Page 83 of The Glittering Edge

“Uh-oh,” Alonso says.

Penny looks behind her, but when she sees Dylan, she quickly turns back around and sinks into her seat. Meanwhile, Corey stands up, plastering a believable smile on his face. His years of practice are showing.

“Dylan,” Corey calls. “Over here.”

Dylan walks toward them, the angles of her face severe as she regards each of them. Her eyes linger on Penny longest of all, and Penny tries to smile, but she does a bad job of hiding her panic.

“What are you doing here?” Corey says.

“You aren’t picking up your phone,” Dylan says. “I called you twice. And texted.”

Corey glances at his phone, which is face up on the table. Alonso should be giddy to get a front-row seat to The Dylan and Corey Show,but he almost feels bad for Corey. Which doesn’t mean he wants to stick around. From the look on Penny’s face, she has the same idea.

“We have to go, uh—” Penny begins.

“Compost,” Alonso says, quickly shoving a final bite of pancake into his mouth before he stands up.

“Community service for your latest felony?” Dylan asks.

“Something like that,” Alonso mutters.

Dylan doesn’t move as Penny tries to get past her, forcing Penny to squeeze herself against the edge of the booth. Then Alonso grabs her arm, practically dragging her out of the IHOP.

“I feel like we abandoned him,” Penny whispers to Alonso as they head to the door.

“She’s his problem,” Alonso says. But he glances back, hoping he’ll catch Corey’s eye.

Corey won’t look at him. He’s already talking with Dylan. How is he going to explain why he was hanging out with Alonso and Penny? They’re not the most likely trio.

“Hopefully he’s good at damage control,” Alonso mutters.

Corey

DYLAN DOESN’T SIT DOWN UNTIL COREY DOES. SHE WATCHES HIMclosely, as if she’s looking for answers to questions she hasn’t asked and getting angrier by the second when he doesn’t read her mind.

“I haven’t seen you in days,” Dylan says.

“Only three.”

“Four.”

“Okay, four. Sorry, I’ve been busy.”

“I don’t like that,” Dylan says. “Especially when I get a text that you’re here with another girl.”

“You got a text? From who?”

“My brother is a line cook here, Corey. I’ve told you that twenty times.”

Corey should know that, and he mumbles some excuse—that he thought her brother had moved to another restaurant. But his mind is elsewhere, because Dylan isn’t just Dylan anymore. She’s also a witch, whether she knows it or not. Sitting here with her feels like being at the bottom of an oncoming rockslide and not being able to run, or move, or breathe.

What if Alonso and Penny are right? Could the Mayberrys really have cursed the Barrions?

If it’s true, it would mean the Barrions have been wrongly blaming the De Lucas this entire time. It’s not as if Giovanni ever truly confessed. And Corey has heard stories about how much Idlewood shifted in the wake of his family opening Barrion Heating & Cooling in thefifties. As much as Corey hates to admit it, Alonso was right: It wasn’t a good change for everyone.

People have done worse for way less, Alonso had said.

Corey refocuses, eyes settling on Dylan’s face. It takes everything in him to reach across the table for her hand.

---