“Don’t be rude.”
She laughs.
“Wait!” I gasp. “Take this right turn.”
She has to hit the brakes hard, narrowly missing the turn. Someone honks behind us, and I wince.
“You couldn’t have given me more of a heads up?”
“Sorry.” I shrug. “It’s your fault for distracting me.”
She snorts and shakes her head.
The sign appears in the distance, and I sit up straighter, glancing back and forth between it and Harlow, checking to see if she’s noticed it yet. Her attention is unfortunately—fortunately?—focused on the road as I instruct her to turn into the parking lot. She finds a spot and looks over her shoulder at the sign. Her eyebrows narrow in thought before she gasps. “Holy shit! No. Is thistheBurger Hut?”
I bite my lip, trying to temper my smile as I nod. “Yes!”
It’s the restaurant that was part of TeresasTravels scavenger hunt. The same one I gave her the magnet for as an apology on Christmas.
“This is so fucking cool,” she says and grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers. She meets my gaze, her expression sincere. “Thank you, Lily.”
“Of course. We can’t come to this city without eating here.” I tug on her hand. “Come on.”
The interior has had some slight improvements since I was here last for the scavenger hunt. The walls are painted a vibrant candy red. The vinyl booths, that were all torn up, have been replaced. The countertops look clean and spotless despite the lunch rush. Glancing around, I feel oddly proud of this place and how far they’ve come.
After mulling over the options with one another, Harlow settles on a double bacon cheeseburger, and I ordera smashed turkey burger. Then we slide into a booth in the back corner with our food.
“I can’t believe this is your first time here,” I say for probably the third time. “Ugh, I love when I’ve been somewhere you haven’t.”
She dips a French fry into her ketchup and snickers. “You act like I’ve been everywhere.”
“Feels like it.”
She softly shakes her head. “So, are you excited about becoming an aunt?”
“Probably not as much as my mom is about becoming a grandma.”
Harlow snorts. “That’s an understatement. She talks about her future grandchild daily. Your brother already told her she had to stop buying so much stuff because they don’t want their kid to be spoiled.”
“Good luck with that.” I laugh. My mother doesn’t understand the definition of restraint when it comes to things like this.
Harlow chuckles. She wipes her mouth with a napkin then asks carefully, “Do you miss living in Michigan?”
My first thought ishell no, but then I bypass the painful memories that make me feel that way and admit, “Yeah, sometimes.”
“Would you ever move back?”
I shake my head.
“Sorry,” she says, probably sensing my discomfort. “We don’t have to talk about it. I was just a little curious because your mom is always talking about wanting all her kids back home.”
“Of course,” I grumble. Not at all surprised. I take a deep breath and ask, “Can you keep a secret?”
Harlow leans forward conspiratorially. “Obviously.”
“Okay.” The corner of my mouth tilts up. “My mom doesn’t know this—no one but Em and Casey—but I had this best friend growing up. Her name’s Mikayla, and we were inseparable. She was my next-door neighbor, our parents are friends, so we did everything together. Until Gabby moved onto our street. I didn’t …” I falter. “I didn’t realize that the way I felt for Mikayla was more than what friends feel for each other.”
Harlow tenses.
