Olivia positions herself at the end of the driveway and launches into the Ewok Celebration Dance. Her arms sway like the limbs of a tall tree in the wind. As she spins, her sundress flares out, revealing its vibrant colors like a sudden burst of sunlight. Olivia's feet mimic the playful steps of Ewoks, like when they were celebrating their victory over the Empire, lightly hopping over the pebbles on the ground.

My grin stretches so wide that it threatens to cramp my cheeks. She playfully tugs at the sides of her yellow sundress, executing an impromptu curtsey, and then breaks into a giggle as she skips toward our waiting car. With a graceful lean, she plants a moist kiss on Blue's cheek, leaving behind a vivid pink lipstick mark that he promptly wipes away with the back of his hand. Then, she turns her attention to me and teases, "Hey, Evvy, loving the Michael Jackson hat," pushing the brim over my nose.

I pull the hat back into position. "Thanks," I reply, my fingers fiddling with the rim. "It's a fedora."

Olivia and Blue burst into laughter and then share a moment of silence, looking at me with playful amusement.

"Bruno Mars wears one too," I add, furrowing my brow.

"Alright, Frank Sinatra, can we get goin'?" Blue says.

Olivia, still leaning over my shoulder, waves her phone in front of Blue's face. "Can we pleaaaaase pick up Cody on our way?" she implores.

"Nah, we're not picking up Cody," Blue responds as he glances over his shoulder, guiding the car from the driveway onto the road.

Olivia reclines in her seat, arms folded tightly across her chest, a vivid pout adorning her face. "But why?"

Blue takes a moment to consider his response. "'Cause she's fuckn' anoying. Now, can we hit the road?"

We continue down the winding asphalt. Blue reaches for a pack of cigarettes from the glove box, removing one and expertly screwing it between his lips as he navigates with his knees. He offers the box to me, but I dismiss it with a wave. Olivia, accepts a cigarette and Blue's lighter. She cracks the window open, exhaling her smoke outside.

I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder. Olivia, has aviator sunglasses perched on her nose, leans back in her seat, her dark shades reflecting the endless road. The radio, its knobs worn smooth from countless tune changes, crackles to life and fills the car with classic rock. As the Astra's tires meet the open road, they make a soft, harmonious connection with the asphalt. The world beyond the windows transforms into a moving canvas, with fields of wheat and corn stretching endlessly to the horizon.

As I peer out the side rear window, I notice Olivia engrossed in her own little spectacle. She throws her head back in laughter, her eyes sparkling with mirth as we chat. "I'm surprised you didn't call 'gunshot'," I remark, a sly grin forming on my lips.

Blue, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, snorts. "Shotgun," he corrects me. "Fuckwit."

Olivia leans over and lightly smacks the back of Blue's head. "Don't be rude."

Blue turns his attention to me. "Do me a favor," he says. "Grab my phone from the center console. Check for messages, but don't say nothn'."

Olivia leans forward. "What messages?"

"No messages, babe," Blue says.

"But you just said..." Olivia begins.

"Don't worry about it," Blue tells her. "It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises, Wally," Olivia declares.

I follow Blue's request and retrieve his phone from the console. "There's a message on here," I confirm.

Blue grins at Olivia through the rearview mirror. "The fuck you just call me?"

I unlock his phone because I know the pass code. The message reads: "Gas station on route 1240. 12!"

I open my mouth to tell Blue what the message says, but he waves me off. "Don't worry about it. Just reply." He watches Olivia through the review mirror. "Love ya."

I shrug and hit the reply button. I type. "Ok." And I ask Blue if the message has something to do with the 'E' he had mentioned earlier.

Olivia's interest peaks, and she leans forward, gently squeezing my shoulder. I wish she would keep her hand there. "Evvy," she says in a honeyed voice, lifting her sunglasses onto her head and pouting her lip. "Tell me what's going on, please."

I look at blue. He shoots me a sharp warning glare. 

"Sorry," I tell Olivia. 

She reclines in her chair, clearly frustrated. "Fine, then. Stuff ya," she mutters, fixated on the view outside the window. "Stuff the both of you."