Page 38

Penny

AFTER SENDING RON A TEXT TO MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T TOW DYLAN’S truck, Penny finds herself sitting in the Prius with her first superdrunk passenger. Dylan took off her shoes the second she got in the car, and now she’s staring at Penny with sick-looking eyes. Booze eyes.

“You’re worried about me. That’s precious.” Dylan reaches out and pulls a strand of Penny’s hair.

“Stop,” Penny says, pushing her hand away.

“People like you remind me why I’m not nice. It’s so easy to take advantage of nice.”

Penny hands her the water bottle. “You need to hydrate.”

“Ew.” Dylan drops the bottle into a cup holder and opens her sticker-covered flask.

“Can you please put that away? I don’t want to get pulled over.”

Dylan smirks and takes a long swig. “Getting a ticket wouldn’t be the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. How’s your mom, by the way?”

The unexpected question makes Penny take a turn a lot faster than she should. The flask flies out of Dylan’s hand, clear liquid spilling onto the foot mat. The smell of cheap vodka fills the car.

Dylan lets out an agonized whine. “That was the last of my Smirnoff!”

Penny ignores her, because if she opens her mouth, she might scream. Instead, she drives with her hands at ten and two and takes nice, slow breaths. Calm breaths. Because Penny is calm.

“If I’d known you were such a shitty driver, I would’ve made you give me the keys,” Dylan says. “Seriously, take it up to the speed limit at least. You don’t have to drive like an old lady to—”

“Shut up,” Penny says, and then she adds, “Please.”

And to her surprise, Dylan listens.

They drive on through Idlewood, passing familiar streets and shops and houses. This town might be the only common ground they have—besides Corey.

Penny flashes back to that evening in the hospital, watching Amityville High with Corey. They were there until late, rewatching their favorite episodes. Toward the end of the night, Corey got quiet, all traces of a smile disappearing from his face. Penny was worried that she’d talked too much, or that he suddenly regretted wasting his day in the hospital when he probably had a million other things to do.

But when he spoke, it wasn’t about that. It was about Dylan.

“Just so you know,” Corey had said, “I told Dylan we’ve been hanging out because we both lost parents. Like, that’s our story.”

Penny nodded. “I guess it’s true, in a way.”

“Yeah. That part is true.”

“Which part isn’t?”

Corey shook his head. “I mean, yeah. I guess it wasn’t really a lie.”

Penny pulled her feet into the hospital chair. “Should I be worried? I know she doesn’t like it when you acknowledge the existence of other girls.”

“Ouch.”

Penny blushed. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re right.” He wouldn’t look at Penny as he said, “You should keep your distance.”

All Penny could do was nod. A few feet away, the truth serum sat in her purse like a knife.

“Turn left up here,” Dylan says, pointing ahead.

“But isn’t your house a few miles down County Road 40?”

“No,” Dylan snaps. “Turn left.”

Penny does, and Dylan goes quiet again. She’s staring out the window, and she looks drunk and tired and sad enough that Penny’s annoyance dissipates.

And then, Dylan drinks the water.

It’s the slowest minute—or is it only a few seconds?—of Penny’s life. As Dylan tilts the bottle back and drinks the entire thing, Penny keeps waiting for her to start coughing, to scream something dramatic like What did you do to me?

But it never happens. Dylan drinks all the water, puts the cap back on the empty bottle, and throws it into the back seat.

Penny swallows, trying to ignore the anxiety that’s making her limbs go tense. She glances at Dylan as often as she dares, waiting for any sign that Dylan knows something is wrong.

“Are you sleeping with him?” Dylan eventually asks.

Penny nearly chokes on her laughter. “ What? No! That’s literally impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Dylan says. “You’re cute, and sweet, even if you’re kind of pathetic. You’re probably a breath of fresh air for Corey. He avoids hanging out with me until I beg him.”

Penny’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. Dylan has no reason to share that with her. On top of it, her voice is a strange monotone. It’s like a layer of her personality has been surgically peeled back.

