Chapter 26- Oliver
The sun isn’t even fully up yet, but I’m already outside with a bucket of soap and a sponge, staring at my car like it’s about to be inspected by NASA.
It has to be perfect.
Not because Ellie cares — she’d ride with me in a rust bucket and still smile — but because I care.
Because this is our first trip together.
Because I want everything to feel right for her.
I scrub the windows, wipe down the dashboard, vacuum every corner. Moony sits on the driveway watching me like she’s judging my technique.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I mutter. “You’re getting a bath next.”
She tilts her head, offended.
I’m wiping down the backseat when I hear the front door open.
“Oliver?” Mom calls, stepping outside with her coffee. “Why are you cleaning your car at seven in the morning?”
I straighten up, pushing my hair back. “Trip prep.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh! The camping trip with Ellie?”
I nod, and she lights up like I just told her she won the lottery.
“Oh my goodness, that’s adorable,” she says, practically bouncing. “You two are going to have the best time. Do you need snacks? Blankets? Bug spray? A chaperone?”
“Mom,” I groan, laughing. “Please.”
She sips her coffee, still smiling. “Are you going to bring her flowers?”
I pause.
“I was thinking about it,” I admit. “Do you think I should?”
She looks at me like I just asked if water is wet.
“Absolutely,” she says. “Girls remember things like that forever.”
I nod, filing that away. Flowers. Definitely flowers.
Mom goes back inside, humming, and I return to packing — double-checking everything like I’m preparing for a survival mission.
Blankets?
Check.
Snacks?
Check.
First-aid kit?
Check.
Extra hoodie?
Check.
Another extra hoodie?
Also check.
I zip up the bag, then sit on the edge of my bed for a second, letting the quiet settle around me.
It hits me then — how far I’ve come.
3 years ago, I didn’t want love.
Didn’t trust it.
Didn’t trust myself with it.
And now I’m packing for a weekend with the girl who made me believe in it again.
My phone buzzes.
It’s Ellie.
Ellie: Heyy handsome, I checked the weather. It’s gonna be chilly at night. Don’t forget a hoodie, okay? I don’t want you freezing.
I stare at the message for a full ten seconds, smiling like an idiot.
She thinks about me.
Worries about me.
Loves me in all the small ways that matter.
And somehow, that makes me fall for her even harder.
I text her back, then stand up and clap my hands once.
“Alright, Moony,” I say. “Your turn.”
She immediately tries to run.
“Nice try,” I laugh, scooping her up. “You’re getting a bath. You have to be clean and pretty for Ellie.”
Moony groans dramatically, but I carry her to the bathroom anyway. She’s going to smell like lavender oatmeal by the time I’m done.
And as I turn on the water, I can’t help thinking:
Tomorrow.
Just one more day until I’m in Starlace Hollow with the girl I love.
Moony gives me the exact look she gives the vet — betrayal mixed with dramatic suffering — the second I turn on the faucet.
The water warms, steam rising, and she slowly backs up like she thinks I won’t notice a seventy-pound pitbull trying to disappear behind the toilet.
“Moony,” I warn, pointing at the tub.
She freezes.
I swear she sighs.
“Come on,” I laugh, scooping her up even though she pretends she weighs five hundred pounds.
She groans — actually groans — but lets me lower her into the water.
The moment her paws touch the surface, she gives me the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Oh, don’t even start,” I say, grabbing the lavender oatmeal shampoo. “You roll in dirt every day. This is justice.”
I lather her up, rubbing behind her ears, down her back, under her collar. She relaxes slowly, her eyes half-closing like she hates how much she loves it.
“There you go,” I murmur. “Good girl.”
She leans her head against my arm, and something warm settles in my chest. This dog… she’s been with me through everything.
Every lonely night.
Every moment I thought I didn’t deserve anything good.
And now she’s going on a trip with me and the girl who changed everything.
I rinse her off, water splashing everywhere — including all over my shirt — and she shakes violently the second I lift her out of the tub.
“Moony!” I sputter, wiping my face. “Seriously?”
She trots away proudly, tail wagging like she just won a medal.
I grab a towel and follow her, drying her off as she wiggles happily.
“You’re impossible,” I tell her, rubbing her head. “But you’re gonna smell amazing, so Ellie’s gonna love you even more.”
Moony barks once, like she agrees.
I sit back on my heels, running a hand through my damp hair, and for a moment I just breathe.
Moony nudges my hand, and I scratch behind her ears.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m excited too.”
I’m folding the last hoodie into my bag when my phone buzzes again.
Ellie.
My heart does that stupid thing it always does — the warm flip, the soft ache, the “I can’t believe she’s mine” feeling.
I open her message.
Ellie: Can’t wait for tomorrow! Did you pack already?
Oliver: Me neither!
Oliver: *GIF of a person screaming out of excitement.
Oliver: *GIF of two ducks kissing
Oliver: And yep! Everything is ready, have you packed?
Ellie: Still picking a few more outfits!
Oliver: A few more outfits!? We are only going for two days.
Oliver: *Laughing emoji
Ellie: Your woman has to be prepared for any occasion.
Ellie: *GIF of a woman with a lot of suitcases.
Your woman.
My woman.
God… I love her.
Oliver: You’re right beautiful.
Ellie: Don’t forget to wake up early!!!
Oliver: *Screenshot of alarm, at 6:00 am, titled: Trip with my beautiful.
Ellie: I love you, Oliver. I mean it. Now let’s go to sleep, or else…
Ellie: *GIF of a woman chasing a guy.
Oliver: Yes, ma’am and, I love you more my beautiful.
Ellie: Good night, handsome.
Oliver: Good night, beautiful.
Oliver: *GIF of hearts floating around.
I stare at her last message for a long moment, smiling like a fool.
Moony hops onto the bed beside me, curling up against my leg.
I turn off the light, still smiling.
Tomorrow, everything begins.