Page 61 of Every Time I Go on Vacation, Someone Dies

I wish she’d rip off the Band-Aid, though, and just tell me.

Because the suspense is… wait for it… killing me.

I watch the door as the other authors trickle on one by one, no one sitting together except for Connor and Isabella. They take a row across the aisle from us. Connor shoots me a look, then wraps his arm around her and they start to kiss.

Because what’s a better way to distract yourself from your imminent murder than to suck face with a beautiful girl, am I right?

I turn away in disgust. I can’t believe Isabella’s staying on this trip after this morning, but she clearly doesn’t make the best choices.

And okay, okay, I made the same choice when I was her age.

Like, exactly the same one.

I shouldn’t judge. But judgment’s kind of my thing, and it’s a hard function to turn off.73 Maybe when I get back to LA I’ll go to one of those personal-improvement groups the creatives in my neighborhood are trying to get me to join.

“Not the sex-cult one,”74 they always say, like that’s going to alleviate my concerns about joining some other kind of cult.

“It’s about two hours to Pompeii,” Harper says.

“What?”

“That’s how long you’ll have to be on the bus in total.”

“Okay.”

“Is that not what you were worried about?”

I start to laugh because even though Harper is as close to me as a person can be, she can’t see into the labyrinth of my mind.

I wish I couldn’t either.75

“Honestly?” I say. “I was thinking about maybe joining a cult when I got home.”

“What?”

“It feels easier, you know? Let someone else make all my decisions for me. Since I keep making terrible ones myself.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“Sort of?”

“El, no.”

I try to stretch out my legs, but there’s not enough room. “I wouldn’t give them my money.”

“You’re screwing with me.”

“I’m not Connor.”

Her face falls, but before I can say anything, Sylvie comes up the stairs dressed in another flowing mix of skirt and long-sleeved kaftan and grabs the mic from a stand next to the driver. “How is everyone this morning? Another day, another tour, yes? Ah, there are my BookFace Ladies. And Miss Eleanor, the reason we are all here.76 Buongiorno!”

I can feel twenty-eight pairs of eyes on me as I raise my hand and wave.

Is that disappointment I see on their faces?

If only I could hide my face with a book.

“Did you enjoy your time in Roma, Miss Eleanor?”