The sound of Cooper's vomit rising up his throat is unpleasant, to say the least. Brandon reaches for the remote, turning the television up to block out the sound as best as he can. Ellie sits impatiently, twiddling her thumbs together as she waits for the sick boy to emerge from the bathroom.

"Hey, Coop," she says, leaning back in her seat so he can hear her better.

She's met with another gag before he's coughing and pushing the bathroom door open to look at her. He sits pathetically on the ground, wiping at his mouth before sending her a tired smile. "Yeah?"

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"No. I'm okay. I think I just drank too much last night." His eyes look past her, meeting Brandon's. "Thank God you don't live in a dorm with a communal bathroom. This would've been much more disgusting."

"You're welcome, dude," Brandon says with a laugh. "Are you sure you don't want a water or something?"

He reaches up towards the sink, grabbing a glass of water and holding it out to show them. "I've already got it covered."

"Maybe we shouldn't go to Vancouver," Ellie says, biting down on her lip as she tries to think through the situation logically. "I mean you're obviously not feeling very well. It probably wouldn't be very good for you to spend an entire day walking around the city."

"Fuck that. We're going to Vancouver."

He pushes the door shut slightly, leaning back over the porcelain bowl and spilling what little remains in his stomach into it. Ellie sighs, leaning her head back and staring up at the ceiling. "I don't know, Cooper."

The toilet flushes and he's peaking his head back out, slumping back against the sink. "I'm fine, El. I just drank too much. I'm already feeling way better."

"You stopped your treatment," she deadpans, not willing to play dumb to his avoidance of the subject.

"We're going to Canada," he says, pushing himself off the ground. "I've never been and I'll never have another chance to go. We're right by the border. We're going. Don't fight me on this."

She stares back at him, focusing on the dark bags under his eyes before looking to the layer of sweat that lines his forehead. He looks anything but fine, and yet he won't budge. She continues staring at him, somehow trying to express her concern for him through her gaze but only being met with a stubbornness in his own eyes.

"Rent a wheelchair," Brandon suddenly says, looking up from his phone to look at the couple. He turns the device so they can see the screen. "There are places in Vancouver where you can rent a wheelchair for the day. You can still see the city."

Cooper scoffs. "I don't need a wheelchair."

"Don't be so prideful, dickhead," Brandon says, fixing him with a glare. "Do you really want to exert yourself and pass out in the streets of Canada? You really want to do that to Ellie? Don't be a dumbass, Cooper."

The sick boy says nothing, his eyes only shooting to Ellie briefly before finding his friend's once more. "Okay. Fine." He looks back to her, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "If you're all right wheeling me around, I'm all right getting a wheelchair for the day."

She considers this for a moment. She's not sure he should even be in a different country with how sick he seems to be, but it's clear this is what he wants, and who is she to deny him what he wants? Deciding that it's a good compromise, she nods her head in agreement.

"I can't believe how scary the border patrol was," Cooper comments, laughing from the passenger seat as Ellie looks for a place to park in the crowded garage. "I don't even want to know what American border patrol will be like. I thought Canadians were the nice ones."

"I can't believe I didn't know that their speed signs would be in kilometers." She smoothly pulls into an open space, thankful to finally be able to get out of the car. Driving in a foreign country, even when that foreign country is only Canada, is terrifying. "That really tripped me up. I forgot our system is different from the rest of the world's."

"Well, we made it. We're here. We're officially Canadians."

"Oh?" She laughs. "That's how it works? We just come to Canada and we're officially citizens?"

"As far as I know, yeah." He smiles playfully before reaching for his door handle and making his way out of the vehicle. Ellie follows suit, being sure to lock the car before following him towards the entrance of the mall they parked under. Cooper reaches for her hand, locking their fingers together and giving it a quick squeeze.

Suddenly every squeeze has a much deeper meaning since Cooper revealed his past with hand-holding. Ellie's lips curl up into a smile as she gives his hand a squeeze in return, catching him by surprise.

He turns to her with a goofy smile and red-tinted cheeks, but it all but fades when Ellie says, "Let's go get you a wheelchair."

"I'd almost forgot," he says under his breath, though he doesn't argue against it.

They make their way out of the parking garage and find themselves in a brightly-lit shopping mall—much like a mall they'd see back home. Gazing around, they wait for something to strike them as 'foreign' but all that seems out of place to them is the lack of American flags.

"So this is Canada," Cooper says as they make their way through the crowd, his grip on Ellie's growing tighter with each bump of a shoulder.

"This is it," she says. "You know what's weird?"

"What?"

"All these people," she gestures to the crowd around them, "are Canadian."

He turns to her, eyebrows pulled together as a grin takes place on his lips. "Of course they're Canadian, Ellie."

She rolls her eyes, an embarrassed blush spreading across her cheeks. "No. I mean, uh. Like, they're Canadian instead of American."

"I'm going to let this slide because you're cute," he says, holding back a laugh.

"Listen to what I'm really saying, Cooper."

"I'm listening, El."

