Page 115 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
I hadn’t… I hadn’t expected to say so much. Reveal so much. I just felt like I had to. I had to make Dove understand why—why… I wasn’t sure what I was trying to make her understand, but she needed context. Alexis had been locked deep in me all these years, and since I’d told Dove about her, it felt like something had cracked open inside me.
And Dove?
Just knowing she was on the other side of that pillow wall, her voice so soft, so grounding and present… it felt like a safety net I didn’t know I could trust until I was already falling. And now, it felt as if I were hurtling down to earth.
I peeked back at her.
How could she look so calm? Surely the spiral was written all over my face, and I was definitely overthinking everything, just like she said I would. It bothered me how well she knew me… and warmed me all at once. I had no idea what to do with any of this. Surely her mind had to be racing?
I looked back down at my phone and huffed silently, the words on my screen catching my eye.
Camping for Dummies.
Camping in Texas.
Watch Out for the Armadillos.
I grimaced at the subheading on the webpage before saying aloud, “Did you guys know that armadillos can carry leprosy?”
Liv made a noise in the backseat that sounded like a shriek of panic before it cut off abruptly, likely realizing she was dead and this fun fact didn’t impact her in the slightest.
Dove, however, didn’t miss a beat.
“Thank you, Ellis, for that completely necessary and not at all horrifying fact. I feel much better.”
“Listen, if I had to know about it, so did you.” I scrolled farther down the list of potential dangers. “It’s like, at the top of this list of camping hazards in Texas.”
Dove’s rummaging hand in her sour worm bag paused for a moment. “You—you googled a list of camping dangers?”
“Wouldn’t you?” I asked, shocked at her lack of concern. “We’re going to be camping in the Texas wilderness, thanks to Liv—”
“Literally not the wilderness,” Liv cut in breezily. “It’s the Midpoint. It’s a human-controlled campground. We aren’t goingto get leprosy. My God, it’s too early to be talking about armadillo diseases.”
Dove snorted loudly and went back to rummaging. “Tell that to our walking encyclopedia of doom over here.”
I rolled my eyes and returned to the list on my phone.
Tent—we could get a cheap pop-up tent and avoid the whole pitching fiasco.
Sleeping bags—two.
Extra blanket.
Two pillows.
Torch.
Toilet paper.
Food.
The warning bells of money started to ring in my ears.
Suddenly, Liv leaned forward between the seats, her chin perched on the edge of mine. “You know, I was going to be famous. Like, real famous. Red carpets. Hit songs. Articles ripping into my outfits for the Met Gala. I was going to have it all. I had my Grammy speech all planned out.”
Dove grinned. “What was the award for?”
“Best New Artist, obviously.” Liv rolled her eyes and sighed. “Probably Album of the Year too, let’s be honest. My aesthetic was going to be sparkly but damaged, you know? Like, think Kesha meets Lana Del Rey, but with more eyeliner.”
