In Honor Read Online Free PDF

uninterrupted triple play of REO Speedwagon, we pulled in to a gas station that looked like something out of one of those movies where some old creep with missing teeth is behind the counter waiting for an unsuspecting customer to walk in. I yanked my boots on and ran around the side, to where I’d seen a bathroom sign. When I got back, Rusty was standing next to the gas pump, gulping down water from a gallon container. He set it down on the trunk with a thud, then popped open a bottle of aspirin and threw a few in his mouth, not bothering with any water to swallow them. I came around to the pump.
    “Did you pay for the gas?”
    “Yeah.” He still looked like hell, but I could tell from his eyes he was sobering up.
    “Thanks,” I said, then stood there awkwardly for a second when he didn’t answer. “I’m gonna get some candy or something. You want anything else?”
    He shook his head as he pulled the nozzle out of the tank and shut it. “Nope. I need to sleep this shit off.” Without another word, he screwed the gas cap back on, walked around to his side of the car, and got in. Charming.
    A set of bells jangled on the door when I pushed it open, and a loud fan blew a cloud of cigarette smoke and perfume right at me. “Hi there,” a girl’s voice said from behind the counter. She was a few years older than me, and pretty—honey-colored hair, blue eyes, thick black eyeliner. The kind of girl Rusty’d probably hit on as soon as he walked in. Nowhere near the toothless old guy I’d been picturing. “Your fella out there’s in a bad way.” She laughed. “Still pretty cute, though.” I didn’t know quite how to respond, and it must have shown. She smiled. “Sorry. I get bored is all. You two are the most interesting thing that’s happened all day.”
    I glanced around the tiny store, hoping for a candy rack. “I’ll bet.” She popped her gum and went back to her magazine, and I found what I wanted. I went ahead and grabbed a couple of bags of Sour Skittles, a pack of gum, and a box of Red Vines, because that’s what Finn always bought at pit stops. On the way up to the counter, I stopped in front of a display of little tree-shaped air fresheners. I preferred vanilla, but Finn loved the irony of driving around in the Impala with new car scent hanging from the dash, so I added the familiar blue tree to my haul and smiled. When I took it all up to the counter, the girl at the register set her magazine down, open to a full-page collage of pictures, all of Kyra Kelley.
    “Oh, wow, can I see this?” She nodded, and I spun the magazine around so it was facing me.
    She nodded as she punched the keys and popped her gum. “Just got it in the mail today. Her first interview in a long time, all about how she’s giving everything up. Walkin’ away, just like that. Crazy, you know?”
    I looked at the shots, mostly candid, by paparazzi. Her walking out of a Starbucks, Frappuccino in hand, her going into a sushi restaurant, her in workout clothes and huge sunglasses, carrying a bottle of water. Her in the backyard of her newly purchased home, somewhere “away from the generic luxury of the Hollywood Hills” and closer to family—her words.
    “Yeah,” I said absently. “I do.” I looked around for the magazine rack. “Got any more copies of this?” There were no magazines in the store.
    “Nah, it’s mine. But I’ve read it five times already. Take it.” She grabbed it and slid it into the brown bag with my candy.
    “Really? Thank you . . . I . . . thanks!”
    She smiled. “No problem. Thank you for dropping by with your hot, hungover boyfriend. You two have a nice trip.”
    The bells jangled again as I pushed through the door, flipping to a full-page photo of Kyra Kelley on stage, wearing a smile that was all hope and light. It didn’t matter that Rusty was leaned back against the seat, passed out again, when I opened the door. I was ecstatic. I had something to go on.
    “Rusty! Wake up. The girl