She pauses, trying to think over her thoughts so she can articulate them more clearly. Just as they make their way out onto the streets of Vancouver, she says, "Everyone around us is Canadian. Normally, when we're out and about, we're surrounded by Americans. But not right now. I think that's cool."

"Hello," Cooper says to a man walking past them. The man looks a bit startled at first before sending a polite nod in his direction. Cooper raises his eyebrows, turning to Ellie with a grin. "I just said hi to a Canadian."

She sighs dramatically. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Maybe." Before she has a chance to scold him, he's letting out an excited noise and pulling her down the street. "Our first Canadian experience! A poutine shop!"

"Cooper," Ellie groans. "We need to get you a wheelchair."

"Ellie, I'm fine. We can get the wheelchair after we get some poutine. I've gone my entire life without a wheelchair, twenty more minutes won't kill me."

"You haven't been sick your entire life."

"Lighten up, babe," he says, turning to her with a bored expression, somehow still managing to make her heart flutter with his use of the word 'babe.' "This is a day to enjoy, not to worry. So stop worrying about me. I'm okay."

She doesn't say anything, she just simply nods and keeps her mouth shut. Cooper leads the way to the shop, cleverly named, 'Mean Poutine,' and places two orders for the both of them. He pulls out his wallet to pay, handing the worker a few bills before turning to Ellie and holding one out to her.

"Smell it," he says, waving the bill in front of her face.

She eyes him warily, pushing his arm down and the colorful bill with it. "I'm not going to smell the money."

"It smells like maple syrup."

"That's a bit of a stereotype," Ellie says, eyes widening a fraction.

"I'm serious. It actually smells like maple. Take a whiff."

Against her better judgment, she leans in to take a sniff, a look of surprise taking over her features as the smell of maple syrup really does fill her nostrils. "Why does it smell like maple syrup?"

"Because Canada is great."

"Do you think our money smells like McDonalds then?" She jokes, earning a look of amusement from Cooper. "Or maybe bald eagle urine."

"Perhaps a good mix of gunpowder and beer. I guess it depends on the region it came from." He turns back to the worker as she returns with their plates of poutine, the scent overwhelming their senses and sending them directly to a table to dig in.

Ellie grabs hold of one of the cheesy fries, nearly drooling as she brings it closer to her mouth. Without wasting another second, she tosses it in, wincing slightly at the heat of it before chewing and swallowing. "Don't we have this in America?"

"I'm sure we do," he nods, taking a bite from his own hefty serving. "But it's more authentic here. Like eating pizza in Italy. It's just something you have to do."

She acknowledges his logic with a simple noise to convey she's heard him before she's focusing in on her meal once more. They don't speak much as they continue scarfing down their food, their gazes trained on their surroundings as they try to take in the culture of it all.

"So what do you want to do now that we're here?" Ellie asks, glancing down at her plate to see a few bites remaining. She pushes it away, too full to even consider finishing it.

Cooper shoves his own plate away before pushing himself up from his seat, Ellie following his actions and getting up from hers. "I don't really know. I just sort of wanted to come here and see what it's like. What do Canadians do?"

She shrugs, latching onto his hand and leaning into his side as they make their way down the sidewalk. "I don't know. Probably the same things as us, right?"

"Not very exotic."

With a laugh, she pulls out her phone and searches for the nearest place to rent a wheelchair. Happy to see there's one only a few blocks away, she guides them in the right direction.

"I want to buy a hat," he says. "Like a visor with a Canadian flag."

"A visor?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do you wear visors?" She snorts.

"I don't. But visors feel very tourist-like. I think it would only be right."

"Okay," she says, a hearty chuckle following. "We'll get you a super cool Canadian visor right after we get you a super cool Canadian wheelchair."

"I could get up and walk for a little while. You must be tired," Cooper says, looking over his shoulder with guilt in his eyes as Ellie pushes him up a slightly-inclined road. "Seriously, El. I'm good to walk for a bit."

"No. I'm good. Just sit pretty and drink your water. We don't need you getting dehydrated." She struggles to keep a steady voice as her arms shake, truth be told, pushing someone in a wheelchair up a hill is not an easy task.

"We don't have to go to the bar," he says, doing as he's told and opening the cap to his water bottle. "You've already wheeled me all around the art museum and then down to the Olympic torches. It's been a long day. It's okay if you just want to head home, it is a three-hour drive after all."

"We," she groans, "are going to return this wheelchair. Then we are going to the bar to get a drink." She lets out a sigh of relief as the road appears to be flat once more, making her job of pushing him much easier. "You said it yourself. This is the only time you'll have a chance to come to Canada. That means it's also your only chance to legally buy a drink, unless you miraculously hold out until you're twenty-one. But by the looks of it, that isn't happening."

"Okay. You're right. But I'm driving us home."

"I don't think—"

His arm shoots back, his hand landing on hers as she continues pushing him down the street. Tilting his head back so he can meet her eyes, he says, "I love that you care about me, really. I do. But I care about you too and I know you're tired. I've had plenty of time to rest today. I can manage a three-hour drive. If I do get tired, I'll let you know and you can take over." She nods and he pats her hand a few times before returning his to his lap. "Good."

