by Elia Winters
“I didn’t know what kind of sleeper you are. Maybe you’re a hard sleeper.” Scarlett’s face was hot.
“I normally am. But normally, I’m not listening to the greatest hits of Joan Jett and the Blackhearts from two feet away.” Megan’s expression was still deadpan, but was that a small smile at the corners of her mouth? Did her mouth just twitch? Scarlett couldn’t look away from the road long enough to really see. Hopefully Megan wasn’t that mad. So far, she wasn’t being a very good road trip companion.
Megan shifted back to a regular seated position again. “We should get a book on tape. I don’t want to listen to this bullshit for the entire eastern seaboard.”
“Are you calling Joan Jett bullshit?” Maybe Scarlett would have to reevaluate Megan’s taste.
Megan stifled a yawn with her hand. “No, Joan Jett’s great. I’m talking about your singing.”
It was mean, but the kind of mean with no real malice in it, the kind of mean that made Scarlett laugh out loud. She definitely deserved that. “Go back to sleep. I won’t sing anymore.”
Megan made another “hmmm” noise and rolled back onto her other side once more, facing the window. She pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Maybe just not so loud,” Megan said quietly.
Smiling in the darkness, Scarlett drove onward into the night.
* * *
Megan jolted awake all at once, with no sense right away of where she was, why her body felt all stiff and her eyes dry, or what had awoken her. The reality came flooding in along with the cool gray light of dawn slipping through the windows. She was in her car. She’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat. And she’d woken up because they stopped.
“Where are we?” Her voice came out croaky, and she rubbed her eyes, which felt gritty and gross. She shifted to sit up, stretching her neck.
“Tybee Island.” Scarlett sounded exhausted.
“Have you even stopped since we left?” Megan said. “Have you just been driving?”
“I stopped to pee about an hour after you fell asleep. You didn’t wake up.” Scarlett rubbed her own eyes with the heel of her hand. “I stopped at this McDonalds because I thought you might also want to pee.”
“Oh.” Megan sat up, checking in with her body. “Yeah. Definitely.” She pushed out of the car, swinging the door open. The seatbelt tugged her back. Face burning, she unbuckled, Scarlett’s gaze nearly tangible on the back of her head. She was probably judging. Megan grabbed her toiletries bag out of the backseat and tumbled out, her legs first refusing to support her and then locking up as she headed for the familiar brick building.
With her bladder empty, she was able to breathe again, and she took time to brush her teeth in the McDonalds bathroom sink and then stare at herself in the mirror. She looked like she had slept in a car all night, but it wasn’t too different from the way she normally looked. Her face was creased from the seat headrest.
But she was on Tybee Island in Georgia. She was in a new state.
She’d finally, finally left Florida.
Megan was still staring at herself in the mirror and smiling when the door swung open and Scarlett came in. “Out of the way,” she mumbled, heading for the stall and then locking the door. “We’d better get a move on if you want to catch the sunrise,” she said from behind the closed door.
“You want to grab breakfast while we’re here?” Megan asked.
“Sure. I’ll meet you out there.”
Megan bought them both sandwiches, hoping Scarlett still liked Egg McMuffins, and was waiting outside when Scarlett finally came out. “I had to brush my teeth,” Scarlett explained. “My mouth tasted like the inside of a sock.”
“Ew.” Megan handed her the bag of sandwiches and the cup of coffee. “I don’t know how you take your coffee, so I had them put cream and sugar on the side.”
“Thanks.” Scarlett took them. “One cream, two sugars.”
“What?”
“That’s how I take my coffee.” She tucked the bag under her arm to dress her coffee. “Cold as fuck out here, huh?”
Megan hadn’t really noticed until she said something. “I’m too sleepy to notice. You must be dying.”
“It’s okay. I’ve pulled my share of all-nighters.” Scarlett stifled a yawn behind her hand. “Let’s go, yeah? It’s gonna be dawn soon.”
