Page 129 of The Glittering Edge

“They’ve got security patrolling the woods, but those assholes didn’t grow up here. I can find every footpath with my eyes closed. Plus…” He holds out his hands, as if presenting himself. “Don’t I look like I belong?”

Penny doesn’t answer. He’s literally crashing the Barrions’ gala, and that makes the liquid heat in her stomach disappear. She looks around to make sure Julian is out of sight. Then she grabs Alonso’s wrist and drags him toward the trees.

“Whoa,” Alonso says. “How are you moving this fast in heels?”

“It’s amazing what fear can do,” Penny says, glancing behind them again.

“Calm down. After tonight, Corey’s whole family will be kissing my feet.”

Penny stops, and Alonso nearly runs into her. “That’s great, but if they catch you here, we won’t have a chance to even try the curse-breaker.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me you’d be here?”

“I—I don’t know.” Penny keeps seesawing between panic and something even more consuming. She can’t look at him for too long without a blush rising in her cheeks. “Can we talk in the woods? I’ll feel better if they can’t see us.”

Alonso glares at her, but he doesn’t argue. “Fine. Come on.”

He grabs her wrist, and then they’re walking again. His hand moves down, and slowly his fingers interlace with hers.

Penny has to remind herself to breathe.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Alonso says, glancing at her.

Penny mumbles something incoherent, but a waiter saves her from herself. He steps in front of them, a bright smile on his face. “Champagne?”

“I don’t drink,” Alonso says.

This is the second time Alonso has said that. The first time was at Village Blues Records, the first time they ever talked about curses and magic. It bothered her before, and she couldn’t put her finger on why.

Now she remembers.

When they reach the tree line, Penny lets go of his hand, putting a few feet of distance between them. “You don’t drink?”

“Nope,” he says. “My dad’s an alcoholic, so it never appealed to me.”

“I thought you were drunk when you wrote that message in my yearbook.”

Alonso’s face grows red. “Oh yeah. That was my story, wasn’t it?”

“Why would you lie about that?”

“You really don’t know?”

Penny presses her lips together. Because yes, she knows. She’s known since that night in the car, when they were at the gas station. He’s looking at her the exact same way right now. It’s how he used to look at her in the lunchroom, and in class. She used to think it meant something else, but now she sees it for what it is.

Does he see the same thing when she looks back at him?

“‘Mad Girl’s Love Song,’ right?” she says.

Alonso goes still. “What?”

“That’s the poem you wrote in my yearbook.”

“So what?” Alonso says, eyes narrowed.

“Did you know you get defensive when you get nervous?”

“Yeah, my therapist has told me once or twice.”

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