Page 75 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
The first thing I noticed was the bed.
Theonebed.
“Oh,” I said flatly, pausing in the doorway.
“Oh,” Dove echoed.
We both stared at the single queen-sized bed, as if it might magically multiply if we waited long enough.
“Well,” Liv gasped dramatically behind us, “this is going to be fun.”
“Liv,” I warned.
Dove snorted and toed off her sneakers. “Look, we’re two adults. We can share a bed without it becoming a whole thing, right? I’ll keep thegayon my side of the bed, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I blinked, momentarily stunned. “What?”
She raised a brow at me like I’d just asked what air was. “Are you weirded out by sharing a bed because I’m a lesbian? You know, ’cause contrary to popular belief, we don’t just drop our pants over every cute girl we see.”
“What? No!” I blurted, heat rushing to my face as I tried not to get hung up on hercute girlline. “No—I mean, I don’t carethat you’re a lesbian. I mean,I’ma lesbian. I mean, like, I date women too... sometimes.” My voice trailed off quietly at the end, sounding so small as I thought back to that disastrous date.
Dove stared at me for a moment, lips parting slightly. “You—you date womensometimes?”
I winced at the wording, at how it made me sound unsure of myself, of the very foundation of my identity. “Well, I sure as shit don’t date men,” I said defensively, once again morphing into that blundering fool from the coffee shop.
Dove’s mouth twitched like she was fighting a smile. “You know what? That sounds like it needs to be on a T-shirt.”
I rubbed my temples and groaned. “Don’t give Liv ideas for road trip merch.”
Dove held up her hands in surrender, amusement still playing on her face. “Look, don’t make it awkward. I’m not judging you. I just wasn’t expecting it. You give off... straight girl with a color-coded planner energy, that’s all. Usually they come with some pretty-boy boyfriend and a Range Rover in their future.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I do have a color-coded planner.”
“I know,” Dove said with a sigh. “Anyway, that teaches me to stop judging appearances based on stereotypes. Look at that. Growth.”
“I stan it,” Liv chimed in with a light clap. “Also, I once kissed a girl at a party, so don’t leave me out of all the gay, okay?”
Dove rolled her eyes and looked at me. “Okay—you. Go shower and get into some dry clothes. I need to empty out my bag and dry my stuff.”
I nodded and grabbed my things. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked toward the bathroom, heart thudding for reasons I didn’t particularly want to examine.
I shut the door softly behind me and let out a long, steady breath.
When I emergedfrom the bathroom with my hair wrapped in a towel, wearing a comfortable pair of gray sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, I felt calmer. More centered. I had given myself a stern talking-to in the shower, and I felt better for it.
It took me half a second to realize both Dove and Liv were gone.
Dove’s duffel was perched on the small table, now empty, and her clothes were draped across every available surface. I blinked at the bag of ashes—dry and safe in the sandwich bag—and chose to ignore it. Instead, I moved toward the bed, where my own bag sat dry and untouched from the bad weather.
I pulled out my phone and my pill container, setting them both on the nightstand.
A text from Dove flashed on the screen, and I opened it.
Dove [6:35 p.m.]
Gone to get some food. Back soon.
Food.
