by Elia Winters
“You don’t see yourself as a catch, do you?”
“I know I’m smart.” Megan’s tone sounded cautious, but Scarlett couldn’t hear deceit in her voice, only hesitation. “And I’m friendly, and I’m capable. I think I’m a good conversationalist. But I’m not beautiful. I’m not somebody that beautiful people want.”
Oh. “Would you believe me if I told you that you’re beautiful?”
Megan laughed, high-pitched and surprised. “No. I’d think you’re just trying to convince me.” She didn’t look away from the road, but she held up her hand to stop Scarlett. “I don’t need any ‘everyone is beautiful’ bullshit. I get that there are different tastes for everybody. But I’m not conventionally beautiful and I don’t need to be. It’s fine.”
Scarlett’s sudden flash of anger was surprising, along with weird feelings about the wrongness of everything Megan was saying. “I think most people aren’t conventionally beautiful,” she began.
Megan interrupted her immediately. “You are.”
Scarlett stopped, heat creeping up her face. “I—I have my own issues. With my looks.”
Megan looked across the car at her, really looked at her, before turning back to the road. “I don’t know why. You look like somebody I’d see in a magazine.”
She wasn’t trying to compliment Scarlett, either. She sounded like she actually believed that. It was flattering, and also kind of fucked up. “Thanks. I don’t see myself that way. I think a lot of us don’t see ourselves the way others do.” There was a whole industry devoted to getting women like them to hate themselves, but that was a separate issue. “You’re too hard on yourself. I could tell you everything that’s attractive about you, but you probably wouldn’t believe me. You’re not hot in the sultry, magazine model way, but that doesn’t mean you’re not attractive.”
Megan was quiet, tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. Finally, she said, “Thanks,” in a quiet voice.
“If the people you’re sleeping with don’t make you feel like they’re the luckiest people in the world to get to have you, then fuck ’em.” Scarlett shook her head. “I mean, don’t fuck them. They don’t deserve you.”
Megan laughed, a bit of relief trickling out in the sound. “Okay.”
Scarlett probably shouldn’t add this, but she was talking before she could stop herself. “And if you’re feeling restless again this trip, well, you’re always welcome to relax with me.”
Megan kept her gaze on the road. “... Thanks.” Her tone was hard to decipher.
Silence fell, and the increasing awkwardness might just kill Scarlett if it continued. “You want to play more Truth or Dare?”
Megan hesitated. “Not really. I’m afraid of what’s going to come out.”
“Do you want to just talk some more?”
“What do you want to talk about?”
Might as well go back to basics. “Well, I’m starting to realize I don’t know you as well as I thought. So...what’s your favorite color? Is it still purple?”
Megan smiled a tiny bit. “It’s still purple.”
“Do you still hate horror movies?”
“Yes.” Megan was starting to relax, her shoulders easing down from where they’d been up around her chin.
“Still get seasonal allergies?”
“These are some pretty crappy questions, you know.” Megan was really relaxed now, though, and even laughed.
“Okay. So...” Scarlett didn’t want to bring it up again, but the words came to her lips before she could stop them. “Are you ever going to forgive me for lying to you?”
Megan was quiet in response to that. Maybe that was all the answer Scarlett was going to get. Finally, she said, “I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me.”
Scarlett fiddled with the cuffs on her shirt. “I was embarrassed.”
“You know, I always looked up to you. I thought you were so damn perfect.” Megan wrapped her hands more tightly around the steering wheel. “It would have been nice to know you weren’t.”
“You wanted me to fail?”
“I wanted you to be human.”
Silence again. Scarlett wanted to get defensive, but parts of Megan’s accusation rang true in uncomfortable ways. She did always hide her vulnerabilities. To her friends, she was the one with everything put together, and even if her life was a mess, she would be an unstoppable force. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I didn’t think you’d understand, because you’ve always been so good at school.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to have done me any good now, right?” Megan snorted. “My life is a train wreck.”
“You’re moving forward, though.” Scarlett waved a hand to the road in front of them. “Literally, at least.”
That got a small smile out of Megan. “What am I supposed to do after this?”
“What about that podcast, or radio show? You said that’s your dream. You could pursue it.”
Megan made a noncommittal noise. “We’ll see.”
Another mile or so of quiet between them. Scarlett didn’t want the quiet. She wanted conversation. She wanted something tangible to build on, something that they could construct in the quiet closed space of this car. “I want to be friends with you again. Can we do that?”
Megan’s eyebrows went up. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”
“You keep going between casually friendly and politely neutral.” And whatever she was the other night when she’d gotten off while Scarlett had breathlessly listened in the midst of her own pleasure. “I don’t know where you stand.”
Megan made a thoughtful noise. “Will you promise not to ghost me again? To actually stay and talk through whatever’s hard, instead of running away or going silent?”
New York came to mind. “Running away is kind of my thing, you know.”
“I know. That’s why I ask.” Megan looked pointedly across the center console at her before returning her gaze to the road. “I won’t be friends with you if I can’t trust you to be here when things are tough.”
