Page 143 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
Her grin only widened. “To take the roof off.”
Liv let out a loud whoop, smacking the back of Ellis’s seat. “Yes! Finally. I’ve waited for this moment!”
I blinked at Ellis in disbelief. “Really?”
“It’s almost sacrilege to drive across the desert with the roof still on, don’t you think?”
She didn’t wait for my answer—just climbed out and got to work on the latches.
I followed her, amusement bubbling up as I rounded the car to meet her on the other side. We worked in quiet coordination, our fingers brushing. She was so warm. Everything about her exuded warmth.
She worked the latches effortlessly, then darted back to the driver’s side, hitting a button I’d never paid much attention to. With a gentle mechanical hiss, the roof folded backward and disappeared.
It was as if the entire world opened up.
As I climbed back into the car, I noticed the sky was suddenly everywhere—blue and burning and infinitely beautiful. The wind swooped in immediately, as if it had been waiting all this time for permission. My hair spun loose from the space buns, and the sun hit my skin like a golden spotlight.
Ellis slid her sunglasses farther up her nose, gripped the wheel, cranked the volume, and shifted the car into gear.
“Liv,” she called over her shoulder. “Song request?”
Liv screeched with feral excitement, rising to rest on her knees, gripping both our headrests as she looked out toward the horizon.
“‘Dog Days Are Over!’”
Ellis nodded, tapped through her phone, found the song, and hit play.
The first beats filled the space, the sound exactly how I imagined Ellis’s heart would sound as it beat. Slow, gentle, and building. Florence’s voice joined the music and Ellis hit the gas just as Liv began to sing. The car surged forward, launching us back onto the desert road like it had been waiting to run free all this time.
The wind was in Ellis’s hair, light copper strands whipping across her shoulders—tangled, wild, and free. Sunlight danced in her eyes. She had one hand on the wheel instead of her usual two-handed death grip, and she looked alive.
None of this was a performance. It wasn’t a play at being alive or a pretend version of joy. This was real. Authentic. A spur-of-the-moment surrender to the now—a moment that mattered to Liv and one Ellis was all in for.
I couldn’t stop staring as she and Liv sang, their voices off-key and pitchy but vibrant—tinged with a tremoring thrill that made me join in without thinking.
The desert blurred around us as Ellis drove faster than she usually dared. The road was quiet and barren, void of any other life—just us and our chorusing voices tearing through the silence. Florence wailed through the speakers, and we wailed with her. Liv drummed on the backs of our seats as she sang, shaking her wild pink hair.
I watched as Liv rose to her feet in the backseat, her hair flaring out behind her, arms flailing in the wind before stretching out—steady—as if she were flying.
Ellis was laughing now, mid-song, and the sound was real and loud and brilliant. She glanced over at me, and our eyes met.
I felt it so deep within me that my hands shook—that gentle, devastating pull toward her. As if she was my gravity now. And as the wind roared around us, my heart ached and soared all at once. She gripped my free hand and squeezed, then tore her attention back to the road, belting out the song with Liv like it was the only thing that mattered.
The dog days did feel like they were over, I realized. As I sang along with the two girls while we headed toward Arizona, Ellis drove with a confidence that told me she was ready for whatever came next.
And I would follow her anywhere she wanted to take us.
When I lookedup from my iPad as Ellis pulled the car over, my eyes landed on several white-looking teepee things—except they looked like they were made of concrete. And there were loadsof them. I glanced at the motel sign, then at Ellis, and raised a brow.
“We’re staying here?” I asked, blinking at the row of cone-shaped structures.
Ellis grinned, and Liv clapped her hands from the backseat.
“Oh my god,” Liv gushed. “Teepee’s! I am so deceased right now.”
I shared a look with Ellis.
“There were a few left when I booked us yesterday,” she said, getting out of the car and heading to the trunk. We both grabbed our bags and set them on the ground before tackling the soft top, securing it back into place.
