Page 1 of Just a Little White Lie

LAUREN

When you’re a kid, grown-ups teach you that lying is bad. Yet you spend your childhood watching your parents tell one little white lie after another.

“No, of course those pants don’t make you look fat.”

“Oh no, sweetie, I love this macaroni necklace you made me. I’ll wear it all the time.”

“Wow. That dress is… fetching. You sure you’re loving the bubblegum pink?”

“Honey, you’re a great driver. You’re doing a wonderful job just… WATCH THE ROAD!”

So, you’re told one little white lie after another, and you soon work out that the big lies are a no-no, but the little ones are acceptable. You’re sparing someone’s feelings or avoiding an awkward conversation.

But what theydon’ttell you is that little white lies can roll together and turn into big fat ones.

Then you’re facing down a snowball so huge you have no choice but to bust out the truth.

The ugly, humiliating truth.

The kind of truth that finds you broke, ashamed, and flying home with your tail between your legs.

It’s a truth that has made my parents stop talking to me and my irate brother take over my life.

At the age of twenty-six, I should not be beholden to him, yet I am, because I told a little white lie that snowballed.

You’d think I’d learn from this, but nope. Throw in a little alcohol, plus a bucketload of desperation, and this girl is slipping those fiery pants right back on, because I obviously love having permanent singe marks on my ass.

But let me take you back to the beginning of my end: the day I set foot in New Zealand and realized the bubble I’d been living in had officially popped.

It was time to face every consequence I didn’t see coming…

“I still can’t believe it,” Luke mutters.

“Yes, we’ve established that.” I close my eyes, trying to keep my voice even when all I want to do is yell at him to shut up. I get it. I’m a screwup. Does he have to keep going on about it?

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt Mum and Dad? You’re unbelievable!”

I clench my teeth and keep my gaze out the window. There’s only so long a person can tolerate a lecture, and—I check my watch—an hour and three minutes is plenty. The second he saw me walk through the arrivals gate, he gave me a quickwelcome homehug and then got to work, like his only purpose in life is to lecture his little sister on the error of her ways.

Insert an exaggerated eye roll.

“Twice! They bailed you out twice.” He raises two fingers, and I’m just waiting for the third one to pop up. “But no. You have to go and break the bank for a third time!”

And there it goes. Finger number three. It’s the middle one, and I’m sure he’d love to curl his others down and really show me how pissed off he is.

Not that he needs to add any more firepower to his arsenal. I’m feeling pretty shot up already.

“You owe them over thirtythousanddollars! No wonder they’re not talking to you right now.”

I bite down on my bottom lip until it hurts.

“You’re going to pay it back. Every single cent of it. You hearing me?”

I turn to him and nod, forcing a smile like that news doesn’t send chills down the back of my legs.

Thirty grand.

Holy crap!

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