French Fries and White Lies
LEXI
It feels weird being out and about in the middle of the day, especially when I should be working. The sun is high, casting long shadows across downtown’s sleepy sidewalks right outside the window. The place I’d be if this were any normal Wednesday sits at the end of the row, mocking me.
I hope Bethany May is having a hard time finding my replacement. It might be petty, but after what she did, she deserves it.
Harlow didn’t question the random lunch invite, probably assuming I just happened to have the day off. She wouldn’t be wrong. Technically, I do. And every day from here on out… until I can find something new.
“Hey, sorry I’m late! I was working on a project at home.”
She breezes in, smelling faintly of dry shampoo and coconut lotion, leans down to kiss my cheek, and slides into the booth across from me like she owns the place. The red vinyl squeaks beneath her as she settles in.
“It’s fine. I just got here and ordered our drinks.” I pick at the edge of the napkin in front of me, trying to look casual.
She narrows her eyes at me like she’s trying to x-ray scan my thoughts.
“You look tired,” she finally announces, arms crossing over her chest as she leans back.
“Thanks, Mom,” I deadpan. “Tell me more about how I look like shit. It’s great for my already sour mood.”
“Damn, babe. I was just messing with you. You look great.”
That bright, too-wide smile sugarcoats the truth. She lies so smoothly I almost want to believe her.
“Shut up. I do not. Yesterday was garbage, and I didn’t sleep more than an hour because of it.”
“What’s going on? Pierce being a dick again? Want me to give him a boot to the ass?”
There’s a spark of mischief in her voice that makes me laugh despite myself.
The waitress arrives with our drinks—sweet teas with lemon wedges—and takes our order before disappearing with a promise of a quick return.
The pub is dim and mostly empty, the kind of place where light filters in through heavy curtains and music plays just loud enough to blur the silence.
“No, it’s not Pierce. He’s… annoyingly the only thing going right in my life right now.” I sigh, swirling my straw through the melting ice. “Though, I think the man’s been body-snatched because I never expected him to do half the shit he does for me lately.”
“Really?” Harlow raises a brow. “He used to worship the ground you walked on, Lexi. He was so smitten, he let you get away with anything back then.”
Right. I’d almost managed to scrub that fact from my memory. It was easier that way, forgetting all the sweet, selfless things he used to do when we were teenagers. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he slipped back into that pattern.
But after the emotionally armored way he’d acted when we first ran into each other again, what was I supposed to think?
I wonder if he treated other women like they were the most important thing he could care for over the years?
That thought hits like a sucker punch. A dull ache unfurls in my chest, followed by a twinge of something hot and sharp—jealousy. Gross. It’s not fair to feel this way. I ended it. I walked away. He had every right to move on.
Still, the idea that he might’ve shown someone else the kind of tenderness he shows me now… It makes my stomach turn. And I hate that.
“So, if it’s not Pierce, what is it?” Harlow nudges, pulling me out of the downward spiral.
“I got fired last night.” The words fall flat. “And now I have no idea what I’m going to do. I have zero savings, this baby is only a few months away, and I’m in some fucked-up situationship with the man I never stopped loving—”
Her eyes go wide and her lips seal tight, like she’s physically holding back an ear-piercing scream. I hear the words I just said bounce back in my mind and instantly regret them. I shake my head like I can erase them from existence.
“You need to stop torturing yourself,” she says.
“You broke up six years ago. You’ve both grown.
You’ve both seen some serious shit. But now?
Now you’re here. You can either lean into it and thank the universe for handing you another chance…
or keep paddling against the current and drown, because you’re too stubborn to admit you still love him. ”
“Jesus. Tell me how you really feel.”
Not that I expected anything less from my best friend.
“I love Pierce. But obviously, I love you more,” she says, tone gentler.
“I always thought breaking up with him was a mistake. I know losing your dad like that messed you up, but I always figured you’d find your way back to each other eventually.
” She shrugs just as the waitress sets down our food, the plates steaming and fragrant.
“You sound like a sappy married person. I’m not loving the vibes, Lo.”
“Get used to it, babes.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “But seriously. Stop getting in your own way. You want him. He wants you. So… what’s the harm in being happy?”
If only she knew. If she had any idea about the secrets I’ve kept locked away, she might not be so quick to offer fairytale endings. I’ve buried it deep, convinced myself I had to go it alone to figure things out. But after the venomous threats by Evan’s mom, I know it’s not over.
I thought I was finally free—maybe not mentally, but at least physically—from the shit pile I’d created for myself.
