Kate’s in charge of the driving, because America is more used to kicking holes in the universe when she wants to get places, and they’re trying to do this cliché properly. America complains about the slowness of the journey and makes obnoxious playlists using Kate’s iPod and leans her long legs on the dashboard until Kate nearly crashes at least three times because thighs, but she also takes endless pictures of the trip.
Billy and Teddy and David and Loki like various Instagram pictures of Kate yawning over the steering wheel, dirty hair piled up on top of her head, tacky rhinestone sunglasses picked up from a gas station hiding her eyes; pictures of America posing next to the ridiculous highway attractions they keep finding (World’s Longest Length of Floss This Way), of the two of them taking a selfie of themselves in a shitty motel with cotton candy and cheap beer, Kate pressing her lips into America’s cheek, America scowling badly for the camera.
These aren’t all of it, of course: there’s the fights on the side of the road with a flat and no charge left in either of their cell phones, and the bickering that leads to bruises, and the endless hot afternoons ignoring each other while pretending the talk show radio hosts are their new best friends, and the nights sleeping in the car when they can’t find a motel, America’s hair in Kate’s face, Kate’s elbow in America’s ribs.
It’s the best trip ever, basically.