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"But--" he started to argue but then he clamped his lips shut, biting down on his protest. He stared at me for a long moment before finally speaking again. "Does your dad really know you're hanging out with me?"
"Yes."
"Are you lying?"
"No." I couldn't look him in the eyes. "He said it was okay, this one last time."
Rook's face whitened. "One last time?"
I didn't answer, staring out the window, watching the houses get smaller and smaller as we drove to the seedier part of town.
"Knight." Rook was insistent. "What do you mean? This one last time."
"I mean, my dad bought a new house. We're moving."
“To where?"
"Just away, okay? Does it matter?"
"It matters to me. Can we still talk in school?"
"We won't be going to the same school anymore."Thank God.I wouldn't have to look him in the eyes after today.
"Oh."
The car was silent for a long moment, then finally, his voice small, "Is that why your dad said it was okay to see me?"
"Yes." My throat burned. The deception wasn't my first, nor would it be my last. My world was riddled with them and, one day, I would drown in them.
Rook stared at the floor, growing quiet, and more guilt flooded my system.
Rook was a scholarship kid, and because of that, an outcast. I was the only person who didn't care about how much money was in his bank account.
His tuition was paid for by generous committee members, otherwise known as the pompous men who liked to pretend they gave a shit about the community, when really, they were looking to funnel their dirty money through the system.
I knew this because I was one of those people. I'd arranged abuelo's money to continue to pay for Rook's scholarship when his sponsor backed out.
Just like those men, my corruption knew no bounds.
I did it for selfish reasons––IlikedRook.
But I was his only friend and my absence would be felt.
Everything in his life was about to change and I was too goddamned rotten to do anything about it.
The car ride was silent until we pulled up to the old liquor store.
"Wait here." I stepped out, my heart squeezing in my chest as I checked my surroundings.
It should be safe here but you never knew.
I went inside and, instead of going straight to the counter, browsed through the shelves, finally picking out Old Forester whiskey.
The man at the counter didn't blink at my age, just took the bottle and shoved it into the brown paper bag, not ringing it up. Then he grabbed another brown paper bag out from under the counter and passed it over.
"For fuck’s sake," I growled, not taking it.
He gave me a dull look, his eyes dead. "They're clean."