Chapter 1
She stared at herself in the mirror of the hotel bathroom. Her lips stood out, swollen and red, as if to match her puffy, bloodshot eyes. The pores on her face were visibly clogged with dust and dirt, the area below her eyes cleaned slightly by her tears, even as she fought to hold them back and wipe away those that managed to escape. Even in this state she somehow felt she looked too much like herself. A mess. Hair like a wild birds nest. A face in desperate need of a good washing. She never cared what she looked like, it wasn't part of her character, but right now, for some reason, it bothered her.
If she could be a girl with a clean face, maybe even with a little make up on, and freshly washed and brushed hair, and some clothes that might even be a little nicer-fit her a little better-just imagine all of the things that that would imply. Stability. A safe place to get ready in the morning after a warm bed to sleep in at night. If she was safe, her family would have to be safe too. Maybe they would all live in a big house with their own bedrooms, and kitchen where Iggy could cook them meals, or a telephone where they could order pizza and then eat it in the living room and watch television. A bathroom to take hot showers in and good smelling soaps and shampoos to use. Total could live with them. The kids could play in the back yard. They would be safe.
In that moment she realized that was all she really wanted. Even if they still had wings it would be just fine, just so long as they were safe. If they were safe, having wings would be a blessing, something extraordinary and amazing, rather than a curse. That was what she was fighting for.
She immediately got into the shower, making the water so hot and scrubbing herself so forcefully that her skin turned pink. For the first time in a long time, she actually used the conditioner provided by the hotel, letting it sit in her hair and soften it. When she was done she wrapped herself in a fluffy white towel and blow-dried her hair. Lifting a trembling hand she wiped the steam from the bathroom mirror and stared at herself once more. Not perfect. Not what she wanted. But a little better than before. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Nudges treasured make up bag, just a few essentials Nudge had slowly acquired. Max slowly reached out, unzipping the bag and locating the small bottle of somewhat lighter tinted moisturizer that Nudge had purchased in the hope that Max might come around and use it.
Max felt strange and a little awkward as she gently squeezed a small amount of the lotion onto her fingertips and then slowly began to blend it into her face and neck. She then reached for the mascara, trying to apply it to her lashes as she had seen Nudge do so many times. When she stepped back and looked again her heart seemed to squeeze in on itself. She didn't look like a picture in a magazine, but she looked like that girl. The one who lived in the big house and watched TV in the living room and slept in her own bedroom.
She was jarred from her revery as someone knocked on the door, causing it to shake a little.
"Max? Is everything alright? You've been in there a long time and Gazzy needs to use the bathroom." It was Dylan. Max's breath caught as she began to panic. Could she really parade around looking like this? She wanted to. Her hand shook violently as she reached for the door handle, her other hand clutching her towel tightly around her.
Dylans eyes opened a little wider, "Oh," he breathed, obviously more than a little confused, "You look... Nice."
Max blinked, unsure of what to say. "Er... Thanks." she finally muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Her thoughts immediately flashed back to the way he had held her hand before they took off, and even more so to the way it made her feel a little better. A little stronger... She had liked it.
"I'd like to get some new clothes." She suddenly blurted out, shocking everyone in the room, none of which could remember the last time Max had asked for something for herself, let alone something girly like clothes.
Nudge squealed, "Oh my gosh, can I please go with you? I want to help! Please?"
Max suddenly felt shy and began studying her feet, "Um, yeah, I was kind of thinking we could all go. I don't want us to get separated and we could all use some new stuff."
"I think that's a great idea." Dylan intoned, his voice serious. "I think we could all use the chance to do something normal and fun to make us feel a little more human."
"Fun?" Gazzy gagged, but presented no further arguments.
And so they set off, the credit card Max's mom had given them for emergencies in hand.
As they walked down the streets Max couldn't help but notice the way Dylan stuck to her side, somehow seeming less like a lost puppy and more like a serious guard dog. He glanced into a shop window, saying something that Max wasn't paying enough attention to catch. She looked over at him from the corner of her eye as he stared around at the shopping choices available to them, talking frivolously about where they could go. His hand hung limply by his side and Max was once again reminded of its warmth and stability, the way it had made her feel as if she was made stronger, and something in her forced her hand outward. As her fingers intertwined with his he looked over, shock clear on his face. And then he smiled.
"So, where do you want to go first?"