“Okay. And what about you?” Scarlett needed something in return for this. “Are you going to make fun of me for the places where I fall short?”
Megan frowned. “Sarcastic humor is kind of my thing.”
“You can give me sarcastic humor, but not about being dumb, or flunking out of school.” Scarlett’s voice was steady, even if her innards trembled at that assertion.
Megan’s eyebrows went up, and her lips formed a little O of surprise. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You think I’m bulletproof, and I’m not. Not about those things.” Scarlett wasn’t bulletproof about anything, actually. “I think you think you can’t hurt me, but you could.”
Megan’s gaze softened. “Okay. I promise.”
Then it was Scarlett’s turn. “I promise not to run away.”
It felt like a vow, and Scarlett wasn’t sure that she liked the similarities. They made her feel all unsettled inside.
“I now pronounce you friends,” Megan said gravely, with a dead serious expression on her face. Scarlett broke out laughing, but something eased inside her chest. It wasn’t everything; it wasn’t dealing with whatever sexual tension seemed to ebb and flow between them. But it was something. It was a start.
* * *
Megan pulled up the collar of her new winter coat and tucked her face into the protective fleece-lined fabric, wind whipping past her skin as she gazed up at the Lincoln Memorial. The marble statue of the president himself stared out into the middle distance, larger than she had expected, looming over her and Scarlett as they stood at his feet.
“It’s bigger than I thought.” Scarlett had her coat collar pulled up over her chin as well, muffling her words.
Megan laughed. “You’ve said that for all of them.”
“They’re all bigger than I thought.�
�� Scarlett shrugged.
Megan took her hands out of her pockets long enough to tug her hat down over her ears. Even with gloves on, she was happier with her hands tucked inside the fleece-lined jacket pockets than out in the wind. She was glad for the millionth time today that they’d started their DC visit by buying some proper winter layers. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here.”
“Why not? You’ve never been here.”
“I’ve never been anywhere. You’ve at least travelled.” It was easy to see Scarlett as worldly, with the experiences she’d had, but apparently there were a few gaps in her travel history.
“I haven’t traveled all that much. It’s only in comparison to you that I’ve seen a lot.” Scarlett nodded up at the statue. “And I’ve never come to the National Mall. Never seen a reason to. But you’ve clearly got a reason.”
“I think everybody should see the monuments.”
“Patriotism and all that?”
Megan considered, staring again up at the bearded figure in the giant marble chair. “I’m not really patriotic. I think maybe it’s that sense of being part of things. Seeing them with my own eyes and not just in photographs.”
“Except the photographs you take.”
The irony made Megan smile, especially since she was already pulling out her camera. “That’s different. That’s to remember after I’ve already been somewhere.” She sized up a photo of Lincoln, trying to get the inscription above his head in the shot as well.
The slight crinkle around Scarlett’s eyes indicated her smile, even with her mouth covered. “It’s neat to see it all. I wish we’d come in high school like every other school seems to.”
“I wish I’d done a lot of things in high school.” Megan said it without much thought, the words slipping out unbidden. Not that it was untrue. She had put off so many things for so long. Even now, finally doing things she wanted just because she wanted to do them, her thoughts revolved heavily around what she had missed out on.
Scarlett shifted from foot to foot, and then turned to gaze out over the reflecting pool. “What’s next?”
“This is the last stop.” Megan wasn’t sad about it, though; her feet ached from walking, and her cheeks were frozen with cold. It wasn’t even that cold out, but being outside for most of the day had taken its toll. At least she’d gotten a good night’s sleep in the hotel last night. After a long day of driving from Nashville, they’d both collapsed into their beds with no further innuendo about restlessness or its cure. Megan wasn’t quite ready to let go of the possibility of fooling around with Scarlett, but the time hadn’t been right...and maybe it wouldn’t be again.
Scarlett pulled out the guidebook she’d taken from the hotel that morning, now curling up at the edges from being rolled and stuffed in her pocket all day. “You sure you don’t want to hit any of the Smithsonian museums we missed?”
“We did Air and Space, and Natural History. Those were the two big ones I wanted to see.” Megan could have gone through all of them, obviously, and spent a lot longer at each of the ones they did see, but this was a survey. Not a full trip. “We’ve got miles left to go before Canada.”
The little trolley burger shop where they ended up for dinner had great reviews online, but Megan was skeptical until she started eating.
“This is fantastic.” She sighed in happiness. “It’s so nice to be warm.”
“Didn’t the layers help?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not frozen to the steps of the National Mall.” Megan could get used to the warmth of thermals, especially being outside in temperatures far below a typical Florida day. “But it’s not the same as being warm inside.”
The food was amazing, and as she finished the last of her fries, Megan settled into a contentedness that only good food after a long day of walking outside could allow. She could ignore whatever physical tensions had arisen between her and Scarlett, and just enjoy their rekindled friendship. Any complicating factors were just because of her own newness to having a friendship with Scarlett again, and the forced proximity of their time together.
