Page 25 of The Glittering Edge

“So she’ll wake up?”

Corey swallows. “I don’t think so.”

Slowly, Penny lowers herself into a crouch, digging her hands into her curls and rocking back and forth.

“Oh my god,” she says. “What do we do?”

Corey looks up at the hospital, eyes landing on the fifth floor.Then he kneels down in front of Penny and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Penny looks up, and the full force of her eyes almost knocks him back. Corey gets the strange urge to run away, to pretend this never happened.

“There has to be some way to fix this,” Penny says. “What about Dylan? Didn’t you save her?”

Of course Penny would ask about Dylan. But Corey’s girlfriend isn’t in any danger; that was always the point.

The first time Corey was ever asked to a dance was in sixth grade. Technically, it was a mixer where nobody dressed up, and they played music in a lit-up gymnasium with chaperones standing at six-foot intervals around the perimeter. But for a bunch of middle schoolers, it was the equivalent of prom.

The invitation came out of nowhere. One second, Corey was eating lunch, and the next, Hannah Hartley walked right up to his table and asked him to be her date. Corey’s friends gasped and whooped, but Hannah stood there and watched him. Because Corey was supposed to answer.

So he said no.

Hannah barely made it ten steps away before she started crying. Corey’s friends had gone quiet, and so had everyone else in the cafeteria. But the second Hannah asked him to be her date, all Corey could see was his mom’s face. What if Corey had fun? What if he liked Hannah? It would kill her.

After that, it kept happening. People would send Corey notes, confess their crushes, and ask him if he was straight or not. When Corey determined that hewasstraight, he became terrified of girls, and he would barely go to parties even though he was always invited. Eventually, he couldn’t live like that anymore. He couldn’t just think about protecting others; he had to create some semblance of a normal life for himself.

Then, in eighth grade, Corey started hanging out with Dylan Mayberry. She was hot, and she was mean. He hated the way shejudged people, the way she worked to make everyone else feel small or stupid. She was exactly the type of person Corey would never love.

So he asked her to the movies.

“Dylan is alive because I don’t love her,” Corey says mechanically.

“You don’t…” Penny’s face falls. “Then that’s it? You’ve given up?”

The words hit Corey like an aggressive linebacker. “Given up?” He leans closer, until they’re inches apart. He shouldn’t be angry; he knows better than anyone what Penny is going through. But the words come pouring out. “I haven’tgiven up. I’ve spent every day learning to live with this curse. I’m not a witch, Penny! I can’t snap my fingers and make the world a different place.”

“Then what about Alonso? Couldn’t he—”

Corey’s bitter laugh cuts her off. “Is that a joke? The De Lucas wanted this!”

“But—”

Corey never hears the rest of her words. He’s already getting into his car, leaving her kneeling on the pavement.

As Corey drives home, the look on Penny’s face stays with him: tangled hair, eyes shining with tears, and a jaw set in determination that will hopefully disappear. He gets a sick feeling in his stomach. He shouldn’t have told her. He had this delusion she would be upset, and then understand her mom’s accident was inevitable. Corey wasn’t expecting her to want to find a solution. To fight it.

Penny Emberly is more than a wallflower after all.

Corey pulls into the driveway at Meredith House and puts the Audi in park. Then he lays his head down on the steering wheel and closes his eyes. Everyone at home knows about Mrs. Emberly now. Being inside that house is like being at a funeral.

There’s the sound of an engine, and taillights flash in Corey’s rearview mirror. A rusty blue Shelby pulls into the driveway across the street.

Perfect timing.

Corey unbuckles his seat belt and walks toward the De Luca house. He stops before their dirt driveway. The Shelby’s door opens,and Alonso steps out, wearing one of his ugly robes over a tank top. He looks like a goth Hugh Hefner.

“Hey!” Corey shouts.

Alonso grins. His black eye gives off a sick gleam in the light emanating from Meredith House. “Come to say sorry for being an asswipe?”

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