Princesses, Inc.

by Mari Mancusi

  She turned away, staring at the wall. “I guess I was . . . embarrassed?” she finally said. “I mean, your dad? He’s so great. He’s living in a hotel room across the world just so he can provide for us. And we’re not even his real family.”

  Her voice cracked and my heart broke. I crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. “You are real family,” I told her sternly. “And I’m very glad you’re my sister.”

  “I’m glad you’re mine, too,” she said. Then she laughed. “Even if you are a better babysitter.”

  I shook my head. “Trust me—I am so not a better babysitter. I’ve just got a cool wardrobe. Which you’re welcome to borrow,” I added. “Since as of today Princesses and Pirates, Incorporated, is officially looking for new ownership.” I grinned. “If you happen to know someone who might be interested in making a lot of money this summer . . .”

  Ginny’s eyes widened. “Really? You’d let me take over the business?”

  “If the shoe fits . . . it’s all yours.”

  31

  “OKAY, LADIES. THE COLLIN PRINCE fan club session has now come to order.”

  Madison rapped her gavel onto my bedpost. We were meeting at my house, the day after the wedding, as her mother was working on yet another remodel project for some sort of magazine photo shoot. Madison swore her mother changed her house around so many times—one day she’d get lost coming home, not recognizing it.

  “The Collin Prince funeral session, you mean,” Kalani said mournfully. She poked her stomach. “Thanks to you, you dumb, taco-hating belly.”

  Madison gave me a rueful look. “Sorry, Hailey. I know we all let you down.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We gave it our best try. And it’s not like we didn’t make money. We should try to find something fun to do with it. Or maybe just save it for now,” I added, thinking of Ginny and her college fund. You never knew when hard times could hit, and it couldn’t hurt to have a little extra stashed away, just in case.

  “What are we going to do with the dresses?” Sarah asked. “ ’Cause mine is taking up a lot of closet space.”

  “Maybe we could sell them back to the thrift store?” Kalani suggested. “We could get credit to buy some more practical stuff we might actually wear again.”

  I glanced over at my closet. At my dress, which still hung from a hanger on the door. My heart squeezed a little. It was so beautiful, even if it was a little impractical. (Okay, fine, a lot impractical.) The idea of getting rid of it made me sad. But what else were we supposed to do with them? It wasn’t like we’d ever have an opportunity to wear them. And they would just end up gathering dust and taking up room.

  “I guess you’re right,” I said after a pause. I offered them to Ginny since they’re taking over the business, but she said they’d get their own. “I can see if my stepmother can drive us to the thrift store later today.”

  “Thrift store?”

  We looked up to see that Nancy had stepped into the room. She smiled at us. “Sorry to intrude,” she said. “I just thought you girls might be hungry.” She held out a plate of cookies, which we eagerly grabbed. After taking a bite and swallowing it, I turned to my stepmother.

  “Can you drive us to the thrift shop today?” I asked. “We need to sell our princess dresses.”

  “So you’re done for good, then?” she asked. “You’re sure?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. I gave all our families to Ginny and Jordan. They’re going to take over the business and create their own costumes. We’ve got way too much other stuff going on.”

  She looked us over, nodding slowly. “Understood,” she said. “Though I did have one thought. . . .”

  I cocked my head in question. “What is it?”

  “The St. Francis Group I’ve been volunteering for is starting a new initiative. They want to bring in special guests and performers to local hospitals to entertain young cancer patients. I thought it might be perfect for you guys.”

  My heart rose in my chest. “Really? We could perform at the hospital?”

  “Don’t get too excited,” my stepmother interrupted. “It’s not like a babysitting job or a wedding. It’s for charity—so you wouldn’t get paid.”

  Oh. Our heads sank. Of course.

  “But,” she added, “I’m sure the kids would really appreciate it. They don’t have much to look forward to in their lives. It would probably mean a lot.” She shrugged. “Anyway, no pressure. I just thought I’d let you know of the opportunity. No big deal either way.”

  And with that she scooped up the empty cookie plate and headed out of the room, closing the door behind her. I watched her go, then turned back to my friends.

  “I really thought for a second she was going to say it was a real job,” Sarah said, looking dejected.

  “Yeah. Like there was actually a chance still—to get the money for Comicpalooza,” added Madison.

  Kalani sighed. “We have to face facts. There is literally no way that’s going to happen now.”

  “Right.” I bit my lower lip. “Still. I think we should do this anyway.”

  The girls looked up at me. “What? Why?” Madison asked.

  I shrugged. “Remember when we started this whole thing? How fun it was? Dressing up as princesses, working on our scripts, playing with the kids. I know it was all for money . . . but it was also kind of great, right?”

  I smiled, remembering that first day with Brody and the crazy random pirate treasure. “We started this business together,” I reminded them. “And we were supposed to do our last job together too, but that didn’t work out. So what about this? What about putting on the dresses just one more time? Not for money. But for the kids. And our friendship.”

  Everyone nodded their heads in agreement. We were going to do this . . . once more with feeling.

  And speaking of friendship . . .

