shut the door so we have some privacy?"

"We're not supposed to when a Princess is in our room dressed like you are."

I looked down at skirt and fuzzy sweater. "Oh." I had thought that dressing like a girl might make him feel more at ease talking to me, but I had not thought about other ramifications of the decision. "Well," I stood up and walked to the door, closing it. "They'll just have to deal this time."

He sat down on his bed and stared at the floor. "Sorry about earlier."

I only hesitated a moment before making my decision, crossing the room and sitting next to him on the bed. "No, I'm sorry," I said, wringing my hands. "I shouldn't have run off like that, and I should have thought more about your feelings than I have. I... I know you, you like me."

"Duh," he said, still staring at the floor.

Now I felt even worse. "The thing is, I still don't know if I like guys or not. I wasn't trying to hurt you, but when you kissed me, it scared me." I silently congratulated myself on not stuttering on the word 'kiss' before going back to my speech. "If you don't want to talk to me right now I understand, but I just wanted to let you know I was sorry."

I stood up to leave, but before I could even take one step toward the door I felt Andrew's hand clasp my wrist gently.

"Becky -- Beck, wait. Please."

I sat back down, watching him cautiously. Finally, he turned to me and looked me in the face for the fist time since I had come to his room. Seeing the pain in his face, I almost wished he had kept looking at the floor.

"Beck, just tell me if you like me or not, okay? I just, I need to know."

I wanted to give him the answer I knew he wanted, but I could not. "I don't know."

Andrew chuckled for a moment and let go of my wrist, but continued to look into my eyes. "Seriously?"

I nodded.

"What's so hard to know?"

I sighed, and glanced down to my hands before answering him. "It's complicated."

"If it's about being gay or something--"

"It's not that!"

"Then what is it!"

"I... I just, dammit!" I punched myself in the leg, making myself wince. "Don't you think I wish I could answer you? I wish I could say yes, or no, or give a reason why I don't know, but I can't. I just can't."

He looked away again. "Then what do you want me to do?"

This was the part I had been dreading, for several reasons, but I knew I had to go through with it. "I don't know if I like you Andrew, not like *that* anyway. But, if you want to try, ah, dating, or something."

"I thought that was what we were doing? 'Pretend dating' so the other guys wouldn't bother you?"

"Yes, no, I mean... I mean, for real."

He gave me an incredulous look, but said nothing, so I carried on.

"If you want to try being my, my boyfriend, then I guess... that's okay?"

I had no idea if the path I was taking was the right one or not, but I knew that I had to give it a shot. If I did not, then I would always regret it, and who better to help me figure things out than Andrew?

-45-

I looked around my room and marveled at the difference only a few months had made. What had at first felt like nothing more than a dry dorm room now felt more like home than anywhere I had lived since before my mom and dad had divorced. Even in it's barren state now that I had packed most of my belongings for the just over two weeks I would be gone for Christmas break, I could feel how comfortable the room had grown to me.

With a heavier heart than I had expected I picked up the last of my bags and turned around to face Andrew.

"You ready yet?"

"Yeah," I said, lifting the bag onto my shoulder and leading the way out. Andrew came along behind me, bringing the rest of my baggage. Last time I had stayed at Sarah's I had been unprepared, but this time I knew better, and had brought more girl's clothes than boy's. What had on arrival been just enough clothes to fill my battered old military surplus duffel bag now filled an additional two bags that I had borrowed from Leslie, with more clothes left to spare in the closet.

I looked back at Andrew, lugging the two larger and heavier bags, and grinned. He had agreed to "taking it slow" when it came to our relationship, or whatever you would call it, and the most intimate contact we had had since that day was to hold hands on a few occasions. Even that small act of intimacy was more than I would have thought I could handle at the beginning of the year, but whatever I might eventually decide when it came to who and what I was, I already knew that I would never regret at the least giving Andrew a chance to prove himself.

We were both huffing when we finally reached the main building of the school, Andrew from exertion and me from the cold, and gladly dropped our bags just inside the front doors to await Miss Sakaki's arrival to pick me and Sarah up. Sarah should have already been down, but I had little doubt she was being held up sharing one last goodbye with Leslie before our departure.

We sat there in silence for at least five minutes, neither of us sure what to say. Finally, Andrew nervously reached across the gap between us and took my hand. I looked up into his eyes.

"Becky, I just wanted to say, thanks."

"What for?"

"For... I guess, a lot. At the start of the year I just thought you would be an interesting person to know, but then you joined the Princess program and that all changed. I don't know why, but when I'm around you, boy, girl, it doesn't matter."

"Andrew..."

"Please, let me finish." He looked eagerly into my eyes. "I really like you. Heh, I guess that's pretty obvious," he said, chuckling. "And I know that you still don't know if you like me, but I'm glad you gave me a chance."

I watched Andrew, unsure what to say, until the beep of a car horn from outside broke the moment. Andrew let go of my hand, and stood up.

"I'll see you after Christmas."

"Wait," I said, gripping his hand again.

He looked down at me, waiting for me to continue, so I stood up. Slowly, and much more sure of myself than I would have thought, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug. He hugged me back, and when we finally let go I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas," I said as I took a step back, seeing beyond his goofy grin a pair of matching ones on both Leslie and Sarah.

Sarah stepped forward and grabbed my hand. "Come on, Mom's waiting for us."

I grabbed my bag, and watched as Andrew picked up the other two with that same look still plastered on his face. He and Leslie followed us out to the car and helped us load our bags, but neither one said a thing as we gave each of them another hug before climbing in the car, waving as we pulled away.

"Merry Christmas, girls!" Miss Sakaki said merrily, before giving me an apologetic look.

"It's alright," I said with a smile, more relaxed than I had felt in a while. "It will be."

My dad would be arriving at the airport the next day, but I could tell by the look on Sarah's face that I would be spending most of the night talking to her about Andrew. How did I feel about him? Were we serious? Was he a good kisser? I still knew none of the answers, but now I could safely say that I wanted to know them, and when Christmas break was over, I was sure that at least the first question would be possible.

I had come a long way since first arriving at Kingston Academy. In the last few months, I had been a cheerleader, a superhero, a waitress, and both someone's girlfriend and boyfriend. I had made many friends, and had experiences beyond my wildest imaginings.

What was waiting for me when I returned?

I was looking forward to finding out.

(End of Book 1)

END NOTES:

To reiterate my earlier blog entry, here it is, the last part of Book One of Princess For Hire. I'll start work on the next book immediately, but in combination with all my other commitments, please don't expect to see anything from it for at least six to eight months.

Also, I again apologize for there only being three chapters and not the full eight I had been aiming for. The story wrapped itself up nicely, and though I tried to extend it I couldn't really think of anything else to put that wouldn't have ended up just feeling like what it would have been -- filler.

I hope everyone has enjoyed the ride so far, and I'm looking forward to bringing you more of the adventures of Beck and co. in the future!

Until then, be excellent to each other.

Melanie E.

Princess For Hire
Book 2: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Beck returns to Kingston Academy after an eventful Christmas break, for all new adventures -- and maybe a little romance to boot!

Alright, before we start let me just say I hope I don't come to regret posting this so early. I was hoping to have the first nine chapters/three parts finished before starting to post the story, but as it is I've just finished the second part. I'm hoping that, like it worked with the first book, getting reader's comments will help to fuel my creative energies toward writing more quickly.

So, without further adieu, here we go!

Part 1: The Princess Returns

-1-

It was with a mixture of sadness and joy that I watched the gates of Kingston Academy roll into view. Joy, because I was finally returning to what I had come to think of as MY school, a place where I belonged. Sadness, because returning meant another four months before I would see my dad, someone I was just beginning to connect with again after our years apart.

I felt a hand reach down and take mine, squeezing it gently, and when I looked up Sarah gave me an understanding smile. "Come on, cheer up. I bet Leslie's waiting for us already. And Andrew, too."

I rolled my eyes, but felt my sullen mood lifting.

Christmas break had been an even more wonderful experience than I could have ever hoped for, even if it was far different than I had expected. The initial plan, where I would share the front room with my dad for the time he was there, was abandoned quickly when he arrived with his boyfriend Mitch in tow. He apologized to the Grahams extensively, but they just took it all in stride, and after a bit of finagling Sarah convinced them to move me into her room, the end result of which was that I'd had very little "Daniel" time over the past two weeks -- not that I was expecting to have much to begin with.

Thinking about everything that had happened over Christmas helped to drive away the rest of my bad mood. I had my dad again, and being around Sarah's family was oddly more comfortable than I had ever felt with any of my own.

"That's better. We're here!"

Sarah's father helped us unpack the car, leaving our luggage on the front steps, and true to her word Leslie and Andrew were there waiting to bring our bags up to the dorms. Seeing Andrew again sent nervous tingles down my spine. I had thought a lot about us while away on vacation, but I still had trouble coming to terms with the idea of actually dating another boy.

"Hey Sarah. Becky," he said, looking at the turtleneck and jeans I was wearing, both obviously girl's.

"Hey Andrew! Say hi, Becky."

I shot Sarah a withering glare, but she ignored me as she caught Leslie in a lip-lock, leaving me standing there across from Andrew even as I heard her parents' car pulling away.

"Uhm... hi," I finally managed to squeak out, before mentally slapping myself. Before I could get nervous about it again, I stepped forward and gave him a hug, which he returned warmly. When we let go of each other, he was smiling, and I felt the same begin to grow across my own face. "Hi," I said again, much more certain of myself.

"Are you ready to take your bags up?" Leslie asked us, reaching for the heavier of Sarah's bags.

"Are we ever! It's freezing out here!" Sarah complained, rubbing her arms through her thick coat.

Andrew grabbed the heaviest of my bags without even asking, and with that we were on our way through the building and to the dorms.

"So how were your Christmas breaks?" Sarah asked the boys as we trudged through the school's halls.

Leslie spoke up first, straining under the weight of Sarah's bags. "Fine. I got a new laptop. It has built in wireless, so I don't have to rely on that glitchy card any more."

"Good! I was missing your emails. What about you, Andrew?"

Andrew shrugged under the weight of my duffel bag. "Not bad I guess. Jules was impossible to live with as usual. Then again, you two know how he can be. I didn't get anything as fancy as a laptop though."

"Aww, so no sending love letters to Becky by email then?"

Andrew grinned. "I'll just have to write 'em by hand I guess."

"Oooh," Sarah said, as I tried to shrink down into my turtleneck and disappear.

"Alright, stop it you two," Leslie chimed in, the voice of reason. "You're embarrassing her. You don't like being picked on either, Sarah, so no excuses."

"But I'm not picking on her," she said, pouting. Leslie just glared at her.

"Stop or I won't let you do my hair again."

"But that's no fair!"

Luckily for me, the argument ended when we reached the outside doors. We would be in the dorms soon, but it was too cold outside to waste the time arguing.

We rushed as quickly as we could through the quad, and wasted no time once we reached the dorms, racing up the stairs to our rooms. I felt the tingle of excitement as we reached the "P" wing, the familiar smell of the hallway making me feel a sense of... something. I was not sure what I felt, but it was good.

Leslie and Sarah continued on down the hall to her room while Andrew and I stopped at mine. Putting my things up took a back seat, however, when as soon as our hands were free Andrew wrapped me in another hug. I resisted slightly at first, but his warmth changed my mind.

After a few seconds he pulled back a little, but did not let me go. "Becky, I've wanted to ask you this since before Christmas break. Can I... can I kiss you again?"

I cannot remember what I said. On the other hand, it must have been "yes," because that is what he did.

-2-

"So who else is back already?"

Leslie shrugged, sitting backward in my desk chair, as he often did when visiting my room. "Most of the other Princesses are back already, as well as a few of the Protectors, like Andrew and Bobby. For the most part, though, this is it until probably the day before classes start. I would have thought you and Sarah would have waited too, since she lives so close."

"Mr. Uchiha asked us to come a couple of days early. He said there was something he wanted to talk to us about before classes started and he'd be busy the day right before. We're supposed to meet with him about ten in the morning."

Leslie groaned. "Crap. First day back and already having to get up early?"

I nodded, not at all pleased myself. "Tell me about it. Then again, Sarah's entire family is early risers, so this will be like sleeping in for me."

Leslie's eyes grew wide as the implications of what that would mean if he stayed with Sarah sunk in. Leslie liked his sleep at least as much as I did.

"Don't worry, it's just me and her he wants to talk to. You're off the hook," I said, fighting not to laugh at the visible relief on his face. "So why aren't you in there with Sarah still? You two seemed pretty intense when we first got back."

He frowned. "I tried to explain to her why she needs to lay off you and Andrew, but she doesn't get it. We were getting kind of heated, so I backed off and left before we had a major fight."

I stopped my unpacking and went over to him, patting him on the shoulder. "It's okay, just because you're my 'big sister' doesn't mean you have to stand up to your own girlfriend for me."

"I just don't see why she doesn't understand! I mean, we all pick on you, yeah, and Jules is the worst. Then again, Jules is Jules, and Andrew's brother, so that's different. But Sarah's supposed to be your best friend and-"

"And she thinks of me as a girl." I didn't feel like having this conversation, but I knew we had to, and I had to let Leslie know what was going on. "She doesn't think of me as a guy at all, Leslie. Come on, most of the people in the school don't."

"But Sarah..."

"Sarah IS my best friend, and she tries to understand. But she still has problems seeing how my situation is different from hers."

"Why?"

I shrug. "Because she's normal?"

I thought Leslie was going to argue with me, but instead a light seemed to come on in his eyes as he got it.

"Exactly," I said, sitting back on the bed with a pleased look on my face.

"But it's still not nice of her to pick on you."

"It embarrasses me, yeah, but it's not that bad. She does it because she wants me to loosen up about it, and she's right, I need to."

Leslie still looked unconvinced. "Well, if you're sure..."

"I am," I said, nodding with more confidence than I felt.

He stood up. "In that case, I'm gonna go apologize to her."

I grinned. "Alright. If Ruby's here could you ask her to come visit with me?"

"Ruby? Oh! Right. Sure."

"Thanks."

He left, and I had just enough time to finish unpacking before I heard the unmistakable "oof!" of Ruby tripping over my door frame.

"Hi."

"Hey Ruby," I said, not being surprised upon turning around to find her a girl's school uniform. "Dressed a little early for classes, huh?"

She blushed. "I just like it is all."

"It's alright. So how was your Christmas break?"

She smiled, turning the chair Leslie had been perched on around and sitting carefully on the edge. "It was great! I got to see my sister again, and I told her all about the Princess program. She thought it sounded great, though..."

"What?"

She blushed again, and would not look me in the face. "She said she hoped grace lessons were part of it, 'cause I really need 'em."

Okay, it was kind of mean, but I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up within me. I tried to fight it, but there was no way the snickers would remain contained. Finally, I let it out.

"It's not that funny!" She complained with a huff, but soon she was laughing too, just as hard as I was. Seeing her laughing, and eventually fall out of the chair, caused me to laugh even more. It was a couple of minutes before we could look at each other again without giggling.

All in all, it was good to be back.

-3-

If anyone were to ask where the idea came from, I would blame it on the corrupting influences of Ruby and Sarah. After all, I had only meant it as a joke -- it was the two of them who had run with the idea, drawing every other Princess who had shown up for the session early in with promises of food and bad horror movies. Who could resist?

The end result was that, with the house attendant's permission, we had organized an impromptu slumber party in one of the two lounge rooms on the ground floor.

It was surprising how many of us had shown up already for preparation for classes. The group consisted of Sarah, Ruby, Brandy, Amanda, Kylie, Leslie, Jules, and of course, me, all hanging about the lounge room with sleeping bags or blankets and pillows in varying levels of girly sleeping attire. I had on a plain set of pajamas I had bought to wear at Sarah's place, while Amanda and Leslie were in boxers and tees, their only concession to femininity being Amanda's breast forms and Leslie's painted nails and up-done hair. Brandy had appeared in of all things a long flannel nightgown that she had obviously received from her mom, blushing brightly at being seen in it, while Sarah and Ruby, of course, wore the most feminine nightgowns they had. Jules, to everyone's surprise, showed up in an extra-long sleep shirt with a picture of a kitten on it, stating it was a gag gift from Andrew for Christmas. All in all, we made an interesting collection to find in a boys' dorm hall.

What had at first started out as the group of us talking nervously in small clusters, no one quite sure of how to approach the event, soon evolved into a group conversation, and eventually into the night of board games and bad movies I had expected it to. Of course, given the nature of such events, and our unique situation, it became apparent that we would be acting out as many of the stereotypical girly-girl slumber party activities as we could get away with.

The pillow fight was a bust, since we all found it far more exhausting and irritating than fun, and though Sarah and Ruby spearheaded a makeover session that rapidly deteriorated as well when it was discovered that they were the only two who had anything more than the bare minimum of different styles of makeup necessary for school events. When the game of truth or dare came along, though, was when the night grew interesting.

"Alright alright alright, who's first?"