“You all right to drive?” Megan asked. Scarlett generally looked put-together, but right now, she definitely didn’t. She had her hair pulled up into one big, messy bun at the top of her head, and she was still wearing her traveling pajamas.
“I’m good. Let’s go. I want to take you to the ocean.” Scarlett climbed in and buckled up. Immediately, she paused, sighed, and closed her eyes. “No. I’m not all right. What about you? Can you drive?”
“Yeah. Better than you. Get out.” Megan climbed out of her car and switched seats with Scarlett. “Which way to the beach?”
Scarlett pointed vaguely down the road. “Straight down there.”
Megan adjusted the seat and the mirrors and pulled out onto the road. Scarlett was already nodding off, resting her head back against the seat. She looked so innocent when she was sleepy. It was hard to remember that Megan was somewhat intimidated by Scarlett. She drove out toward the water and put that thought behind her.
Megan had seen the ocean before, obviously. She lived in Florida her whole life. She’d spent much of her beach time on the Gulf coast, with its bathwater-warm temperatures and gorgeous sunsets. Once or twice, she’d swum in the Atlantic ocean, crossing the state to Cocoa Beach to brave the crowds and get a dip in the somewhat cooler waters. But she never had done that in the winter. Now, headed toward the shore, the buildings diminished in frequency before disappearing altogether, and she followed the brown signs until she reached the parking lot at the edge of the beach at the edge of the water.
The sky was already turning pink with the rosy tendrils of dawn, and Megan’s breath quickened in excitement. She needed to see it from the shore.
Scarlett was snoring, and she didn’t care about this beach visit anyway, so Megan might as well leave her behind. She grabbed her jacket out of the backseat, and her instant-print camera, and opened the car door into the blowing wind.
Damn, it was cold. The wind immediately pulled Megan’s breath from her lungs, and she zipped her coat all the way up to her chin. Too bad she didn’t have a hat. The wind blowing made it feel freezing, and yet she didn’t care. She tucked her neck down into her coat, pulled up her hood, and headed down the path toward the shore.
Tall grasses bent in the wind, stretching out as far as she could see, with the small rolling sand dunes guiding her down to the water’s edge. The sun was just peeking above the horizon as she stepped from the wooden boardwalk down onto the sand itself, her shoes sinking into the white surface with little grains blowing up over the edges. The air smelled like salt and cold, with the wind in her face still taking her breath away. She loved this. She loved the beach, and she loved the water, and right now, she could be happy even though she was alone.
Megan waited with her camera until the first red gleams stretched long over the water. Film was expensive and she wasn’t going to waste it. So she waited, as she always had the patience to wait, as she had been trained to wait over years of photography. In this digital age, it was easy to take a dozen pictures in search of the right one, and she liked to do that as well. But there was also something precious about getting the imperfect shot on actual film. She held up her camera and snapped. The film ejected, sliding out of the slot with a whirring noise, and she cradled the photo while she watched the sun climb past the horizon.
“Would you look at that.”
Scarlett’s voice behind her made Megan jump.
“I was letting you sleep,” Megan said. She wasn’t sure if it was out of altruism or because she wanted to be alone, wanted to have this moment without Sca
rlett making fun of her for it. Another part of her definitely wanted to share this time, this beauty, to have someone who would appreciate it the way she did. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know you didn’t want to come here.”
Megan didn’t want to be vulnerable. She may desperately deep inside want Scarlett’s approval, but she didn’t need it. She could live without it.
Scarlett looked toward the horizon, her eyes going soft. “It’s beautiful.”
Something eased inside Megan’s chest.
Scarlett nodded to the camera still hanging around Megan’s neck. “Why don’t you use your cell phone?”
Megan had fielded that question a lot over the years. “It’s different.” She could explain more, but she sort of didn’t want to. She wanted Scarlett to understand without being told.
Scarlett seemed to get it. “Something real, right? Not just on a screen.”
“Yes, exactly.” A trickle of hope blossomed inside Megan. “It’s permanent.”