  Sarah turned to me. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

  I somehow managed to nod, my heart in my throat. I followed her out of the bedroom and into the living room, settling down next to her on the couch. I watched as she stared down at her hands, as if gathering courage to talk. I wanted to say something. But I knew it was better to wait for her to say what she wanted to say.

  She drew in a breath. “I had a lot of time to kill while at the hospital,” she said. “And I read your story.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “It was . . . funny,” she said, a small, reluctant smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Really funny. You’re a good writer, Hailey.”

  “You’re a good writer too,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t think so. Trust me—it wasn’t that at all. It’s just . . . you were so excited to be doing the Collin Prince story, and I didn’t want to let you down.”

  “I would have understood, you know,” she said. “I mean, I know you want to be a writer, and I would have totally cheered you on at the contest.”

  “I know you would have. And I’m sorry.” I gave her a rueful look. “Also, for the record, I love our Collin Prince story. And I don’t want to stop working on it . . . with you.”

  She looked up at me for the first time, her eyes shining. “Really?” she asked.

  “Really.”

  She grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers. “Because I wrote the next chapter this morning,” she informed me, plopping the papers on my lap. “So it’s your turn again.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “I’ll get started on it right now.”

  32

  “OKAY, MY FIERCE AND NOBLE princesses and pirates! We are finally here. We stand at the doorway to the great temple, where treasure has been hidden for a thousand years. We have fought long and hard to get here, and now it will be ours.” I turned to the kids who stood behind me, dressed in their princess and pirate best, their eyes shining with excitement. “Get behind me now. For I am about to unleash my magic. Are you ready?”

  “Ready!”
the kids chimed, scurrying into position with a little help from Sarah, my princess assistant. Smiling at her, I readied my wand.

  “Okay. On the count of three . . . One . . . two . . .”

  “Who dares disturb my treasure trove?”

  Madison burst into the room in full pirate regalia, Kalani and Brody dancing by her side. The kids screamed, ducking behind me. Madison shot me a quick grin before getting back into character. “You think you can just walk right in here and steal my treasure, do you?” she demanded, strutting up and down the hospital playroom, giving an evil eye to each kid in turn. They giggled and squealed, their faces flush with excitement. “Well, the way I see it, every last one of you will be walkin’ the plank before the night is through!”

  “Um, literally!” Kalani chimed in, evidently forgetting her lines. But everyone laughed, so I guess that was okay.

  “Nay!” cried Sarah, stepping up beside me. “It will be you, evil pirates, who will be defeated tonight. By me and my valiant group of princess and pirate warriors.”

  She turned to our group, clapping her hands together. “Are you ready?” she asked.

  “Ready!” they cried.

  “On the count of three, I want you to use your warrior ninja magic and push the pirates away. One, two . . . three!”

  She waved her arms in the air. The kids followed suit, mimicking the Jedi-like moves we’d taught them earlier. Brody gasped, his hand going to his throat. He stumbled to the floor, Kalani following suit. Madison turned to the kids, a horrified look on her face.

  “No!” she cried. “Not the ninja magic! Anything but the ninja magic!”

  I stepped up to the two of them. “Do you seek mercy? Are you sorry for your evil ways?”

  “We’re sorry!” Kalani cried. “Please, mighty princess. Free us from the ninja magic and we will be good pirates from now on.”

  I turned to the kids. “What do you think? Should we believe them?”

  “No!” the kids cried.

  I laughed, turning back to our pirates, who were still struggling for breath. “Sorry, guys. My squad has decided. It’s Davey’s Locker for you.”

  I waved my hands, flicking my wand in the direction of the evil pirates. They screamed and froze into statues—defeated by my all-powerful magic.

  I turned back to the kids and smiled. They all cheered. I took a little bow, then walked over to a corner, where I had stashed the loot.

  “You have done well, my princesses and pirates,” I told them. “And now we shall share in the treasure.” With a flourish, I swept open the chest. The kids squealed in excitement at all the prizes inside. Glow cubes, little toys, shiny golden coins, plastic tiaras. We had hit up Party City hard before coming here—thanks to my stepmother’s donation to the cause—and created our best and biggest loot stash yet.

  As the kids rummaged happily through the box, taking all the prizes they wanted, I turned to my friends, a big grin on my face. This had been our best show ever. And, even better: For the first time, we’d gotten to do it together as a group.

  I settled into my seat, watching the kids, a warmth washing over me, even as my heart squeezed a little. In anticipation of our coming, they’d all dressed as princesses or pirates, with sparkling costumes of every color, donated by my stepmother’s charity group. A local wig company had also provided beautiful long-haired wigs for the occasion, since most of the kids had lost their real hair to chemotherapy, and the little girls wore them with pride, topped with tiaras.

  But all the costumes in the word couldn’t compete with their faces—which were practically glowing with happiness. Except . . .

  I frowned. My eyes settled on one little girl sitting alone in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. She looked about six years old and stood out from the rest of the group, the only one not wearing a wig or costume. She looked extremely unhappy, watching from the sidelines but refusing to participate in the treasure grab.

