Page 17 of Hairpin Curves

“I didn’t do anything. You already know that.” Megan’s voice was a low mumble. She was apparently touchy about this subject. Scarlett was a lot of kinds of bitches, but not the kind who poked at somebody who was down. Not even someone who’d been previously untouchable, like Megan.

But Megan wasn’t untouchable now. Megan wasn’t as prim and proper and frustratingly immune to human failings the way Scarlett seemed instead to be entirely comprised of human failings. Megan was a person, and she lost her job and she was going on this road trip for probably a bunch of personal reasons. And the wedding or whatever. But along the way, she wanted to see some of the country, and Scarlett could help.

Maybe this was a terrible plan overall. But they were in it. They were headed for the Florida border in this tiny, mediocre car from 2008 or whatever, and that was that.

This Toyota Camry. Scarlett scanned its nondescript interior with all its boringness and its beige decor, matching Megan’s beige house. Everything was the worst color, and Scarlett could not deal with it any longer.

“Why do you still have this boring-ass car, Meg?” Scarlett waved a hand around at it.

That got Megan’s attention. “What?” She sat up straighter. “What’s wrong with my car? It’s a convertible.”

“It’s old.”

Megan seemed to be grasping for how to respond. “Well...it’s red.”

“Red? Yeah, it’s red, but the whole inside is beige. Everything is beige! Why do you live such a beige life?”

Megan shifted even more over toward her, an incredulous expression on her face. “I don’t live a beige life.”

“Yes you do. Your life is so fucking beige it’s killing me.” It wasn’t what Scarlett wanted to say. She wanted to say, You’re so much more interesting than this, or You’re the most capable person I ever knew, but those words slipped away in favor of the angrier, crueler ones, the ones that would make Megan actually react.

Megan folded her arms. “Fuck you, Scarlett. My life doesn’t require your approval.”

Scarlett fumed, because Megan was right and now they were fighting. They were fighting less than an hour into this drive, and it was her fault, because she didn’t know how to be around Megan anymore. “I just thought you wanted to make your life more interesting. Like you weren’t satisfied with how things were.”

“No, I didn’t say that.” Megan’s frown was sour now, more of a pout than a frown. “I said I’ve never been out of the state and have some places on my goal list.”

“Sure. You sounded real satisfied.” Scarlett snorted. So much for Megan showing any vulnerability at all. “You’re probably totally satisfied with everything. I bet you come every time you fuck, too.”

Megan spluttered, obviously shocked out of her words, and her skin flamed up fast with a complete blush. Scarlett never saw Megan blush like that. Then again, they’d almost never talked about sex. A few conversations in high school where Scarlett had tried to get Megan to tell her all her secrets the way Scarlett told Megan hers, but Megan never had anything to share and so Scarlett had eventually stopped asking.

Maybe some things never changed. Maybe Megan was still as shy about sex.

Oh, fuck, maybe Megan was a virgin.

Megan couldn’t be a virgin, right? She was twenty-five. Well, there was nothing wrong with being a virgin as long as Megan wanted to be one. Like, if she was waiting, or if she was asexual, whatever. But Scarlett wanted to know, and she wanted Megan to tell her. The desire for information bubbled up inside her like lye, burning her from the inside out. And it was one in the morning, and she was overtired, and hell, she wanted to know, so she blurted it out.

“Are you a virgin?”

Megan stared at her, open-mouthed. “You did not just ask me that.”

She could probably back away or turn it into a joke. That was likely the best decision. “I’m just fucking around. You don’t have to answer that. I just wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“No, no, let’s keep going. I love this. First you tell me my whole life is beige, and then you ask me if I’m a virgin. It’s a delight. Just exactly the right conversation I want to have at one in the morning.” Megan scrunched down into her seat. “I should sleep if you’re gonna drive. Unless you want to insult me some more.”

“What? That’s not an insult. Being a virgin’s not a bad thing.” Scarlett didn’t want Megan to think she was making fun of her. They may not get along well, but Scarlett felt weird inside, thinking that Megan might believe she was being deliberately hurtful. She wanted to get a rise out of her, not make her upset. “I don’t care if you’re a virgin. It’s all right.”

“I’m not a virgin,” Megan finally said, harsh and sharp and all at once, like it burst out of her. “I’ve had lots of sex. Okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” Scarlett really should not have asked. “I told you, it was a joke. I was joking around.”

“Not everything’s a joke, Scarlett.” Megan turned away fully, and reclined her seat. “Wake me up when there’s a rest area.”

The interior of the car went silent. Beneath the tires, the road hummed, blending with the purr of the engine. Scarlett glanced over at Megan’s reflection, and Megan’s eyes were open the first time, but the next time she checked, they were shut. Megan looked all closed up and small on her side of the car.

“You should’ve brought a blanket,” Scarlett said. “You’ll get cold.”

Megan’s reply was mumbled. “There’s one in the back.”