"Sarah!"

"Sarah it is!" Jules said, grinning evilly. "Well, then, Sarah. Truth or dare?"

Sarah wiggled uncomfortably. "Uh, truth?"

"Good. How about this, then. Have you and Leslie gone all the way yet!"

"Jules!" Someone interjected, but she ignored them, staring holes through the top of Sarah's head.

"Noooo," Sarah said, her face flushing.

"So then you've only gone so far as --"

"JULES!" The force of the voice convinced her to stop, though she looked dejected that she wouldn't get to finish her line of questioning.

"Sarah's turn to ask someone," I said, nudging her lightly since we were side by side in the circle the group had formed for the game.

"Oh! Okay. Amanda! Truth or dare?"

"I'll take truth as well."

"Do you like being a girl?"

Amanda hesitated before answering. "Well, it's okay. It doesn't BOTHER me. I dunno... sometimes?"

Brandy nodded. "It can be fun, but it's a lot more work than I thought it would be." Everybody around the circle nodded their agreement with that, even Sarah.

"But isn't it nice to feel pretty sometimes?"

Amanda shrugged. "I guess. I do like the way a lot of the clothes feel, and it's nice not to have to act tough all the time. When you're tall and black people tend to expect you to be some kind of athlete or something, but I've never really liked playing sports too much. It might sound kinda sexist, but I like not being expected to be all physically powerful when I'm dressed as a girl."

Sarah thought for a moment, then decided she was done. "Alright, your turn, who are you gonna pick?"

"Uh, how about Kylie?"

Kylie shook her head no, but everybody's urging finally pushed her over the edge, and she mumbled a quiet, "alright. Truth, I guess."

I listened avidly, waiting for Amanda's question. Of all the girls, I probably knew Kylie the least.

"Do you ever dress as a girl when you're not doing Princess stuff?"

Kylie's eyes grew wide.

"Well?"

She looked away, then squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "Sometimes," she said, too quietly to be heard if the room had not been dead silent.

After a few seconds of tense silence in which nobody picked on her or laughed, she finally opened her eyes to find us all watching her, smiling.

"Go on," Sarah said, in the same tone you would use to coax a scared puppy out from under the bed.

"Uh, when my cousin came over for summer break last year, she found some of my Princess clothes, and we spent a few days hanging out as girls? And again, when she came down for Christmas?" Finally realizing that none of us would pick on her for her answers, she opened up. "And sometimes... sometimes, just because."

"Because why?"

She shrugged. "Because."

The entire room was silent, contemplating her answer.

"Alright, do me next," Leslie said when things started to grow uncomfortable. "I'll be different and take a dare."

"Okay." Kylie brightened up, the spotlight being off her now. "I dare you to... gosh, this is hard."

Everybody laughed at that, but seeing they were laughing with her and not at her, Kylie relaxed even more, becoming more like the girl I had seen many times at meals. "How about this. I dare you to wear your Princess uniform underwear under your boy's uniform for the next month."

Leslie lit up a bright red, but everyone approved of the dare, and after much ribbing she finally nodded her consent, to cheers around the room.

"But how will we know if she does it?"

"Easy," Sarah said with a gleam in her eye, "I'll check." This was followed by a wolf whistle from Jules, but everybody ignored her as they clapped in approval.

"Now your turn. Who are you going to challenge?"

"Well, I've gotta pick on my little sister, don't I?" Leslie's words left my blood running cold. "Come on, Becky, it's your turn. Truth or dare?"

What should I do? I wrapped my arms around my knees as I thought for a moment, considering my options. If I did truth, the question would likely be something about being a girl, or about Andrew. If I did a dare, well, it would probably be the same. All the faces around me were waiting intently for my answer.

"Truth."

"Alright. Why don't you dress as a girl every day like Sarah does?"

I was shocked. Of all the people in the room, Leslie was the one I least expected to ask a question that loaded. Then I saw her face. I could read in her eyes the apology for the question, but there was something else there as well. An urging to answer.

She had given me the opening I needed to explain to everyone my position.

I took a deep breath. "Never."

There were many sighs and mumbles around the room, before I heard someone ask, "why not?"

"Because I'm a guy?"

"But you make such a good girl!" I looked in Sarah's direction, but she shook her head, telling me it hadn't been her who had said it.

"And even dressed as a guy you look like a girl."

"And you don't act very masculine either."

I shook my head, growing annoyed. "So what! So I'm happy with who I am, and I don't feel I need to change that for anyone. Why does that make me a girl?"

"Why does it make you a guy?" The same voice from before asked. Why couldn't I place who was asking? But more importantly, how do I answer?

Finally, I simply shrugged. "Does it really matter?" The edge in my voice was enough to prevent anyone else from questioning me, but even as we all called the game quits and began to clean up for sleep, I still found that I was questioning myself.

(End of Part 1)

NOTES: Yes, yes, I know, the "girly sleepover" is about as cliche' as you can get, but that's the point, after all! On the other hand, I'd *like* to think that I gave it an interesting twist, so hopefully that makes up for some of it.

This is just the beginning! I can't promise a posting every week like with book 1, though I will strive for it, but I can put in a good word for getting at least a new post every two weeks or so. I'm aiming for fifteen parts on this one, same as the first, so that should last you a good while, no?

Melanie E.

Princess For Hire
Book 2: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Beck's return to Kingston Academy has brought more to his plate than he expected. Can he handle the next turn of events? Or will he make a decision he'll come to regret?

(Beginning of Part 2)

Part 2: The Princess's Adviser

-4-

Waking up and not knowing where you are is never a pleasant experience.

It is even less so when you wake up to find yourself being crushed under someone else.

"Urrmph! Gerroff!" I pushed up with all my might, and finally managed to roll what turned out to be Amanda off of me and back onto her own pallet, about a foot away from mine.

I looked around the dark room, the digital clock on the mantle of the fireplace proclaiming it to be eight o'clock. Didn't I have something I needed to do today? Oh, yeah.

"Psssst. Sarah. Hey," I said, poking her in the back a few times for emphasis.

"Hnnh? What?" She asked, rolling over and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"It's eight, we've got that meeting with Mr. Uchiha in two hours."

She nodded. "N'kay." With a mighty yawn she sat up and looked around the room. As the memories of the night before came back to her, she began to smile. "My first real slumber party. Probably my last, too. Oh, well."

"We can try and do this again some time."

She nodded. "I think I'd like that."

Now fully awake, we both carefully made our way through the tangle of bodies filling the floor and up to our own rooms to get ready for the day. I debated over whether to go as Becky or as Beck, not sure what capacity Mr. Uchiha was wanting to talk to us in. In the end, I settled on a pair of my regular boy's jeans with a turtleneck sweater in plain black, knowing that even though they were both from the boy's department nobody would be able to tell anyhow, a fact which irked me even as it played to my advantage for the moment.

Sarah was still not ready yet when I had finished dressing, so I made the walk to the school room where we would be meeting alone, using the time to think about things.

Christmas break had been full of fun and laughter, more so than any Christmas I could remember since before my mom and dad had split up. Seeing Sarah's family again had been great too, Mamma Graham welcoming me just as warmly as the first time, and giving my dad and his partner the same treatment. The fact that my dad was gay didn't seem to matter to her, or the rest of the family, in the least, and I had been able to tell that he'd had a hard time not breaking up at the warm welcome too.

The entire break, I had been Daniel, what, twice? On second thought, no, it had been once -- the day we had driven down to see my mom.

That meeting hadn't gone as well as the time at Sarah's. We had agreed she would drive half-way to meet us for dinner one night at a restaurant we all liked, so I had spent a good two hours making sure to remove all traces of Becky I could. It was a harder task than I had imagined, since that included using a different soap and shampoo than I had grown accustomed to so I wouldn't smell the same, and even carefully picking off the bits of nail polish around the base of my nails where the acetone wouldn't completely reach.

She had been waiting at the table when we arrived, standing up to give me a hug and my dad a cool nod of acknowledgement, but as the meal went on she began to look at me more and more strangely.

"Something's different about you," she finally said, after some few minutes of uncomfortable silence had passed. "There's something you're not telling me."

I had shrugged, but remained silent, not knowing what to say, or what specifically she might be thinking of from the myriad things I knew I wasn't telling her. Most of the rest of the meal passed in quiet contemplation.

When we all said our goodbyes, she hugged me again, but this time there was something more distant about it. She hadn't said a single word to my dad the entire meal, and after our uncomfortable pause little to me either. Watching her go, I had felt a pang of loss I hadn't expected, somehow knowing that things were different between us now, in a way I couldn't describe.

It was on our way home that Dad said the five little words that brought what had happened into focus. "You moved like a girl."

At first, I had no idea what he was talking about. Then it hit me. Spending so much time with Sarah, and as Becky, had I really started moving femininely? I must have. Now her reaction to me made more sense, even if it didn't hurt any less. All the monitoring of my appearance had been for nothing in the long run.

A burst of chill wind snapped me back to the present, the sparse trees of the quad doing little to hamper the rushing winter air.

I had been watching the way I acted since then, trying to tell the difference between how I behaved now and how I had before the Princess program began. At first I had noticed nothing, but now I was finally starting to see how much I had really changed. My walk was slightly different. I used my hands more when I talked. I was freer with my vocal range, something I was surprised not to have noticed before.

The next question, the one I still had not gained the nerve to tackle yet, was more important than what changes had occurred. Was I different because of the Princess Program, or just because I was less self conscious now than I used to be? That question alone made me laugh, as if anything asking it was an incredibly self-conscious thing to do. Yet the truth was, since joining the Princess Program I had stopped worrying near as much about how my actions and behavior affected what others thought of me. Until my meeting with my mom, so much of my actual behavior had become little more than background noise to the people and events going on around me, and my feelings.

The question from the night before was all that much more important to me because of all this. I thought of myself as a guy. But really, did I? Before the Princess Program -- no, before Christmas break, that would have been a definite "yes." Now, though, I was less sure. I thought of myself as many things; a student at Kingston Academy, a Princess, Andrew's boyfriend-slash-girlfriend, though that last one was still too new to really comprehend. Where did being a "guy" fit into any of that? Sure, Kingston was ostensibly a boys-only school, but Sarah blew that rule out of the water, and most of the student body would say I did as well despite my objections. Before the break that had made me angry, but now that I was coming to grips with why they felt that way I was starting to see their point.

"Grrgh, too much to think about this early in the morning," I muttered to myself as I pushed through the doors into the main building. Mr. Uchiha's office was close, giving me a perfect reason to put everything else on the back burner. For now, I needed to focus on the meeting at hand, and what it might be about.

-5-

"Good morning girls."

"Good morning, Mr. Uchiha," Sarah said while I simply smiled and nodded at our school's headmaster. A new shelf to the side of his desk showed me that he had managed to acquire more volumes of manga since the last time I had been in his office. When he caught where my eyes had wandered, he gave me a pleased grin.

"I might have some you would be interested in. You can take a look after our meeting if you would like, Beck. It is okay if I call you that, yes?"

"Yessir," I said. There was just something about the school's headmaster that made it impossible not to like him. "I would like that."

"Good. Now, to get under way with the reason I have called the two of you in here," he said in an official tone, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. From underneath his desk he produced a thin manila file folder. "I have come to understand that you two are considered the best Princesses in the school."

"Really?" I blurted, instantly regretting it.

Mr. Uchiha simply chuckled. "Because of this, you happen to be uniquely qualified for a project I am most excited to be allowed to do this semester." Sliding the folder across the desk to us, he flipped it open to reveal a series of documents and incomplete pamphlets.

"What are these, sir?" Sarah asked, picking up one part of the packet while I started skimming another.

"Those are mock-ups of a potential future introduction packet for the school, for which we would like the two of you to serve as models." Both Sarah and I stopped what we were doing to look at him incredulously. "Now, now. You're not the only ones who will be asked! However, you are potentially the two most important."

I took another look at the papers in my hands as the implications of what he was saying sank in. "You mean they're going to start advertising the Princess program?"

His grin grew even wider as he nodded enthusiastically. "Even though the program has another two years before we will be listing it as an official part of our school's teaching methods, it has garnered a great deal of praise from both students and those alumni who have been following it. As such, starting next year we will be offering a limited-release pamphlet including details on the Princess Program to judge how its inclusion affects the attitudes of potential students."

"And you want us to be your page five girls," Sarah said, with a giggle of her own.

"In a sense, yes."

"Absolutely! This will be so much fun!"

I didn't share Sarah's excitement. "I don't know. What will we have to do?"

Mr. Uchiha took another stack of papers from his desk and handed them to us. "The details are in here. For the most part, though, all that will be required is a few days of modeling for photographs, for which you will be paid the agency's normal modelling fee in addition to your normal Princess pay."

My eyebrows went up at that. Getting paid twice for dressing once sounded great, but there had to be a catch. "What's the catch?"

His eyes lit up as he answered. "Ever observant, aren't we? The catch is that as of yet I don't know what days the photographer will be in. As a result, I cannot guarantee that you won't have to perform a few extra days worth of Princess duties if they aren't available on the days that are already required."

I was sure that he was expecting me to protest, given my past history, but instead I simply shrugged. "I do it one day a week regardless, so it's not that big a deal."

"So you'll do it?" Sarah pleaded. When I nodded, she squealed and grabbed me in a hug. "Yes! This is gonna be so fun!"

"Very good, then. As with the Princess program, your parents will have to agree as well, but I doubt that should be a problem for either of you."

"No sir!"

"No sir," I echoed when Sarah finally released me.

As we left his office, Sarah started bouncing up and down. "This is gonna be so fun! Thanks for doing this with me Becky!"

I nodded, off in my own world. "Yeah, sure."

Sarah stopped her bouncing and looked at me worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I said, quietly, "I was just hoping it would be something about figuring out the problem with Professor Swift, not a job posing for a camera."

"Oh," she said, lowering her head. "I see. That is something we need to think about, isn't it. Do you think the others have come up with anything?"

"On Christmas break?" I scoffed. "No way!"

She laughed. "True."

Still, it was something to think about. More than anything else this semester, I was determined to figure Professor Swift out.

-6-

"So what was your meeting with the head about?"

"Oh, nothing," I said, staring into my bowl of soup.

"Nothing? Hah!" Jules said, glaring at me. "The head of the school doesn't call you in to meet him over nothing. Come on, spill."

I looked at the guys around me, unsure of what to do. Sarah was next to me, and seemed eager to share, though.

Finally, she couldn't stand it any more. "Ugh! He wants us to model for some school pamphlets. What?" She said when she saw the look I was giving her. "He didn't say we couldn't tell them!"

Jules grinned. "So what does that mean? You're both gonna be dressing up for photo shoots for the next few months?"

I nodded solemnly, while Sarah did the same with much more energy. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Cool!"

"Huh?"

I looked up, surprised by Jules's reaction. If anything I had expected him to tease us, or at least me. Instead, he thought it was...

"Cool?"

"Yeah!" He said, looking excited. "This means the Alumni like the program, right?"

"Umm, yeah?"

"Great!"

I looked around nervously, seeing that the few other students who were at the school already were looking at our table with curiosity. "Uh, Jules, could you keep it down a bit?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry," he said, much more quietly. "Don't you see why this is a good thing?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it means the program is succeeding."

He shook his head. "No! It means that until I graduate, I'm in for easy money!"

I cast my glance at the other Princesses, most of whom were nodding along with Jules's words.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Come on, don't act so down about it, you're the one who'll have it the easiest!"

The meal ended soon after that, the rest of the Princess table wanting to stay and talk about what it would mean for them that the program was on the short track to being approved. I, on the other hand, just wanted some time to think.

"Hey, can I walk with you?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Sarah standing behind me, a smile on her face.

"Sure, let's go."

When we were finally out of earshot of everyone else she began to talk. "You're nervous about the pictures?"

I paused for a moment before answering. "A bit."

She hugged me. "You know you're my best friend, right?"

I laughed. "Yeah."

"Then take this for what it is. I think this could be a good opportunity for you to have fun being a girl a bit more."

I stopped cold. "Why?"

She looked at me seriously. "Beck... you don't think I see how hard this is on you, but I do."

"Sarah..."

"Really. I still remember what it was like, being... a guy. Or trying to act like one. I know that it hurts, being forced to be someone you're not. Please, just listen," she said, when I went to speak again. "You want to know why I push you so much on the girl thing?"

I gave in. "Why?"

She hugged herself tightly for warmth as we stood in the cold outdoor air, not looking at me. "Because I don't see that in you. Yeah, there are things you don't like about it, but I see you getting more frustrated trying to fit in when you're dressed as a guy then as a girl. I heard your dad talking to his boyfriend about the meeting with your mom."

I had a chill pass through me, but not from the night air.

"Beck, I'm not saying you're supposed to be a girl or anything. I've pushed you too far in the past a few times, and I'm sorry for that. What I'm trying to say is... give it a shot this semester?"

"Give what a shot?"

