Page 54 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
Ellis shot me a sideways look. “No. We have to make sure we can actually afford it. I see a few nights of sleeping in the car in our future.”
“I’m supposed to be the psychic here,” I said, unable to help myself.
She didn’t even crack a smile, just rolled her eyes and walked inside without a word.
“Maybe she’s hungry,” Liv whispered in my ear, making me jump. She chuckled and glided past me, floating into the room.
The room looked exactly how you’d expect a budget motel room to look. Faded yellow wallpaper lined the walls. Two twin beds were topped with white quilts patterned with wilted-looking flowers, something straight out of a retirement home. A quick glance into the bathroom revealed a space that could only generously be described as retro.
The carpet squished slightly beneath my foot when I stepped inside, why, I didn’t want to know. The ceiling light flickered once before holding steady.
Ellis had claimed the bed by the window. Her two bags were already tossed on top, one of them rattling with whatever was inside, while she stood at the foot of the bed, her expression unreadable as she rubbed her temples.
Liv hovered between both beds, hands on her hips, eyes scanning the room.
“Wow,” she deadpanned, her voice slicing through the glacial silence. “I died, and this still isn’t rock bottom.”
I snorted as I dropped my bag onto the remaining bed. Ellis didn’t react. She just kept massaging her temples, and I wondered if she was dissociating.
“I call the bathroom first,” I announced, backing toward it.
“Go for your life,” Ellis muttered, abruptly dropping her hands and unzipping one of her bags. “I’m not fighting you for it.”
I ignored the tightness in her voice and stepped inside the bathroom, flicking on the light. The tiles were dated, the fixtures old, but whatever. It would do. We only had to sleep here and attempt to bathe.
I turned toward the mirror and screamed.
A blood-curdling shriek tore from my throat as a black spider scuttled across the glass, startled by the sound. I froze, face-to-face with one of my biggest phobias.
Within seconds, Ellis came rushing in, panic in her eyes as she looked at me.
“What?” she shouted, her cheeks red.
I pointed as I continued shrieking. She followed my finger and let out a screech of her own when she saw what I was pointing at. She bolted into the hallway, doing an awkward twist-and-jig as she recoiled. Liv popped up behind her.
“Get it, Liv!” Ellis yelled. “You can kill it!”
“Nuh-uh!” Liv shouted, a look of pure disgust on her face. “I’m dead. I can’t go around killing things. The irony isn’t lost on me!”
“You could slam cabinets and play music in my uncle’s house!” I shouted, outrage rising. “You can touch things—move things—so kill the spider!”
“No!” Liv snapped, folding her arms. “I’m not killing anything.”
“Okay!” Ellis yelled suddenly. “Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it!”
I stared in amazement as she yanked off her shoe, grimacing as her sock-clad foot met the questionable motel carpet, and then, in what felt like slow motion, I realized what was about to happen. But it was already too late.
Ellis flung herself into the bathroom, brandishing her shoe like a sledgehammer. She spun, brought her arm around, and slammed the shoe down hard on the spider.
Which was still on the mirror.
The glass shattered instantly.
Ellis screamed louder than either of us had before, stumbling backward and crashing into me. We tumbled into the tiny, tiled shower cubicle in a tangled mess of limbs and frantic breathing.
Silence fell as the last of the glass shards clattered to the floor.
Ellis was practically in my lap, one hand braced against the shower wall. We both stared wide-eyed at the broken mirror, our chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath and process the last thirty seconds of chaos.
