Chapter 21
ELLIS
Iliked Albuquerque, I decided as I took my third sip of coffee, adjusting myself on the faded vinyl seat in the diner we were in for breakfast. It wasn’t chic or fancy, but it was comfortable, and the coffee was the best I’d had so far on the route.
I was finishing my bowl of fruit, pills had been taken, and we were—shockingly—ahead of schedule for once.
Everything felt safe. Stable.
Dove sat across from me with her legs curled under her, the picture of ease and comfort—even though I was fast learning she very often wasn’t either of those things.
Her hair was back up in her space buns, the sight of them endearing—more put together than they usually were.
Her lips were curled into a grin as she looked down at her phone, watching my latest upload.
She was wearing an oversized black T-shirt and a pair of shorts, along with her beaten-to-hell Converse. She looked the same as always, and yet she looked… she looked so different all at once.
Something fluttered too sharply and too fast in my chest, and I nearly choked on the piece of pineapple I’d just plopped into my mouth.
She glanced up and caught me looking, and her smile softened, matching the expression in her eyes as she hit me with that warm, lazy, Dove-filled glow.
I swallowed.
I felt so close to her, and it wasn’t just because of last night—not the things she’d shared with me, not just because of that insanely, mind-numbingly good kiss she’d given me. It was… it was just everything, all at once. And it was as exciting as it was overwhelming.
I glanced at Liv, who was seated beside her, bent over a bunch of sugar packets, brows furrowed in deep concentration as she stacked them into a pyramid, tongue poking out as she focused.
It looked like it was leaning slightly to the left, and I made sure not to bump the table as I set down my fork.
Then my phone rang.
The loudness of it pierced the air in a way no one had been ready for, and I jumped—along with Dove, whose curled-up legs smacked into the underside of the table, sending the sugar packets flying as they tumbled from their structure. She hissed.
I looked down at the screen.
Grandad.
“Hey!” I answered quickly, surprise evident in my voice as I brought the phone to my ear. “Grandad!”
“Ellis!” His voice boomed so loudly down the line that Dove snorted in surprise. Liv continued to stare in silent dismay at her sugar packets. “How’s the road treating you, kid? How’s the car?”
“It’s, uh, good,” I said, cutting a glance across the table. Dove raised a brow, and my cheeks flushed as I cleared my throat. “Really good, actually.”
Dove’s face broke into a smirk, and Liv echoed it with an obnoxious snort.
“You sound happy, Ellis,” Grandad said, his voice softer now on the other end. “I like it. It suits you, kid. Now, listen here—can you check your emails while you’re on the phone with me?”
I frowned. “Wait, why?”
Dove perked up at my tone.
“Just do it, kid.”
I frowned again and put the phone on speaker before navigating to my emails. Dove leaned across the table with interest, and I could feel Liv’s eyes on us as she waited.
One unread message. No subject line. Just forwarded.
Live the air experience and see Albuquerque from the sky!
Two tickets for a ride on a hot air balloon… that departs in less than two hours.
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Grandad—what—”
His loud chuckle cut me off. “Listen here, Ellis. You don’t go to Albuquerque and not ride in a hot air balloon.”
Dove’s eyes widened, and Liv squeaked.
“But—but we have a schedule,” I stammered hastily. “We… we have to hit the road for Flagstaff… we—I—”
“Schedules are nonsense,” he said, cutting me off again. “Life sure as shit doesn’t wait for them, and neither should you. Now, no buts on this. Move your plans, take your friend into the sky, and call me afterward so I can assure your mother you didn’t fall out and die.”
“Grandad, I—”
“Love you, kid.”
The line went dead.
I stared down at my now black screen, gaping, then looked at Dove, who was watching me with wide-eyed interest.
“A hot air balloon?” she asked, excitement coloring her voice as she bounced in her seat. “He—he just got you some tickets? Just like that?”
“This is the best day of my afterlife,” Liv said, clapping her hands together. “This was so out of budget for me when I was alive.”
“It was out of budget for us,” I told her, still staring at the now-illuminated screen.
“We’re going in a hot air balloon,” Liv said, her voice sing-songy as she scooped up her sugar packets. “We’re going in a hot air balloon.”
“This is so cool,” Dove said with a grin, slapping her palms against the table. “Like, shit. This is crazy.”