She shrugged. "I dunno what I mean exactly. Being a girl? Being yourself?"

I scratched my head as we began to walk again, the windows of the dorm hall glowing brightly in the distance. "I always try to be myself."

She laughed. "Really? Alright then, let me rephrase that. Be yourself, but try not to worry about being a guy so much."

"So I should be a girl instead?"

She huffed. "Now is that what I said?"

"Well, kinda?"

She sighed. "You know what? I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say either."

We both smiled at each other after that, which soon turned into us laughing, which is what we found ourselves doing the rest of the way up to our rooms.

After she was gone, I quickly descended back into my funk. I was really getting tired of this emotional mumbo jumbo and all the bouncing back and forth. Surely there was a way to get everyone off my case about the girl thing?

Like lightning, it hit me. I wanted everyone to leave me alone about being a girl. I wanted time to make my own decisions without having to deal with the frustration of their mixed reactions.

The answer was so simple it was painful. Sure, it might cause a stir for a while, but it's not like anyone could really object, and in the long run it would make things a ton easier, not to mention less frustrating to me.

But could I go through with it?

Did I want to?

Those were my thoughts the rest of that evening, as the beginnings of a plan began to congeal in my mind.

(End of Part 2)

NOTES:

Alright, so things pick up a bit here, and Beck has made a surprise decision! What is it? Do you know? You probably have an idea... but is it the right one?

So, Terrynaut's comments on the last part got me thinking, and gave me an idea that meant a bit of a rewrite on some things I had already written, and the urge to get this out as soon as possible. I hope everyone enjoys what's to come!

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester

Part 3
By Melanie E.

Beck enacts his plan. Or does he?

-----

(Beginning of Part 3)

Part 3:
A Princess's Princess

-7-

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning , Mr. Johnson."

"I trust everyone had a good Christmas break? Very well then, let us return to our books. If you can all pass the reports I assigned you over the break up to the front of the class."

The first school day of the year started almost identically to any other day, a fact I fully welcomed. It's weird, isn't it? You always find yourself wanting school to end as soon as possible, but when it does you're always eager to return.

Of course, it being our first official day back all of us Princesses found ourselves wearing our girl's uniforms. I was thankful for this, too, since it made the first stage of the plan I had worked out the night before that much easier.

My plan? Well, it was simple.

I had tried to be a guy. That didn't seem to be working out, even in a school with only a single female student.

So if I couldn't be a guy, and there was no way I was going to hurt myself, that really only left one avenue to explore.

"Miss Henderson? Mister Uchiha has requested your presence in the auditorium."

I thanked the teacher and followed the student who had given him the message to the auditorium, where I found Sarah and the headmaster already waiting for me, as well as a person I had never met before.

"Ah, Becky, at last," Mr. Uchiha said, standing up and gesturing toward the other person, a short, round black woman with a brilliant smile. "This is Sandra Kahn, the photographer who will be in charge of the shots of you and Sarah for the pamphlet. Sandra, here is your other model, Becky Henderson."

"Great to finally meet you," she said, holding out her hand to me to shake. "I've heard a lot of good things about you from this galoot, if half of them are true I'm sure we'll have fun during the shoot."

"I'm sure we will," I said, liking the woman right away. "Are we starting today?"

She laughed. "Eager are we? No, but I did want to get a chance to meet the two of you," she pointed at Sarah and me, "before shoots actually started. Now, I hate to ask, but are you like Sarah, or are you just a crossdresser?"

I gave her a curious look. "Why does it matter?"

She looked me up and down, calculatingly. "You know what? I don't think it will. If all of this," she waved up my body, "is you, then we should be alright. I wanted to know because I've got a few outfits I'm thinking about seeing the two of you in that, well, let's just say they wouldn't hide a lot of masculine features."

I glanced at Sarah, who had a nervous expression. "You're not talking bathing suits or something?"

The shock on Sandra's face was obvious. "What? No! Just a few casual clothes and dresses."

"Oh," I said, the relief I was sure evident in my voice. Even Sarah seemed to be regaining her color. "The breasts are glued on, but everything else is me."

"Okay, I can work with that."

Sarah looked at me strangely at the mention of gluing the breasts on. Since tomorrow would be our first day back in boy mode, I was sure she was wondering why I would waste the glue and solvent for such a short time, or why I would use them at all given my past objections. I shook my head at her, though, and mouthed "later."

"Thank you girls, you can go back to your classes now," Sandra said, giving us each an unexpected hug on our way out.

We were barely out the door before Sarah asked me with concern, "you used the glue?"

"Don't worry," I said, smiling at her. "I've got a plan."

She didn't seem reassured.

"I'll tell you tonight, okay? After classes. Tell Leslie to join us in my room, and I'll get hold of Andrew, since this kind of affects all three of you. Maybe the rest of the Princesses, too, but we'll wait to tell them."

"...alright." She grinned, bouncing a little. "NOW I'm really curious! I won't be able to pay attention in classes all day now, you know that, right?"

I shook my head. "Just do your best, it will all be explained later."

She giggled, and we split up at the next intersection, each of us heading to our own second period classes.

-8-

Of course, things can never go to plan, can they?

It seemed that mid-semester was schedule change time for a number of the students at the school, and as a result Andrew had been nowhere to be found all day. I grumbled to myself about unreliable boyfriends as I trudged through the halls on my way to lunch.

*thud*

"Ow! Watch where you're... oh, there you are!"

The wall of meat I had walked headlong into just happened to be the person I had been looking for all day. He stood and rubbed his sternum with a grimace. I guess I had run into him harder than I thought.

"Sorry?"

He grinned, then leaned down and kissed my forehead. "Eat lunch with me to make up for it."

"Alright," I said, taking his arm in mine and dragging him toward the cafeteria.

"Hey! I need to drop my books off first!"

"Oh! Sorry."

With a laugh he pulled his arm out of mine and mussed my hair before turning and heading back the way I had just come. "So what's got you so preoccupied you didn't even see me waiting for you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," I asked teasingly as I followed him.

"Yup."

Now was my chance. "I'll tell you this afternoon. Sarah and Leslie should be there too."

"Where?"

"My room, after classes are over. It's important."

He looked worried. "It's nothing serious is it?"

"Uhh, maybe?" His look didn't improve. "It's nothing bad, I promise, but it can't really wait, and I'm going to need all three of you to help me out." I looked up at him pleadingly. "Please just say you'll be there?"

He stuffed his books in his locker before looking at me, blushing when he saw the pout I had put on. "Alright, just don't look at me like that, okay?" He had gotten a lot more comfortable around me, but it was kind of nice to know I could still throw him off balance if I needed to.

For the moment, though, I had more interest in food than teasing him, so as soon as he was ready I grabbed his arm again and began to drag him toward the cafeteria.

"Are you okay? There's something different about you today."

"I'm fine," I said, smiling.

In truth, I was a bit surprised at how liberating I was already finding my plan. Not worrying about making people see the difference between Beck and Becky meant I didn't have to think about how my actions would be seen when I switched roles, so I was free to do things I had been afraid of before. Beyond that, I also felt less afraid of pushing the boundaries a little bit more by flirting a little bit more openly with Andrew, something I still felt weird doing.

As we walked I felt him pull his arm out of mine again and wrap it around my shoulder. At first I thought I would be uncomfortable with the contact, but reminding myself of my dedication to giving the girl thing a shot, I made no move to change it. I guess he could feel my acceptance, because he gave me a small squeeze.

Perhaps I can handle this.

At least, that was what I thought until Jules saw us.

"Getting mighty comfy together, aren't ya?"

I felt myself stiffen, and I could feel Andrew's arm starting to shift. Wait. If I'm going to be a girl, then...

"And why not?" I asked, reaching up and pulling his arm back around my shoulder. "He IS my boyfriend, after all."

The smirk that had begun to form on Jules's face quickly died as she realized that her teasing wasn't having the desired affect. Rather than giving up, though, she shifted her target.

"Andrew, I'm surprised at you. You used to always be so nervous around Becky. What changed?"

Again I felt his hand shift, but I held it tightly in place until I felt him begin to relax. I smiled, and looked up at him.

"Would you get my tray for me?"

"Sure, what do you want?"

I told him, and once he had set off to get our trays I sat down next to Sarah with a look of triumph for a very vexed looking Jules. Sarah just looked amused, as did most of the other Princesses.

When Andrew returned, I took the chance to wind Jules up even further. "Thanks, sweetie," I said, taking my tray and giving him a kiss on the cheek. I heard Sarah snort, fighting down a laugh while Andrew burst out in another blush, but I ignored both and instead quirked an eyebrow up at the flabbergasted Jules.

Yes, the next few months were going to be quite fun.

-9-

"Ohmygod, I can't believe you DID that!"

I laughed along with Sarah as we sat on my bed waiting on Leslie and Andrew. She had followed me to my room after Drama, too eager to talk about the events at lunch to wait on them.

"I know! Did you see the look on Jules's face when I didn't let her teasing get to me?"

Sarah fell back on my bed giggling. "I think this is the first time she's ever been speechless like that! She's usually so in control of things."

It felt good getting my own back against Jules. I was sure she'd pay me back for it later with some kind of prank, but I was feeling too empowered to worry about that for the moment.

When her laughing finally calmed down, she looked at me sideways. "You did seem to be getting pretty cozy with him for the middle of the day though."

"Is that a problem?"

She shook her head with a grin. "Nope! Just saying. I don't think the teachers liked it much though, no PDAs and all that."

"None of them tried to stop us, though."

She giggled again. "I think some of them were just as happy to see Jules get what was coming to her as we were."

Jules hadn't said another word after my teasing back at her, simply looking at Andrew and I curiously. I liked her, and I knew that she liked me even if she did like to pick on people too much. I was just hoping I hadn't taken things too far.

"Knock knock," Andrew's voice said from the other side of the door, interrupting us.

"Come in."

Andrew came in, followed closely by a freshly showered and boy-ified Leslie.

"Not going to dinner as a Princess tonight?"

"Well, if he gets to hang out with his girlfriend," he punched Andrew in the shoulder hard enough to rock him sideways, "then I only thought it fair if I hung out with mine," he said as he sat down on the bed next to Sarah, grabbing her hand.

Andrew took my desk chair and straddled the back, facing the three of us. "Alright, so what is it you wanted to tell us?"

I stood up, going over in my head yet again the speech I had prepared for the three of them. "Alright, it's like this. You know how no matter how I dress and act people are always getting things mixed up? It's like even when I'm obviously trying to be a guy people see me as a girl." Leslie snorted, but a glare from Sarah shut him up. "Thank you. Anyway, I think I've come up with a plan to stop it."

A beaming smile began to grow across Sarah's face, while the color drained from Leslie's, and Andrew simply sat there, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You're quitting the Princess Program?"

I shook my head, biting my lip. "Not exactly."

Sarah jumped up and wrapped me in a hug, nearly knocking me down. "YES! Yesyesyesyesyes!"

I laughed. "I guess you approve then?"

"No."

Sarah released me, and as one we turned to Leslie, who looked far more upset than I would have expected.

"Why not?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He looked at me in disbelief. "You don't really think this will stop the confusion, do you? If anything, it will make it worse. Or were you planning to spend the rest of your time at the school as a girl?"

"No, just this year. Over the summer I'll be Beck full time, and when next year starts maybe I'll have developed enough that people will be less confused."

Now it was Sarah's turn to step back, looking worried. "Uh, Becky? I don't think that's likely to happen." She sighed. "As much as I'd like to have you around like this all the time, as long as you're part of the Princess program I don't think there's much you can do about how people see you."

I looked between the two of them, at their concerned expressions, and thought about what they had said. They were right, in a way, but....

I made a snap decision. "We'll see how it goes, then. If I can deal with it for one year, and what ya'll say is true and next year isn't any better than last semester we'll know if I can deal with being considered a girl all the time. If I can't, then I'll quit the Princess program." I turned and looked at Andrew, who had been quiet so far. "What do you think?"

He looked at me, not saying anything for several seconds, before standing himself and hugging me much like Sarah had. "It's up to you. I like having you around as Becky, but I like being around Beck too. Though, uh, I don't know how well everyone would react if you acted like you did today while dressed as a guy."

I fought the urge to laugh again as I pushed him away. "Don't worry, I wouldn't do that to you."

He smiled. "I told you before I liked you either way. I dunno, maybe that makes me bi or whatever, but you're still you."

"Alright," Leslie said, regaining my attention. His eyes were scrunched closed and he was rubbing his temples like he had a headache. "So you're gonna go through with this. What exactly are you going to do?"

I shrugged. "Well, just what I did today, mostly. I'll dress as a girl all the time. Since most people see me as one anyhow it should make things easier, and keep me from being frustrated when people call me Becky since that's who I'll be."

"And who all are you going to let in on this plan? Or were you just going to let everyone figure it out on their own?"

"Everyone thinks she's like me already," Sarah said, looking at me apologetically, "so most people probably won't think anything of it."

"You at least need to let the headmaster know, though," Leslie said, ever the voice of reason. "That way he can field any flack that might pop up with teachers and such. And they might make you change rooms, too."

That confused me. "Change rooms? Why?"

Sarah grinned. "To the one on the other side of my bathroom. They don't have a lot of rules in place for transgendered students, but one they have set up is that we're not to have paired rooms with anyone who isn't. Even though Leslie's a Princess, he doesn't count, but if you're dressing as a girl full time they'll probably decide that you do, even if you still identify as a guy."

I thought about that for a bit. Leslie looked annoyed by the idea of me sharing a bathroom with his girlfriend, though I wasn't sure which of the many possible reasons was bothering him. "Leslie, I really don't want you to have a problem with this. I'll need your support, not just as my big sister in the program, but as my friend."

The look on his face changed quickly from one of annoyance to one of abashed regret. "Sorry. It just seems so sudden, and after all the talk you've made of NOT being like Sarah, and your argument during the sleepover, I'm still not sure this is a good idea. Don't worry, I'll support you, though, whatever you do."

"Thanks."

Sarah poked Leslie in the side. "You're not worried about the room thing, are you? She never made a move on me when we shared my bedroom at my house, I doubt she would here."

"What!"

And that was the opening of a whole new can of worms.

(End of Part 3)

NOTES:

Alright, after some delay here's part 3! I hope everyone likes where it's going.

As usual, if you comment, more will come!

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester

Part 4
By Melanie Ezell

It's the weekend, and Becky and Sarah are all ready for a little fun out on the town!

-----

Part 4: A Date With A Princess

-10-

Things were, to put it lightly, interesting for the next week and a half. The whispers were quick to start the next morning when I arrived to class in my girl's uniform again, and continued to grow throughout the weekend, when I remained a girl even on our days off. Monday saw my meeting with Mr. Uchiha to let him know what I was doing, to which he only smiled and nodded, and the entirety of that week things continued to swirl around me.

Things finally started to calm down on Friday, for which I was grateful. Now it was Saturday, and Sarah and I had special plans for this day.

"Where are you two off to?" Mr. Barber, this semester's house attendant, asked us as we bounced down the stairs dressed for the day.

"We got a day pass," Sarah said, "so we're meeting up with Leslie and Andrew for a walk downtown."

"Oh," he said, disappointed, "I'm afraid I scheduled the room move for today."

"I'm sorry, the room move?" I asked.

"To the transgendered room next to Sarah's."

"...Oh. Umm, can't it wait until tomorrow?" I had hoped that they had forgotten about the room situation, or that Leslie and Sarah had been wrong, but apparently they hadn't, and they weren't, respectively.

Mr. Barber huffed. "Well, I guess I can reschedule. You girls have fun today."

"Thank you," we said in practiced unison. It was something that Sarah had wanted to do, so I had reluctantly agreed to it, though I had to admit to enjoying the expressions on people's faces when we pulled it off.

Mr. Barber simpy shook his head and waved us off, so without further interruption we hurried to the front of the school, where the bus was already waiting for us to head out.

The way the school handled weekend passes was interesting to say the least. Of the nearly four hundred students who attended the school, about twenty-five passes were granted each weekend. Princesses usually had priority second only to the senior class, and of course, exceptions would be made for those who had family who would pick them up as opposed to using the school's bus and escorts, though permission slips were still needed, and no student would be granted more than one weekend pass a month without good reason, hence why Sarah and I had been so adamant about using ours.

Of course there were ulterior motives as well. It had been Sarah's idea that if I were truly interested in giving Andrew an honest shot that we had to go on a date, and if we were going to go on a date, then she was going to drag Leslie along on one of their own, and if we were both going on dates then we might as well double. And so our weekend had been set, leaving me much more nervous than I had been expecting.

"Relax, it'll be fun!"

Leslie and Andrew were already on the bus, having each taken a seat on opposite sides of the aisle and holding us spots. As soon as I slid in Andrew wrapped his arm around my shoulder and gave me a light squeeze.

"You seem nervous."

"Nervous? I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous?"

