Eliot sat on his bed and opened his notebook to a fresh page. He wrote "Buc-ee's Trip Budget" at the top and underlined it twice. His dad always said you needed a plan before you spent money. Eliot pulled out his piggy bank and counted the bills and coins inside. Twenty-three dollars and forty-seven cents. Not enough for gas and snacks for two adults. He chewed his lip and thought hard. Maybe he could ask his grandma for help, or do extra chores around the neighborhood. The important thing was getting started. He wrote down all the costs he could think of: gas, drinks, maybe lunch at Buc-ee's famous barbecue counter. His pencil moved faster as ideas filled the page. This vacation would happen. He'd make sure of it. He flipped back through his notebook to the page where he'd drawn the giant beaver mascot from memory. Buc-ee's was the perfect place. His mom had talked about it once, how she'd stopped there on a road trip before he was born. His dad loved their clean bathrooms and cheap fountain drinks. If Eliot could get them both there together, they'd have to talk. They'd have to remember good times. He added "beaver keychain souvenirs" to his list and circled it. The trip would cost more than twenty-three dollars, but he had two weeks before summer ended. Two weeks to earn money and make this work. He closed the notebook and tucked it under his pillow. His parents would be together again, and it would start at Buc-ee's.

Eliot walked downtown and pushed open the glass door to the travel agency. Inside, the walls were covered with posters of beaches, mountains, and famous landmarks. A rack near the window held dozens of colorful brochures. He moved closer and started reading the titles. "Austin Family Fun," "Houston Space Center Adventures," "San Antonio River Walk Guide." His fingers walked along the rows until he found what he needed. A bright yellow brochure showed the Buc-ee's beaver mascot with his arms spread wide. The title read "Texas Road Trip Essentials." Eliot grabbed two copies and tucked them into his notebook. This town had everything he needed to make his dream real. The brochures would show his parents exactly where to go and what to see. Buc-ee's wasn't just a gas station anymore. It was a destination, and the proof sat right here in his hands. He stepped back outside and walked three blocks toward the town square. A vintage RV sat parked near the corner, its blue stripe gleaming in the afternoon sun. Two lawn chairs faced the open side door. A woman stood next to the RV holding a photo album, showing pictures to a small crowd. Eliot moved closer and listened. "We drove all the way to Big Bend in this beauty," the woman said, tapping a photo. "Best three weeks of our lives." The people around her nodded and smiled. One man pulled out his phone to show pictures from his own trip. Everyone was sharing stories about places they'd been and places they wanted to go. Eliot looked down at his brochures. This RV proved that families still took trips together. They made memories and talked about them for years. His parents could do that too. He turned toward home, his steps faster now. The town was showing him that his dream could work.