My heart thumped against my ribs as I set down the phone and pushed my bowl away, trying to catch my breath around the rising tide of nerves and excitement building inside me—now tangled in my throat, making it hard to think.
To breathe.
“Have you scattered Margaret’s ashes yet?” Liv asked, eyes wide. “’Cause throwing them over the side of the balloon would be awesome.”
Dove shook her head. “No, I did it last night before we got back on the tram. Anyway, I doubt the people who captain the balloon would be cool with me doing that.”
“Bummer,” Liv pouted. “Imagine showering Albuquerque with remains.”
“You have some issues,” I said, tapping the table. “Come on, we have to get ready for this thing. It’s going to set us behind a day, just so you know.”
Dove shrugged and slid out of the booth, stretching before lazily flinging an arm around my waist and tugging me into her side.
“Another extra day with you, then?” she said into my ear, before pressing a kiss to the outer shell.
I flushed, glancing around. The café was mostly empty. No one was watching us.
“Ugh,” Liv groaned behind us. “Get a room.”
“We can’t,” Dove said sweetly, as my stomach somersaulted at Liv’s words. “You’re always in it.”
I wasn’t sure what was more off-brand for me, that I was standing inside the basket of a balloon, willingly putting my life in danger, or that I hadn’t googled the accident statistics yet.
I’d been tempted—my fingers twitching ever so slightly toward my phone at least half a dozen times as we made our way to the launch site.
It was muscle memory. A dusty compulsion, really—born from that desperate need to feel in control of something far outside it.
I had resisted, distracting myself by watching how good Dove looked behind the wheel of my car—the way her arm lazily rested on the window, her other hand loosely grasping the wheel.
The sun cast a warm, golden glow across her skin, and her sunglasses perched low on the bridge of her nose.
It had helped.
Living carefully had always been my baseline.
I followed instructions to a T. I colored inside the lines.
I planned things down to the pill. But the past two weeks had slowly loosened that grip.
And now, this balloon ride… it felt like the ultimate surrender.
I wondered what Dr. Mathers would make of it all.
I wasn’t sure what I even made of it.
“Okay,” said a bright voice, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. “My name is Gia, and I’ll be your pilot today.”
I turned to her, taking in her strong frame and impressive height, sun-kissed skin, and the messy braid that dangled down her back.
Freckles were scattered across her cheeks, and she wore a casual kind of confidence that almost had me trusting her—while simultaneously making me want to demand her credentials on the spot.
She leaned against the wicker basket as the balloon rippled above us like a sleeping beast, the burner flaring occasionally with a deep hiss.
I swallowed.
“Now, there are just a few things we have to cover before liftoff,” Gia continued, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke.
“Number one, this basket does not have seatbelts, and if that makes you nervous, don’t worry.
No one ever falls out. Well, only if they’re stupid.
That being said, please hold onto the internal handles during takeoff and landing, okay? They’re here for a reason.”
My fingers curled tighter around the handle I was already holding, and I felt Dove laugh silently beside me.
“Number two, please do not lean over the edge when we’re in the sky. The view is going to be breathtaking, but trust me when I say you can take it all in without dangling your phone or limbs over the side.”
My eyes immediately flicked to Liv, who was sitting on the edge of the basket, her legs kicking through the open air like a carefree child on a swing. When she caught my eye, she winked—then feigned falling, leaning backward with a look of mock terror, her mouth open in an inaudible scream.
I tore my gaze back to Gia, not before shooting Liv a glare.
“Three, landing can be bumpy. That doesn’t mean we’re crashing,” Gia said, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ll let you know when we’re close. All we do is bend our knees slightly and brace. Do not lock your legs and try to avoid screaming if you can.”
Dove nodded beside me, a bright beam on her face, exuding that uninhibited joy that always seemed to radiate out of her.
She was leaning casually against the basket now, her arm slung behind me, resting lightly on the wicker.
I could feel her arm graze my back whenever she moved or swayed, and I could feel the heat of her.
The warmth of her presence seemed to bleed through the air between us. It was both steadying and terrifying.
I swallowed again and diverted my attention.
We had already filmed a video outside the balloon for my channel, where I’d forced a grin that slowly became genuine as I told the audience I was about to do something wildly out of character and against every instinct I had.
We’d even managed to capture a Polaroid in front of the balloon—Dove’s arm wrapped around my waist in a way that made my breath catch.