"She's nervous because it's your first 'date' date," Sarah said, leaning over the aisle and poking me in the side. "Ease up, have fun!"

Andrew leaned down, his mouth close enough to my ear I could feel his breath. "If you don't feel comfortable with this, we don't have to do it."

I shivered at his closeness. Geez, this was going to be difficult. "No, I want to. I need to. If we're actually... boyfriend and girlfriend, then going on a date is kind of a necessary part of the whole 'dating' thing, you know?"

He chuckled. "I would think so," he said, nodding.

"SO," I reached up and held the hand wrapped around my shoulder. "Let's do this."

"Alright."

None of us said much on the bus ride into town, Leslie and Sarah too busy making moon-eyes at each other, while I leaned against Andrew's shoulder and thought about things.

Okay, so I had admitted to myself I liked a guy. That was easy enough. "Yeah, right," my inner monologue said, before I told it to shut up. Really, though, admitting I liked him was the easy part. Dealing with the repercussions of that were harder.

How do I react around him? I suppose I could just act like I've always seen girls act in movies and books with their boyfriends, but that doesn't seem like me, even if I am trying the whole "girl" thing out for a whirl. I felt him shift beneath me, and that brought my current situation into sharper relief.

I was cuddling with him on the bus ride into town for our first date. Holy crap, not just my first date with a guy, but my first date ever.

I was doomed.

"You alright? You look really pale."

"Huh?" I looked up into his concerned face, and forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good," he said, leaning down and kissing my forehead softly.

Andrew really liked me. I liked him. Whew, okay. I can make this work.

"So what do you want to do while we're in town today?" I asked him.

"I dunno. Walk around a bit, maybe grab something to eat. Mostly just spend time with you."

"Right answer," I said quietly to myself as I settled back into his side, finally ready for my date.

-11-

"You seriously want ice cream? In the middle of January?"

"Hey! First of all, it's almost the END of January. Secondly, how can you not want ice cream?"

Leslie just shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to ward off the affect of Sarah's puppy-eyed pout.

"You know she won't give up until you buy her ice cream," Andrew said, laughing.

"And if you buy her some, I'll have Andrew buy me some, just to even things out."

"Yeah, we'll -- wait, what?" Andrew's voice drifted off into confusion.

Sarah and Leslie both started laughing, which led to me laughing, and Andrew catching up not far behind. With smiles on all our faces, we headed into the ice cream shop Sarah had introduced me to the semester before.

I did pay for my own ice cream, though. And Andrew's, to make it up to him for my teasing.

Our date day had gone quite well, I was more than pleased to say. Being winter, many of the more interesting shops were closed down until tourist season started in another couple of months. That was no deterrent to us, though, as we took advantage of the lack of traffic to take our time exploring as much of the downtown area as we could in the time we had available.

Sarah tried to take the opportunity to embarrass Leslie and Andrew by dragging them into one of the more risque clothing shops, only to have her plan backfire when Leslie started offering her suggestions while Andrew and I laughed at some of the outrageous outfits that people buy thinking they made them attractive. I was happy to learn that Andrew was just as confused by people's attraction to feathers, fur, and costumes as I was, though he did blush quite a bit when I noticed him eyeing a schoolgirl outfit and teased him about not getting enough of them during classes.

After that we had gone for food, at Mogwai's of course. It seemed that even most of the locals had opted to stay home, the weather still being bitterly cold and threatening snow, leaving us with virtually free reign of the antique jukebox and pinball machines the place was known for.

Then, of course, had been the requisite romantic walk around the park. The pond was iced over, though not thick enough to walk or skate on, but it was still beautiful to look at, watching what was left of the dead leaves blowing across the surface of the ice.

That was what had led to Sarah's craving for ice cream, hence our departure for the parlor down the street. Through the entire walk through the park, and even through eating our ice creams, Andrew's arm had never left my shoulder, and not only had I been glad for the warmth, but I was rapidly growing more comfortable with the feeling of him holding me so close.

It was a nice feeling.

As was to be expected, it was at the exact moment that I had finally relaxed completely into our "date" that it was time to head back to the bus for school, not without a few less-than-happy looks from the staff who had accompanied us for our so public displays of affection. I had heard the whispering at school, and I knew that even among the staff there was plenty of confusion when it came to just what I was doing, but I decided to just ignore them and play things by my own rules until someone said something, which none of them seemed intent on doing.

At Sarah's urging, we didn't let the end of our trip into town slow our date down any. Once back on campus, we went about arranging a movie night in the lounge.

"I say we watch something romantic."

"Uh, no," I said, giving Sarah a lopsided grin. "I saw what your idea of 'romantic' was back at your place. No offense, but I doubt either Andrew or Leslie would be able to stay awake through one of your period dramas."

"I dunno, 'Gangs of New York' was pretty good."

"We're talking more along the lines of 'Pride and Prejudice,'" I told Andrew, drawing a wince from him. "Hey, it's not that bad. I just didn't think you two would be up for something like that."

"Uhm, no."

"Why not 'Transformers?"

We all glared at Leslie, who shrank back. "You ALWAYS want to watch 'Transformers,'" Sarah said exasperatedly. "I know you have a thing for Megan Fox, but come on."

"The Road Warrior?"

"Nope."

"The Lion King?"

"We're not five!"

"Stomp The Yard?"

"...What?"

"Priscilla, Queen of the Desert?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Alright, how about Maverick?"

Apparently Andrew was the only one of us who had seen it, but after he described it to us we all agreed it sounded like fun. Soon we were set up in the lounge, the flatscreen TV running the DVD, and a few other students trickling in to join us. Unlike the teachers, though, none of them looked at us twice as we snuggled on the couches, watching the movie, and that was perfectly fine by me.

-12-

"Urgh!"

I glared at Andrew. "Come on, those are the same bags you brought up to my room, what, two weeks ago?" Had it really been that recently? "They aren't any heavier now than they were then."

"What, not even a little sympathy?"

"I didn't tell you to get both at once."

"*Sigh* Alright then," he said, suddenly picking up pace and acting much less burdened. "It was worth a shot."

I fought down the chuckle that threatened to come out, not wanting to encourage him.

Moving rooms turned out to be much less of a chore than I had expected it would be. With few personal belongings in my room other than my clothes and a handful of books, it took precisely one load each for Sarah, Leslie, Andrew and I to move all of my things to the room connected to hers. Another twenty minutes, and I was unpacked and ready to go.

"So what now?"

"Now Sarah and Becky follow me to their first photo shoot," Mr. Uchiha said, strolling in through the open door of my new room.

Sarah groaned. "But we just finished moving and unpacking things! We'll be all sweaty and stuff."

I stared at her. "You carried one box and hung up my uniforms. You're all sweaty after that?"

"Not really, but I'm not getting photographed without cleaning up first."

Mr. Uchiha nodded. "Very well, then, Sandra expected as much. How's the new room so far?"

"Well," I said, looking around. "It's a room. It's not all that different than my other one, though it might take me a bit to get used to the new position of the bed." While my old room had been oriented with my head to the east, the new room had me turned west, a change that always left me feeling odd the first few days. I would have turned the bed, or flipped what end I slept at, but this kept the layout as close to my old room as possible.

Mr. Uchiha smiled. "I'm glad you seem to have settled in so quickly. I'll tell Sandra you will be ready in twenty minutes, she'll be waiting in the lounge."

"Alright, sir, thank you," Sarah said.

"No, girls, thank you. And have fun."

As soon as Andrew and Leslie left, Leslie somewhat reluctantly, Sarah and I took turns in the shower before getting dressed in our nicest school uniforms and heading downstairs.

"There you are," Sandra said with a smile as we entered the room. She stepped around us a couple of times, nodding to herself, before pulling out a legal pad and starting to write. "Alright, I think that for today your uniforms will be fine. Most of the clothes I was hoping to get you to eventually wear aren't appropriate for how cold it is at the moment anyhow. Now, if the two of you will follow me we can get started." She picked up a pair of large black bags that neither Sarah nor I had noticed and headed out the front doors, leaving me and Sarah with little choice but to follow her quickly.

From that moment on, the rest of our day was filled with posing, moving to a new location, watching Sandra set up her lights like she wanted them, and posing again. At first it was kind of annoying, being bossed around and told how to stand.

"Backs straighter."

"Alright, now lean over her shoulder and point to a page in the book."

"No, no, you don't look natural enough. Be looser."

After a while though, Sandra was correcting us less and less, and it started to be a little fun.

We finally finished up after about three hours, and Sandra gave us a beaming smile as she packed up her cameras and lights for the final time. "You girls did great. I'll probably be back some time later this week to do a few more posed shots once I've chosen the male models to join you. I was expecting this to take much longer, but if the two of you can keep this up I can have all the shots I need by the end of February, except maybe the warm-weather ones."

"Thanks! It was fun," Sarah told her. I just nodded, exhausted from the constant posing. It had been fun, but it was also tiring, having to hold the poses she wanted or repeat the actions she wanted to catch mid-motion over and over. I was glad it was over, but in a small way I was also looking forward to the next session.

We left Sandra at the entrance to the dorm hall and headed up to our rooms. I didn't know about Sarah, but I was tired enough to fall asleep, and that was exactly what I had planned until dinner rolled around.

---

I was standing in a room, looking out on a crowd as cameras flashed around me. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, but I forced myself to smile out into the darkness over the heads of the people everywhere around me. I was on a small stage, and there was a microphone in front of me. Just as I began to feel like the tension was too much to handle, a man with greased-back hair stepped up next to me, smiling through his teeth into his own microphone.

"Welcome to 'Ask And Tell,' Beck, and might I say you look lovely this evening," he said in an announcer's voice.

"Uh, thanks," I responded nervously. Looking down I saw that I was wearing a lilac dress made of some kind of soft shimmery material, with a neckline that provided just a hint of cleavage. When had I put this on? "It's a pleasure to be here?"

"It's a pleasure to have you," he said, his voice even greasier than his hair. With a leer towards my chest he settled into a chair I couldn't recall seeing there before, waving to one that had appeared behind me. "Sit down and talk with me, tell us all what it's like."

"What what's like?"

He laughed, and the people in the room around us laughed with him. "Why, being the first guy to grace the cover of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, of course!" He snapped his fingers, and a monitor lit up behind us.

It was me, but it... wasn't. I was standing in a sexy pose, my hands behind my head and looking off to the side, with a yellow bikini on that left little to the imagination. I definitely didn't look like a guy in the picture, that was for sure.

My eyes narrowed as I recalled his choice of words. "Tell me, do I look like a guy in that picture?"

He shook his head, the same leering grin never leaving his face. I continued. "The story goes something like this..."

---

*KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK*

"Hrnh? What?"

"Come on Becky, it's dinnertime," Leslie called through the door, sounding impatient.

With a yawn I stood up and stretched, fighting down the twinge of worry that had sprung up inside of me. I wasn't sure what the dream had meant, and I wasn't sure I wanted to find out, either.

(End of Part 4)

-----

NOTES:

I know, I know, I'm late on posting again... blame it on my lack of inspiration for most of the last two weeks. Last night I got a sudden burst, so here's the result presented in splendid Closetvision for all you readers out there!

As usual, if you comment, more will come! Lay it on me! Dis my work, tell me it sucks, then tell me how to build it back into something bigger and better! Let's do this right!

Melanie E.

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
Part 5
By Melanie Ezell

After too long of a hiatus, we again return to Beck's adventures as a private school Princess!

-----

Part 5: Portrait Of A Princess

-13-

"That's really me?"

"That's really you," Sandra said, smiling as she showed Sarah and I the final proofs from our first photo shoot the week before.

The pictures were, well, surprising. I had expected to see me in the pictures. By me, of course, I mean the old me, Daniel. Wearing a skirt, yes, but still the same person as I had always seen. The same person I thought I saw each morning in the mirror underneath the makeup and school uniform.

No. Sarah was Sarah, but the other person in the pictures was someone I didn't recognize. She, and I really cannot emphasize the "she" enough, was confident, and smiling, and so many other things that I just couldn't see in myself.

"What's the matter? Do you not like them?" Sandra asked me, concern in her voice as she drew the photos back and looked over them critically herself. "I thought they came out great."

I shook my head, trying to shake the sense that I had just looked into an alternate reality. "Oh, yeah, sorry. The pictures are great, really."

"You sure?" She asked, seeming to second guess her own handiwork. "I won't show them to your headmaster if you'd be upset by them being used."

"No, they're great. I just didn't expect what I saw, that was all."

Her eyes lit up. "I see," she said, with a knowing look. "You are a beautiful girl, Becky. It's nice to have that confirmed every now and again, though, isn't it?"

I forced myself to smile as I answered her, "Yeah, you're right." I mentally chastized myself for slipping up in how I had been viewing myself.

If I was going to do this right, not just being a Princess, but giving actually being a girl a shot, then I couldn't just settle for being one to the outside world. If this was going to work, and not drive me crazy, I needed to see myself the same way everyone else did. That would be harder than it sounded, though.

"You girls ready to take some more photographs?"

"Yup!" Sarah said next to me, full of energy and ready to begin.

As for me, I gave Sandra another smile as I stood and nodded.

This time around, it was almost like we were old pros, finishing our shots in record time, with the grin on Sandra's face growing with each successive shot. Under the large elm tree out front, sitting and reading, or in the hallways between classes, other students rushing past us as we stood outside this locker or that, searching for the perfect location for the pictures.

The biggest surprise, though, came when we were brought to stand outside the front of the school. There stood Leslie and Andrew, talking to Mr. Uchiha, who burst out into a large smile of his own as we walked toward the small group.

"Ah, Sandra, and our two lovely models. How is today's shoot going?"

"Absolutely fantastic, the girls have proven very easy to work with. And I've got proofs from the last shoot, if you want to take a look at them after we're done."

"Very well. As for right now, a little birdie told me you would be shooting the front of the main hall today, and I had a pair of young men volunteer to join the girls in the shoot, if you would allow it."

Leslie and Andrew were grinning widely as they stepped toward us. Sandra seemed surprised when Andrew wrapped his arms around me, but that quickly passed, and soon all four of us found ourselves posing for her as she took shot after shot.

I was more than a bit jealous of the boys. While Sarah and I were being ordered to stand like this, move like that, adjust this part of our posture, the guys were simply given a loose approximation of where to stand and told to hold it. I knew that the two of us were the real focuses of the shoot, but it still seemed unfair.

Soon enough, Sandra dropped her camera and gave us all a radiant smile. "Alright, people, that's all for today. You've done great."

It was a struggle to hold in my sigh of relief as we said our goodbyes to Sandra. Andrew looked down on me with concern as I leaned heavily on his arm.

"Is everything alright? Every time you do one of these print shoots you look like you're gonna collapse afterward."

I looked up at him, my mouth hanging open. "Did you SEE how much she had me and Sarah moving around out there, or how we were posing? I'm exhausted because it's hard work."

He winced at the acid in my tone, but nodded and continued walking with me.

"I... I'm sorry for snapping, Andrew," I said, hanging my head. "I'm just a little preoccupied today I guess."

He nodded again, then stopped, his face registering surprise. "Oh, yeah, I forgot! Stew said he wanted to talk to you when you had a chance. Something about his little sister?"

My initial confusion quickly disappeared as I recalled the little girl who had been so enamoured with my dress during the Parents' Day events. "Rosie? Oh, I bet he has my part of the pictures of the two of us together!"

"That could be it. He also said he had some more information on Professor Swift."

The grin that had begun to grow on my face at the mention of Rosie grew when I heard that information. The sooner that was worked out, the better.

Feeling in a really good mood for the first time in days, I gave Andrew's arm a squeeze as I snuggled up more closely next to him. "So, you got any other plans for today? It is Saturday, after all -- no classes tomorrow, we could stay up late and watch a movie?"

"Heh, that sounds good, sure. Do you wanna invite Leslie and Sarah again, too?"

"Of course!" I didn't think Sarah would forgive me if I had a 'date night' without her. Suddenly, a wicked thought crept into my head. "Does Jules like guys or girls?"

Andrew paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitted as he thought. "You know? I can't remember. He was dating a girl back home before coming out here, but I think they broke things off when he got accepted here."

"Too bad, I was going to say we should see if he wanted to bring a date too, but I don't want to say something that will offend him."

Andrew gave me a quick squeeze and laughed. "I dunno, knowing Jules he'd invite a guy just to be a smart ass and try to make the rest of us uncomfortable."

If my last idea had been wicked, then the one that was now bombarding me was pure evil. "Ooh, that could be perfect."

"I don't know if I like the sound of that," Andrew said worriedly as I started to quietly cackle to myself.

-14-

I knocked softly on the frame of the open door. At first it didn't seem he had even heard me, but after only a few seconds' delay Stewart looked up at me.

"So what's up? You wanted to see me."

He nodded, and without a word closed down his laptop and picked up a folder next to it, holding it out toward me.

I guess today he was a man of few words.