“At least promise me you’ll think about it,” Harlow persists.
If I’m being honest, I haven’t thought about anything else for the last six months. But thinking about it and doing something about it? Those are two very different beasts.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good! Now that’s out of the way. You lost your job? Why?”
I give Harlow the rundown on everything that happened to make me jobless. Her reassurance that the townhouse’s rent isn’t an issue since it’s actually paid off and Pierce should be able to cover the bills until I get on my feet, isn’t as soothing as I think she thinks it is.
Si, can suck it. He’ll live without my rent for a month or two. But the last thing I want is another debt hanging over my head to owe Pierce.
“I’m going to apply everywhere. I don’t care what it is. I just hope I can make it through one interview without being laughed out the door.”
“You know, Josie might be looking for someone at the salon. I can ask her if you want. At least she already knows you’re pregnant.”
“That’d be amazing. I’m desperate. At this point, I’d probably sweep hair for free.”
“Well, speaking of Josie, we were chatting with the other Old Ladies and…” She trails off with a grin that makes me nervous.“We decided we want to throw you a baby shower!”
I blink. I genuinely don’t know what to say. No one’s done anything like that for me. I haven’t even told my mom I’m pregnant. Not that I’ve told her anything since Dad died.
She left. Just disappeared into her grief. And I can’t even be mad about it, because I dove into mine too. We just chose different exits.
“But why? I’m not an Old Lady. Pierce and I aren’t even together.”
“Yet. And the rest? Semantics. You can help or let us surprise you, but either way, you’re getting a baby shower.”
And just like that, I break. The tears come fast and hot, falling before I can stop them. I sniff, trying to blink them away, but it’s no use.
Stupid pregnancy hormones.
Harlow doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me break down into a puddle of my own making.
Until she slides out of her side of the booth and into mine, wrapping her arms around me without hesitation.
She feels like home, something I’ve been missing since she moved out.
Her hug’s grounding, and I let myself melt into it for a second—just one.
“God, I’m a mess,” I mumble against her shoulder, laughing and crying at the same time.
“Please. This is nothing. Did you forget I’ve known you through way worse? I’ll take happy tears any day.”
She returns to her side of the booth, and I half-heartedly pick at what’s left of my food. I try to eat, but my stomach’s uneasy, coiled like a fist with the indecision about Pierce still weighing on my shoulders. Still, the fries are good. Salty. Exactly what I didn’t know I needed.
“So,” Harlow says, sipping the last of her iced tea, “I’ll talk to Josie today. If she’s hiring, I know she’ll have your back. We take care of ours. Plus, I’ll put in a glowing word for you.”
“Thanks. I mean it. Even if it doesn’t work out, it means a lot.”
She gives me a wink. “Obviously. I’m the best friend of your dreams.”
I roll my eyes, but the corners of my mouth lift.
We split the check even though she offered to cover it an annoying number of times. I insisted. I may be jobless, but I still have my pride… and about $142 to my name, which I am clearly open to investing in fresh-fried delicious potatoes and emotional damage control.
Outside, the late spring sun feels too bright after the dim interior of the pub. I squint behind my sunglasses as we step onto the sidewalk, the air thick with humidity, the scent of hot asphalt and blooming magnolias from the trees lining the street.
“So,” Harlow says, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, “what are you going to do now?”
I shrug. “Go home. Probably have a good cry in the shower. Apply for more jobs I’m unqualified for or somehow overqualified for. Maybe lie on the floor and question my life choices, until Pierce finds me and eventually feeds me again.”
She nods, deadly serious. “Excellent plan. Maybe add in a little wall-staring? And I’ll give him a heads up that ice cream should definitely be on the menu for tonight.”
“He’ll take your word for it, and I’ll have a flight ready to go before I even walk through the door.”
She pulls me into one last hug. “You’ve got this, Lex. Even if it doesn’t feel like it yet.”
I close my eyes and let her words sink in, warm and steady. “Thanks, Lo.”
We part ways, her boots slapping confidently toward her bike parked a few spots down while I meander toward the parking lot.
As I settle into the driver’s seat, I pause with my hands on the wheel.
My reflection stares back at me in the rearview mirror.
It’s hard to miss the tired eyes, blotchy cheeks, and a soft swell of belly pressing against the steering wheel.
I don’t have all the answers. I don’t even have most of them.
But maybe that’s okay. Maybe, for now, all I need is a plan to start moving forward.
I start the engine and drive.