“Yeah.” Megan closed her book. “Are you drunk?”
“A little.” He rubbed his face. “What the fuck do you care?”
“Did you drive?”
“No, I didn’t drive. Dan drove me home.” Matt yawned. “That reminds me. Can you drive me to his place tomorrow to get my car?”
Megan stared up at him. What a fucking asshole. She sighed. “Sure. You get me the rent yet? I’ve been asking for days.”
“Oh right! Remind me tomorrow. It’s one in the goddamn morning.” He went to the fridge and grabbed a Gatorade. “Can you get more Gatorade next time you get groceries?”
“Write it on the list.” Megan tried to focus on the book again, but her unease was still unsettling her.
A few envelopes fell onto her lap from above, making her jump. “I got the mail,” Matt said. “You actually got something that’s not a bill.”
Megan held the heavy envelope and knew immediately what it was. She pulled out Juliet’s invitation and turned it to catch the light. The navy blue card stock was decorated with golden stars, the fancy golden script proclaiming, Together with their parents, Mr. Gabriel Bouchard and Miss Juliet Letourneaux request the honor of your presence at their wedding...
“What’s that?” Matt flopped down on the couch next to her, shoving her feet out of the way.
“It’s a wedding invitation.” She was going to have to tell him at some point. “It’s in Quebec.”
Matt snorted. “You want me to throw it out?”
Megan pressed it to her chest. “No. I’m going.”
Matt stopped, bottle halfway to his mouth, and slowly lowered it again. “You’re what?”
“I’m going to the wedding.” Megan hated how her voice trembled even when she tried to sound confident. “It’s next month.”
“You’re not going.” He laughed and took another sip. “You don’t go anywhere. You don’t even have a passport.”
“Yes, I do.” He didn’t know her at all.
“Why? Waste of money, if you ask me.” He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. “Look, no offense, Meg, but you’re not the traveling kind. Some people are adventurous, and some people aren’t. You’re not.” He patted her shin. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“I said I’m going, and I’m going.” Megan flared in anger, all her frustration and confusion suddenly directed at him. “I’m driving up there with Scarlett.”
“Scarlett who?”
“Scarlett Andrews.”
Matt scrunched up his nose like he was trying to remember her. “Did I ever sleep with that one?”
Revulsion ran through Megan at the mere thought of it. “God, I hope not.” Shit, what if he had?
“What got into you tonight? That time of the month?” Matt got to his feet, shaking his head. “Ugh. Whatever. I’m going to bed.”
He left her there on the couch and wandered into his room at the other end of the house. Megan watched him go, annoyed and for some reason embarrassed. Embarrassed by what? Maybe her past, maybe what she had and hadn’t done with her life. She’d been a little uncertain about her decision, but now, she needed to go to prove Matt wrong. She needed to do something to move forward.
She grabbed a pen and the RSVP card. Matt could say what he wanted. She was going to Quebec.
Chapter Four
“Knock knock!”
Megan opened the door at Scarlett’s verbal knocking, already bracing herself for the encounter she was about to have. They’d basically tiptoed around each other for the past couple weeks, but Megan had RSVP’d yes to the wedding, and Scarlett did the same, and now they were only a few days away from leaving and the logistics were piling up into a panic-induced extensive list of to-dos. One of those was the actual itinerary, which Scarlett had insisted on reviewing even though Megan was confident she could do it on her own. Okay, that was a lie. Megan wasn’t confident she could do any of this on her own. That, after all, was why she was bringing Scarlett into it.
“What are those?” Scarlett asked immediately as soon as Megan led her into the kitchen, stopping short of the table that was currently covered in maps.
“They’re maps?” Megan tried not to sound confused but was definitely confused. “What, haven’t you seen them before?”
“I’ve seen maps before, but here in the twenty-first century, most people use the GPS. It’s like the future now.” Scarlett waggled her fingers like she was showing off a magic trick. “I don’t know why you’ve got ancient technology spread out here like we’re taking the covered wagons to Oregon. You worried about dying of dysentery along the way, too?”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Maps are better because you can see the whole route spread out in front of you.”
“You could just zoom out on the screen.” Scarlett scooted closer anyway and peered across the table full of papers. “Where did you even get all these, a museum? Do they have highways on them, or just horse paths?”
“I got them at AAA, thank you very much. Apparently it’s very common. Nobody even looked at me weird.” Megan folded her arms. Fuck Scarlett’s judgment. She liked maps. “And...” She started to add more, but then stopped, until Scarlett looked up at her with raised eyebrows.
“And what?”
“And...it’s kind of classic. You know. The Road Trip.” The words were capitalized in her mind. “It feels like it’s not right to do it without a paper map.” Suddenly saying it out loud, she realized how silly it must sound to Scarlett. “Never mind.”
Scarlett’s lips curled up, just the hint of a smile. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
“Never have.” Megan didn’t want to admit how intimidating it was to see the whole route spread out in front of her, all those states and even that whole other country sprawling at the far end of the table. She wasn’t afraid; she was just new to having adventures. Most of all, she was not going to let Scarlett see her as anything other than perfectly competent. Or at least unbothered about her lack of competence.
“What’s your plan?” Scarlett put her hands on her hips and surveyed the maps. “Or our plan. I guess I’m in this with you.”
Megan had prepared for this. “I expect you to do a lot of the driving, since I’m financing almost everything.”
Scarlett shrugged. “Sure. I like driving. It’s the least I can do, right? And pay for gas.” She put her hands flat on the table and leaned over to see farther. Her curly light brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders. How could she be so effortlessly lovely? Megan always looked like she fell off a barge, and Scarlett was ridiculously attractive. Scarlett probably fell into bed with good looking people everywhere she went. It was supremely unfair.