I felt like an intruder as I entered his room. Like most of the other guys, Stewart was bunked with another student, someone named Ronald something-or-other according to Andrew, and it was immediately obvious looking around the room which side was whose. While the side Stewart sat on was clean and neat, his books all shelved and organized by height and his clothes neatly put away, Supposedly-Ronald's laundry was strewn about, his school books haphazardly stacked in a corner on top of a small refrigerator that had seen better days. All in all, it was not a room I felt comfortable in.

The folder was one of the heavy manila types used in file cabinets, and was stuffed full of papers covered in text, with a stack of photographs on top of who I was guessing was a much younger Professor Swift. My eyes grew wide as I looked through the contents of the folder.

"Driving records? School records? Personal email correspondences... holy crap!"

"Just don't ask how I--"

"I don't wanna know."

"Good."

I almost felt bad for Ol' Swifty if his personal information was so easy to obtain a high schooler could do it, then again, from what I had heard there wasn't a whole lot that Stewart couldn't do with a computer.

"This is also yours," he said, handing me a smaller, white envelope with "Princess Becky" written on the outside in yellow crayon.

"Thanks."

Stewart grunted, then looked toward his laptop longingly. I fought back the urge to laugh as I turned around and left, closing his door behind me on the way out.

---

"What's that you got there?"

"Huh? Oh!" I looked down at the envelope laying next to me. "Something Stewart handed me. It's from Rosie."

"Who's Rosie?"

"The little girl I had my picture taken with on Parent's Day."

Sarah stopped working on her history homework and bounced over to sit next to me on the bed. "Well, open it!"

I grimaced. I had been wanting to open it when I had gotten back to my room, but Sarah had knocked before I could, wanting to get my help on her History assignment. Not wanting to open it until I was alone, I had set it aside and started reading her parts of her workbook as she asked for them. Now, though, she had seen the envelope, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with not sharing it with her.

Hiding my annoyance, I picked up the envelope and carefully broke the piece of scotch tape holding it closed. My annoyance quickly disappeared as I pulled out the four folded sheets of kindergarten-ruled paper inside, held together by one of those stapleless staplers in the shape of a flower.

"What's it say?"

With a smile I began to read.

"Dear Princess Becky."

"So cute!"

"Shh!" When Sarah was quiet I started over. "Dear Princess Becky. Thank you for the picture you took with me. I hope you are liking your school. My brother told me you were a boy but I told him you were not because you were too pretty to be a boy. When I grow up I want to be pretty like you. My mom is making me a dress like yours so that I can be a princess too. When I visit again I hope I see you and we can play games together. I have a new doll and she is named Becky. Love, Rosie."

After finishing the letter, we sat in silence while I simply stared at the paper in my hand.

"That has to be the most adorable thing I've ever seen," Sarah said, breaking the silence at last.

"...Yeah."

"You're going to write her back, right?"

"Of course," I said, not even having to think about it.

"Good. So, can I see the pictures?"

"What pictures?"

"Of you and her!"

"Oh! Yeah!" I had completely forgotten about the pictures. After a hasty shuffle I found the folder and flipped it open, pulling out the pictures of me and Rosie and shutting the folder before Sarah could see what else was inside, though apparently not fast enough.

"What was the rest of that?"

I sighed. "Information on Swift."

"Ah. Pictures!"

With a small laugh I handed her the stack of prints from our impromptu photo shoot back in November and watched as she looked through them. I had to admit, they were cute. Rosie just looked so happy, while her father was obviously fighting to hide his discomfort at having me sitting on his lap. I couldn't help but giggle when I noticed that there was also a candid shot of Rosie with my legs in a death-grip of a hug, me smiling down at her.

"You really did have fun with her, didn't you?" Sarah asked, a soft look in her eyes.

"You know what? I think I did."

"And she's right, you made a beautiful Princess, even in those pink monstrosities we were wearing."

I looked at the photographs again, and for what felt like the first time, I didn't feel that looking pretty was a bad thing at all.

-15-

After reading the letter it was almost unbearable to have to sit through the rest of Sarah's History before she finally bid me goodnight with a smile and a wink. As soon as she was out the door, I had a notebook and pencil in hand and began to work on my response letter to Rosie.

"Dear Rosie," I wrote slowly at the top of the page, in the most feminine script I could manage.

Now what?

I scowled as I tried to work out what to write to her. She was only six. What do you write to a six year old about? Dolls? Clothes? I didn't know. I wanted to write a letter she could understand, but I didn't want to talk down to her either. This was becoming more difficult than I had expected.

Whew. Okay. Come on, Beck, you can do this.

Then it hit me. Perhaps that was the problem? I was thinking of this from the viewpoint of Beck, the boy who was living as a girl and a private school Princess. Maybe I needed to think from a different direction to do this right.

Setting the pencil and notebook down next to me on my bed, I closed my eyes and leaned back, thinking.

Beck. No, this isn't a letter from Beck, it's a letter from Becky. Princess Becky, I thought with a smile, remembering how much she had loved my dress. Yes, that was the ticket. Who was Princess Becky, and what would she write to a little girl?

That was all it took to inspire me.

"Dear Rosie,

Thank you so much for the letter! It was wonderful to hear from you again, and you looked beautiful in the pictures you sent me.

I am very much enjoying school. Everyone here is always very nice to me, and treats me just like a Princess should be treated. I was even in our school play!

Me and my best friend Princess Sarah," I laughed, imagining the kick Sarah would get out of reading that, "are always having great adventures with our friends Leslie and Andrew. Do you have a best friend at your school? We do everything together, and when you come back to visit she would love to meet you. She is very pretty too, just like you. We even spent the Christmas holiday together with our parents.

Did you have a good Christmas? I bet you were given lots of wonderful presents.

Love,

Princess Becky"

I read over my letter to her one more time. It was a little cheesy, I guess, but I was trying to keep the wording as simple as I could so she might be able to read it on her own. Likely she would have to have her mom read it to her, but remembering how nice her parents had been it occurred to me that they would probably enjoy doing so.

With that out of the way, I checked the clock. Drat! Only an hour to prepare for my date tonight! I guess that's one of the hazards of being a girl, huh?

I was dressed and ready in record time, just finishing up the last of my makeup when I heard the knock at my door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Sarah!"

"And Jules!"

I checked myself over, and satisfied that I looked sufficiently girly for the evening's events, swung the door open.

Sure enough, there stood Sarah with Leslie's arm draped over her shoulder, and next to them was Jules in boy mode, with...

I fought back a snort at the panicked look on Ruby's face as she stood there in her dress, Jules' arm around her shoulders just like Leslie was holding Sarah.

"Going after the young ones, Jules?"

"Well, I couldn't let you guys have all the fun of a date night, could I?"

This wasn't working out exactly to plan, but with a little more preparation, it could be just as good.

"Well, you guys stay out here, I have something I need to talk to Sarah and Ruby about."

Without waiting for an answer I grabbed the two girls and dragged them into my room, shutting the door behind us.

Sarah started giggling to herself the second the door was closed -- after all, she was already in on the plan, since we had discussed it earlier.

"What's going on, you two?" Ruby asked us, nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"We had a plan for tonight, but you being here kind of throws it off a bit," I told her, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

"I'm sorry! Jules asked, and I mean, I thought she'd be dressed as a girl too and it would all be Princesses, but when I showed up she was a he, I mean... I can go back to my room if--"

"No, that's alright," Sarah interrupted her, with a warm smile. "It'll just take a little rearranging of things. You might have a little fun with it too, if you wanna play along with us to wind Jules up a bit."

"What do I have to do?" She asked, suspicion in her eyes. It was immediately obvious that she had not planned on her evening morphing into a date, and she was not ready for it.

"Nothing you don't want to," I said, watching the relief flood her face, "but here's what we had in mind..."

As we filled her in on the plan in whispers, she began to nod excitedly, and I knew the evening would be a blast.

(End of Part 5)

NOTES:

Alright, here it is! Sorry this took so long, peeps! But, thanks to the ever-inspiring Angharad, I'm back on track, and with any luck I'll have the next part(s) out quicker than this :(

Read! Enjoy! Comment!

Melanie E.

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
Part 6
By Melanie Ezell

Undercover Princess

-----

(Beginning of Part 6)

Part 6: Undercover Princess

-16-

As the next week passed, I found myself slipping more easily into the role of Becky the girl than ever before. It was no huge surprise to me that applying the same mental shift I had used to write my letter for Rosie to other events in my life helped to make things easier, but it did worry me a little how much less effort such a shift was starting to take.

At first it was the little things that caught my attention, or more to the point didn't. The first time I caught myself looking through one of Sarah's clothing magazines and imagining myself in them outside the context of the Princess Program was when it finally occurred to me that I was finally settling into the whole girl thing.

Of course, realizing I hadn't been dwelling on things was enough to make me start to dwell on why I hadn't been dwelling so much, and that much dwelling is never good for one's psyche. I needed something, anything, to keep myself busy and keep the non-dwell going.

Without any photo shoots left to worry about until after spring break, I found myself turning my non-Princess non-classwork time to another pursuit that had been bugging me.

Professor Swift.

Stew's folder had been an enlightening read, not the least of which was the knowledge that Swift was a member of Stonewall. Him? Really?

That was only the tip of the iceburg, though. There was also several pages of internet mumbo jumbo I didn't fully understand that linked Swift with the pen name Kelly Brice, and a whole slew of papers written under that name for publications on LGBT rights. What was more confusing was that a lot of them focused on the mistreatment of transsexuals and crossdressers.

Wait. That doesn't make any sense. This couldn't be the same Professor Swift who was constantly berating us for wearing our Princess uniforms to class, could it? Though come to think of it I had never seen him have a significant problem with Sarah, at least not beyond what he had with the rest of the boys who were in his classes.

One of the papers I found especially interesting. It was titled "Transgender Teens in the Modern School Environment," and was all about the lack of actions taken by schools around the country to protect transsexual and "gender variant" teens, whatever that meant. I almost threw the paper down in disgust when I read the spirited defense of these kids in the paper, knowing it came from the biggest pain in the rear I had seen in the entire school for us Princesses.

How could he write something like this and then treat us the way he did? For all the papers I was reading talked about equality and acceptance, he had never shown either in his treatment of us in class! It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that Stew must have made some mistake in his research, because there wasn't any way that this was the same man I had for Civics every day.

"There isn't a mistake."

"Are you sure?"

Stew sighed, not looking up from his lunch tray as I plopped down across from him, the folder between us. He didn't seem to be comfortable with my presence at his table, but I needed to figure this out, and fast.

"Yes, I'm sure. Hey, I was as surprised as you, and I thought the same thing at first, but I double and triple checked everything and... there's no way around it. Kelly Brice is Professor Swift."

"I can't believe it," I said, staring at the folder dumbfounded.

"Neither could I, but it does kind of make sense when I think about it."

Blink. "WHY?"

"Well, last year I had Swift for Civics, like you do. We were all assigned research papers, and for mine I chose to write a paper about the effect the Princess Program had on the student body. In it I described the Princesses as transgender a couple of times, and it seemed to go over well with the class."

"Yeah?" I urged him when he stopped. This was the most I had ever heard Stew talk, and I wasn't about to let him stop mid-story.

"I got an F, with a note telling me to more thoroughly research my paper next time before using terminology I didn't understand. Then he went off on a diatribe about the difference between someone who crossdresses and someone who is a crossdresser and transgender. He had treated me about the same as everyone else before, but after that paper he got really hateful toward me."

I thought back to the beginning of the year, and Swift's cruel comments toward Stewart that first day. "You haven't had any problems with him this year, have you?"

"Heh. No, I managed to avoid any of his classes this year. And I'm going to continue doing so for as long as I can. He's had it in for me for over a year now, and that was all before...."

"Before what?"

Stewart fidgeted with his food, blushing. "Just before."

I wanted to ask more questions, but before I could Stewart stood up and headed for the disposal window, half his lunch still on his tray.

I stood up, intending to follow him and continue to ask questions, when a very angry hand grabbed me by the shoulder and forced me back down into my seat with an unintentional squeak of surprise.

"We need to talk," Jules said as he sat down next to me, his voice calm but his eyes glowing with anger.

This was a conversation I had been avoiding for several days, and now that it had caught up to me I could feel the sweat dripping down my back as I braced for his anger.

"That was some shit the three of you pulled on Friday night."

I nodded, too scared by the look in his eyes to speak.

"Do you have any idea how that made me feel?"

Shakeshakeshake.

"I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life!"

Nodnodnod.

"And now you're going to pay for it."

Nodnod-SHAKESHAKESHAKESHAKESHAKE.

I jumped when Jules's hand slammed into the table, rattling it and sending food flying from several of the other students' trays. I watched nervously as he stood up and stomped off, fully expecting something else to happen, and somehow not all that relieved when it didn't.

Looking at the table where he had smacked it, there was a single sheet of paper there. With a great deal of trepidation I picked up the sheet, and after reading it I groaned aloud.

"What did you do to him?" Amos asked, slipping into the seat that Jules had just vacated, his eyes wide with awe.

Feeling a headache rising, I leaned back in my own seat and rubbed my temples. "Well, it was kind of like this..."

-17-

***Friday night, four days earlier***

Jules looked at us suspiciously as the three of us came out of my room, grinning conspiratorily.

"What do you guys have planned?"

"Oh, nothing," I said in a sing-song voice. "I'm just glad you decided to join us for our date night."

"Well, I've gotta guard my brother's honor after all," he said with a smirk. I'm sure he was expecting me to be caught off guard, but instead I simply smiled even more, to be rewarded with the first hint of uncertainty I had ever seen on his face.

"Let's gather up the boys, it's a little early but we can go ahead and get started."

As expected, both Leslie and Andrew were more than ready when we knocked at their doors, and without further ado our little group made our way to the common room. There was already a group there playing Halo on one of the televisions, but they agreed to turn it down so we could hear our movie on the other side of the room. The extra people weren't something I had accounted for, but it wasn't an obstacle my plan couldn't overcome.

"So what're we watching tonight?"

"Sarah and I already picked something," I said, pulling the DVD case out of my bag and handing it to Sarah without letting anyone else see what it was. Ruby knew, but she was part of the conspiracy now, and sworn to secrecy.

When the disc loaded up all three boys groaned as one.

"Pride and Prejudice?"

"Hey, I like this movie," Sarah said, smacking Leslie in the arm when she saw his grimace.

"You don't mind, do you?" I asked Andrew, seeing his eyes narrowing as he stared at the screen.

His face quickly changed to a smile when he looked down at me. "Nah, it's a good date movie."

"I mind," Jules said sourly from the other couch, where he sat with Ruby at arms length away.

I winked at her, and Ruby gave me a nervous grin before sliding closer to Jules and putting her arm around his waist. "But it's a great date movie! We can cuddle and watch it, it'll be fun!"

I fought not to laugh as Jules' expression morphed from cool disapproval to outright horror, his body stiffening as his gaze shifted down from the screen to the slip of a Princess gripping his waist and looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

"What exactly are you and Sarah planning for tonight?" Andrew whispered in my ear quietly, the music swelling as the opening credits rolled on the screen.

"Don't worry, you'll enjoy it. Trust me," I told him, seeing the same mischievous gleam in his eyes that must have been in mine.

For the first half hour of the movie, nothing happened. Sarah cuddled with Leslie, I curled up with Andrew's arm around me (a position I was still a little uncomfortable admitting I enjoyed, though it was growing easier,) and Ruby continued to hold Jules in a death grip, slowly pulling herself up until her head was on his shoulder while he sat rigidly on one corner of the couch, a deer caught in the headlights expression on his face.

The next step of the plan was the one Sarah was looking forward to, and while I was nervous, it would both work toward our goals and give me a better idea of exactly how comfortable I really felt with Andrew. I knew Ruby was as nervous about it as I was, but if all went to plan, she would have her revenge on Jules as well without having to go too far out of her comfort zone. I hoped.

Sarah made her move, and inched up Leslie's body, bringing his face down to hers in a deep kiss and holding it for as long as she could. Letting go long enough to take a breath, she then dived back in. For Leslie's part he was only shocked for a moment before getting into it himself, kissing her back just as passionately and with a grin growing on what was visible of his lips as he did.

I looked up from watching them to see Andrew looking at me intensely. I knew he had seen me watching them, and I knew that he was wondering what would happen next. My palms were sweaty, but I fought down my nervousness as I mimicked Sarah's movements, pulling myself up and kissing him gently. It might not have had the passion that she had shared with Leslie, but I could feel the heat growing in his face as he kissed me back. I wasn't sure I was ready for a full-blown makeout session yet, but a little kissing wasn't about to hurt me, and I knew Andrew wouldn't object. Besides, I owed him that much for putting up with all my crap over the last few months.

"Hey, what's going on herRMMPH!"

And that, I thought to myself as I smiled while keeping Andrew in a soft liplock, would be Ruby giving Jules the same treatment we were giving our boyfriends.

