Free Stitch by Samantha Durante Page B

was fortunate, since she was in desperate need of a haircut.  Regrettably she hadn’t thought of it until well after the nearest salon had closed, so instead she’d taken extra care in blow drying her long layers into smooth, shiny tresses.  The blowout helped to hide most of her split ends and she was reasonably certain that no one else would notice the damage.  From a distance, her hair actually looked glossier than she remembered it ever being.  Perhaps all those months away from heated styling tools had done some good.
    Alessa curled her fingertips and held them up to her face for a closer look.  Her nails, as usual, were bitten down to nothing and her cuticles were peeling from dryness.  She certainly didn’t have the time – or the patience – to polish them this close to the start of the party, so she turned instead to the fireplace mantle where she had stashed a bottle of lotion next to her hairbrush and makeup bag.  Squeezing some into her hands, she massaged it into her fingertips.  Better already.
    Alessa turned back to her closet and groaned.  Clothes were going to be the most difficult part.  She hadn’t bought anything new since before her parents died, even though she’d dropped a good 15 pounds in the interim.  She unfolded a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans and slipped into them.  They bunched unflatteringly in the back and hung lower on her hips than intended.  At one time, Alessa had been thin but curvy, a tall well-muscled athlete with a strong yet feminine physique.  Now she was more angular than anything, and she found herself missing the rounded behind she’d once cursed.
    She tried another pair of jeans, old ones that she had not worn much after accidentally shrinking them in the dryer a few years ago.  They fit a bit more snugly than the last pair and were definitely more flattering in the rear.  She decided to stick with these, as she didn’t have many more options in the denim department.
    Alessa wasn’t sure what kind of top to wear.  She’d normally put on a light sweater at this time of year, but with hundreds of people crowding into the house, it was bound to be warmer than she was used to.  She pulled out a sleeveless printed blouse that was fitted around the waist and slipped it over her head.  It hung loosely from her shoulders like a sack, the cinched waist doing nothing to improve the appearance.  No good.  Alessa stripped it off and tossed it on the bed.
    Working her way through half the tops in her closet, Alessa found fault with each one in turn.  Too boring, too loose, too old, too frumpy.  The pile of discarded shirts on the bed grew.  She let out an exasperated sigh as the rhythmic bass from the stereo system downstairs started to bump through the floor.  Guests would be arriving any minute.
    There was a knock at the door and Janie poked her head in. 
    “Hey, are you almost –” she paused midsentence as she took in the mound of clothes on the bed, “…ready…” she trailed off.  Janie sniffed the air with a small twitch of her nose and considered for a moment.
    Suddenly her face lit up as it dawned on her what Alessa had been up to.  “Perfume… makeup… clothes… Oh my God, you met a guy!”
    Alessa smiled abashedly.  “Guilty.”
    “Ooooh!” Janie squealed.  “What’s his name?  Where did you meet him?  When did this happen?  And why haven’t you told me about this yet?!”  Janie was spewing questions faster than Alessa could take them in.
    Alessa laughed.  “Okay, okay… slow down!  His name is Nikhil and I met him yesterday while flyering on the quad.”
    Janie clapped with excitement.  “And is he cute?” She drew out the last word for emphasis.
    “Very.”
    Janie laughed and clapped her hands some more.  Alessa blushed.  Practically skipping to Alessa’s side, Janie crossed the room and stood facing the mirror alongside her.  “So what are you going to wear?  I hope not that…” She scowled with