Free After by Kristin Harmel Page A

been like that for a while.”
    Jennica nodded. “Come on,” she said as she started toward the door. “We don’t have much time to get you dressed. I told Brian we’d pick him up in an hour.”
    I looked down at what I was wearing: my favorite pair of jeans, flip-flops, a pale pink tee, and a gray hoodie that I’d gotten at the Star Beck concert Jennica and I had gone to a year and a half ago in Boston. It had the redheaded singer’s face emblazoned on the back and a handful of little sequined stars down the right front side. It was one of my favorite pieces of clothing, and I figured the sequins dressed it up enough to make it party appropriate. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” I asked.
    Jennica rolled her eyes. “Everything,” she said.
    She led me inside, past the kitchen, where the fridge door was open, obscuring all but the feet of Jennica’s mom, who was standing behind it, looking inside.
    “Hi, girls!” she said, straightening up with a smile. “I was just about to throw something in for dinner. Hungry?”
    She shut the refrigerator door, and I couldn’t help staring. I’d known Mrs. Arroyo for years now, and she’d always been the quintessential mom, so much so that I’d caught myself feeling jealous lots of times this year when my mom had retreated inside herself so much. I was used to seeing Mrs. Arroyo in jeans and a T-shirt, or covered up in an apron, with her hair tied back and little makeup on.
    But today, she was wearing a denim miniskirt and a halter top. Her hair was loose and had been curled at the ends, and she had on way too much blush and lipstick.
    Jennica audibly sighed. “We’ll be in my room, Mom,” she said. Then, before I could say anything or react, she grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the staircase. She smiled an obviously fake smile at me. “Divorce is fun!” she said brightly.
    It had been ages since I’d been to Jennica’s house. She was always busy with Brian, and I supposed I’d been glad to have the distance between us; seeing her perfect family depressed me. But is this what had happened to all of them since I’d stopped paying attention?
    I followed Jennica upstairs. She pulled me into her room and shut the door behind us, then she flopped onto her bed.
    “What’s the deal with your mom?” I asked, sitting down beside her.
    “She thinks she’s a teenager. Apparently, it’s her plan to get her ‘sexy’ back.” Jennica shrugged. “I mean, good for her, I guess. But I would never dress like that.”
    “Me neither,” I said with a shudder. “And my mom would kill me if I did.”
    Jennica snorted. “Don’t be so sure,” she said. “Your mom looks about as tuned in as mine does.”
    I was silent. She was right.
    Jennica shook her head and got up from the bed. “Anyhow,” she said. “Let’s get you dressed.”
    For the next twenty minutes, I felt like a Barbie doll as Jennica made me try on outfit after outfit. She had determined that we should both be wearing tight jeans and cleavage-baring tops tonight, like all the popular girls.
    “Okay,” I said slowly. “That sounds good. But I have two problems.”
    Jennica simply raised an eyebrow and waited for me to go on.
    “First, it’s like forty degrees outside,” I said. “I think it’s past the skimpy-top-wearing season.”
    Jennica rolled her eyes. “Fine, so we’ll wear skimpy tops with jackets. Happy?”
    I smiled at her without answering. “However, the second, and much more pressing, issue is that I have no cleavage. So a cleavage-baring top is pretty much impossible.”
    “Girl!” Jennica said, shaking her head. “Don’t you know how to work what you have?”
    What I had was an A-cup. But in Jennica’s frighteningly capable hands, and with the help of pads from an old bra she’d grown out of a couple years ago and some double-sided tape, I suddenly looked a lot different than usual in a pair of long black pants, high heels, and a low-cut sparkly silver tank top of