A Petty Lie

I recently lied to my best friend about returning her book. She lent me 'The Great Gatsby' a few weeks back, but I forgot it in my car and the sun scorched the cover when I left it there. Instead of owning up to losing it or buying her another copy, which is just as cheap, I spun a story that I'd given it to someone for their birthday, hoping she wouldn’t catch on. Now every time I see her carrying 'To Kill a Mockingbird', guilt eats away at me. It’s a tiny thing but it's gnawing at my conscience.