The truth serum is working.

Alonso said it will only last five minutes, and the clock is ticking. Penny ignores the fact that Dylan gave her a compliment, which is disturbing, and she asks a targeted question.

“Do you know why my mom is in the hospital?”

Dylan falls silent for a moment, and Penny forces herself to keep her eyes on the road.

“It has something to do with Helen Barrion,” Dylan says.

“How do you know that?”

“I saw them at the diner one night. They were sitting on the same side of a booth. I knew something was up.”

The image fills Penny’s mind: her mom sneaking off to meet Helen in the middle of the night, stealing moments together whenever they could.

She glances at Dylan, who seems fine. She’s sitting calmly, hands in her lap, eyes straight ahead.

“How much do you know about the Barrion curse?” Penny asks.

“I don’t know anything about a curse,” Dylan says.

“What about magic?”

Dylan takes a longer pause this time, as if she’s digging through her memories to find the one that will answer this question. “I know it’s… bad.”

“Do you know that you’re a witch?”

“Yes,” Dylan says.

Penny pushes on, her voice shaking. “What’s the history of the Barnhardt coven?”

“We moved to Idlewood two hundred years ago from the Netherlands. People back then could recognize witchcraft quickly, and this town was full of people who didn’t want us here. My family tried to keep to themselves, but eventually, a member of the coven was beaten and murdered in the middle of the night. Someone carved the letter W into her chest.”

“Oh god,” Penny whispers.

“My whole family gave up magic completely. My great-great-grandmother married a mortal and took his name. I found her diaries. She wanted everyone to forget about the Barnhardts, and the last time she used magic was to suppress the memories of the other residents of Idlewood. One by one, she visited their homes at night and whispered spells into their dreams.”

“And it worked?”

“Yes.”

Penny’s throat is tight. “I’m sorry,” she says, and she means it. Their history is more tragic than she expected, and guilt creeps in—guilt that Penny is forcing Dylan to repeat these horrible things, to share secrets against her will.

Not that Dylan would feel bad about this. Which brings Penny to her next question.

“And… what do you think about witches? About magic?”

Dylan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“So you’ve never done magic?”

“I’ve tried. But nobody else in my family believes we’re witches, so I’m on my own.”

“Why do you believe it?”

“Because I want to.”

Fair enough. “Have you tried contacting other covens?”

“I’m not about to throw in with the De Lucas. They’re a bunch of freaks. And when I go online, I always end up talking to creeps who say they’ll give me spells if I send foot pics.”

“Which you… did?”

“Yes.”

“And what did you find out?”

“Nothing. The spells are always useless. Half the time it’s just Rupi Kaur poems.”

“But you’re going to keep trying.”

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not going to be an outcast like Alonso De Luca. He’s alone. He’s always going to be alone. I don’t want that life.”

Penny’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “What about your grandfather? Did he have a reason to use magic on the Barrions?”

“My grandfather didn’t care about them. He got their money for our family’s land, and he gambled it away before he died. Left our family with nothing.”

Penny sighs. This isn’t getting her anywhere. Dylan doesn’t practice magic, and it sounds like her grandfather didn’t, either.

Suddenly Dylan straightens up, her eyes going foggy for a second before her regular old sneer is back. “Take a right onto Wagner Street.”

“What?”

“I said take a right.” Dylan crosses her legs and starts texting.

So that’s it. The truth serum is out of her system, and Dylan is acting totally normal, like none of it happened. Penny tries to relax, but she keeps glancing at her passenger.

Dylan glares at her. “Why do you keep looking at me like that? I’m just drunk, I’m not going to—”

And that’s when she vomits.

Penny gasps as Dylan empties her stomach onto the car floor. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“Fuck,” Dylan says, and then she vomits again.

Penny’s heart races. “I’m going to open the windows. I’ll turn around and take you to the hospital—”

“No,” Dylan says through coughs. “No, I… I’m not okay. He doesn’t love me.”

