Page 61 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
What was I meant to be doing?
Why was I still here?
I glanced back at Liv.
I wondered if she dreamed. If she still remembered what it felt like to have a body. Did she miss it? Did she resent me for being here instead of her?
Well, that would make two of us.
I pushed up onto my elbows, blinking tiredly, and looked down at the side of her face. Her brows were furrowed, as if she were concentrating hard… or maybe... maybe she was just as haunted as I felt.
Do we ever truly get peace?
In life? In death? In the in-between?
She was trying to get hers, at least. Forcing us across the country so she could fix things with her mother. How we were supposed to achieve that was beyond me, but also a problem for later. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something I could outline on a spreadsheet or color-code.
I carefully rolled onto my side and grabbed my phone from the nightstand, spotting a message from my mother still sitting on the screen, sent long after I’d fallen asleep.
I tapped into it.
Mom [11:00 p.m.]
Glad to hear you made it there safely, El. Thinking of you and hope you’re having the best time.
P.S. Your grandfather is having kittens about you driving the Route. He can’t wait to hear about it.
A small smile crept onto my face as I set the phone down gently, careful not to wake anyone. It was six in the morning. I’d shower, get dressed, and then start the wake-up call so I could get them moving. We needed to be back at the diner by 7:00 for breakfast, and I had to take my morning pills by 7:30.
I moved through the motions quickly, making sure to wear my shower shoes in the bathroom, rushing through my routine, eyeing the blackened grout with disgust as I washed all the important parts.
Then came clothes. Something more comfortable today, I decided. I slipped into a pair of leggings, a soft T-shirt bra, and a loose cropped tank top, round at the neck and just long enough to cover the scar. It didn’t ride too high. My stomach wouldn’t be on display.
Don’t ask me why I had a thing about my stomach. I liked the ease of a crop top, but not the draft of air that came with it.
I rummaged through my toiletry bag and pulled out some dry shampoo, spraying it aggressively through my hair before twisting it into a loose plait and bringing it over one shoulder. Once I deemed myself presentable, I stepped out of the bathroom.
Dove was stirring, blinking like a disgruntled cat and muttering unintelligibly into her pillow. Margaret’s new home, Dove’s tote bag, rested on the side table next to her bed.
Liv was hanging upside down on the couch, her legs propped against the wall as she hummed a song I couldn’t place.
“Why are yousoawake?” Dove groaned, lifting her head. “What time is it?”
I glanced at my phone. “Six thirty,” I told her. “You need to shower and get dressed. I want to be at the diner by seven for breakfast. I need to take my pills.”
Dove yawned and rubbed her face, nodding vaguely as she sat up with a groan. She was wearing loose gray sweatpants and cropped tank top. Her space buns had since been dismantled, and her brown hair now tumbled in soft waves just past her shoulders. She stretched, arms overhead—several joints cracking—and I found myself tracking the motion, blinking stupidly.
She was more toned than I’d expected, don’t ask me why that thought even crossed my mind. Her arms, though not muscular, had a quiet definition, like someone who worked out consistently but not obsessively. Her stomach was flat, tight... but healthy. Full.
My own body was practically gaunt and pale; gaining weight had always been a struggle.
“Shower shoes!” I blurted suddenly, watching her bare feet nearly touch the floor, ignoring the black slides beside her bed.
Her head snapped toward me, feet hovering above the stained carpet. Realization dawned across her face, and she quickly shoved her feet into her slides. That stomach-warming grin slid onto her face again.
“Thanks,” she murmured with a laugh. “Okay. Shower and breakfast. I can do this. Liv, if you try coming into the bathroom again like you did last night—”
“I just wanted to see how the water felt!” Liv protested, crossing her arms with a dramatic pout. “You didn’t have to be so rude about it.”
