Page 113 of The Glittering Edge

A small hand alights on Royce’s shoulder. “Go back to bed,” comes Dylan’s voice.

The words make Corey feel cut open. Like his insides are suddenly visible.

Royce gives Corey a long look before disappearing into Dylan’s house. After Royce walks away, Corey says, “Bed?”

Dylan crosses her arms over her long nightshirt. The lights from Corey’s car land on her frizzy hair, her smeared eyeliner. She’s been crying.

“What is this?” Corey asks, his voice low.

Dylan shrugs. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you slept with another guy.”

Dylan laughs. “It’s been going on for weeks, and you just noticed? Congratulations.”

Corey closes the distance between them. Dylan doesn’t back down. It’s like shewantshis anger, and even though he knows it, Corey can’t stop himself.

“You know what? Sleep with whoever you want. Then they can deal with you.”

“But you think I’m so fun,” Dylan says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Corey wants to scream. “What kind of person does what you did to Penny? Do you have any idea how difficult this summer has been for her?” He stops himself before he can go on. “Why do I bother asking? You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

Dylan’s smiling, but her lower lip trembles. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“Really? Because between you sleeping with another guy and what you did to a girl who deservesnoneof it—”

“Why not?” Dylan says, her eyes shining with tears.

“I shouldn’t even have to explain this to you, but clearly you spend all your time thinking about how to make everyone around you completely fucking miserable.”

Dylan snorts. “God, you really think you’re that great after everything you’ve done?”

Corey loses his next words. Fear shoots through him—does Dylan know about the curse?

She steps forward, and Corey takes a reciprocal step back. “You’rethe good guy, right? Everybody loves Corey Barrion, because he would never hurt people the way his evil girlfriend would. I make you look like a saint.” Dylan’s eyes narrow. “That’s probably the only reason you keep me around. Oh, and I make sure you get laid.”

“That’s not true,” Corey says, looking anywhere except Dylan’s face.

But Dylan doesn’t back down. “Do you know what you talk about when you get drunk?”

Corey turns around to walk back to his car, but Dylan runs around him, blocking the stairs with one hand on each railing.

“You talk about your grandpa,” Dylan says. “You say that he uses everyone around him, including you. He’s got an idea of how he wants people to see him and the rest of your family, and he plays you all likepawns to make sure nobody on the outside knows how fucked-up and depressing you all are.”

“So what?”

Dylan leans in, her eyes unblinking. “You do the exact same thing.”

Corey grits his teeth. “Get out of my way.”

“I don’t think any of your friends know the real you, and I don’t think you want them to. But you let me get too close, Corey, and I seeeverything.”

Corey’s throat is tight and his heart is racing. “Like what?” he says, even though he doesn’t want to know the answer.

Dylan gives him a mean, sad grin. She’s crying again, her smudged mascara running in rivulets of gray down her face. “Like the way you’ve spread rumors about Alonso.”

Corey’s anger falls away, and it’s replaced with something bright and sharp. Panic. “What are you talking about?”

---