Page 20 of Hairpin Curves

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.”