17They were driving back to Odarko on Route 11. Neither said a word for a while until they approached the town limits. Betty was fidgety most of the ride. She would often turn to Scratch, sigh heavily, tut in frustration and shake her head. Scratch wouldn't look at her. He was thinking about his next move. Betty couldn't hold it in any longer.
“Say something,” Betty said.
Scratch glanced at her.
“Oh. Come on.” Betty rubbed her forehead. “I'm sorry I lied to you.”
He wouldn't answer.
Betty rested her arm on the window frame and watched the trees pass by. “You could at least tell me where you're taking me.”
“Going to your studio,” Scratch said. Betty eyed him. “I have some film for you to develop.”
Scratch reached over and placed his hand on Betty's knee. She put her hand on his. Bett