Scarlett had an odd expression on her face by the time Megan stopped her train of thought and brought it back to the table where they were eating. “What?” Megan asked.
Scarlett glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s a little after six. How are you feeling?”
What was this about? “I’m a little tired, but I’m okay.” Megan was getting to recognize Scarlett’s expression as one that led them into mischief. “Why do you ask?”
“If we left now, we could be in Manhattan by midnight. Or earlier. It’s only four hours.”
Four hours of driving, now, when she was tired...but then to be in New York City tonight. They hadn’t gotten a hotel for tonight yet, deciding to play their DC plans by ear and find something afterward if need be. “Where will we stay tonight?”
“I could find us something in Manhattan. Some place with a parking garage.” Scarlett was already pulling out her phone and typing. “It won’t be cheap, but I know it’s one of the stops you’re most excited about. We could get there tonight.” She held up her phone to Megan, showing her a list of hotels on some booking app. “Look. I could book something for us right now.”
“Are you just saying this for me?” Scarlett was being really selfless, if she was willing to drive another four hours just to get Megan to the city earlier than they’d considered.
Scarlett’s eager expression shifted to something more hesitant, and she turned aside, biting the inside of her cheek. “I think you’d really like the city. I got excited to show it to you. And I kind of miss it. I haven’t been back since I moved away.”
Megan wasn’t going to say no to that. “Then let’s do it.”
After the traffic of DC, the highway rolled out ahead like blissful relief, and Megan’s tension eased away as they drove north in the growing darkness. Scarlett seemed in good spirits, too, humming quietly to herself in the stillness of the car as she steered them north. Maybe Megan could get some of the answers she’d been hoping for.
“Hey, Scarlett?”
Scarlett made a noise.
“Why’d you move to New York?”
Scarlett stayed focused on the road for a long moment, maybe trying to decide whether or not to answer. After all, she had very recently shut down this line of questioning altogether.
“I ran away.”
Megan waited, but Scarlett didn’t elaborate. “I think if you’re twenty-three, it’s just called moving,” Megan said.
Scarlett smiled, thin and without teeth. “My life sort of went to shit all at once: I got laid off from my retail job, my roommate told me she wasn’t renewing the lease, and I discovered that my new boyfriend was actually married. So I ran away. I answered a Craigslist ad for a sublet in Queens, sight unseen, threw all my stuff in a U-Haul, and moved to New York.”
Megan looked down at where Scarlett’s arm lay on the center armrest, inches away from her own. She wanted to touch her, itched to press her hand to Scarlett’s and squeeze. Swallowing, she put her hands in her lap. “What did you do for work?”
“Anything I could. I tried waiting tables, but I was really bad at it. Couldn’t do the barista thing, either. Ended up doing third shift loading cargo for a trucking company.” She smiled. “I think the boss just felt bad for me, because I was bad at that, too. Anyway, I kept it up for a while, but it wasn’t like I was happy or anything. The city was great, but it wasn’t for me. Eventually my mom called and convinced me to move back home.”
Megan had always liked Scarlett’s mom, who was young and kind and endlessly patient. “I’m glad you did.”
Scarlett smiled, a little bigger, a little more relaxed. “Yeah, me, too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this story before?” It was unfortunate, but it wasn’t like Scarlett had done something terrible.
&n
bsp; “It’s one more dumb Scarlett thing. An impulsive, rash decision that turns out to be a terrible idea.” Scarlett sighed. “I feel like my whole life is a string of terrible ideas brought on by being too impulsive.”
“I could use some of that impulsiveness.” Megan seldom did anything without a pro/con chart. “I’ve become boring.”
Scarlett snorted, surprising Megan into looking over. “You’re not boring,” Scarlett said. “You’re methodical, yeah, but not boring.”
“It’s been less than a week since you said I lived a beige life.”
Scarlett shrugged one shoulder. “So, I was wrong. I’ve learned a little more about you since then. Like, you take beautiful photographs and put them in beautiful pages in your scrapbook. And you’re terrible at snowball fights.”
“You fight dirty!” Megan objected, but Scarlett just kept going.
“I’ve learned that you’re a real asshole when you haven’t eaten, and you like paper maps better than the GPS. And you name your mix CDs.”
“None of these are particularly not-beige things,” Megan said.
Scarlett looked over at her, eyes twinkling. “Okay. You want the not-beige things? I’ve learned you sing like a professional, and everybody in that karaoke bar wanted to go to bed with you.” As Megan tried to object, Scarlett talked over her. “Also!” She reached across the space to press a finger to Megan’s lips. “Also! I’ve learned that you’ve slept with eight people and aren’t at all as straight as I thought you were.”
Scarlett’s finger pressed into the soft skin of Megan’s lips, and Megan’s heart began to race. When she opened her mouth again to speak, Scarlett’s finger brushed the soft pad of her inner lip, and Megan had to resist the urge to chase that fingertip with her tongue. Adrenaline seared through her. “And,” Megan said, speaking before she could let herself think, “you know what I sound like when I come.”
