Chapter 7 Ellis #2
“Liv saw it,” I muttered. “She’s lucky I had film. You have to special order this stuff. It was my grandmother’s camera. She gave it to me.”
“Ah,” Dove said knowingly, as we both ignored the sound of Liv cheering loudly behind us, twirling around a street pole.
“So, how does it work?” the woman asked, clearly beginning to regret having stopped.
I gingerly handed over the camera, not loving the idea of a total stranger handling something so precious, but what choice did I have?
“Point, click, let it whir,” I said, briefly guiding her fingers. “Um... please be careful with it. It’s irreplaceable.”
She grunted.
Dove and I moved into place, standing side by side, each holding our coffee.
It was awkward. There was too much space between us to even convince the woman we were friends.
Then Liv popped back up—despite not being visible—threw her arms around our shoulders, and yanked us in closer, her head poking between us.
“Quick!” Liv gasped with delight. “Say something cheesy!”
“Something cheesy,” I muttered dryly.
The shutter clicked.
The picture slid out with a soft whir, and I rushed forward, thanking the woman. I immediately handed my coffee back to Dove before retrieving the photo, tucking it into the darkness of an inner pocket in my bag, then carefully placing the camera back inside.
“Thanks,” we both said as the woman hurried off.
It was probably the last time she’d stop for strangers on the street.
We turned to find Liv hanging upside down from the signpost, as if she were performing on a stage.
Dove sipped her coffee more slowly now, a thoughtful expression tugging at her features. “You ever think about what she’s asking us to do? Like, really think about it?”
“Every second since I left your shop,” I admitted. “Of course, Liv came with me, so it was hard not to.”
We started walking back, knowing Liv would either follow us or pop up randomly when she was ready. My coffee had cooled just enough to be pleasant now, and as we reached the car, I paused for half a beat to admire the Mustang, the way the sun gleamed off the cherry-red paint.
I set my coffee on the roof and began tugging off my sweater. The cropped black tank I wore underneath ended just above the waistband of my jeans, showing only a sliver of pale skin. The front came up high enough to hide the scar from surgery.
“Time to go,” I declared, unlocking the car, grabbing my coffee, and climbing inside. A yawn left my lips. “We’ve taken the picture in front of the sign. Now it’s time to get on the road.”
“Nope!” Liv said, popping into view in the back seat like some deranged jack-in-the-box.
“You need to film your intro, Ellis—y’know, for the TikTok.
Do you really want the world thinking all you film are sponsored product videos?
‘Crying under a weighted blanket is better than a thousand-thread-count duvet’… come on.”
“What do you mean, film an intro?” I demanded, whipping around to face her.
“Trip kickoff vlog!” Liv announced, clapping her hands. “Go, go, go!”
I pressed my palms over my face and tried to breathe, but the air rushed out of me like a half-filled balloon left to deflate.
“No use arguing,” Dove muttered beside me. “She’ll win. She’s got us cornered with eternal haunting.”
I gritted my teeth, dug my phone out of my bag, flipped the camera to front-facing, and perched it on the steering wheel. Desperation to get it over with consumed me. I checked the angle. Good enough. Then gave myself a once-over. Also good enough.
My eyes were only halfway screaming existential breakdown today.
I hit record.
“Hi, guys!” I said into the lens, forcing a smile, the kind that had become so easy to fake. “I know I’ve been a little MIA the last few days. Thank you for all your DMs. You guys are super sweet!”
A pause.
I exhaled and held onto Camera Ellis, all while the little red recording dot blinked back at me like an angry countdown.
“So, um, a bit of a shift in my usual content,” I began, bringing my hands together. “I’m going on a road trip. No, this was not planned. And yes, I am still in the throes of processing the fact that I’m voluntarily leaving the comfort of my home and driving across the country with...”
I trailed off, faltering.
I looked at Dove, taking in her silly space buns and warm smile.
“A friend,” I said, turning back to the camera, deciding that not telling the full truth might reassure my followers I still had some semblance of sanity.
“It’s all very random. I blame my therapist. So I’ll keep you guys updated as we go.
We’re at the starting point of Route 66 in downtown Chicago, ready to hit the road and head to Springfield! ”
Liv cheered and clapped loudly, and I had to resist the urge to raise my voice over her, given that the people on the other end of the camera couldn’t hear her. Just me, shouting at no one.
“I’ll try to film a little each day and string this thing together, posting when I can. Wish me luck. I’ll need it!”