Time kind of got away from me after that, and I will admit to enjoying my close-up time with Andrew quite a bit more than I had been expecting. We never moved beyond light kissing, and him rubbing my shoulders, but it gave me a light-headed feeling I hadn't expected. When we finally broke away, I was less than surprised to see Ruby sitting quietly with her arm still wrapped around Jules' waist, a smug look on her face and an expression on his that could only be described as pure unadulterated embarrassment, the red seeping down his neck and reappearing on the upper part of his arms, his skin practically glowing.

When she saw me watching, Ruby pointed to Jules' mouth before pinching her nose with a grimace. Then she chuckled and gave me a thumbs up, turning back to the movie.

-18-

"You can't be serious."

I groaned. "We thought it was funny at the time."

Amos grinned, nodding. "Oh, it is, but I can tell you now, the three of you are gonna be paying for that for the next two years."

I groaned again, and Amos laughed at my discomfort.

"I don't see what the big deal is, it was just a joke! We even said so after the movie was over. He said it was okay, and went to bed, but ever since he's given me the death glare every time I've been near him."

Amos's grin disappeared. "Oh. Yeah. Well, he deserved it, but there's a reason for that."

"This isn't going to leave me feeling like a dirtbag for the joke, is it?"

"I hope not, it was a good joke."

"*sigh* Alright, spill."

"Jules sees the entire Princess thing as one big joke where he can push the limits of what the school is comfortable with without getting in trouble with it."

"Yeah, I know that much."

"The thing is, he kinda assumes that everyone else does too."

I shrugged. "I can't speak for everyone, but it's a bit different for me, and for Sarah."

"Yeah, but ya'll are girls."

"I..." I changed my mind on speaking. Now wasn't the time to correct him, and I wanted to hear where he was going. "Go on."

"Jules likes to mess with all the guys around here when he's dressed as a Princess, but as far as I know Jules is completely straight. My guess is that he brought along Ruby hoping to mess with you and Sarah, and probably her too, because he thought that like him you would all think of Ruby as a guy."

I shook my head. "Ruby's... Ruby. I don't think even she knows what she wants yet."

Amos smirked and rolled his eyes. "Well, Jules sees her as a guy, and when she kissed him I'm betting his brain was telling him 'guy' while his eyes said 'cute girl' and he didn't know what to do with everything. You made him question his sexuality. Any guy would take that rough."

I stared at Amos, a new appreciation for his intelligence growing inside me. "How do you know so much about Jules?"

He laughed, a deep, happy sound. For all his insecurities about his voice when dressed as Amanda, Amos's voice was always a joy to listen to when he spoke, with a rich Morgan Freeman-like tone. "We've shared a bathroom for the last two years. You learn a lot about a guy when you share a makeup mirror with him."

So I had hit Jules a bit harder than I had wanted to with my little joke. Well, not so little I guess, given how much it had affected him.

"So what's on the paper?" Amos asked when I had gone silent. It was a question I really didn't want to answer.

"Uhm, nothing."

"Come on, I shared with you about Jules."

"Urgh, alright," I said, reluctantly handing him the sheet that had sealed my doom.

He looked at it, and began to read. And read. And chuckle. And finally start laughing again, just as happily as before, though now I found it much less appealing.

"It's not funny!"

"Hahah! Yeah, it is, and just the kind of abuse of power Jules would use for revenge."

I pouted as I picked the page up and read it again, wondering why things like this always ended up falling into my lap.

Dear Reader:
You have been selected as the school's official representative for the Princess Program in the Persistence Saint Patrick's Day Parade.
As per your contract through the school for your services as a Princess, you shall receive standard rates for your service on this day despite its holiday status for all other school-sponsored student employment programs.
Your responsibilities as representative will include, but are not limited to:
---Helping to design the school's float.
---Participation in the Persistence Saint Patrick's Day Parade as part of the float's occupants.
---Serving as hostess at the school's booth at the Persistence Saint Patrick's Day Fair.
We thank you for your cooperation in this matter, and expect you to serve well in the honor of representing our school.

It wasn't a long letter, but it made it quite clear to me who had won this round.

"You win this time, Jules," I said under my breath, as I began to contemplate some way to get the upper hand again.

(End of Part 6)

NOTES:
Well, I hope people enjoy this chapter! The end bit (concerning the parade) wasn't something I originally planned, but I began to realize as I wrote the story that I hadn't really planned for any costumes this semester! For those who liked the cosplay/costumes element of the first book, this is my attempt to bring some of that back this semester.

So, any ideas on what kind of dress she should wear? Leave comments/pictures/ideas! Let me know!

Melanie E.

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

A Princess To The Rescue!

-----

(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.

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Part 8: The Littlest Princess

-----

-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.)

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Part 9: A Princess At Odds

-----

-25-

It's funny how something can be right there in front of you, staring you in the face, and you can still ignore it somehow until someone points it out.

That was the way it was with me and Swift's reactions to me. I had gone through the last two months oblivious to the fact that he had stopped glaring at me, at least any more than any other student, or trying to disrupt activities that pulled me out of his class.

In fact, if it hadn't been for the muffled comment of "teacher's pet," I heard one day after class, I would have continued on oblivious to his actions.

Had he really been treating me differently since I had begun to dress as a girl full-time?

Yes. He had, and though that fact should have made me happy, instead it disturbed me, not the least of reasons was because of his lack of support for the school's new Gay Straight Alliance.

Stewart's information was seeming more and more at odds with the person who Professor Swift showed to the school. How could he be so blase' about something that this mysterious background said should be important to him? Why did he treat the Princesses so cruelly? It had only been a couple of days since I had seen him chewing out Brittany on a Princess day for forgetting to keep her legs closed in class. She had almost been in tears afterward, and he had done it right in the middle of the hallway!

I had to do something soon.

"Mrs. Henderson, could you please go to the Headmaster's office?"

And what could this be about?

---

"Mr. Uchiha?"

"Yes, Becky, come in."

Mr. Uchiha's face was grim as I walked into his office. Gone were the laugh lines I had always thought were a permanent feature of his, and his glasses sat next to a bottle of aspirin. I had grown used to seeing a volume of manga open next to him any time I saw him at his desk, but today his keyboard had been shoved aside and its mahogany surface was covered with folders and paperwork. When he looked up at me, his eyes were red from strain.

"Sir?" I asked, on guard in case I were about to get in trouble.

"Ah, yes. Thank you for coming at such short notice," he said, trying to smile for my benefit, though it never reached his eyes. "Please, have a seat."

I sat down carefully in one of the wooden seats across from him. "Sir," I asked quietly, "did I do something wrong?" It had been weeks since I had stopped working on the float, so I was desperately hoping nothing had happened there the boys were trying to pin on me. I didn't think I'd caused any permanent damage.

"What?" Shock seemed to cross his features before he visibly relaxed, a soft laugh bubbling up from him. "Oh, no, nothing like that," he said, and this time his smile made it all the way to his temples. "No, this is something... something else. Something I know you've been working on, and I need your help with."

Somehow I instantly knew what he was talking about. "Professor Swift."

"Indeed," he said, the tension returning to his face in a rush. He seemed to hesitate for a second before continuing on. "I have been trying to avoid this for over two years, but it seems that despite my repeated attempts to get him to straighten up Ronnie is still dead set on acting out his own agenda on the student body." He looked at me, as though expecting confirmation that I understood so far, so I nodded. "The fact of the matter is, I know that Ronnie -- Professor Swift -- is a good guy at heart. He is," he said to my unwitting snort. "If it had been anyone else they would have already been fired, but I've known him for so long... you know who Kelly Brice is, I'm assuming?"

"I've read some articles by them, yes," I answered, trying to stay neutral on what I knew.

"Then you know that his actions and his words are at odds with each other. I'm not going to get into why, because it's not my story to tell, but unless we can fix that I've got a list of people waiting to take his job." After saying those words, Mr. Uchiha gave me a meaningful look. It didn't take a genius to get what he was trying to say.

"Why are you telling me all this, sir?"

"Because I want you to help me save his job."

"...Do I have to?"

Mr. Uchiha gave me another honest smile.

-26-

There was nothing I could do to make this any easier, I told myself as I stood outside the Professor's office door. I had been standing there for what felt like an eternity, trying to work up the courage to knock, or to call out to him, but my nerve never seemed to come.

Now or never, Becky, now or never.

*Knock knock knock*

"It's open," came the stressed and angry voice from the other side.

For the briefest of moments I wished I had grabbed Andrew or Leslie or someone to come with me. The last thing I wanted to do with my day was to have to face down one of my teachers, let alone Professor Swift. And yet, here I was. With one last breath to steady myself, I pushed the door open and walked into his office.

Professor Swift's office was a huge surprise. I'm not sure what I had expected, exactly, but the wild swirl of papers and books covering every free surface was not it. A decrepit laptop sat on top of the desk, and behind it sat Professor Swift himself, glaring at the screen while furiously writing on a legal pad.

“Sir?” I almost whispered, a little afraid of what would happen if he turned that same vicious concentration on me.

“What is it you--” he began, with the acid tone he normally used on the princesses, but stopped when he saw it was me. “Yes, Becky. What is it?” He said instead, in what was far from being a kind tone of voice but was still far better than his usual attitude.

We stared at one another in silence for a few seconds. The professor was obviously impatient to get back to whatever he was doing, and I could see the frustration building in his face as I continued to stand there doing and saying nothing, but I was too busy trying to reconcile the man before me with the person who's articles I had read.

Where was that person now?

I could almost feel the lightbulb going off over my head as I figured out how I was going to tackle my project.

“I just had a few questions, sir.”

“Well?”

I swallowed the lump that was trying to crawl up my throat and straightened my back. “It's about this civil rights journalist I've been reading. Kelly Brice?” I said as innocently as I could, shifting my eyes away from him and to the floor, but not fast enough to miss the color draining from his face at the name. I swallowed again, then forced myself to continue. “I've been reading a lot of their stuff, and it's all really good! And they obviously care a lot about people who are, umm, different?”

Professor Swift's hands began to shake as he stood up from his desk, the confident sneer and the vicious scowls I, and every other student, associated with him long gone from his face. “I think you need to leave, Miss Henderson.”

“But--”

“NOW!” He bellowed, slamming his hands down on his desk hard enough to send the antique green glass lamp that had been sitting on the corner crashing to the ground, shattering.

I let out a shocked gasp as I stepped back, surprised and afraid at the violence of his reaction. Then another emotion overwhelmed me instead, one that drove the other two far back in my mind.

Anger.

“No!”

“I SAID--”

“SHUT UP!” I screamed, seeing through the haze of my anger the same surprise I had experienced at his earlier outburst echoed on his own face. “I'm not leaving until you tell me what the hell your problem is!”

“Excuse me, girl, but you have no right to demand anything of me,” he said, obviously fighting to remain in control as he circled around his desk to stand face to face with me. “I owe no one any explanations, especially not some nosy little...” he stopped himself with a hand to his chest. “What do you think gives you the right to talk to me like this?!”

I could tell from the gleam in his eyes he was hoping to intimidate me into backing down, but there was no way. I'd seen him hurt my friends too many times, and seen the results of letting him keep doing things his way. I glared right back at him, standing as tall and straight as I could, then said the words I hoped would put him in his place. “I'm trying to save your job, you jerk!”

Professor Swift started to say something, then stopped. His mouth still hanging open he took a step back, bumping into his desk and knocking a paperweight off this time, though luckily it remained intact.

“I don't even know why I'm bothering,” I continued, taking a step forward and poking him in the chest. “You've been a cruel, malicious bully. So you're Kelly Brice too, big deal: all the writing in the world doesn't stop you from being the least accepting, most narrow-minded asshole in the school. Why Mr. Uchiha wants you to stay I'll never know, but he ASKED me to talk to you,” I finished, putting as much venom into my words as I could. Seeing I had him pinned against his desk with a look of bewilderment on his face I backed off, then gave an unlady-like snort. “Forget it, get fired for all I care,” I said, turning away from where he was frozen in place and starting for the door.

“Stop right there.”

“Why?” I asked, resting my hand on the door handle but not opening it.

“You want to talk? Fine,” he said in a defeated tone. I heard a scraping sound, and when I turned back around he was cleaning the papers out of one of the leather chairs that had been pushed against the wall. “Sit,” he ordered me quietly, starting to walk back around his desk but then instead pushing another pile of papers from another chair and sitting down across from the first one he had emptied.

I was still angry, almost as angry as I had ever been, but....

Mr. Uchiha wanted him here. Mr. Uchiha had asked me to talk to him. And, what the hell, Mr. Uchiha was paying me for this.

I sat down in the chair he had prepared for me, smoothing my skirt under me as I did so and hoping that papers were the only thing that had been left in the seat. “Fine,” I said petulantly, crossing my arms over my chest and managing to almost completely ignore the reminder I had breasts.

“Why would the headmaster send a student to talk to me about this instead of coming himself?” Professor Swift asked me, staring intently into my face.

I gave a shrug in answer, but when I saw the old sneer begin to return I decided to give him a bit more. “I'm not entirely sure. I think it has something to do with keeping things unofficial.” I gave him a long look of my own, not bothering to try and hide my unhappiness. “He said you used to be a good teacher, until the princess program started up, and that that's when you turned evil.”

“Evil?!”

I glared at him. “What would you call outing a student to bullies, or punishing students for doing what they're supposed to? If you're Kelly Brice, then why do you hate the Princesses so much?”

Swift wrung his hands as he began to mutter through gritted teeth. “Why do I hate the Princesses? I don't hate them. I hate what they stand for!”

“What?”

“It's a mockery!” He bellowed, slamming his palms into the armrests of his chair. “It's a drag show for the amusement of the boys. It's disrespectful to those who truly have gender issues, and makes a laughingstock of the school's history of tolerance and acceptance!”

I shook my head. “The only one making a laughingstock of the school is you!” I yelled back, barely holding myself back from standing up so I could look down on him. “We've done nothing wrong!”

“You and Sarah are different,” he said with a negligent wave of his hand. “The two of you see some benefit from the program, I'll admit, but the others? Mr. Stone, for example, going out of his way to tease and show off whenever he can. It's people like him who cause the trans community so much trouble!”

“And what about outing Stew? All he did was write a paper, and you made him the biggest target in the school!”

“He presumed to understand what being trans means, all because he is gay. They don't understand, none of them understand what we have to deal with! He deserved what he got!”

“Nobody DESERVES that!” I screamed, fed up with the man before me. Before I knew what I was doing I had stood up and had my hand raised to smack the professor, when something else he had said struck me. Wait a minute... “We?”

Through my anger I had failed to see Professor Swift's own emotions shifting, but when I looked down now, my hand still raised in the air, I saw that his head was hung low, and I could hear sobbing.

No way. I can't deal with this. This isn't my job to....

But I was the only one there.

“Professor?”

No response, just more sobbing.

“Professor?” I asked again, putting my hand on his shoulder. He still didn't answer.

Of all the emotions I had expected to feel during my encounter with Professor Swift, pity had never been among them. Still, my anger still lingered, and I had to say my piece.

“I don't know what's going on for you,” I said, taking my seat and looking on as Swift continued to sob. “But, geez, listen to yourself! Is that really what you think of what we've been doing? I don't think Mr. Uchiha would have ever allowed the program to go as long as it has if he thought like you do. And no matter what you say, you did the absolute worst thing possible to Stew, and he didn't deserve it. How can you talk about acceptance then turn around and do that to someone?!”

“I....”

I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down.

“You're right.”

My eyes snapped open. Had Professor Swift just said what I thought he did?

The man looking back at me now was not the same professor I had entered the room to talk to. Instead of the cruel, angry face I'd come to recognize I saw someone who was broken, and hurting. “I'm sorry,” he said, looking to me for forgiveness.

I shook my head. “I'm not the one you need to say that to.”

A spark of the anger I had grown to expect from him returned, but just as quickly it disappeared. With a defeated expression on his face Professor Swift nodded. “You should go back to your dorm. I need to talk to the headmaster.”

I stood up, unsure of what to say, and started to walk toward the door when I paused. “Professor Swift?”

“Yes?”

“Good luck.”

I didn't wait for an answer, but closed the rest of the distance between me and the door as quickly as I could, and left the room.

-27-

Why me?

That was the thought that ran through my head over and over as I sat in my room, waiting for dinner time to roll around. After dinner I had a mini-date with Andrew, all part of our whole “getting to know you again” period after my immense foul-up, but until then I had plenty of time to sulk and feel put-upon by the world around me.

What would happen to Professor Swift? I hoped Mr. Uchiha would be happy with how I'd managed things, though I found it doubtful that he would approve of me yelling at Ol' Swifty like I had. What could he do, though, give me detention? I was there on his behalf, so I had leverage if he tried to punish me for how I had handled the situation, not that that helped me feel any better about what had happened. Instead, my mind kept going back to the things Swift had said, and how vehemently he had defended his position at first.

He had said “we.”

