Page 8 of Hairpin Curves

A softness stole into Megan’s eyes. “I can’t.” Her tone wasn’t “I can’t,” though; her tone was “I wish I could.”

“But is it that you don’t want to, or don’t think you can? Why don’t you think you can?”

Megan sighed and spun in a circle. “Do we have to go through this now? It’s almost midnight.”

“Do you have to get up in the morning?” Scarlett asked.

“Yes,” Megan shot back, and then paused. “Well, no.” She bit her lower lip. “Winston called and asked me not to come in tomorrow. They’re cutting back on hours in the last few weeks the diner’s open.”

“Great. So you have time to talk.”

Megan flopped into the recliner across from Scarlett. “You’re impossible. You’ve always been impossible.”

This was the closest they’d come to broaching their past. Scarlett wasn’t sure if she wanted to. There were always questions involved, questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

“Yes,” Megan said when Scarlett didn’t respond. “Yeah, sure, I’d love to go. But it’s ridiculous. It’s a whole different country. I’ve never been on a plane.”

That was the part that had settled in Scarlett’s mind, the part she hadn’t been able to let go of. “Are you scared to fly?”

“I don’t know.” Megan sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“I didn’t think it was a particularly difficult question. Lots of people are scared to fly.” That didn’t seem right to Scarlett, though. For all of Megan’s quiet, unobtrusive demeanor, she had never really been fearful. She just...didn’t expend a lot of effort on things for herself.

“You said it was a lot of money.” Megan’s tone was accusatory. “Why are you asking me if I’m going to go if you can’t afford to go?”

Time for the pitch. “I was thinking maybe we could drive,” Scarlett said, and forced the last word out. “Together.”

Megan stared at her.

Scarlett stared back.

“Together,” Megan repeated. “In the same car.” She drew back. “Wait, what car? Not your car, certainly. I saw that thing in the driveway and it’s the same one you had in high school. I’m surprised it isn’t currently on fire.”

Scarlett couldn’t even defend herself. “My car’s a death trap. We’d take yours.”

“So you want me to drive across the entire country with you in my car so you can save money on plane tickets?” Megan’s eyebrows were so high up they were practically hitting her hairline. “You’ve got some nerve, Scarlett Andrews.”

“Your car’s a convertible,” Scarlett tried.

Megan gave her a withering look. “It’s winter.”

It really was a terrible plan, wasn’t it? But Scarlett had already thought it up, and she was committed. “It doesn’t have to be so bad. You and I used to be friends, once.” She swallowed, the words suddenly hanging heavier between them than she wanted them to. She forced herself to press on. “Juliet wants to see us both. She was the final member of our trio. We should try to go to her wedding.”

Megan wrinkled up her nose. “Gross.”

“What?” Scarlett snapped back.

Megan kept the wrinkled-prune expression for another moment. “It’s gross that you’re getting all emotional about this.”

“Unbelievable.” Scarlett flopped back on the couch and stretched her arms out over the back of it. “I didn’t even want to ask you, you know that? I knew you were going to be an asshole about this, the way you’ve been a total asshole since we stopped talking.”

“Right. Right. I’m the asshole. Obviously. And you’re perfect.” Megan was getting heated, color rising in her pale cheeks. “How am I supposed to do this road trip? I’ve never—” She cut herself off abruptly, mouth snapping shut.

“Never what?” Scarlett asked.

Megan shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Never what?” Scarlett insisted. “Never been to a wedding? Never actually had a valid driver’s license?”