In truth, I thought the same thing. I really did wish Winona would just stick to one place. One time. Instead of us all just driving aimlessly around Canada until we got to Niagara Falls and then we had to hear her answer.

  Even then, what were we going to do on a reservation? Hardly the place for an impromptu concert, was it? Maybe mentally the image I had in mind of reservations was a sacred place where noise was discouraged, but I wasn’t sure. I would’ve liked Winona to fill me in, but never having been on a reservation before meant she was just as clueless about it as I was.

  I sighed. “Yeah, I understand, Benny.”

  “It’s Benjamin, not Benny.”

  I paused. Then I realised being spiteful like that didn’t suit me at all. “Sorry, Benjamin.”

  We drove on. Another two hours to go. This whole day felt like it had stretched further on than most. The famous maxim that things we enjoy seem to go by so fast rushed into my head. Not even having Winona at my side was enough to curb the relentless misery that had been this road trip so far.

  “Are you really going to go to Hollywood with this music video?” I said.

  Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the plan. I’ve built up a steady enough film reel, anyway. I just need someone in Tinseltown to take notice of me.”

  “What if it doesn’t work out?” I asked. It was a silly question. As much as I disliked Benjamin, I knew it was going to work out for him. Winona had told me all about the internships he’d been offered from Warner Bros., Paramount, and even Disney, so even if he royally screwed this up, he still had the fallback option of being Steven Spielberg’s coffee fetcher.

  “Well, if I couldn’t be a filmmaker, the next big thing was to be a professional wrestler,” he replied.

  I felt a light bulb go off over my head. I was still cautious, but I felt this could be our own little breakthrough between the houses of Connolly and Cohen.

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  “No way, me too!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes! Who’s your favourite wrestler?”

  “I was an Edgehead,” Benjamin smiled, “and Randy Orton was a close second.”

  Funny, those pompous, egotistical heels were exactly the two wrestlers I thought Benjamin would be a fan of.

  “Jeff Hardy for me,” I said. “Well, John Cena first. But after a while I disliked the whole Super Cena shtick and thought Jeff was a better face.”

  “That’s because he was more naturally over,” Benjamin said, moving the RV into another lane, “and because he had better feuds to work with.”

  “His CM Punk one is my favourite,” I replied.

  “Mine too,” Benjamin grinned. “I thought Punk’s drift to the dark side was worthy of an Emmy award. Did you know Freddie Prinze Jr. was writing for WWE around that time?”

  He had me beat there. That was one morsel of pro wrestling knowledge that had escaped me. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why did you name your dog after Triple H, by the way?”

  “I… don’t really know. Maybe because he looks like Triple H with his long, golden mane?”

  “Boys!” Felicity exclaimed, wrapping her arms around both of our shoulders. “As much as I would love to hear both of you prattle on about fake fighting, I want to know if we can make a pit stop?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m hungry.”

  “Isn’t the refrigerator stocked with food already?”

  “It’s filled with snacks, not food!”

  “Well, who was in charge of buying the stuff?” Benjamin quipped.

  “I was just buying what Navajo Girl wanted me to buy,” Felicity snapped. “I mean, who needs over fifty different Mars Bars, anyhow?”

  I looked over and saw Winona was still lost in her headphones, quietly murmuring one word of an Indigenous language or another. She was totally unaware we were talking about her right now.

  “I’m sure there’s a restaurant at Niagara, Felicity,” I replied. “Besides, I’m not really hungry.”

  “But I am!”

  I turned to Benjamin. “Are you?”

  “Not particularly,” he replied.

  “Two to one, Felicity,” I answered. “Looks like you’ll either have to wait until Niagara or make do with Mars Bars.”

  She grumbled out a few expletives, and I felt the posh, pristine image of Felicity Brigham was slowly but surely beginning to crumble apart. She turned to look over at Winona Bluebird, her most hated nemesis, and the cogs in her mind started to hatch another scheme.

  I sighed. “If Winona wants to stop, then we’ll stop, Felicity.”

  “Hopefully this time she might know where she’s going,” Felicity grumbled under her breath, and made her way down the RV to convince her, wearing the most deranged stalker smile I’d ever seen.

  It started well enough, Felicity tapping at Winona’s shoulder and getting a sour look back for her troubles. Then Felicity began harping on and on about her troubles, and Winona was content to slip her headphones back on to get away from it all.