Page 18 of Hairpin Curves

“Put it on. You’re like some sad orphan, sleeping there without a blanket.” Scarlett hated seeing her like that, even with her sweater looking cozy and soft.

Megan grumbled, and then turned to grab the blanket out of the back seat. She tucked it around her and then went back again, quiet and solemn and closed-eyed in the passenger seat like she was sleeping. Maybe she was. At least she didn’t look like a Dickens character anymore. Scarlett enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Until, of course, she stopped enjoying the peace and quiet. She couldn’t sleep, because she was driving, and she couldn’t talk to Megan anymore because Megan was sleeping or pretending she was sleeping. So she flicked the radio on and waited for Megan to complain about it.

She didn’t.

Scarlett poked through Megan’s presets. She had good channels programmed. Megan was always into music back in high school, so it shouldn’t surprise Scarlett that she still had good taste. She settled on some pop song and let the music play, tapping along on the steering wheel, humming quietly to herself. Maybe she could do this whole stretch, all the way to Tybee Island. Maybe she could let Megan sleep. She wouldn’t have to wake her up and deal with more conversation that she was sure to ruin.

Light snores came from the other side of the car, and Scarlett had to smile. Some people snored like they were terrifying beasts, a dinosaur eating another dinosaur, but Megan sounded like a tiny cat with little purring snores. She was adorable in many ways. That realization was kind of shitty, too. She didn’t want to feel like Megan was adorable. It was safer to think of Megan as frustrating, untouchable, stubborn as hell, holier-than-thou.

The pop song switched from whatever was on to an oldie, Joan Jett singing “I Love Rock and Roll,” and Scarlett had to sing along. She really wanted to sing loudly, as the song demanded, but she kept her voice down instead. Megan didn’t wake up, so maybe she could sing a little louder. She tried it out. It felt good.

When the song ended, a quiet voice came from the other side of the car. “If you didn’t want me to sleep, you could just say so.”

Scarlett grimaced. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was sleeping. But then there was a karaoke bar happening next to me, and so I woke up.” Megan flopped over, shifting to glare at Scarlett from her other side. “You couldn’t have waited until I was awake?”

“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.”