Page 15

Corey

AFTER COREY GETS HOME FROM OFF-SEASON FOOTBALL TRAINING, HE doesn’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 he always 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?

“We used to talk about breaking the curse,” Corey says. “Remember, when we were kids? We said we’d find a way.”

“We aren’t kids anymore. I don’t like fantasies.”

Corey sits up. “Hear me out. What if we contact the witch coven that made the ward?”

“Your dad said they refused to help us.”

“Except they did help us once. We could try again.”

Julian presses his long, thin fingers against his knees. “Look. I know you’re determined not to let this curse hurt anyone, but maybe you need to reconsider. You could get married someday, even have kids, and they’d be safe.”

Corey stares at his cousin, expecting him to say he’s joking. But Julian won’t meet his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

Julian sighs. “I’m saying that you’re young. It’s still possible to enjoy your life—”

“We promised we would never do that. I’m not letting this curse kill someone because of me.”

Julian stares at him, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Everyone dies, Corey. But if you try to cut yourself off from the world, I think that will hurt more in the long run.”

“Which one of us is cut off from the world? You’re the one who never leaves Meredith House.”

Julian’s smile turns bitter. “Yeah, thanks. I forgot.”

Corey’s anger disappears, replaced immediately by that same desire to fix everything. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know you didn’t mean it.” Julian lets his eyes drift beyond the pool to their grandfather’s house. “This curse isn’t going anywhere. Life is good and bad, always. Even if we got rid of the curse, maybe we’d all get terminal illnesses. Or we’d lose the company. What can we do about this curse? The witches won’t help us, we don’t have magic, and Giovanni De Luca is dust. So tell me, how would you fix this?”

Shame wells up in Corey’s stomach and he suddenly feels like an angry child. But he stays silent.

Julian sighs, and then there’s a light touch on Corey’s shoulder. It’s Julian’s hand, clammy despite the heat. It’s at an awkward angle, like he’s never done this before. And that might be true, because earning Julian’s touch is rare.

Corey places his own hand over Julian’s for a moment. Then it’s over, and Julian stands, producing sunglasses from his pocket.

“I’m going to study last quarter’s earnings,” Julian says. “Enjoy brooding.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

After Julian leaves, Corey drops his head into his hands. He needs to get ahold of himself. Julian is right—nothing has changed.

Except Penny’s entire life. She went from the girl who was smiling in her dad’s band T-shirt to the girl standing in a dark parking lot, arms wrapped around herself, begging Corey for help.

Corey was seven the last time the curse killed a member of his family. He thought this time, he’d be able to accept it as a fact of life. To move on. But Corey wants to scream. He wants to tear the earth open with both hands. He wants to fight this curse with every last bit of strength he has.

Even if it’s hopeless.

Corey’s phone buzzes. He scoops it out of the grass and opens the football team group chat. Everyone is going to the drag show at Horizon Café tonight, and they’re coordinating a carpool.

Corey is about to silence the chat when he remembers something: Horizon Café is owned by Penny’s mom, which means Penny might be there.

As Corey’s fingers type out a response, there’s already a plan forming in his mind. It’s foolish. But not as foolish as sitting around and waiting for Mrs. Emberly to die.

He hits send:

I’ll be there.