But.
If Megan had an ounce of adventure in her body, Scarlett could wrangle a trip to Canada out of it, and they’d both make Juliet happy. Which was probably the best thing to do in this situation. She’d been thinking about it for days, ever since the video chat. It was late, but she had finally convinced herself to go talk to Megan, and she didn’t want to lose her nerve.
So she got out of her shitty car and ran up the front steps to ring the doorbell.
Megan opened the door, her brown hair pulled back in a headband, wearing a matching pajama set because of course she wore matching pajamas, staring up at Scarlett with this expression of bewilderment that hit Scarlett like a punch in the gut.
She used to have a really, really big crush on Megan.
But now, they weren’t there anymore, and Scarlett gave her a thumbs-up, like that wasn’t the most ridiculous way to greet someone. “Hey!” Scarlett said brightly. “Can we talk?”
“What. The hell.” Megan looked past her. “Is this a prank?”
“It’s not a prank. But it’s cold! Let me in.” Scarlett shifted from foot to foot.
Megan stepped aside, and Scarlett stepped into the house. It was the first time she’d ever been in here, and damn, Megan loved beige.
“Your house is nice,” Scarlett said, because that is what you said when you were going into somebody’s house for the first time. “Nice neutrals.”
“I’m not allowed to paint it anything unless I paint over it when I move out.” Megan made a face at her. Megan was always pulling these faces, scrunched up and irritated. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”
“I know it’s late. I needed to talk to you.”
“The internet is a perfectly reasonable option these days.” Megan was wearing bunny slippers, like the kind that had actual bunnies on them, and something about that tweaked a weird little vulnerability in Scarlett’s innards that she didn’t want to question too deeply.
“Can I sit?” Scarlett went over and sat on the couch anyway without waiting for a response. She looked around the room again. Something seemed off. The art looked like the standard kind of art you’d find at Target, but hell, that wasn’t weird. Scarlett got most of her wall hangings at big box stores. It was the stuff on the bookshelves. Megan had always loved romances, so those lined a whole shelf, but she wasn’t really a fan of video game tie-in novels, and there were three full shelves of...
“Metal Gear Solid?” Scarlett asked aloud, squinting to read the titles.
Megan flushed. “They’re Matt’s.”
“Matt?” It took Scarlett a moment to remember. “Your brother?”
“He lives here with me.” Megan folded her arms.
“Meg, you’re not doing the South any favors here by living with your brother.”
“Very funny. He lost his job a few years back and needed a place to stay, so I told him he could rent here with me.”
“A few years back.” Scarlett wasn’t friends with Megan anymore, and she should probably keep her nose in her own business, but the curiosity was driving her into the questions she probably had no business asking. “And what’s he doing now?”
“He picks up some hours here and there at a few different places.” Megan’s tone was evasive.
“Where’s he tonight? Work?” The answer was probably no.
“He went out with friends. And now he’s probably gaming.” Megan grimaced.
Of course it wouldn’t surprise Scarlett at all if Megan’s kid brother was a deadbeat who didn’t pay the bills. He’d been a slacker in high school, but hell, lots of people were slackers in high school. Matt was the kind of slacker who liked to mooch off his parents until they stopped him, though. Maybe they’d finally stopped for good and he’d had to move in with Megan.
“What are you doing here, Scarlett?” Megan crossed her arms over her chest. Even standing while Scarlett was sitting, she looked slight. Megan had always been slim, unlike Scarlett’s bold curves and wild hair, and her pale skin looked especially pale in the dim light. She didn’t seem to ever get much color, even during the hot Florida summers when she and Scarlett used to spend all their time after school swimming and sunbathing outside. Now, the paleness made her look unwell.
“Are you okay?” Scarlett was asking before she thought about it.
Megan waved her hand. “I’m fine. I’m less fine if you don’t answer me.”
“Okay.” Scarlett interlaced her hands, pressing her palms between her knees, and leaned forward on the couch. “Do you actually want to go to Juliet’s wedding?”
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?”