Free Love Remains by Kaye Dacus

bootcamp-like diet and a training regime he had put her on at age fifteen, not even Bobby would have been able to pretend to be attracted to her.
    “I guess that means I’m going to have to join the gym again.” She groaned and rested her chin on her fist.
    “Why? I told you I would see to finding you someone. Trying to meet someone at the gym is too chancy.”
    Zarah almost laughed at Flannery’s expression of wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t mean to meet someone at the gym. I mean I need to go to the gym to work out and try to lose about fifty pounds.”
    Across the small table, Caylor made a raspberry sound. “Puh-leez. If you lose fifty pounds there’ll be almost nothing left of you. Besides, you know good and well I’m at least twenty pounds heavier than you. So what’s that say about me?”
    Zarah rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt you weigh more than I do, but you’re also almost four inches taller than me. When I look at you all I see is someone who has curves in all the right places. When I look in the mirror, all I see is fat.”
    “Yet you know I wear the same size you do. So if you see yourself as fat, how can you not see me as fat?”
    “Because you’re tall. You carry it better than I do.”
    Caylor’s expression sobered, and she reached across the table to squeeze Zarah’s hand. “No, that’s not it. It’s because I didn’t have a father who called me fat when I wasn’t. But if you’re serious about joining the gym, I’ll join with you. Even though I think I’m pretty fabulous just the way I am, taking off a couple of pounds would give me a great excuse to splurge on a bunch of new clothes.”
    “And don’t forget the shoes,” Flannery added, grinning. “You realize that if I’m going to start setting up Zarah on some fabulous dates, that means it’s time for a makeover. Because you can’t wear a business suit out on a hot date. And it has come to my attention, Miss Thang , that your wardrobe is entirely too serious.”
    Caylor nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Flan’s right. If you’re going to make this Bobby guy jealous, suits and separates aren’t going to cut it.”
    Zarah shook her head, laughing. “You guys know how I feel about too-short and too-low cut. Not happening.”
    “Nobody said anything about making you into a hoochie mama.” Flannery’s emphatic statement drew looks and guffaws from the college students at the nearest table. “All I’m saying is that we have to break you out of the professor look.”
    “Hey, now!” Caylor playfully smacked Flannery’s shoulder. “I resemble that remark.”
    “Now, now Professor Evans. You know I wasn’t including you in that sweeping generalization, for all that you are a tenured professor. Actually, you have a few things in your wardrobe that I’d love to see if we can find—or borrow—for Zarah. And we’ve got to do something about that hair.”
    Zarah self-consciously touched the frizzy curls resting on her shoulder. “What do you mean do something about it?”
    Flannery narrowed her eyes and gazed at her as a sculptor might study a slab of marble. “I think it’s time for something drastic and dramatic. I’m seeing short hair.”
    Caylor grimaced. “I don’t know, Flan. You’re the one who forwarded that article to us last year about the survey that proved men are attracted to women with long hair and intimidated by women with short hair.” She cocked her head and touched the flipped-out ends of her artfully messy, short hair.
    “Exactly my point.” Flan smacked her hands down on the table. “Short hair is a sign of confidence, and we want Zarah to appear as confident as possible.”
    Nervousness rose in Zarah’s chest. “There’s a huge difference between appearing confident and being confident.”
    “And how would you know?” Flannery raised her brows. “You neither appear nor are confident. You never have been in the entire time I’ve known you.”
    Though Flannery’s words were