Page 37 of The Glittering Edge

AFTER COREY GETS HOME FROM OFF-SEASON FOOTBALL TRAINING, HEdoesn’t bother going inside the house. Instead, he finds himself in the backyard, staring into the bright blue pool. He takes off his shirt and dives in, swimming a few laps before he relocates to a folding chair to bake in the sun.

Corey has been spending less time at home since his conversation with Penny. It’s hard enough existing in Meredith House when the curse is breathing down their necks; now there’s an added layer of guilt that Corey told Penny the truth. He put his whole family at risk, and was it worth it?

Corey throws an arm over his eyes. The exhaustion of the past week reaches deep, settling in his bones.

A dark shape moves in the distance. It’s Julian, coming from their grandfather’s house. Charles Barrion prefers his own space, so he occupies the in-law suite at the back of the property. Corey raises a hand, and Julian heads his way.

“How’s it going?” Corey asks as his cousin sits down.

Julian shrugs. His shaggy black hair hides his eyes, and even though it’s summer, he wears his usual black turtleneck. Germs are one of his phobias, and he prefers clothing that covers as much of his skin as possible.

“Grandpa is still pissed at you?” Corey guesses.

“He has a right to be,” Julian says. “I lost control.”

“It happens. He’ll get over it.”

Julian laughs bitterly. “It’s not supposed to happen to me. I’m taking over the company one day.”

Corey sits up. Slowly, so that Julian can see him, he places a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. Julian flinches, but he doesn’t pull away.

“That won’t be for a while,” Corey says. “My dad isn’t retiring any time soon.”

Julian shrugs Corey’s hand off. “It’s not just that, Corey, and you know it.”

Corey sighs. It would be impossible to miss how bad Julian’s agoraphobia has become. He’s in therapy, but his internship at their family’s company is completely virtual. But wasn’t their grandfather fine with that? If the look on Julian’s face is any indication, maybe not.

“It’ll get better,” Corey says.

“Grandpa is probably wishing you were the firstborn grandchild. You’d be a natural at this.”

“Yeah, me. A half-Cameroonian jock.”

“My dad was Indian, remember? It’s not about that.”

Anger takes the place of any desire to comfort Julian. “Really? You don’t think they’d go easier on us if both our parents were white?”

Julian looks at the pool as he cracks every knuckle on both hands. The sound mixes with the chirping of birds, the rustling of trees, the hum of the pool filter. “I know you’re right, but I can’t let myself think about it. Every day is hard enough.”

Corey’s anger goes dull at the edges. Their cousin, Camila, is too young to fully understand the struggles of being multiracial in a mostly white family. But Julian and Corey grew up closer in age, and it bonded them. When Julian was diagnosed with depression, seven-year-old Corey went to the library and checked out a dozen books on the disorder so they could read them together. When Corey’s mom died, he slept in Julian’s bed for a year. They’ve been strong for each other.

Now, Corey wishes there was a way he could help Julian again. That Corey could convince him he’s strong enough to lead their family’s company, that their grandfather won’t always be so hard on him. But Corey doesn’t know how to do that, so he resorts to the mantra healways repeats to himself: “When it gets hard, remember why you’re doing this.”

Julian looks at him. “Why am I doing it?”

“If the company is successful, our family is safe. We might be cursed, but at least we can insulate ourselves from all the other bad shit in the world.”

Julian’s gaze softens. “Right. We’ll keep everyone safe.”

They fall into silence. Corey wants to ask how Aunt Helen is doing, but he already knows the answer. The only sign she’s alive is that she’s leaving barely eaten plates of food outside her bedroom door. Corey’s dad always spends a lot of time at the office, but lately he hasn’t even been coming home at night. Every time tragedy strikes, James spends more time at work, growing their business and the family’s wealth as if that could make up for what they’ve lost.

To distract himself from thoughts of his absent dad, Corey reflexively picks up his phone. Before he knows it, he’s opening his feed and searching Penny’s name.

Her profile is active, but she’s only got a few followers. Most of the photos are faded, sun-drenched; there’s a photo of her mom behind the counter at Horizon Café, a candid of Naomi Salazar putting on mascara, an overhead photo of a leafy plant sitting next to an empty clay pot and a pile of soil. The most recent photo shows a beaming Penny, pointing to her oversized T-shirt.QUICKLIME, the shirt reads in jagged letters, and that’s when Corey remembers: Penny’s dad is already dead.

Corey tosses his phone onto the grass.

He’s not childish enough to believe life should be fair. But the injustice of this whole situation weighs on him, making him want to scream. What if Penny is right? Has Corey really given up?

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