Sin of the Saint

CHAPTER TEN: INK

It had been a couple of weeks since beginning her training with Coach Luther. That first week, death seemed like it would be a sweet relief—her body hurt to the bone. Liv had never been so sore. But she at least seemed to be getting better at wielding the staff, though she had what seemed like thousands of blisters on her palms from gripping the wooden rod that Luther had her practicing with. She hid them with bandages and finger-less gloves so that she could still function. To anyone who would ask "why the gloves?" she would answer, chalking it up to poor circulation and move on.

So, Liv had been less than thrilled when Felicity asked her to go dress shopping with her. She had plenty of dresses at home that would do just fine, but Felicity insisted. And what Felicity wanted, she tended to get because of her obnoxious optimism that nobody could really deny. And plus, since Felicity had such a peachy view on the world...who would want to shatter that for her? Not with those doe-eyes. No way. Liv would be crushed if she ever made Felicity sad, even if it did mean that she had to figure out a way to conceal both her wings and her blisters.

So, off they went.

They reached the mall in Felicity's rather expensive car, which she parked near the back of the lot, "Getting the daily steps in, you know?" she said, waving her step-tracker watch briefly. "Hope you don't mind!"

Liv shook her head, though she was still nursing some sore leg muscles from her training session from Luther the day before. Strangely, her calves and quads were fine...it was the small twitch muscles that were killing her—the ones that she used to balance and therefore, walk.

"Oh no..." Felicity said after a slightly horrified gasp.

"What is it?" Liv asked, reaching for the door handle.

Felicity pointed out her windshield, "Imogen Vicks is here...look. I sure hope we don't run into her in there...she can be judge-y."

Liv looked and discovered the tall, dark, and beautiful girl Felicity had pointed out at the send-off party. She was surrounded in a small clique of girls who all laughed and chatted with one another.

"She had weight loss surgery, you know," Felicity whispered. "That's how she's...so...you know," she motioned to the air, trying to find words, "perfect."

"Huh," Liv said. It was none of her business, though she thought it sad that Imogen felt compelled to something like that at such a young age.

Imogen and her friends walked through the mall doors, into the store that Felicity had said she wanted to go to, and she sighed.

"It'll be alright, I think. If they don't mind their business, you can just tell them to," Liv said. "Let's go." The sooner they could get done, the sooner she could go home.

Within the store, Liv had an incredibly difficult time finding a dress that would hide her wings...these dresses were nearly all sleeveless, backless, and even if they did have a bit of sleeve, it wouldn't be nearly enough, and the shoulder blade area would still be bare.

She sighed. There were plenty of dresses here she liked, but she couldn't wear any of them. She made her way over to the clearance rack, where she found a pretty little thing—a red-violet sequined a-line dress. She held it up to herself and measured it against her body. It seemed it would fit, and the price wasn't bad at all. She threw it over her arm and headed to the dressing room, where she met Felicity, and noticed that her one dress measured small against the amount of dresses Felicity held.

"Do you think I have too many? Do you think they'll let me in with all these?" Felicity panted, nearly breaking a sweat. She took notice of Liv's lack of dresses and pouted her lips. "Only one? Surely you found a better one than that?"
Liv pursed her lips and shook her head once, "A lot of these dresses aren't quite my style. This one suits me."