“How’d it come out?” Scarlett asked, gesturing toward the photo that Megan was holding close to her hoodie in thin, cold fingers.
“I don’t know yet. I’ll look after.” Megan nodded to the horizon. “I don’t want to miss this.”
Scarlett turned to the sunrise that Megan was watching and fell silent. They stood side by side in the dawn light, watching as the sun crested the horizon like an orange fireball. There weren’t good words for the beauty; if Megan was a poet, perhaps she could capture it, but instead, she was just an ordinary person who didn’t write anything except captions on photographs. The colors faded, one to the next, a panoply of warm hues. In front of her, the ocean waves rolled back and forth, crashing on shore, dragging gravel back with each grating pull.
Finally, the sun rose entirely past the horizon. Megan exhaled and relaxed; she hadn’t realized she’d been waiting. Finally, she looked down at the photo in her hand. It was not perfect; the colors were never as brilliant as they would be in real life, but it captured that moment of dawn and the crisp line of the horizon. It was the photo she had hoped for.
Scarlett nudged her. “Can I look?”
Megan handed the photo over. Scarlett stared close at it, and Megan held her breath again, trying to come up with some kind of retort in case Scarlett insulted her. “It’s a good picture.” Then she handed it back. “I never got into photography. I didn’t think I’d be any good at it.”
“I wasn’t good at it sometimes. I don’t know if I’m good at it now.” Megan looked back down at the shot. “But I take better photos.”
Scarlett chuckled. “That probably means you’re good at it. Did you used to do it back in high school? I don’t remember.”
“A little bit. But I got into it in college because my roommate was part of the photography club.” Megan paused. It was a reminder that her roommate wasn’t Scarlett, but neither of them circled back to that. “I didn’t like developing my own film, but I liked shooting photos. Maybe that makes me a poser or whatever. But I’m into Polaroids. I like the rawness of them.” She was still holding the picture.
Scarlett nodded, but she didn’t comment, and they let it all go.
“You ready?” Megan said at last.
“I guess so.” Scarlett shrugged. “It’s pretty cold. But this was your stop. If you want to hang out on the island, we can do that.”
Megan thought about it. She’d wanted to come here, but she mostly wanted to see the sunrise. She had done that. “I’d like to keep going.”
“We’re four hours from Myrtle Beach. That’s next, right?”
“If you don’t mind.” Megan didn’t want to be a bother. Immediately as she said it, she hated that she didn’t want to be a bother. She hated that she was accommodating Scarlett the way she always accommodated others. But it was too late to take her words back.
“It’s fine. I’ve never been there. It’s probably all closed up, but at least it’ll be a place to spend the night.” Scarlett yawned. “I could use a real bed.”
“I’ll take the next part of the drive.” Megan started back to the car. Before she got in, Scarlett caught her attention.
“Hey.”
Megan looked up, across the car. “What?”
“Congratulations. It’s your first time out of Florida.” Scarlett flashed her a beaming smile, and Megan had to return it.
“Thanks.” With a warm feeling inside her, she got into the car. She put the camera into the back seat, tucked the photo into a pocket of her scrapbook, and turned on the heat in the car. Onward to the next stop.
* * *
Scarlett had thought South Carolina wouldn’t be much different from Florida, and as the highway pressed north through endless miles of country...yeah, she was right. The whole southeast was filled with pockets of culture and heritage and beauty, but I-95 was a single tarmac scar on the landscape. They were going to be on this highway forever. At least Megan was driving, so Scarlett could stare out the window and try to get lost in her thoughts.
“Hey, can you grab that CD case in the back?” Megan asked, disturbing her daydreaming.
“What?”
“The CD case.” Megan looked over at her. “In the back.”
“I still can’t believe you have a CD case. Weren’t you born in the ’90s?”
“Yes,” Megan said, her tone sharp and defensive. “We’re the same age. Well. You’re a little older.”
