“Why, do you want to see them?”
Megan said it as a retort, but Scarlett’s eyes went fractionally wider, and Megan’s face blazed hot all over again. Shit. This was some unspoken territory, and she had no idea how to negotiate it. “Come look at this map,” she said, changing the subject as quickly as she could.
“Right.” Scarlett dropped it, too, fortunately, and for a moment, she looked as unsettled as Megan felt before her regular demeanor snapped back into place. “You know, I thought maybe you’d have, like, a whole itemized list drawn up with mileage and key facts. It doesn’t seem like you to procrastinate.”
“I didn’t procrastinate. I wanted your input.” Megan tapped the map. “I will draw your attention again to my excellent highlighting skills.”
Scarlett leaned over to nod at the single line. “A notable start.”
“So you are okay with detours?” Megan had been worried Scarlett would want to do this the most direct way possible so as not to spend time in the car with her, and she hadn’t wanted to fight about it.
“I thought you were planning to stop at every ass-backwards tourist trap between here and the border. I’ve already resigned myself to my fate.” Scarlett spread her arms wide. “Hit me with your destinations.”
Megan got hesitantly to her feet. Now, faced with the paper map and the permanence of marking something on it, she paused. Her sensible ballpoint pen lay untouched in the middle of the map, resting in a crease.
She couldn’t put her dreams aside forever. At some point, she had to start living.
She grabbed the pen and drew a tight circle around New York City. “There.”
Scarlett nodded slowly, looking at the circle. “It’s a good choice.”
“Thanks. I’m glad you approve.” Megan couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice, but it was just defensiveness without malice, and Scarlett didn’t take the bait.
Scarlett waited, her expression expectant. “And what else?”
She might as well dig into the scrapbook. Megan flipped it open with a sigh of resignation. Scarlett was going to see this stuff anyway. If Scarlett made fun of her choices, she could always say that she was allowed to do whatever she wanted since she was paying most of the money, and she kept that excuse in her back pocket.
New York was the first page, so she was able to skip right by that. Scarlett put out a hand as she turned the page, though, and stopped her. “Wait a minute. Let me see.” She kept her hand there, holding the page open. “You made this?”
It was just a scrapbook page, decorated with images of the city, photographs and a couple of drawings, the words “New York City” spread across the page. “Yeah.” Megan drew back her hand. Scarlett didn’t look about to make fun of her, so maybe this was fine. “I like scrapbooking.”
“Why’d you leave all these blank spots?” Scarlett asked.
“For my own pictures.”
Megan turned to the very front page, the one at the start of this section, where she’d created a sort of vision board for her scrapbook. It had all kinds of inspirational words like “travel” and “dream,” which was maybe a bit cheesy but she liked it. The center focal point was a couple of Polaroids she’d taken: one of the beach at sunset that she’d taken over the Gulf of Mexico, and one of a dandelion just starting to lose its seeds to the wind.
“This is really good, Meg.” Scarlett sounded genuine. Genuine, and impressed, and kind. Oh, suddenly Megan wanted to forgive all the ways she’d been wronged, wanted to tell Scarlett all her deepest hopes and dreams, wanted them to go back to the way they were.
Instead, Megan clamped her lips shut and nodded once, curtly. Those were dangerous feelings, the kind that got her in over her head. She couldn’t get her heart broken again by trusting Scarlett too much.
“Can I look at the rest of it?” Scarlett asked, drawing the book closer to herself.
“No.” Megan pulled it out of her hands, more violently than she’d intended, and Scarlett’s eyes widened. “Maybe some other time. I just...want to focus right now. On the map.”
She added a few easy ones first. Washington, DC, which was a place everybody should visit. Tybee Island in Georgia was the closest one to home that she could circle, followed by Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. That was where Scarlett stopped her.
“Okay, wait a minute.” Scarlett held out another hand. “It is February. And you have not one but two beaches on this sheet. Are you unfamiliar with the fact that winter is occurring, right now, in our lives?”
“I know. But I want to go there.” Stubbornly, Megan flipped the pages of her scrapbook until she found the page she’d made for Tybee Island. “It’s supposed to have the most beautiful sunrises on the east coast.”
“So you want to get there for a sunrise?” Scarlett frowned. “That’s a far drive, Meg. That’s got to be what, four hours?” She pulled out her phone and started typing in something. “Five hours! It’s a five-hour drive. Do you have any idea what time we would have to leave in order to watch the sun come up on Tybee Island?”
“Okay! Fine. It was dumb.” Megan’s skin felt hot, and she quickly drew an X through her previous circle. She should have known this wouldn’t be a good idea. It was only five hours away; maybe she could go there on her own. She drew another X over the Myrtle Beach circle. “And we can skip Myrtle Beach, too. I just heard it was pretty.” It was easier to give in. Did any of it matter that much, anyway?
Scarlett looked at her. Really looked at her, close enough that Megan couldn’t escape that gaze. She was never comfortable with the intensity of Scarlett’s full attention.
“Sorry,” Scarlett eventually muttered. “Show me your Tybee Island page.”
So Megan slid the scrapbook over to her, and Scarlett looked at the magazine picture of grasses blowing against white beach sand, the reddening sky promising daylight. “Fine. We’ll go to your beach.” Scarlett leaned over and re-circled Tybee Island. “And the other one, too.” She added Myrtle Beach to the list with another circle. “I’ll freeze my damn ass off, but you can get your scrapbook pictures. Okay?”
“I can go on my own, if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”
Scarlett smiled. “Very funny. No, I’ll go with you. I’m not swimming or some ridiculous shit like that, though, capisce?”
* * *
Scarlett left that night more exhausted than she’d been in a while. Dealing with Megan was exhausting. Had it always been so difficult? Of course not. Not when they were friends. But whatever they were now, it certainly wasn’t friends, and the tension between them was enough to wear her out and leave her emotionally drained. She had to walk on eggshells around Megan. Megan was so touchy, ready to get defensive about everything, even when Scarlett was totally only teasing.