Page 36

Corey

“COREY?”

Corey presses pause on the show he was watching and looks up from his phone with bleary eyes. He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting in the chair next to Mrs. Emberly’s hospital bed. He couldn’t stand to be at home; it’s one of those days where even talking to his family makes him angry. Everyone knows Grandpa Charles changed the hierarchy, and now Corey will be CEO after his dad retires, but nobody is addressing it. They’re all pretending this is the way it’s always been. Meanwhile, Julian is avoiding him, while Corey’s dad and grandfather keep emailing him reports and financials.

Today, it was too much, so Corey turned his phone to “do not disturb” and came to the hospital. If home is miserable, at least he can visit Mrs. Emberly. It’s better than wallowing in self-pity.

Except Corey forgot to text Penny he was here. He thought he’d be in and out, but looking at the clock, he’s been here for two hours.

“Sorry,” Corey says. “I should’ve told you I was coming over.”

Penny frowns. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He stands up. “Here, take my seat.”

Penny shakes her head and goes to stand by the window. She’s wearing a blue tank top, and she looks exhausted.

“How are you?” Corey says. “I know it’s a stupid question.”

“I’m fine. The bike polo took it out of me.”

Corey frowns. “The what?”

Penny laughs under her breath. “Never mind.”

Corey doesn’t want to sit back down, so he goes to stand beside her. He clears his throat, feeling almost awkward. He may not always be outgoing, but he’s never awkward. He knows how to talk to people, to figure out what they want to hear, and he’s more than happy to give them exactly what they want. But with Penny, he’s not sure what to say, and that unnerves him. She’s kind, and easy to get along with, and maybe the least judgmental person he’s ever met. So why can’t he be himself? Maybe it’s the lie he told Dylan. It’s harder to look someone in the eyes after you’ve thrown them under the bus. Or maybe it’s something else.

My type. The echo is hidden in Corey’s memory, and it’s showing itself at the worst moments.

“Did something happen at home?” Penny asks.

“Things there are weird. That’s all.” Corey chews his bottom lip. “Actually, that’s not all. It’s also my mom’s birthday.”

Penny doesn’t say anything at first. Then she shifts beside him, and when he glances at her, she’s crying.

“Sorry,” she says, hiccupping. “God, I’m so sorry. The smallest things make me cry right now.”

“I get that,” Corey says. When Penny keeps crying, Corey reaches out to put an arm around her shoulders. But his arm just hovers there. It feels like too much, touching her like that. He crosses his arms instead, looking away from her and feeling silly.

“Do you think our moms would’ve gotten along?” Penny asks.

“Yeah, probably. My mom went to the café a lot, so they probably talked. Maybe they could relate to each other. They were outsiders for different reasons.”

Penny goes silent at that, and Corey has the urge to explain it all away so she doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Then she says, “Maybe that’s true, but my mom didn’t have to deal with being the only African woman in a small town.”

“You know,” Corey says, “nobody in my family understands that.”

Penny watches him patiently. Moments ago, Corey couldn’t think of anything to say to her. Now, when he opens his mouth, the words come out in a rush.

“My mom made huge sacrifices to move here with my dad. She was a partner at a hedge fund, and she wanted to start her own investment firm. Then, by some twist of fate, she lands in Idlewood. Even the other Black people in Idlewood didn’t know what to make of her. And my family…” When Corey closes his eyes, he sees his grandpa’s face—the way he used to look right through Corey’s mom. He used to sit her far away from James and Corey at family dinners, as if she was a guest instead of his daughter-in-law. And Corey’s mom never said anything.

“No one in my family ever acknowledged how lonely my mom was,” Corey says. “Maybe it’s because they were all so wrapped up in their own grief, but I don’t think that’s enough of an excuse.”

Penny makes a thoughtful sound. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to. But is this on your mind because your family treats you the same way?”

Corey sighs. “Not exactly.”

“Oh. Well, that’s… good? Progress, maybe?”

“Maybe.” Corey tries to choose his words carefully, but there’s no delicate way to say this. “My grandpa wants me to be the next CEO.”

