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?”
“I’ve never been out of Florida.” Megan folded her arms. “There, are you happy?”
“You were serious about that?” Scarlett gaped. “But this state is so bad!”
“This state is not bad. I happen to like it here. People come from all over the world to the beaches, and the cost of living is so low, and I have a Disney yearly pass...” Megan ticked off the pluses on her fingers.
Scarlett interrupted her. “It’s hotter than Satan’s taint, and you can’t go thirty feet without hitting a nail salon or a Wal-Mart, and alligators just fucking show up in the drainage ditches, and don’t even get me started on sinkholes—”
“So move away, then!” Megan said, practically shouting. “Why do you even live here if you hate it so much?”
“Because it’s cheap! And because I don’t want to shovel snow! And because I grew up here and it’s like a damn wart, you can’t get rid of it. And...” Her voice fell. “And I like it.” Scarlett hated that she actually liked the sunny weather and the beaches and the quirky people.
Megan was nodding like she knew everything, and that was its own annoying bullshit. “I see.”
“Ah, yeah, ‘I see.’ Don’t act like you’re my therapist.” Scarlett waved her hand. “At least I’ve left the state.”
“Don’t hold it over me.” Megan looked off to one side, something sad coming over her face that made Scarlett feel like kind of an ass for picking on her.
Other obstacles were crashing into place in Scarlett’s mind already. “Well, we couldn’t drive, then. You probably don’t even have a passport, and it would cost a fortune to get one expedited.”
“I have a passport.” Megan interlaced her fingers in her lap.
“What? Why?” Scarlett couldn’t imagine why she’d have gone through the trouble and expense of getting one, if she wasn’t going anywhere.
Megan clammed up again, pulling her legs into her chest on the chair. “I don’t know why you care.”
“I’m curious. For old time’s sake.”
“I got one back when I first graduated college. I thought—it’s dumb.” Megan’s voice was muffled against her knees. Scarlett wanted to push her, but they didn’t have that rapport anymore. But then Megan continued talking. “I thought I was going to travel, and I didn’t.” She picked her head up and rested her chin on her knees. “Is that good enough?”
She might drive Scarlett mad, and Scarlett might have some unresolved issues with her that she did not want to resolve now, but the curiosity was stronger than the resentment at this point. “Don’t you want to use that passport? It seems perfect. We’ll drive up to Quebec for the wedding. Go a few days early to see the city, go to that Winter Carnival thing, and then come home. Unless you don’t want to leave Florida.”
“I want to leave Florida,” Megan said defensively. “You think I like never having done anything with my life?”
Scarlett didn’t need to tell Megan that she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t done anything with her life. They would probably have to have that conversation eventually. If they became friends again. “What do you think?” Scarlett asked.
Megan’s face went through a number of expressions. “How are we supposed to pay for it?”
“I’ve got a little money saved up,” Scarlett lied.
“But not enough for plane tickets?” Megan asked.
“Okay, so I don’t really have any money.” Scarlett pulled her legs up onto the couch. “I don’t know how we’re going to pay for it.”
Megan grimaced. She seemed to be considering something for a long time. “Okay. Look. I got a big check from Winston and Martha for severance. I was...thinking of going somewhere with it anyway. I can pay for the hotels and food if you can pay for the gas.”
Scarlett did not need to do the math to know she was getting the way better end of the deal, and her conscience wouldn’t let her stay quiet about it. “Why would you even have me go if you’re going to pay for almost everything?”
“Because I can’t do all that driving myself,” Megan said, like it was obvious. “And I’ve never done a road trip before. I don’t know how to do it.”