“What? Who?”

Dylan wipes the corner of her mouth and laughs. “Corey. And I’ve tried to stop loving him, but I can’t. I’ll never get anyone like him ever again, so I need to keep him no matter what. Because I… because nobody can see past all the… all the…”

Dylan is shaking. Violently.

Penny pulls over and puts the car in park. There’s no other traffic; they’re alone in the quiet evening. She grabs her phone to call 911, but Dylan grabs her hand, digging her nails into Penny’s skin. Penny lets out a cry, and her phone falls onto the floor by Dylan’s feet, narrowly missing the vomit.

Dylan doesn’t let go of Penny’s hand. Her eyes are unfocused, and when her mouth opens, an avalanche of words come out.

“I want to leave this town. I want to go somewhere and start over. Where nobody knows what I’ve done.” Her eyes open wide; they’re unblinking. “What’s wrong with me? Am I a sociopath?”

Whatever was in that vial wasn’t a simple truth serum. Either Alonso messed it up, or he lied to her.

“I… I don’t know,” Penny says. “If you’re worried about being a sociopath, I don’t think you are one. Will you please let me take you to the hospital?”

It’s as if Dylan doesn’t even hear her. Instead, she’s running her free hand over her own face, into her hair. She’s blinking rapidly like she can barely see what’s in front of her. Penny’s heart is racing. She wants to drive to the hospital, but this part of the county isn’t familiar. Idlewood is tiny, but Penny lives near Main Street, and out here it’s a mess of country roads and farms and dirt driveways.

Then Dylan stops shaking. She’s staring at Penny with an unreadable expression.

“You know,” Dylan says, her face tearstained, “Corey has never once looked at me the way Alonso looks at you.”

It’s as though an ocean tide has caught Penny by surprise, and she’s flipping head over feet, unsure which way is up.

“Corey cares about you, Dylan,” Penny says, but the words are empty. And maybe it doesn’t matter. Dylan knows he doesn’t love her, but it hasn’t stopped her from being with him. It’s only made her try harder.

And it’s breaking her. Penny can see it written across Dylan’s face.

“He thinks I’m so stupid,” Dylan says. “That’s the worst part. I’m hot, and I’m mean, but I’m not stupid.”

Penny tries to wrest her hand out of Dylan’s, but she only holds on tighter.

“I shouldn’t even care,” Dylan says, and the next words come out like they’re on a rope, and someone is pulling on the other end. “I—I’ve been cheating on Corey.”

Penny’s mouth goes dry. She doesn’t want to know all of Dylan Mayberry’s darkest secrets. She just needed to find out more about the curse; she never intended for any of this to happen. It’s been at least ten minutes since Dylan drank the truth serum. It should be over by now.

“Give me my phone,” Penny says.

Dylan grabs Penny’s phone from the floor, but instead of handing it to Penny, she shoves it between her seat and the window. “Didn’t I tell you to keep driving?”

“Fine. I’m taking you home.” Penny puts the car in drive.

Dylan crosses her arms. “I don’t like how Corey is hanging out with you all the time. It needs to stop.”

“He’s concerned for my mom. That’s it. He’s being a good friend.”

“Cut the bullshit, Emberly, he told me you like him.”

The road in front of Penny goes blurry. She absorbs the words slowly, and she can’t help it—she laughs. “I’m sorry, Corey said what?”

This must be a lie. Why would Corey say that?

“Here,” Dylan says, pointing at an old storefront on the left.

Penny pulls into the parking lot, which is full of cars. The bad feeling in her gut gets worse. This isn’t Dylan’s house at all. The windows of the building are boarded up, and a low grumble of music comes from inside. Above the entrance is an old, faded sign, but the words are legible: DE LUCA PHARMACY, EST. 1920 .

This is where Giovanni De Luca died.

“Why are we here?” Penny asks.

Dylan grins. “We’re going to a party. We’re going to have the best time.”