“ The CEO? Of Barrion Heating and Cooling?”

“Yeah.”

Penny goes silent. When he glances at her, she’s watching him.

“What?” he says.

“Corey… that’s a lot.”

“I know.”

“But you’re happy? You want this?”

Corey runs a hand over his curls. “My dad loves to say that we don’t get to choose what sacrifices we make.”

It’s better than saying the truth: that he doesn’t want it. That sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he daydreams about driving away and never coming back.

There’s another pause, and Corey is afraid he’s said too much. Penny didn’t ask to be on the receiving end of Corey’s family drama. But then Penny says, “My dad was supposed to inherit a business, too.”

“Really?”

“It wasn’t anything like your family’s company. It was just a mechanic shop.” Penny tucks a few curls behind her ear, and half of them immediately escape into her face again. “He wanted to do music. Like, grunge rock, lots of growling. But his parents were super-religious, and they wouldn’t even let him take guitar lessons. They thought it was devil stuff, I guess.”

“But he learned to play anyway?”

Penny nods. “When my grandparents found out, they had a huge fight, and they cut my dad off. They live in Florida now. I’ve never even met them.”

“Did they know he got cancer?”

“They did, but they didn’t visit. They didn’t come to the funeral, either.”

Corey feels suddenly cold. He and his dad don’t have a good relationship, but what would his dad do if Corey died? He’d be sad. He’d plan a gigantic funeral. He’d probably retreat even further into work.

At least, that’s what Corey wants to believe.

“I always hear about your dad’s band,” Corey says, changing the subject. “Quicklime, right?”

Penny smiles. “My mom has pictures of me at their concerts when I was a baby. I had those big headphones on.”

Corey pictures it: tiny Penny with her curly hair and concert headphones. “Cute.” Penny’s smile disappears, and he realizes how that sounded. “I meant you as a baby. But you’re also cute now, I mean.”

Penny looks stricken for half a second. Then she laughs.

“That made me feel better,” she says.

“What did?”

“Knowing that the great Corey Barrion says the wrong thing sometimes.”

“Shut up,” Corey says, but he laughs, too. “Don’t ever tell anyone.”

“Cross my heart.” She pauses. “So. What would you do? If you weren’t going to take over the company, I mean.”

Corey opens his mouth to answer, but his mind is totally blank. “I don’t know.” The truth of it rings inside him. He feels hollow. Who is he outside of being a Barrion? Who would he want to be? He must’ve thought about this at some point in his life, but he can’t remember.

Maybe Penny can feel the change in Corey’s mood, because she shrugs. “I don’t know what I want to do, either.”

The difference is that Penny will have the space to figure it out. Corey’s entire future is now laid out before him—and it leads to a gilded cage.

Corey doesn’t want to continue the conversation, so he opens the lock screen on his phone. But the show he was watching immediately starts to play.

“Oh shit,” he says as the poltergeist screams at the half demon in a high school hallway. “Sorry, that was loud.”

But Penny is staring at his phone, jaw unhinged. “Is that the new episode of Amityville High ? From last week?”

“Oh yeah. You watch the show?” Penny is still staring at Corey’s phone, so he laughs. “Guessing that’s a yes.”

“I’m trying to figure out what’s happening in this scene. Oh my god, this is the school dance?”

“You haven’t seen this one? Francois is about to throw down.” Corey drags his finger along the screen, rewinding the episode to the beginning. “Want to watch it?”

Penny looks up at him in shock, as if this is the last thing she expected him to say. “You’re sure you have time?”

Corey realizes he’s smiling. He’s filled with a mosaic of good and bad, of hope and fear. A few days ago, he was at IHOP with Dylan, thinking about how Penny wasn’t really his friend. She was just a pretty girl who reminded Corey of what he couldn’t have. But maybe Penny could be his friend. Doesn’t she already know more about him than anyone else outside his family? Besides Alonso , he remembers, and that makes him laugh again.

“What?” Penny asks him.

“Nothing,” he says. “And yeah, I’ve got time.”