Page 22 of A Dead Girl's Guide to Living
“Oh, look at you! My daughter is flirting on dating apps!”
I groaned loudly and rubbed my eyes. “Please calm down.”
She ignored me completely.
“This is so fun! What are you going to say to her? You should compliment her first. She’s adorable. And look at her little dog!You like dogs, Ellis! What’s your strategy here? Oh, I have so many ideas for you—”
“I hate this,” I muttered, burying my face in my hands. “I hate this.”
“Come on,” Mom urged gleefully. “Say hi!”
I peeked at my laptop, my stomach twisting as I tried to take a steadying breath. I could do this. It was just homework, nothing more. The entire course of my life wasn’t going to change because of one stupid assignment and a dating app.
Grow up, Ellis, I told myself gruffly, adjusting in my chair.
Hi.
I sat aloneat a small table, watching condensation slide down my glass of water, wondering how the hell I had gone from messaging “Hi” to someone to, a day later, sitting in a café that was far too trendy for me, waiting for the girl I had matched with to show up. I wanted to pass out, vomit, maybe, and next week, when I saw Dr. Mason, I was going to unload so much trauma from this one moment that I’d keep her busy for at least a month unpacking it all.
I thought this stuff was supposed to take ages. That’s what all the Reddit forums had said the moment my mother left me alone and I started getting insight from other people in the online dating world.
You were supposed to go round and round with meaningless conversation and then maybe go on a date and get ghosted.
I bit my lip. Maybe that’s just what happened in the straight world of online dating.
I glanced around, taking in the artsy vibe of the café Katie had picked. Local paintings lined the walls and I knew they werelocal thanks to all the signage that said they were. A chalkboard menu stood proudly with fairy lights draped around it. Dim lighting glowed over the space, and a song played softly in the background, one I swore I knew but couldn’t quite place.
This was so stupid. Why was I doing this to myself? I could have lied to Dr. Mason. I could have said I’d gone on a date, even though I hadn’t.
No. I couldn’t.
I was a useless liar and too anal-retentive. When someone gave me a task, I had to complete it.
Well, at least I’d ticked the “Friends” box when signing up, I reminded myself, though it offered little comfort. Katie would have seen that. She’d know I wasn’t looking to date.
The bell above the door jingled, and my heart spiked as I glanced up.
A girl entered the café, and I knew immediately it was her. That same short, curly hair was gathered atop her head, and once again, she wore overalls—mustard-colored this time—with a deep red sweater underneath. She wore glasses, something that hadn’t been in her profile. They were thin and round and glinted under the light.
I noticed her black combat boots and the way her overalls were rolled just above them.
She was fashionable, I decided. Aesthetically, she had her own style.
I glanced down at myself.
Blue mom jeans, a crop top that wasn’t cropped enough to show skin, and a pair of white sneakers. My red hair was tied back in a boring ponytail.
I had never really developed a style.
She looked exactly like her pictures, which somehow made this worse. I couldn’t even get out of this by accusing her of catfishing.
I didn’t know if I was meant to call out to her or wait for her to spot me, but I watched as she nodded to the barista—who grinned and waved—and my cheeks flushed. Did she know people here? Were we going to be under a microscope this entire date?
No. Not a date.
Her eyes landed on me, and she smiled wide. Genuinely.
I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