  “Who is she?” I asked a nearby nurse. “Doesn’t she want to join the others?”

  “Oh.” The nurse gave me a knowing look. “That’s just how Avery is. Don’t worry. She kind of keeps to herself.”

  “I see.” I pursed my lips, not liking how sad the little girl looked. Like she didn’t have a friend in the world. All the other kids were laughing and joking—ignoring her completely, as if she weren’t even in the room.

  I wondered if I should leave her alone too—maybe that was what she wanted. But no . . . something in her face told me that wasn’t it. There was a hint of longing in her eyes. As if she wanted to join in but couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  And so, as my friends settled the others into a semicircle, leading them in a rousing rendition of “Let it Go,” I headed over to her.

  “Did you want to join them?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  She didn’t look up. Just stared at the floor and shook her head.

  “Yeah. I don’t blame you,” I told her in a confidential tone. “Between you and me, my friends aren’t very good singers.” I made a show of putting my hands over my ears and wrinkling my nose.

  “They’re okay,” she said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. “And the others like to sing.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I do. I used to sing at my church all the time. It’s just . . .” She shrugged and trailed off.

  “You don’t want to sing here,” I concluded.

  “I don’t want to be here,” she corrected. “I was supposed to be home by now. They promised I would be home in time for Easter.”

  “So you could sing with your church?”

  She looked up, as if surprised. “Yes,” she said solemnly.

  I gave her a rueful look. “That stinks. I’m sorry.”

  She sighed. “Everyone’s sorry. But no one can do anything about it. All these other kids? They’re going home in a few weeks or whatever. And I’m going to be stuck here forever.”

  I watched as her eyes drifted over to the party again. My heart hurt at how sad she looked. Cinderella, who wouldn’t allow herself to go to the ball. If only I had some real-life fairy godmother magic to help . . .

  Wait a second . . .

  A sudden idea struck me. Sure, I may not have had fairy godmother magic. But I still had a few tricks up my sleeve.

  Literally, as Kalani would say.

  I turned back to Avery. “Listen,” I said, “I don’t know if you’d be up for this, but I could actually use your help. You see, after the whole singing thing? I’m supposed to this magic show for everyone. And the thing is—I don’t have a magician’s assistant to help me. And we all know, you can’t do a magic show without a magician’s assistant.”

  She gave me a wary look. I rushed to continue before she could shoot me down. “I don’t suppose you know anything about magic—”

  “Actually, I do,” she said shyly, surprising me with her answer.

  “You do? Really?”

  She nodded. “My brother does magic. He’s really good. And he’s shown me some of his tricks.”

  I grinned widely. “That’s great!” I cried. “Then you can totally help me out.”

  I reached into my sack, pulled out my magic snow powder, and placed the bag in her hands. She took it from me and looked it over, cautious excitement lighting up her face.

  “You really want me to be your assistant?” she asked.

  “I need you to be,” I corrected. “Otherwise my show is going to fail miserably.” I paused, then added, “What do you say? Can you help a princess out?”

  A small smile crossed her face. “I think I can do that.”

  * * *

  I knew in my heart that when it came to magic tricks, I would probably never reach the Collin Prince level of awesome. But even I had to admit, this had been my best show yet. Especially with little Avery as my right-hand girl. Seriously, you’d never know by watching us that we hadn’t been a team for years. She seemed to anticipate my every move—and it was like she knew almost
all my tricks before I even announced them. In fact, she was so versed on some of them that I wondered if maybe she watched Collin Prince videos too.

  The other kids ate up the show. And after we were finished, they all crowded around Avery to see her magic wand and ask her how she did the tricks. Her face was shining, alive, excited as she demonstrated, no longer the outsider of the group.

  I grinned to myself. Mission accomplished. Cinderella had arrived at the ball.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the nurse I had talked to earlier standing in the doorway, her eyes looking rather red. I slipped away from the party to go talk to her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She nodded, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. “Yes. I’m fine,” she assured me. “It’s just . . . I like seeing them like this. Especially Avery. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the girl crack a smile before tonight. She’s such a serious child, carrying the weight of the world on her back. So to see her like this—laughing and playing with the other kids . . .” She shook her head, gazing at me with grateful eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “Seriously, the memories of this night are going to go a long way in keeping their spirits up. Exactly what they’ll need to get through the tough days ahead.”

  I looked back at Avery, the tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t bother to brush them away. “Can I come back?” I asked the nurse. “I mean, just to visit sometime?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure Avery would love that. All of them would.”

  I smiled. “I would love it too.”

  33

  “WELL, THAT WAS AMAZING,” MADISON announced, walking into my bedroom Sunday morning. Her house was still under construction, so we’d chosen to rendezvous here instead. The plan was for us to watch all the new Collin Prince videos, as per tradition, then head down to the thrift store later and sell back our dresses as we’d talked about.

  Except . . . now I wasn’t so sure. I mean, yes, it’d be nice to buy new, more practical clothes. Clothes that actually fit in my closet. But then this whole thing we’d started would all be over for good. There’d be no going back. No more princess babysitting. Or princess hospital visiting. The thought made me a little sad.