Tears by Francine Pascal Page B

tight across what she saw as her overdeveloped shoulders and muscle-bound stomach. No doubt about it: Even in this ridiculous getup, she was still several Grand Canyon—sized leaps away from feminine. Forget about looking like an ice-s kater. She had a better shot at being mistaken for a female boxer.
    Oh, well. Sighing, Gaia took one last, punishing look at herself and wondered why she’d even bothered
attempting
to be a regular girl. This dress was made for a baby-doll teen, the kind of girl who screamed for boy bands. Couldn’t her father see that—
    â€œAre you sure this shit isn’t alarmed?” a voice whispered in the cubicle next to hers.
    Gaia stiffened at the sound. Then suddenly she felt very depressed. That was just another one of her abnormal qualities—an animal-like sense of hearing.
    â€œWho cares? Let’s get out of here,” a second voice retorted.
    Without a moment’s hesitation Gaia stepped out of her cubicle—just in time to see two girls pull back the curtain of their own. One was small and sallowwith bad skin and a frightened, guilty look on her face. Her backpack was bursting at the seams. It probably weighed as much as she did. The other was a big, broad goth-metal girl—more beef than fat, with a pierced lip, a pierced eyebrow, and sullen eyes.
    Gaia planted herself in front of them.
    The goth chick flashed her a don’t-mess-with-me look.
    â€œI don’t think you want to leave without hanging up the stuff you just tried on,” Gaia said pleasantly, her eyes falling on the bulging backpack of the smaller girl.
    â€œAnd I don’t think you want to butt into anyone’s business,” the bigger girl shot back, her mouth twisting into an ugly half smile, half grimace.
    â€œOh, but you’re wrong.” Gaia blocked the exit with a long arm as she leaned against the wall. “Butting in is what I like to do.”
    â€œWell, then how come your butt is hanging
out
of that heinous dress?” the small girl demanded. And then, to Gaia’s utter shock, she reached into her bag and pulled out a switchblade—which she promptly flicked open and wielded in Gaia’s face. “Now get the hell out of my way, bitch.”
    Normally Gaia would have laughed.
Even
with
a knife, these two were about as intimidating as a couple of stuffed animals.
But she was extremely pissed. She wasn’t sure whichwas more infuriating, being called a bitch by the side-kick of a Marilyn Manson wanna-be or the comment about the dress. No, actually, she
was
sure. The dress. Definitely the comment about the dress. Gaia cursed herself for having even tried it on. She had to get out of it. Now. But first, of course, she’d have to deal with these very unfortunate half-wits.
    The smaller girl lunged forward, blade out. Gaia simply stepped out of her way; she didn’t even have to make much effort to dodge the strike. The girl had telegraphed it before she’d even moved. With her left hand Gaia feinted a punch. With her right she jabbed a quick punch into the girl’s midsection. The girl gasped, doubling over. The goth’s jaw dropped as the knife slipped from the smaller one’s fingers. Gaia calmly picked up the knife and raised her eyebrows.
    â€œNow, I know you don’t want me to break every bone in your body,” she stated. “That’ll make shoplifting so much more difficult.”
    The smaller girl collapsed onto the floor, clutching her stomach. The goth girl took a step back. Gaia smiled. Suddenly an anxious store clerk appeared, followed by her father and a security guard. Her father surveyed the scene, then grinned. Gaia shrugged. She noticed a security camera above his head. The store employees must have seen the whole fight. Gaia glanced back at the girls. They must have seen thecamera, too. And they had still attacked her with a knife. Geniuses, they were not.
    â€œAre you all right?” her father