With the shop to return the wheelchair coming into sight, Ellie doesn't know whether to scream in joy or cry from excitement. If her arms could move, they'd surely be in the air, but they're too tired to do any sort of celebrating. Her respect for caretakers and nurses increased tenfold after today's excursion.

With a quick return, Cooper is back on his feet, his arm around Ellie as they walk down the city street in search of a bar. Some locals earlier had referred them to Granville Street for a night of endless partying, but a party-filled night isn't exactly what either of them desired. At this point, they're both tired and ready to settle for the first bar they stumble across.

"I think that's a bar," Ellie says, pointing across the street to a dimly-lit spot. It doesn't look like much, but they don't need much. Cooper doesn't say anything as he makes his way across the street, Ellie still pressed into his side. When they approach the bar, they both reach for their wallets, producing their ID's and getting ready to verify their ages once they step inside.

Much to their surprise, no one is waiting by the door to interrogate them. Glancing to each other, they make their way over the bar, settling into a spot in the corner of the room.

"ID?" The bartender says, a half-interested tone to his voice as he cleans a glass in his hand. They both hold their cards out to the man, nerves dancing in their bellies at the idea of being rejected. He scans over their date of births, suppressing an eye-roll as he sees that they're from the states. "What can I get you guys?"

"I'll take a Malibu bay breeze, please," Ellie says confidently, taking Cooper by surprise.

He stares at her for a moment before looking to the bartender with a nod. "Two of those." When the bartender shuffles away to make the drinks, he turns back to Ellie. "What the hell is a Malibu bay breeze?"

"I don't know," she admits, shrugging her shoulders. "I just saw someone order it in a movie once."

He laughs, allowing his eyes to look around the room. The first thing he notices is the racks of alcohol lining the wall behind the bar. "Wow. So this is what bars are like?"

Ellie looks around, taking note of the few patrons at this particular spot. Most of them appear to be regulars, glued to the seats of their bar stools. But when her eyes land on a group of boys around their age, all of whom seem to be drinking her in with their gazes, she's quick to turn back to Cooper. "It's a bit darker in here than I expected."

Cooper nods, the smile on his lips fading slightly as he looks past Ellie. Noticing his shift in mood, she brings her hand up to his face. Her fingers find their way to the little wisps of hair sticking out from under his cheesy Canadian visor, and a smile tugs at her lips.

"I had fun today," she says, drawing his attention away from the boys behind her. His eyes search hers before his smile returns.

"Me too. Thanks for wheeling me around."

She sighs, her knuckles brushing gently along his cheek. "I'd wheel you around forever if it meant having you."

He doesn't have a chance to respond as a deep, sonorous voice suddenly speaks up from behind her. "Hey, sweetheart. Can I buy you a drink?"

Ellie's hand drops from Cooper's cheek as she turns to face the owner of the voice. When her eyes land on one of the boys who'd been previously staring at her, she freezes. The boy's eyes conspicuously glance down to her chest and she suddenly feels sick.

"That's really kind of you, man," Cooper speaks up, taking the boy's attention away from Ellie. "I'll take one too while you're at it."

The boy's expression suddenly morphs into one of disgust. "Sorry? What part of that question was directed at you?"

"You Canadians and your apologies," Cooper laughs dryly. "I just figured that a kind dude like you wouldn't mind buying this sweetheart's boyfriend a drink while you're at it. Please, let me know if I'm out of line in assuming that's what you meant."

"I'm not buying you and your dumb ass hat a drink," the boy spits.

A sudden sense of boredom falls over Cooper as he leans against the wall behind him. "Fair enough I suppose."

The drunk boy stares at him expectantly for a while, waiting for him to make another snarky comment. He turns back to his friends, all of whom nod him on to continue. Plastering on another charming smile, he looks to Ellie. "So how about it? Can I buy you a drink?"

She freezes in her seat once more, not having a chance to respond before Cooper is speaking up again. "Say yes, El. When a nice man offers you a free drink you always say yes."

Her eyebrows pull together as she thinks over his bad advice, turning to him with a frown to see a lazy grin sitting on his lips. Before she has a chance to ask him how that makes any logical sense, the boy's hand is connecting with Cooper's shoulder and shoving him into the wall behind him.

"How about you stay out of this before I beat your scrawny ass up," the man says, seething with rage as he hovers over Cooper.

Ellie gasps, quick to be at Cooper's side as she grabs onto his arm to steady him. She expects to see some sort of anger, but instead he just laughs, his eyes staying trained on the other boy's. "You're right. Please, continue hitting on my girlfriend. I'll shut up this time."

"What are you even doing?" Ellie says, eyes narrowed at the boy. "Did you really think that hitting on a girl with a boyfriend was going to turn out well for you?"

"You could do a lot better than this tool," the boy says, by this point his friends have gathered around, just waiting for some sort of brawl. "Come hang with us. I'll show you what a real man is about."

Cooper snorts, his head falling back in laughter. "That's a pretty good offer, El. Aren't you curious to find out what real men are about?"

The drunk boy's hands are around Cooper's neck in an