In Honor Read Free Page B

“Maybe. But the real issue, Honor , is that you were supposed to be taking care of her for Finn.” He surveyed the car, hood to trunk. “I don’t think he’d be too happy with this.” He swayed, then focused his eyes right at me, and in that second I couldn’t stand him. I’d heard he’d gone and partied his football chances away, but I didn’t imagine it’d be this bad.
    “Yeah? Well, he’d be disgusted with you right now.” I took a step closer, then immediately regretted it when his thick, boozy breath hit me. “You’re a wreck, Rusty. Following right in your dad’s footsteps, I see.” I nodded at the bottle, but he didn’t say anything, so I kept going. “The least you could have done was show up at your best friend’s funeral sober. He would have.” Guilt stung inside me somewhere. I’d known Rusty for so long, I knew exactly where to hit him: Compare him to his dad, and compare him with my brother. One he hated, the other he’d looked up to as much as I had.
    He set his bottle on top of the car, stared past me with bloodshot eyes, then stumbled to the open hood and leaned in. I didn’t move. This all felt so, so wrong. Finn would have hated this. He would have hated Rusty this way and me so angry. He would’ve found a way to smooth it over like he’d always done with everything.
    Rusty yanked at something, and the rumble of the engine jumped noticeably louder. He stood back and nodded to himself, then seemed to remember I was standing there. “Carburetor needed more air. No point driving around in a muscle car when it doesn’t sound like one.”
    I looked at the ground, silent, and kicked a piece of gravel with the toe of my boot. “Right.” I leaned back on the side of the car, and he shut the hood and ambled over next to me after grabbing up his bottle again.
    “You goin’ somewhere?” He nodded to the cab, where a creased map sat on the bench seat, and now I was sure he’d flunked out. He didn’t even realize it was time for school to be starting up. Good. No need for me to mention it.
    I blew a wisp of hair off my forehead. “Just getting out of town for a little while.”
    He nodded, then stifled a burp. “You got family elsewhere?”
    “No.”
    “Boyfriend?” I shook my head but didn’t look at him. He took another drink, then leaned in too close. “Where you going then, H?”
    “Nowhere.” I pushed off the car and walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and rearranged my stuff. There was no way I was actually gonna say it out loud to Rusty. It’d be an open invitation for him to make fun of me. Even in my own mind, it still sounded ridiculous. Going to Kyra Kelley’s last concert to tell her about my dead brother? Because he sent me tickets? Not the thing I wanted to share with anyone, especially Rusty. But it was something to hold close to me, a goal for the moment in the middle of the hazy emptiness all around. A plan.
    When our parents died, Finn was five years old. Even then, he’d figured out a way to deal with it. Gina said that from that moment on, he never stopped moving or playing or planning. He was always busy with something, and he kept me busy too, like if we both always had something to do, we wouldn’t ever have to be sad. And he continued with it, always. He focused on concrete things he could accomplish. In high school it was grades and football and his car. It was why the Impala was in mint condition. He’d worked on it every day since he got it, telling me about all the places it’d take us one day. And I’d sat inside, breathing in the smell of old vinyl and thinking how I’d never want to go anywhere without him. Now here I was again, in the cab of the car, thinking the same thing, but about to do it anyway.
    Rusty ducked his head into the cab on the driver’s side and turned the engine off. Then he slid in behind the wheel and looked at me with quickly sobering eyes. “Where you goin’?”
    I tucked my map beneath the seat