I tapped the stop button. The smile fell from my face as I slumped back in my seat, Liv howling with laughter behind me.
“Who the hell was that?” Dove asked, and I blinked over at her.
“Huh?”
“That was... I’ve never seen anything like it,” Dove murmured, her eyes bright with curiosity as she looked from the camera to me. “Chirpy Ellis. Interesting.”
“Don’t call me chirpy,” I growled, snatching my phone and starting the car.
“You were definitely chirpy,” Liv added from the back. “Let’s go! Get some music on. How long till Springfield again? I forget. We’ve got so many fun activities planned, Dove. Get ready, we should show her the schedule, Ellis. Also—”
I tuned her out as I plugged in my phone and hit play on the first thing that popped up, trying to shake off Dove’s comment, as “Bad Love” by Dehd filled the car.
The sooner we got on the move, the sooner we got rid of this ghost.
Thirty-five minutes.
That’s how long we’d been on the road, and Dove was already shifting restlessly like a bored toddler.
She’d flicked through the playlist, stopping songs halfway and skipping to new ones, which was annoying and had me gritting my teeth while Liv sang off-key in the back, shouting “Remix!” whenever Dove changed songs.
The road blurred beneath us in steady, endless lines, and I kept my black aviators firmly wedged on my face, praying to every saint I could think of for the patience to survive the rest of this trip.
I glanced at the time on the dash and grimaced, my eyes darting quickly to the seat where I knew my travel binder was tucked beneath Dove’s chair. Then I looked back at the road, sucking on the inside of my lip as I resisted the urge to pull over and check it one more time.
“You’re fidgety,” Dove said suddenly.
“Me?” I asked, incredulous. “Are you kidding? You’ve changed sitting positions ten times already.”
“You’ve been tapping the steering wheel and smacking your lips together incessantly since we left,” Dove called out, and I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I muttered stiffly, pressing down a little harder on the gas.
“She’s stressed about her pretty schedule,” Liv drawled lazily from the back. She’d finally stopped singing and was now lying across the seat, legs hanging out the window. “It’s under your seat, Dove, if you’re interested.”
I groaned.
Dove immediately leaned forward and rummaged around before yanking out the thick black folder with a triumphant look on her face.
“You made a binder?” she asked incredulously, running her hand over the cover like it was a sacred artifact.
“It’s not a binder,” I defended with a glower. “It’s a folder. A slim folder. With guided, uh, notes.”
“Guided notes?” Dove snorted. “Ellis, this is a travel dossier. Holy shit, is this laminated?”
“It’s weather-resistant,” I muttered, gripping the wheel as Liv burst into laughter in the back seat.
Dove flipped a page. Then another.
“Damn. Ellis, did you create an actual master plan for this trip?”
“No.”
“Ellis, this has color coding. It has fuel stop projections and highlighted traffic alerts. Oh my God, it has a weather key. Who are you? You did lodging research for every city between here and California.”
“It’s not like it has to be followed exactly,” I mumbled. “It’s just… some structure. Anyway, I built it off Liv’s original schedule.”
“Yeah,” Dove said, snickering. “Liv doesn’t strike me as the type to color code.”
“Yeah, that’s not me,” Liv said flatly. “Do I look like a girl who uses aqua to highlight a title?”
“Look, someone has to make sure we don’t end up lost in the middle of Arkansas with a dead phone and no gas,” I snapped, feeling my cheeks flush.
Dove blinked and closed the binder. “We aren’t even going through Arkansas.”
“Exactly,” I said matter-of-factly. “Because of the plan.”
Dove gave me the long look you give someone when you’re deciding whether to push the red button or let it go.
“Okay, so you’re a little terrifying,” she said with a nervous laugh. “It’s like… like if a Virgo and an Excel spreadsheet had a baby.”
“I’m not a Virgo,” I said, my tone clipped.
I turned up the stereo. I didn’t register the song, it was just noise, something to drown out the car and give me a few moments of peace inside my own head.
If we drove nonstop to Springfield, we could make it in roughly three hours. As long as neither Dove nor I needed a bathroom break—and Liv didn’t spot something shiny she wanted to pull over for—I was silently crossing my fingers for a straight run.
“We’re stopping at the Gemini Giant, right?” Liv asked suddenly, her head popping up so fast I flinched, the car swerving slightly.
“No,” I snapped. “It’s not on the schedule.”
“It was on my schedule!” Liv growled, her outrage unmistakable.
“Oh! I know that thing!” Dove jumped in. “I want to get a photo with him for my Instagram.”