Free Kiss by Francine Pascal

keep her suspicions close around her, but Mary, this place . . . it was dazzling. Can’t you just enjoy something? she asked herself impatiently. Accept that some places, some people are purely nice?
    She didn’t have time to answer herself. There was a knock on the door, and seconds later, Mary opened it partially and poked her head in. “Hi.”
    â€œHi.”
    â€œDid you sleep?”
    â€œLike a vegetable.”
    â€œMe too. Guess what time it is?”
    Gaia shrugged. She wasn’t used to having someone talk to her while she was lying in bed. She wasn’t a slumber-party kind of girl. She sat up and hugged a pillow on her lap.
    â€œOne o’clock. P.M. Big meal is in one hour.”
    Gaia cleared her throat. What exactly had she’d gotten herself into here? “Is it a dressed-up sort of thing?” Her voice came out squeaky. She didn’t want to bring up the fact that she had no home, no possessions, and certainly no Central Park West party clothes at the moment.
    Mary had a knack for coming to Gaia’s rescue without Gaia even having to ask. “Just a little. I’ve been laying out stuff in my room. I have the most fabulous dress for you. Come on.”
    Gaia sat on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a big gray T-shirt she’d worn under her flannel shirt last night. Her legs were bare, her feet covered by white cotton socks. “Like this?” she asked.
    â€œSure,” Mary said. “It’s just down the hall. No brothers in sight. I mean, in case you care.”
    Mary was under the mistaken impression that Gaia was a normal human being who did things like this. The easiest thing would be to play along, to pretend she had comfy pals whose clothes she borrowed, in whose homes she felt perfectly fine wandering around in a T-shirt and socks.
    Gaia was a terrible actress. She skulked down the hall and darted into Mary’s room like an escapee from Attica.
    Once the door was shut, she made herself relax. Mary wasn’t kidding about laying out clothes. If there was a carpet in the spacious room, it would have taken an archaeologist to find it. Only the rough shapes of the various pieces of furniture were apparent under thick piles of clothes.
    Mary was unapologetic about her colossal slobbiness. Gaia liked that in a person.
    â€œOkay, you ready for the perfect dress?” Mary asked.
    Gaia nodded.
    â€œTra la.” Mary held up a tiny, red, crushed velvet dress with a plunging neckline.
    Gaia stared. “Are you kidding? I couldn’t fit my left foot into that dress.”
    Mary frowned. “Have you tried it? No. Shut up until you try it.”
    Gaia held out her hand for it. It weighed about three ounces. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve never been dressed by a fascist before.” Feeling large and self-conscious, Gaia pulled the T-shirt over her head and quickly yanked the dress over her head and shoulders. One arm. Two arms. The fabric settled with unexpected ease over her stomach and butt, the skirt grazing a few inches above her knees.
    Mary was surveying the progress with her hands on her hips. When Gaia turned around, her frown blossomed into a smile. “Wow! See?” She took Gaia’s hand and pulled her in front of the full-length mirror on the back of her closet.
    Gaia gazed at herself in genuine surprise. The dress actually fit. Granted, it was made of stretchy stuff. And it did cling to her gigantic muscles in an unforgiving manner.
    â€œI look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a dress,” Gaia mumbled.
    â€œWhat?” Mary demanded. “I’m going to smack you, girl. You look incredible.”
    Gaia turned around to examine her backside. “I have incredibly huge muscles.”
    Mary blew out her breath in frustration. “Guyaaaaa,” she scolded. “You have the body every woman would die to have. You have the long, defined muscles that keep the rest of us slogging it out in overpriced gyms