“Thank you for that reminder.” Scarlett was four months older, and it didn’t matter to anyone after the fifth grade.
“You used to remind me of that all the time when we were in school.” Megan smiled, seemingly to herself. “You’d tell me how much older than me you were.”
“That was fun when I was ten, and not so fun now that I’m twenty-six.” Scarlett wasn’t old, and she knew she wasn’t old, but being the oldest wasn’t a prize anymore. “You’ll be here in another couple of months.”
“That’s right. It was your birthday.” Megan sounded like she was just remembering.
“I have one every year.”
Megan paused, thoughtful. “I just was thinking how long it’s been since I did anything with you for your birthday.”
Was she just full of weirdness today? “It’s been a while since we hung out, Meg.” Scarlett rooted around in the backseat and found the black zipped case. “Any CD in particular?” Scarlett unzipped the case, then immediately forgot her question. “Holy shit.”
Megan had filled the whole case with CDs, and they were all labeled in precise Sharpie writing with multicolored markers. “You named them?” Scarlett asked, flipping through, trying to figure out what the system was. The names didn’t give any indication of what specific songs were on them, but the moods were pretty clear. They were named things like “Kicking Ass and Taking Names,” “Funkalicious Funk Train,” and “Screaming into the Void,” and those were just some in the first set.
Megan’s smile looked impish. “Naming the CDs is my favorite part.”
“So what do you want to listen to? You want me to read them all off to you?”
“Nah. Why don’t you find something that seems chill and upbeat?”
This was an easier task in theory than practice. Frowning, Scarlett started flipping through the pages until she found one that seemed to fit the bill. “‘Hammock Summer Saturdays’?”
Megan’s smile broke out across her face like the sun coming out from behind clouds. “Perfect.”
As soon as the first song came on, Megan visibly relaxed, her whole body softening. Scarlett hadn’t thought about Megan as being particularly lovely. Smart, and sometimes goofy, and quirky, and overly too serious, but not lovely. Scarlett, though, was seeing her a bit differently now. Maybe it was lack of sleep. Today, when they finally got to Myrtle Beach, she was gonna crash so hard into whatever shitty motel bed they managed to find.
; Megan hummed along with the song, tapping her hands lightly on the steering wheel, bopping. Scarlett had never seen Megan bop. “Hey,” Megan said. “Call and get us a hotel.”
“What’s your budget?” Scarlett pulled out her phone to search. Surely Myrtle Beach wouldn’t be booked. She’d assumed they would just find places to sleep along the way.
“No Hiltons. But like, a Holiday Inn, or even a Motel 6. That’s fine.” Megan started humming along with the music.
Scarlett started scanning through the websites to look at hotels and motels in Myrtle Beach. Lots of stuff was closed for the season. That made sense; it was February and who in the world wanted to go to Myrtle Beach in February? Megan. Of course Megan would want to go. Not just one beach, but two.
“I found one. It’s thirty-five dollars per night.”
“Thirty-five dollars?” Megan looked over at her in shock. “Are there actual beds? Or do we have to sleep on the floor?”
“There seem to be actual beds. There are other places in the same price range, so I don’t think it’s abnormal. I think it’s just the off-season pricing.” Scarlett clicked through the photos of the Pink Sands Inn. It looked decent enough. “So I take it this is in the budget?”
“Yeah, no problem. Go ahead and book it. Online or whatever.” Megan waved her hand. “My credit card’s in my wallet.” She dug it out of the center console and handed it over.
“You want me to just go poking around in here?” Scarlett opened the wallet.
“Why not? I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Scarlett would be far less nonchalant about letting someone go through her purse or wallet. But Megan didn’t care. So Scarlett pulled out Megan’s credit card—the only credit card, unlike Scarlett who had about five of them—and called the Pink Sands Inn. Of course the place wouldn’t have any kind of online check-in, so she had to interact with a human.
“Hello?” A bored male voice picked up on the other end.
She’d at least expected the name of the place. “Is this the Pink Sands Inn?”
