Scarlett gave her a ghost of a smile, and Megan left with the same sense of discomfort.
Winston took her order with an undecipherable noise of agreement and set about whipping up some pancakes while Megan drew an orange juice for Scarlett. She wiped down the counters for the millionth time today, wishing there was something else to do. Her time here at the diner was sucking her life dry. She hadn’t gone to book group in months, hadn’t played any of her favorite video games, hadn’t done much of anything but work, sleep, and take care of the house. Christmas was a reprieve, a day off spent with family, but she’d been back into the grind almost immediately after. Adulthood was supposed to be about routines, sure, but this routine wasn’t fun at all.
Was Scarlett any better off, though? Megan leaned on the counter and eyed her former friend, who was typing something on her phone. Scarlett hadn’t volunteered what she was doing for work, but she was in the diner in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Socially, Scarlett had the charm and grace Megan could only envy from afar. Scarlett was beautiful, funny, quick-witted, and adventurous. Maybe that was why she had a boyfriend or girlfriend every time Megan turned around in high school, but Megan herself had been a late bloomer. She’d only gotten into the dating scene once she was in college, and that had trailed off after graduating three years ago. There had been a handful of brief flings, mostly out-of-towners she wouldn’t have to see again, and a couple of relationships barely long enough to call relationships. Nothing lasting and nothing worth thinking about.
“Order up!” Winston’s sing-song call jerked Megan out of her reverie, leaving her with weird guilty, unsettled feelings that rolled in her stomach like a confusing jumble. She slid the plate of pancakes and sausage in front of Scarlett, who put her phone away.
“Thanks.” Scarlett flashed her a tight-lipped smile. Megan nodded once, curt, and went into the back room to start washing dishes for pre-close. She didn’t want to get into a conversation, especially when she was feeling so unsettled.
Seeing Scarlett again, having Scarlett interact with her like things were normal between them—or at least somewhat normal—had her all aflutter in ways she didn’t want to dig too deeply into. First off, she felt like her whole life was standing still sometimes, and having an old friend dip back into it after years of no communication made her feel even more like no time had passed. She was a goddamn adult. She was twenty-five years old. She wasn’t the hurt eighteen year old who just had her best friend flake off to some fancy private school and never talk to her again. She’d had seven years to get past it. After all these years, she’d thought she was over it. But here came Scarlett, smiling and talking about Juliet and expecting everything to be normal. Megan felt itchy all over, a feeling that lingered with her as she loaded the dishwasher.
After Scarlett left, with no other customers coming in after her, Megan was free to start the closing process for real. She’d just finished locking up the safe when the sound of Winston clearing his throat got her attention.
He pulled the hairnet off his head, letting his white wispy hair free. Something in his expression gave Megan pause. He spoke with an uncharacteristic hesitation. “You, uh, got a few minutes?”
* * *
Well, this fucking blew. Scarlett put her hands on her hips and stared at the backed-up sink in her kitchen, bubbling disgusting brown water making no signs of retreating down the drain where it belonged. The landlord had told her the garbage disposal was working fine, even with the weird noises lately, and she’d believed him. What a dickbag.
“Jacen?” she hollered into the other room. “The sink’s backed up.”
“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” Jacen’s voice was muffled, like he had a pillow over his head. He probably did; Scarlett’s insomniac roommate was prone to catching up from lost nights through naps.
“Fix it?” Scarlett stared back into the sink again. It wasn’t moving.
“Did you use the plunger?” Jacen hollered, less muffled. Good; he’d probably taken the pillow off his face.
Scarlett wrinkled her nose at the plunger, now sitting in the other side of the dual sink, dripping brown gross sink-water. “Yes, I used the plunger. It didn’t fix it.”
Jacen sighed loudly enough for her to hear it from where she was standing. “I may have a penis, but I do not know how to fix a sink.”
“What about Zayne?” Jacen’s boyfriend had fixed their dishwasher once before.
“He’s working, and I am not calling him to come over and unclog our sink. Look it up on YouTube.”
Scarlett closed her eyes. Yeah, this was probably her responsibility, and unfair to pawn it off on Jacen or his boyfriend. At least she’d had breakfast. Even if breakfast had involved seeing Megan again, Megan who she’d once been friends with, Megan who she had spent two hours this morning psyching herself up to go see. She probably could have just texted Megan about the whole Juliet thing, but she didn’t even know if Megan had the same phone number. Of course, this was Megan; she wasn’t really into change, was she? Every time Scarlett had seen her around town, she’d looked the same—same unfortunately plain haircut, same unflinching expression, same utilitarian style. She’d seen Megan’s old convertible at the Starlite every time she went to get groceries at Winn-Dixie. Still, Megan today with her diner name tag, waiting tables just like she had been forever ago... It was like going back in time.
Too bad she couldn’t actually go back in time.
A half hour later, Scarlett was set up on the kitchen floor with a disassembled pipe, a bucket of trash water, and a YouTube video she’d watched a dozen times that seemed to be missing a few key steps. Scarlett leaned back against the stove and took a break, surrounded by under-sink assembly parts. This was not how she’d wanted to spend her day. She still had actual work to do, another data-entry gig she was handling remotely. It wasn’t hard, but it took time, and she’d hoped to be done by now. Maybe if she hadn’t gone to the Starlite, she could have finished already. She still wasn’t sure how to feel about that trip, or about seeing Megan. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but Scarlett had often done a lot of dumbass things in the name of thinking they were a good idea at the time. Her irritation at the clogged garbage disposal made everything retroactively seem just as irritating.
The thing about seeing Megan again is how her judgment seemed to follow Scarlett home. Megan seemed to stand over Scarlett, arms folded across her chest, frowning slightly, casting aspersions on another one of Scarlett’s choices like she always had back in high school. It wasn’t mean, per se, but it always implied, I thought you were better than this. Even today, she seemed to judge Scarlett’s decision to tell her about Juliet’s message in person, or maybe judging the very sight of Scarlett in the diner. She’d run from that judgment once, and here it was again, settling into her apartment like another roommate.