What did that make Professor Swift? Did he want to be a woman? I was unsure of how to interpret what he had said. Being a Princess and, more importantly, Sarah's best friend, I had started to have more and more exposure to information about being transgendered, so I knew that there was a whole lot more than just the two extremes of boy and girl going on with things. Heck, most people would say I was proof of that, and as much as I wanted to argue there was little point, not in this skirt anyhow.

Still, he said “we.”

Whatever his situation, he obviously felt that I fell into something of the same boat. Was that why Mr. Uchiha had sent me to talk to him? Did he know that Professor Swift would rather be a Rhonda than a Ronald? Surely not. Then again, Mr. Uchiha seemed to be pretty good at knowing everyone at the school, and he had known about all the Kelly Brice stuff too, so maybe?

It was all too much, and more than I wanted to deal with. I may have been smart enough to get into a private school on scholarship, but I was still only fourteen.

I heard a commotion in the hallway, and nearly jumped out of my skin when someone began pounding on my door excitedly.

“BeckyBeckyBecky!” Sarah's muffled voice came through the woodwork, followed by more pounding. With a groan I got off my bed, straightened my skirt, and checked my hair in my mirror before finally unlocking and opening the door just as she began to try and knock again, nearly tripping into my room in the process.

“Becky!” She said again when she regained her feet, grinning widely at me and oblivious to her near disaster. “You'll never guess what just happened!”

“You're right,” I said with a grin of my own, feeling her bright mood begin to pull me out of my funk. “What's up?”

“Swifty just resigned!”

“What?!”

“Really!” She said, mistaking my look of shock for one of disbelief. “Winston said he saw him collecting his personal stuff from his office, and when he asked around one of the seniors told him Swift was leaving the school!”

“Oh. Wow,” I said, trying my best to stay calm while on the inside I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide away.

Mr. Uchiha had asked me to help him save Professor Swift's job, and instead I'd driven him away.

“Becky? Are you okay?” Sarah asked, not waiting for an answer before she wrapped me in a hug. “What's wrong?”

I couldn't tell her what had gone down between me and the Professor. It was too personal, and even after everything he had done it would not be right. Instead, I grabbed my stomach and twisted my frown into a grimace. “Nothing, just hungry is all.”

“...Okay,” Sarah said quietly, giving me some space. I knew she could see through my lie, but until I could figure out how I felt about what had happened I thought it wise not to talk to anyone about it.

Swift was gone, and everyone else was happy about that.

So... why wasn't I?

-=-

(End of Part 9)

Well, if THIS hasn't been a long time coming!

Yesterday I figured if re-reading The Right Hand of the Devil had been enough to inspire me to work on it and finish it, then maybe the same could be true of PFH! And, whaddaya know, it's working! Naturally this isn't the very end, but this is the beginning of it, if that makes sense.

Two more parts. Six more chapters. That's it, and the story will draw to a close. And I'll be starting writing them as soon as I post this. I had considered waiting until I had all three finished, then posting them all at once, but then the greedy needy side of me told me "hey, you'll get more comments if you post 'em separately!" So, here we are.

Unproofed, unedited, with the exception of the fact that, per Jill's suggestion (thankew!) chapter 26 is completely different than I'd originally written it.

As always, lemme know what y'all think, and IF YOU COMMENT, MORE WILL COME. Hopefully soon!

Love y'all!

Melanie E.

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.

Princess For Hire: The Second Semester
By Melanie E.

Part 11: A Princess Goes Home

This part is dedicated to the memory of Wren Phoenix, Edeyn Blackeney, and Stanman. All three were very supportive of the story, and I'm incredibly sorry that they are not here to celebrate its completion with us.

-31-

The last day before a major break starts is always a hectic one. What do you take with you? What do you leave?

For me, that question had another layer: do I pack for Becky, or for Beck?

It was the day before spring break, and there were no classes for the day, since Kingston Academy wanted to make sure every one of us students had time to prepare for being gone. When I had first come to the school I had figured on spending most of my breaks except for summer vacation on campus, to save money and because I just wasn't sure exactly how good a relationship I would have with my dad after how long we had been separated from one another. Thanks to being a Princess, though, a lot of opportunities had opened up to me. Sarah had offered to let me hang out with her over the break, but I opted instead to pay for plane tickets out of my own pocket to visit my dad. There was a limit on how many days the program would pay you for dressing as a Princess per week, I had been a little let down to find out (though not surprised,) but even at that I had made plenty of money to afford the round trip.

I had offered to pay for Dad a ticket to come get me, but he insisted on taking care of at least that.

I'd had the tickets for a couple of weeks, but like any teenager I'd waited until the last minute to start any packing for the week and a half I'd be gone. Now it was less than three hours before Dad would arrive to pick me up, and I had... nothing.

Why nothing?

Being a Princess full-time had so far worked wonders for my school life. Without the issue of whether I was a guy or a girl getting in the way I was having a lot easier time dealing with all my fellow students, and for the first time I could remember my wardrobe consisted of more than just hand-me-downs that were a good three sizes too big for me.

Of course, almost all of those clothes were girl's clothes, and that was only where my problems began.

Jeans and tee shirts I could probably get by with either way, Beck or Becky, but I'd been spending so much time in Princess-mode that even the girly options for those were in short supply. Plus, it was starting to warm up, and warmer weather meant shorts, which I had none of at all. I could sacrifice my two pairs of boy's jeans to the god of cutoffs – they were frayed and ragged enough that if anything it would make them look better – but that was only a stop-gap measure. I could buy clothes when I got to my dad's, too, and that was the option I was looking at the most.

But boy's clothes, or girl's clothes?

It was all such a confusing mess, and no small part of that was the constant battle inside my own head to understand why I let the clothes matter in the first place.

Frustrated, I left my still-empty duffel bag on my bed and slipped on a pair of shoes. Maybe a walk would do me some good.

Walking around campus I couldn't help but admire the new life spring was bringing to the surface all around me. After months of cold weather, brown grass and even browner trees, the fresh buds sprouting from everything were a sight to behold. There were dogwoods spotted throughout the campus grounds, in lots of different colors, and the gardeners had already started preparing flower beds and trimming bushes. Even the sight of the second dorm hall's half-finished construction off in the distance did little to detract from what was a beautiful place to walk around and lose yourself in, and it wasn't long before I found my thoughts drifting away from the confusion and problems with my situation and, instead, on to some of the good things.

It was nice to have friends. Sarah, of course, Leslie too, and even Ruby. There were the rest of the princesses, too, and all of us had a special connection that the rest of the students didn't – couldn't – understand. Even Stew had warmed up to me more since the whole GSA thing, and I had been surprised to see him walking around the other day holding hands with a guy who looked suspiciously like Jules' escort to the alumni banquet so many weeks ago. I didn't see Bobby much, but every time I did he made sure to talk to me a little, so I was pretty sure that we were cool again after everything that happened with Andrew.

Andrew.

As much as things between me and Andrew still continued to confuse me, I had to admit that I liked him. A lot. If you had told me at the start of the year that I would have a boyfriend, or that I'd actually be upset by the idea of not seeing him over spring break, then... okay, I probably wouldn't have laughed in your face or anything, but it would have been a really hard sell. Now, though....

I'd had plenty of time over the last couple of weeks to think about Jules' warning about not breaking Andrew's heart. I knew he had his brother's best interest in mind, but the more I thought about it the more it pissed me off. For one thing, it was none of Jules' business, and for another, he seemed to think that boy or girl me mattered. Just to prove it didn't, I did something I never thought I'd have the nerve to do.

I straight up asked Andrew.

Sure, he had said when we had started “pretend” dating that it didn't matter to him, but having him say it again, with full conviction, had been a relief. What's more, I believed him, and more than that, I knew in my heart of hearts that it wouldn't make a difference to me either.

I was no longer embarrassed to say that, whether it made either one of us gay, straight, bi, or something else entirely, I liked Andrew. Not “liked him like a boy likes another boy” or “liked him like a girl likes a boy,” if there's even a difference. I liked him, full stop. I liked walking around with him, arm in arm, or arms around each other's waists. I liked his laugh, I liked his personality, I liked the smell of the cologne he always wore, even if he tried to claim he didn't.

I liked kissing him.

Even with nobody else around thinking about kissing Andrew caused a blush to rise in my cheeks. Sure, we had done it a few times here and there before I went and punched him, but the ones since we got back together, since I'd finally started to realize how much I cared for him, had been so much... more.

I'd miss Sarah over spring break. She was becoming more and more like a sister to me, and had pretty much taken over Leslie's job as Princess big sister too. I'd miss Leslie and the others, too. But, I'd miss Andrew more than any of them.

If spring break was messing with me this badly, I had no idea how I'd handle summer vacation when THAT rolled around.

“Becky? Miss Henderson, there you are!” I heard someone calling to me from down the path behind me.

“Mr. Cooper? What's wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing. The headmaster asked me to fetch you from your dorm, but when you weren't there some of the other students told me you were out here taking a walk. Shouldn't you be packing young lady?”

“Umm, yeah. I just needed some air.”

“Ah. Well, if you could head to Mr. Uchiha's office before you leave he would like to have a word with you. And might I say you look very nice today,” Mr. Cooper said with a kind smile, reminding me why he was one of my favorite teachers.

I couldn't help but laugh. “Thank you, sir. I'll head there straight away.”

“Good girl.”

Mr. Cooper turned around and started heading back down the path the way he had come, leaving me to find my own way to Mr. Uchiha's office, wondering all the way what it could be he wanted to talk to me about.

-32-

Mr. Uchiha's secretary was nowhere to be found when I reached his office, doubtless already off to enjoy the school's spring break in their own way, but the headmaster's inner office door was wide open, and I could hear him typing away at a keyboard inside.

“Mr. Uchiha?”

“Miss Henderson! Please, do come in.”

The last time I had been in Mr. Uchiha's office he had been stressed and frazzled, and even though I had been trying to find an opportunity to talk to him again since the incident with Professor Swift the two of us had never seemed to catch each other at a good time. Now, though, I could instantly see how much more relaxed Mr. Uchiha was than the last time we had talked, and he gave me a happy smile as soon as I stepped through his door.

“I'm glad you made it. I've been meaning to talk to you for some time. How are your classes going?”

“Good,” I said, taking one of the seats across from his desk and sinking into its softness. “I was expecting more trouble, to be honest.”

“Your records show you're maintaining a 3.8 average. I'm very proud of that, as is your father. He's been calling the school every couple of weeks to keep up with what's going on with you. You should be proud to have such a caring father.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, unable to keep a grin from spreading across my face at the news. We'd talked to each other at least once a week since Christmas break, but I had been unaware he had been calling the school too.

“How has your extra study period been? I have a temporary replacement coming in after spring break until the Professor returns, but I'm sure you and your classmates haven't suffered too much in the class's absence?”

I started to shake my head, then froze. Had he just said what I thought he had said? “Professor Swift is returning?”

Mr. Uchiha nodded. “I understand there have been rumors circulating that he has quit. Given his reputation with the student body at the moment and the uncertain nature of his return I thought it prudent not to argue. He is, in fact, on a temporary leave of absence. With any luck he will be back at the beginning of next year a changed man, and it's all thanks to you.” Mr. Uchiha was smiling at me, obviously happy with the outcome of our bit of sneakiness, though I was still confused.

“I thought I'd driven him off,” I admitted, keeping my eyes pointed down toward the floor.

“No, you didn't drive him off, though you did embarrass him.”

“Oh. Umm... sorry?”

Mr. Uchiha laughed, shaking his head. “Don't be. I have confidence in the professor's ability to teach, but he most certainly needed to be taken down a peg or two. With any luck he will return with a better outlook on life. For now our sister school has agreed to lend us one of their teachers to fill his place.”

Now I was even more confused. “Sister school?”

“Of course! Silver Valley Academy for Girls. Didn't you know?”

“I had no idea, sir.”

He nodded. “Most students don't, though I expect that to change in a couple of years when we start an exchange program of sorts. No worries, bringing in female students will have no effect on the Princess program, unless it's to strengthen it.”

“How?” I asked, now genuinely curious.

“The Princesses will be our first exchange students, only for a few weeks. In exchange, they will send over a handful of their Princes for us to host during the same time.”

“Princes. You mean....”

“You didn't think we could truly promote equality and acceptance just with one side of the gender divide, did you?” He asked. I started to ask another question, but Mr. Uchiha waved me off and said nothing more, but gave me a knowing look.

-33-

I returned to my room, going over my new knowledge of the inner workings of Kingston in my head and still not being able to straighten any of it out. The fact that Kingston had a sister school just for girls made me wonder why Sarah had never transferred there, until it occurred to me that if I hadn't known about it it was entirely possible that Sarah didn't, either. I had my hand on the knob of my own door when I changed my mind and went down one more doorway, knocking on Sarah's door instead.

“The door's open,” she said, and when she saw me open the door Sarah immediately rushed over and wrapped me in a hug. “Becky! You sure you don't want to just skip visiting your dad and come home with me?” She asked wth a puppy-dog pout that only months ago would have broken my will almost immediately. I had since grown immune to the look, though, perhaps from over-exposure.

“Hah! I think not. This'll be the first time I've ever seen my dad's place, and I'm looking forward to it.”

“Alright then. But if you change your mind....”

“You're on my speed dial,” I told her with a grin, giving her another quick squeeze. “That's not why I came over here, though.”

“Ulterior motives, huh? Spill.”

“Did you know Kingston had a sister school?”

Sarah nodded, turning back to her own packing. “Yep. Silver Valley. Doesn't everyone?”

“I didn't.”

“Oh. And now you're wondering...” she trailed off, obviously slightly uncomfortable.

“Umm, yeah. Why didn't you transfer?”

Sarah sighed, turning around and plopping down on top of a pile of clothes and giving me a wary look. “Promise you won't laugh at me?”

“Of course!” I said without a pause, holding my pinky out to her as a reminder of Thanksgiving break. She smiled at that and linked pinkies with me. When she let go she fell back on her bed with another sigh.

“It's too far away. They don't go into Persistence on their breaks, because they're on the other side of the state, so it would be harder for me to see my family, a LOT harder. Plus, silly as it is, Kingston Academy looks better on your transcripts, despite both schools scoring nearly identically on most tests. Besides, Leslie's here,” she admitted with a blush, and I had to giggle at her.

“Okay, I was just curious.”

“Why?” She asked, sitting back up. “You thinking about transferring next semester?” Her voice had a note of worry in it.

“What? No! I only just found out about the school, and I was curious. And why would I transfer anyway?”

Sarah shrugged, but gave me a look that clearly said I should know why.

“Sarah....”

“Becky, I know what you're about to say. You're not like me. You're right. But.”

“But what?” I asked, honestly curious about what she was about to say.

“But... I think you might be. Eventually. Maybe. I don't know,” she groaned, collapsing back on the bed again. “Just... if you are, promise you won't leave me alone here, alright?”

I shook my head, laughing. “You're the one who's graduating next year, not me.”

“True!” She said with a giggle.

I left Sarah alone after that, heading back to my own room to contemplate my luggage again.

Okay, so I wasn't the only one confused by everything going on. I didn't know about what Sarah had said, about me maybe not being like her now but that changing in the future.

I mean, how could I change who I was?

Then again... would it really be a change?

Thinking back over everything that had happened since arriving at the school, I realized that things had been adding up to prove to me that I wasn't stuck having to be either a boy or girl. Sure, everyone thought I was a girl, but if I had been too worried about that a hair cut and some acting lessons could have stopped it. Instead, I'd stuck with the argument that no matter how I was dressed I was the same person.

Was that person a guy or a girl?

Did it really matter?

A grin began to spread across my face as I started packing with a sense of determination.

No, I didn't have an answer to any of my questions. I'd only been doing the whole girl thing for a few months, after all. What I did have was the opportunity to decide, an opportunity most people never had.

Regardless of what I chose, I had friends. I had a boyfriend who liked me. Sure, we might drift apart, but that wouldn't be because of me choosing to be a boy or a girl. I had a job that paid me well for doing next to nothing most of the time, and I had a school I was growing to love.

Would I be a boy next year? A girl? What about in the long run? I had no idea. I knew about what would happen when spring break was over – I was already committed there – but as to the rest of my life, that was a long way away. Why should I rush a decision?

“I'll find out soon enough,” I said out loud, zipping up my duffel bag and dropping it next to my knapsack at the foot of the bed.

For the first time all year, it was a liberating phrase instead of a confusing one.

(End of Part 11)

(The End of Princess For Hire: The Second Semester)

---

Welp, that's all folks! I hope everyone is happy with the way the story turned out. I know a lot of people were hoping for an ending that defined who Beck/y would be for the rest of their life, but really, s/he's fourteen years old, going on fifteen. There's all the time in the world to come to a decision, and no better place to take the chance to learn what that decision should be than Kingston Academy.

Now that the base story is complete, be sure to give me overall opinions about events in the comments. I read every comment, even if I don't respond to every one, and I have taken user response into consideration up to this point, and will take it even further as I work on editing the story for e-publication.

