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New Mexico is where it starts. The road trip might start in Beacon Hills, but whatever it is, it starts at the Array
Somewhere between Chapultepec Castle and the step pyramids - stops on a list that Cora found on some travel blog - they stop for the night. The hatch is open and Cora still sleeps with her head down by the rear of the Toyota. When Lydia asks, for the third time Cora explains, "If someone or something attacks us, princess, I'm a little more useful than you."
"You've never heard me scream," Lydia counters immediately, a little prim but with a heartbeat that hammers in her chest. "And, hopefully, you'll never have to," she tacks on before turning away.
Cora grumbles but lets it go, lets the entire trip go. She plays Facebook games on her phone until it dies, ignoring the fact that Lydia is awake and too quiet. She needs to sleep if they want to make Lydia's arrival time in El Salvador.
No matter what Derek says on every one of her Facebook statuses, Cora is not dawdling. They have an itinerary, courtesy of Lydia, and they have stayed on time since Lydia kissed her in New Mexico.
Not that she wants to tell her brother that, and not that she ever thinks about it, anyway. Cora liked Lydia in New Mexico because she forgot to be superior and fake in the face of big dishes of space whatever. It had nothing to do with Lydia's grin or her buzzed-up excitement. It had nothing to do with her piña colada lip balm, and Derek was better off not knowing if it did.
"What flavour did you want?" Lydia asks, annotating the itinerary for the third time in as many hours.
Cora shrugs. "You can order for me if I can order for you," she says, part of it a challenge and part of it knowing Lydia would never take her up on a recommendation.
The meaty ice cream and black beans are worth it for the look Lydia gets on her face when faced with avocado ice cream. She laughs when Cora tells her about Derek's foray into spaghetti ice cream and even admits that the avocado is amazing.
They drive through Ecuador - Cora has no idea what happened in Beacon Hills in the year she was gone, but she knows Lydia hates to look down. While they make it to Kuelap a day early, they leave three days late. Lydia checks in on Facebook just to bother the people bothering them about the itinerary.
"Scott says we should take all the time we need," Lydia notes, keeping Cora updated on the Facebook debacle from her perch in the passenger seat. "Everyone else is less supportive."
Skipping through tracks with one hand, other on the wheel, Cora asks, "Anything notable?"
After ten hours in the car, Cora is ready for anything that might be somewhat funny. Instead of answering, Lydia hums before her thumbnails are clicking against her phone screen.
Cora's phone makes a little noise between tracks and she glowers at it until it starts to play more generic alt rock.
When she looks at it later, with Lydia in the shower and the sounds of Lima at night soaking through the walls, Cora thinks to look at it.
At the request, she just sits in the quiet until the water goes off. In something that is not panic, she hits accept and switches back to Candy Crush.
"It's all yours," Lydia offers a minute later, walking out of the bathroom with damp hair and a cloud of fog.
There are about zero explanations and Cora is too tired to look for any, so she showers.
They set themselves back another day just because they can, but also because Lydia said they should. During the morning, Lydia crawls TripAdvisor for ideas - "Is there anything to see in this city that isn't a church?" - and Cora sends out a few texts.
They end up driving north again because Lydia wants to see Caral. By the time they head back down to Lima, Cora has managed to get some information about something the can do with their night.
"We're four days behind the itinerary," Lydia points out as she looks for 'club appropriate' clothes. "We need to sleep tonight."
Trying not to think about it, Cora smirks. "I thought maybe I could hear that scream of yours, tonight."
Lydia drops a skirt back into her bag and spins on Cora, furious. "That is never going to happen."
It was a joke but Cora watches Lydia storm into the bathroom, anyway. The shower goes on, then off. After a moment, the door locks.
Hales are nothing if not patient and Cora waits. If Lydia wants to be a brat, Cora can pretend not to care. There are worse things in life.
When she wakes up in the morning, Facebook says Cora is single again.
Lydia already has the car packed. "Are you ready or are you planning to sleep all day?" she asks, walking back in and giving the room a cursory glance. "I would like to at least get to Argentina eventually."
So would Cora. So, she does the bare minimum before she staggers out to the car and tries not to look at Lydia.
Lydia is less a mystery, more an infuriating set of contradictions. Cora can understand that, at least. It would be hard to have Cora's life and not understand being difficult, but Lydia…
She stops the next day, just over the Argentine border. "What is your issue?"
"I don't have an issue," Lydia offers, prim and distant. "You're the one who." She stops, as if that could be the end of a sentence, and presses her lips together. "Let's forget about it."
"I'm the one who what?"
"Let's forget about it."
Gripping at the steering wheel with white knuckles, Cora holds back a growl. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be forgetting, even, so please enlighten me, princess."
Lydia refuses to talk and Cora has little patience at the best of times.
The road goes on.
They pull off in Rosario the next night, close enough to Cora's pack that she starts to itch to turn around and run away. There are some things that she has coded into her; the desire to not be home is one of them.
The two of them have spoken little more than a dozen words between them since the night before and Cora has to steel herself before she can ask, "What did you mean?"
"About what?" Lydia asks in that bored, rehearsed tone Cora thought was in the past.
"I'm the one who what?"
Lydia looks toward her with sharp eyes, mouth an angry line. When she speaks, the tone is utter professionalism, "I didn't mean anything. Forget about it."
She leaves the car, then the parking lot, and Cora just watches her disappear.
"What's our room?" Lydia asks when Cora answers the phone at three in the morning. She has yet to sleep.
She wants to go to the Riverwalk in the morning and show Lydia--
"Cora? Are you still there?" Lydia asks, voice soft and unsteady.
"I'll come down; I have the keys." She rings off and pulls on her shoes, grabbing the room keys on the way to the door. She needs the fresh air and to get away from the smell of too-clean and strangers.
She takes the stairs down and, when she finally gets out into the air, Lydia is talking to one of the security members in the wrong dialect, making him laugh.
Cora clears her throat and Lydia looks over with the smallest smile. Cora expected more of the cold routine and wonders if that smile is for the security guard's benefit. She hopes not, she hopes that smile lasts back up to the room.
She feels awkward, though, and the security guard is still talking and Lydia is still listening. "You took off."
Lydia's smile falls and her lips press together, flatten and go grim. She excuses herself from the guard, Lucas, and straightens her shoulders. When Cora is ready to go back in, alone, Lydia asks, "Can we just go to bed? I'm tired."
So they do, and in the close space of the elevator Lydia smells like the rum on her skirt and sweat. In the wide space of the double room, Lydia climbs into Cora's bed and sleeps.
The great theme of their trip seems to be that they resist every urge to talk. Or anything else, even if Cora has no idea why.
She sends out the request on Facebook in the morning while Lydia showers and they have all the packing done. They drive on in silence until they reach not-quite-Buenos Aires and the Silva farm, where Papa Silva sweeps them into the common dining room.
The farm is a sprawling thing with almost four dozen pack members and more cattle than Cora could count.
"Is this the girlfriend, then?" Maguerite asks over medialunas, out of the blue.
Except Lydia confirms it and grabs Cora's hand.
In the morning, Facebook tells her that Lydia Martin accepted her relationship request.
Cora listens to Lydia in the shower and bites back the urge to smile.
After a minute, "Are you coming or not?" sounds out over the dull thud of the water and Cora lets herself grin.