Page 120 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
Liv reached out a hand and pressed her palm against the sign, her pink hair blowing in the breeze, sequins shining magnificently under the sun. She said nothing—as if, for the first time since we’d met her, she was lost for words.
So close.
Home.
Mom.
The words popped into my mind unbidden as I stared at her. I blinked, tearing my gaze away and shifting it back to the sign, trying to steady my breathing. What I’d gotten from her—what I could feel from her—
They weren’tmyfeelings.
“You girls taking the route?”
The voice behind us made all three of us turn. A middle-aged woman stood there, her hair in a bun, wearing work boots, jeans, and a loose tank top.
“Yeah,” I said brightly, smiling as I squinted into the sun behind my sunglasses. “We’re headed toward Los Angeles.”
“Nice,” she said with a nod. “We get a lot of people through here. All passing by, obviously. Did you girls want a picture with the sign?”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” I said quickly, nudging Ellis. “Get the Polaroid camera out.”
Ellis nodded and pulled it from her bag, giving the same familiar instructions I’d heard so many times on this trip. I never stopped grinning at them.
We positioned ourselves by the sign, leaving enough space for the actual words to be visible. Liv went behind it, clambering up so she could rest her arms and chin atop it. The camera clicked. Something tightened in my chest at the sound, the familiar whir catching my ears, as Ellis rushed over, retrieving the photo and sliding it into the inner pocket of her bag.
“Thanks,” I said to the woman with a smile.
“No worries. Enjoy your trip, girls.”
I looked to Ellis, who was now bagging her camera.
“Should we get a selfie?” I asked, gesturing at the sign.
She agreed with a grin and came over. We stood closer this time, and as I positioned my phone, I slid an arm casually around Ellis’s shoulders, trying to ignore the sudden racing beat of my heart, keeping it as casual as I could when you’re trying to give off the vibe that it means nothing, when in reality, it means everything.
She leaned into me almost instantly, and the hairs on my arms rose.
We snapped a few more pictures before deciding we had enough. Ellis gestured for both Liv and me to follow her toward the diner, and we began walking back over.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I pulled it out to see a message from Ida.
Ida [12:20 p.m.]
Miss you, girly. The crystal shelf collapsed today. Margaret was definitely in the shop, because I took a business card from a girl who wanted us to stock her Angel Aura Quartz.
I snorted at the message, immediately taken back to the day Margaret had raged about those crystals in the shop, telling some TikTok aesthetic witch exactly why she didn’t stock them.
“They’re just glittery distractions, girly. Manufactured and sold to girls like you who care more about how things look than about true earth rawness. About as spiritual as a fairy at a rave.”
Jesus. A wave of homesickness washed over me, my mind cast back to Margaret and her warmth, Ida’s hilariously snarky one-liners, and the ever-lingering smell of incense that no amount of open windows could clear from the shop, even if we ever did close up.
I missed the routine of waking up and getting dressed, opening the shop, sipping hot herbal tea.
I missed the sound of Margaret’s melodic lilt as she sang softly, dusting the crystals before the day started, the way the wooden floors would creak not because they were old, but because she deliberately stepped on the most worn-out spots.
I frowned.
I didn’t miss, however, how heavy things had gotten back home. I didn’t miss Uncle Bill and his horribleness. I didn’t miss my mother’s constant lack of faith in me. I didn’t miss the sudden coolness the shop had taken on now that Margaret’s alive, enigmatic presence had vanished.