Also, now that the story is complete, I'm seriously considering opening the universe to other writers. Kingston Academy is ripe for the expansion of the current cast, or even the creation of new students! Since I started writing the story every student at the school would have graduated by now, so if anyone wishes to start working on an incoming class of 2014/2015, just let me know if you're interested! Plus, with the inclusion of the sister school in the mix now (I had the idea, and I just had to add it, sorry!) that opens the gates for even more adventures!

This has been quite a journey, hasn't it?

Kingston Academy Shorts

#1: The Laundry Incident

By Melanie E.

For Julian Stone, signing up to be a Princess has been a stone gas. But when a simple prank goes horribly wrong, is this Princess man enough to own up?

-==-

It was cruel.

It was diabolical.

It was... absolutely... perfect.

"Muahahahaha," I chuckled, in my best Evil Mastermind laugh. I had spent years practicing it, and it was getting pretty good, if I do say so myself.

If anything deserved an Evil Mastermind laugh, it was this. I opened the bag and peeked at what was inside, then gave Robert a raised eyebrow. "Kinky."

"Hey, it's what you asked for. If anyone asks, though--"

"You were never here, we never spoke, and no money exchanged hands," I said, rolling my eyes. It wasn't the first time I'd used Robert as the middle man to get materials for one of my pranks, and I was used to his paranoia.

He sneered down at the bag he'd handed me, not entirely able to hide the blush that was creeping into his cheeks. "Wouldn't that have been easier for you to pick up anyway?"

"Who, me?" I asked in false innocense, putting a hand on my breastbone. "Not really," I followed in a more normal tone. "People get suspicious when I pick up anything out of the ordinary."

Robert snorted at that, but as he turned around and walked away I just barely heard him say "I can't imagine why!"

I idly considered what kind of prank I could play on him in the future, but for only a moment. After all, I had far more entertaining Evil to perpetrate.

-==-

"You sure about this Jules?"

"Yes I'm sure! Or do you not want the fifty bucks?"

"No! I want it! It's just...."

"Just what?"

"Why?"

Grrrr. Why do people have to question my plans anyway, when blind obedience is so much easier? "Because," I said into my phone, "she's the newbie, and the newbie gets pranked. Plus I'm not sure what's going on between her and my brother, and it's kinda creeping me out."

"So you're gonna--"

"YES. Now, are you in or not?"

"...Fine."

"Good," I confirmed before hanging up. This was turning into a singularly expensive prank, but I was certain the outcome would be wonderfully and hilariously gratifying. Using middle-men would keep things from getting linked back to me easily, and if everything went well the looks on Becky's face for weeks to come would be priceless.

-==-

The call had finally come in letting me know it was time to act, and I was more than ready. Just one phone call to make, and everything would be set. I took a deep breath before dialing the number for the laundry room, spending the time between rings wondering impatiently why Beck didn't have a cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Becky?" I asked, fighting back a snerk at the frustrated sigh from the other end. "Hey, this is Jules. Can you come up to my room for a moment?"

"I'm kinda in the middle of laundry. Can it wait?"

"It won't take a moment. Please?"

"I, ah... alright. Be right up."

"Great, thanks."

As soon as the line went dead I switched over to my texting screen and sent the message. Any time now....

*knockknockknock*

I opened the door to find an annoyed-looking Beck glaring at me, arms crossed and hip cocked. How does this kid think she even vaguely looks like a guy? I mean, even in scruffy jeans and a baggy tee I couldn't see anything but a Becky in front of me.

"You wanted me?"

"YES! Come in for a sec. You're in Johnson's first period American Lit class, right?" I didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "I have it third period, and I was wondering if you could help me out a bit?"

On the one hand, it was a valid distraction. On the other, American Lit was not and never would be my strongest subject, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

"Alright, I guess. What's the problem?"

"Well, we're reading 'To Kill a Mockingbird,' and it's just...."

With that, the conversation was off. I was surprised at how good Beck actually was, she'd obviously spent a lot of time reading and had a great comprehension of the book -- way better than mine at least. Beck was thoroughly distracted from even thinking about her laundry, and for the briefest of moments I felt a twinge of regret over what I was planning to put her through. Maybe I shouldn't have gone so far to prank her after all?

The more we worked the more guilty I felt, until finally I couldn't handle it any more. "Beck?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to--"

*BZZZZBZZZZBZZZZ*

"I think you have a text."

"Damnit!" I said, picking up my phone. As soon as I saw the message on my screen, though, my anger vanished, and I froze.

"What's wrong?"

Then the fire alarm went off.

-==-

"Mister Stone."

"Yes, Mister Uchiha."

"Ummhmm." The headmaster was sat behind his desk with his fingers steepled, glaring at me. I'd had to put up with this on a few occasions before, but he'd never looked this pissed before. Plus, this was the first time I wasn't sure the cause had been worth it.

"Two dryers, one washer, repairs to both the wall and floor as well as electrical, plus several students' clothes. This is, I believe, your most expensive 'prank' yet."

"Yessir," I said, bowing my head and staring at the floor.

"And all of that due to this," he said, dropping what little remained of the plastic bag that had held a variety of crotchless lace panties and g strings before it has been unceremoniously dropped behind one of the dryers in the laundry room when my planter freaked over someone walking in right before he replaced Beck's underwear with its contents.

A dryer that had, apparently, had a minor short in a wire that was aggravated when the bag bumped it.

Then caught fire.

"Yessir?"

"And you admit to this all being your idea?"

"It wasn't meant to--"

"I SHOULD HOPE NOT," Mr. Uchiha said in a forceful voice, not quite a yell, but right on the edge of being one. "Mr. Stone...."

"I'll pay for everything, sir. Really," I added, when he gave me another glare. "Just please don't kick me out."

"Kick you out?" He asked, and for the first time since I had stepped into his office the anger on his face gave way to a look of confusion. "Mr. Stone, if I wanted to remove you from the school you would already be gone."

"But with all the damage I thought--"

"Your education is worth more than the damage, Mr. Stone, and I've seen your work enough times to know that this is nothing like what you'd planned. If I'd thought for a moment you or one of your conspirators would have done this on purpose, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all."

I felt myself start to collapse in relief.

"That said," he continued, freezing me again. "You are being held responsible, Mr. Stone, and this WILL go on your record. I'll accept your payment for all damages. On top of that, your visitation privileges for town have been revoked for this semester, and you're lucky I'm not removing you from the Princess program. This is NOT the conduct we expect of you."

"Yessir."

"And one more thing."

"Sir?"

"Let's keep the source of this disruption quiet, shall we? I don't think it would do you any good if this got out, not even to Mister Henderson. He's lucky enough only one of the loads to be destroyed was his."

"No sir," I agreed. When Beck had found out that some of the clothes that had been destroyed had included his one pair of uniform pants, he'd been ready to murder someone.

"Good. Now go to your room; you're confined there until tomorrow morning."

I didn't have an escort back to my room, but I didn't need one. I'd never had a prank go this badly wrong before, and it was oddly worse that I was banned from letting Beck know what happened. There had to be something I could do to help, at least a little bit.

I might have been banned from leaving my room, but I still had my phone. I'd left it in my room for the talk with Mr. Uchiha, but as soon as I got back I had a phone call to make.

"Hey, Robert. No, not another prank, I promise. Can you get hold of a pair of uniform pants for me?"

-==-
End
-==-

NOTES: Welp, here it is, the first Kingston Academy Shorts piece I've worked out. If it isn't entirely obvious, I've gotten a little out of practice again, so I'm not really proud of this one, but it's been running through my head for a little while, and I thought some people might find it a fun little addition to the PFH universe. Enjoy!

By Melanie E.

Rudy/Ruby has been having a heck of a time with the Princess program. It all seemed like such a great opportunity to indulge, but it turns out it's a lot of work! Add in a mysterious valentine, and what's a boy/girl to do?

-==-

Holy crap.

Holy crap holy crap holy crap.

Crap.

"Hey."

"Eeep!" I squeaked as I spun around, my skirt flaring just so when I did. It was the type of twirl I'd spent hours in front of the mirror practicing, that perfect feminine twirl that comes close but doesn't quite show off your undies every time you do it. For the moment, though, I couldn't really appreciate it.

There, standing behind me, was a boy.

A tall boy. Looking down at me with concern.

Gulp.

"You okay?" He asked in the same scratchy-cracked voice he'd used before. "You just look like you've seen a ghost."

"Eeep," I said again, as fantastic with words as always.

"...Oh-kay. I'm just, umm... bye," he said, giving me one last worried look before hurrying off, leaving me alone in the hallway to yet again stare at the surprise I'd found waiting for me in front of my door.

It was a small vase, with a couple of pink roses in it, and an attached envelope.

An envelope with my name on it.

Holy crap.

Holy.

Crap.

Who'd give ME a valentine?

I spun around again and threw my door open, then just as quickly closed it behind me as soon as I was inside.

I needed to calm down. Calm down calm down calm down.

Deep breath. Hold it in. Let it out.

Whoosh.

Whew.

Okay.

A little calmer, I sat down at my desk and loaded up a few stories on my laptop I'd been meaning to catch up on, something to keep me occupied while I had a good hard thunk.

Joining the Princess program had been a dream come true. I'd never really fit in at my old schools, and we'd moved around so much because of my dad's job as a transportation engineer that the friends I would make had always been the temporary kind. I'd always been the small boy, the "girly" boy, and I hadn't thought that a private school would do a lot to change that. Dad had insisted, though, talking about how great Kingston had been to him as a boy. I'd been willing to come just for the chance to stay at the same school for more than a year or two.

Then I'd found out about the Princess program.

This... this couldn't be for real, could it? I'd asked myself that countless times after we were told about it at the first assembly and introduced to the "girls" who were a part of it.

Most people thought being small and girly was a bad thing, but it was one of the only things I'd ever really liked about myself, so much so that I'd made it a goal of mine to stay just that as much as I could. I'd skip meals, I'd go out of my way NOT to do things the other boys did just in case it made me more like them. It wasn't that I didn't like them or anything, but there was just something about being feminine that had always called to me. Mom had always been okay with it, and Dad had given up once he'd realized how much it upset me when he tried to make me change, so I'd grown up getting to spend time playing dress-up with my sister and indulging myself any time I wanted, so long as we were at home at least.

I'd thought that would all have to end coming to Kingston, though I'd packed a few things just in case. Then the Princess program was revealed, and I knew, just KNEW, that I'd be joining.

That had all been months ago.

It turns out that HAVING to dress up wasn't as much fun as GETTING to. Oh, sure, I still enjoyed it, but doing it in front of people other than my own family was so much more nerve-wracking, and my nerves had never been the greatest in the first place. I've always been a bit of a clutz, but the Princess Program seemed to bring out the worst of that, made all the worse by the boys.

Oh, goodness, the boys.

A lot of them were either indifferent or outright ignored me. I could deal with them okay. A few were a bit hostile, and I could deal with them too, even if I preferred not to. But it was the OTHER boys that made me nervous. I was used to being looked at by people trying to figure me out, but I wasn't used to getting Looked at by people trying to CHECK me out.

It was kind of a thrill, I'll admit, but it was also really really scary too.

And now this.

I closed my useless laptop distraction and instead turned my attention back to the envelope.

The envelope that had a card inside.

The card that had a heart on it.

Gulp.

I hadn't opened the card yet. I didn't want to open the card. But I did. But I really, really didn't.

But I really really really did.

Whoo. Okay. Come on Rube. You can do this. Buckle up and be a man about this.

Be a man? Hah! Not in this blouse!

It took another minute to work up the nerve to pull the card out of the envelope. It was a nice card, not expensive or anything, but it was very pretty; the kind I'd seen lots of guys get for girls they wanted to impress.

Double gulp.

Was there a name? Not on the outside of the card, no writing of any kind: just the flowery lacy heart design on a pale pink background. Likewise the envelope was bare except for my name, room number, and the logo of one of the florists in Persistence.

No choice. If I wanted to know who it was from I had to open it.

I started to lift the front.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

"Eeep!" I squeaked for a third time in the last fifteen minutes, the card falling out of my hands.

"Hey, Ruby! Ready for dinner?" Came the muffled but distinctively deep voice of my dorm-mate through my door. I'd asked them to always knock on the front door rather than using the bathroom one, 'cause it might make me jump, but not nearly as much as the fright of having someone trying to climb out of the bathroom would.

Sigh. "Yeah, coming Amanda!"

The valentine would have to wait. I gave it one last weary glare as I stood up and--

"Oof."

-==-

"You're such a clutz, Ruby."

"Yeah, yeah," I groused, though the nasal sound of it made Amanda smile. My nose took entirely too much abuse from the floor.

Dinner was almost normal for me. Almost, except that I was even more paranoid than usual.

Was that boy looking at me oddly? What about him? Could it have been one of the other Princesses? None of them seemed the least concerned about my unusual behavior. Then again, me being lost in my own world during meals wasn't actually that unusual, come to think of it.

Despite my distraction I made it through the meal without stabbing myself in the hand with my fork more than once. Sadly, though, I was none the wiser as to who could have sent the valentine, though I did get a few nervous smiles from boys when I must have spent too long scrutinizing them.

I begged out early and made my way toward the doors out of the cafeteria, wondering if maybe leaving on my own would get the sender to follow me, then desperately hoping it wouldn't. Luckily for me I remained unfollowed and made it back to my dorm safely.

I had to know.

I just had to know.

I picked the card up and started to open it again.

Then I dropped it with a shiver.

Come ON, Rube! You can do this!

I picked it up again.

I stared at it.

The heart eyelessly stared back, taunting me.

With one last gulp in preparation, I opened the card, and read the cursive inside.

Dear Ruby,

Hey hon! We love you, and we're glad you've found a group of friends you feel comfortable with. He might not always be able to show it, but your dad's proud of everything you've accomplished, and the person you've become. WE'RE proud of you.

Your sister sends her regards as well, and hopes that you'll have lots of great stories to tell her when the two of you are home for the summer.

We know how nervous you can get, so we hope this card can give you a little mid-semester pick-me-up. And call home! We miss you!

Love,

Mom, Dad, and Sis

I read the card again.

One more time.

Once more, just to be sure.

Mom. And Dad. They'd sent me a Valentine's card.

I fought back the sniffles, but it wasn't any good, and soon I was laying flat on my back on my bed, tears running down my face.

The cry didn't last long, but it did a ton of good. Once I felt like I could talk again, I immediately picked up my phone and hit the first speed dial.

"Hey, Mom? Yeah, it's me. I got the card...."

-==-

So, I wanted to do something for Valentine's day, but I spent all day trying to come up with an idea that appealed to me, and buh. Nothing. Not until 10 O'clock in the evening. With just two hours left to go, I started typing, aaaand... here ya go, another Kingston Academy Short. I hope people enjoy it, and maybe this will give a bit of a glimpse into just why Ruby is the way he/she is :P

I hope people are liking these. It might not be as good as, say, an official sequel, or getting the final book version with the Sarah bonus story, but hopefully these are at least worthwhile distractions. Let me know what ya think, either way; I love reading comments, and would love to know how you feel about these.

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

Melanie E.

By Melanie E.

Want to know how Princess For Hire really ends? Here's your chance to find out!

APRIL 2nd EDIT: This was an April Fool's Joke, so if you're reading it after April 1st, keep that in mind.

-==-

"--ck? Beck? Are you alright? Beck!"

"Ugh... mwu?" I groaned as I sat up, looking around myself in confusion.

"James, call the doctor! Honey, are you okay?"

"I dink fo," I said, then spat our a mouthful of something wet and warm.

"Oh, thank goodness! Don't talk, hon, you'll get blood in your mouth."

?

As my consciousness returned my face began to scream at me in pain. I reached up to feel what was wrong, and found a pulpy mess where my nose should have been. I looked over to the side, and there stood my stepbrother with a bloody bat in his hand and a look of horror on his face.

Was it all just a dream? But what about Sarah? Leslie?

Andrew?

I started to cry as I laid there, partially from the pain and partially because of everything I'd lost.

No, no, no....

"NO!" I screeched as I shot up in my seat, the belt barely restraining me as several of the other plane passengers around me jumped or screeched in shock.

"Ma'am, what's the matter?" The stewardess asked me with concern, rushing down the isle.

"Wha?" I grumbled, my eyes hardly able to focus though I was now wide awake. Reaching up I felt my small, perfectly not-bloody nose. I was still on the plane to Dad's for spring break. I was still Beck Henderson, Kingston Academy Princess.

I was still getting called a girl.

"Umm... bad dream?" I offered, and she gave me an understanding look and a pat on the shoulder.

"Okay, hon. We're about to land anyway."

"Thanks," I told her, then leaned back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.

There's nothing worse than a Dallas ending.

-=End=-

HAH! It was all just a dream! And THAT was all just a dream too!

Okay, so this is a pretty lame April Fools' Day joke. Sorry.

Melanie E.