Page 51

Penny

“I NEED PHOTOS OF YOU IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE,” RON SAYS.

“ No ,” Penny and Naomi say in unison.

Ron huffs. “Fine. I’ll be back at one in the morning, like we agreed.”

“I’m still mad you’re not coming with us,” Penny says.

“The drag show is more than enough party for me. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

Naomi pinches his cheek. “Handsome as ever, though.”

Ron waves her off. “Get gone before I start crying. Y’all look too beautiful, and I cannot handle seeing my babies all grown up.”

Penny wraps her arms around Ron from the back seat. “Love you,” she says, wishing more than ever that he knew about the curse. That he could comfort her.

“Dammit, now I am crying,” Ron says with a hiccup. “I’m kicking y’all out. Go! And be smart, you hear?”

The line to check in with security stretches all the way down the front steps. Penny and Naomi aren’t underdressed, but it’s a good thing they went all out. The guests wear an array of warm-toned gowns and summer suits, and even the most casual outfits look like they’re worth at least six months of Horizon Café’s rent.

Penny keeps glancing at Naomi, but she can’t catch her eye. The silence almost becomes too much, and Penny is about to say something, anything to get Naomi to acknowledge her existence, when Naomi gasps.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asks.

Naomi nods toward the front of the line. “Hideous chartreuse dress with an even more hideous occupant.”

Penny stands on her tiptoes, and there she is: Dylan, arguing with security. After a particularly vehement get out of here gesture from one of the guards, Dylan throws up a middle finger and starts down the stairs.

“She’s coming,” Penny whispers. She and Naomi stand shoulder to shoulder, trying to appear casual. Heels click down the steps, and Penny tells herself not to look—but at the last second, she does. And of course, Dylan is staring straight at her.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” she says.

Penny is transported back to that moment at the old pharmacy: the feeling of Dylan’s fingers twisting in her hair, the smell of vodka, the burning sensation in her eyes.

Penny doesn’t bother smiling. “Hey.”

Dylan rolls her eyes, as if saying hey isn’t something people do anymore. Her dress is floor-length and fitted, with a slit so high it shows her hip bone. Penny suddenly feels silly in her puffy black skirt and pink lipstick.

“Couldn’t get in?” Naomi asks. “Guess you won’t be livestreaming any torture tonight.”

Dylan’s eyes slip past Penny to Naomi. “I’m only here for the expensive champagne, but they can’t find my name on the list. I’m sure it’s there, but security decided they don’t like me.”

“Sorry,” Penny says.

“No, you’re not,” Dylan says.

Penny sighs. “You’re right. I’m not.”

Dylan’s eyes almost bulge out of her head. “Excuse me?”

“See you later,” Penny says as the line starts to move. Dylan stays in the same spot, which is good, because Penny and Naomi can barely contain themselves.

“Oh my god ,” Naomi says. “You just said that!”

“I know! Who am I!” They laugh, heads together. For a moment, all feels right with the world.

Then Penny remembers the truth serum. Dylan in her car, sobbing, saying she can’t stop loving Corey no matter how hard she tries.

Did they break up?

For a split second, Penny considers inviting Dylan to come in with them. But Dylan can’t be her problem tonight, or anyone else’s.

When security waves them through, Dylan is forgotten. Because Penny is inside Meredith House—the gala version of Meredith House.

“Oh,” Naomi says.

“Wow,” Penny breathes.

Every surface is covered with white fabric that reflects pastel lights, turning the entire house into a beautiful fever dream. Floral arrangements of lilacs, irises, hydrangeas, and daisies hang from the high ceilings of the foyer, their long green tendrils draped over banisters and reaching across tables. Music comes from every corner, and actual waitstaff are walking around with trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. There’s even a sign made of flowers, and it says T HANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING Y OUTH L ITERACY I NTERNATIONAL !

“Is this real?” Naomi whispers.

Penny shakes her head. “I honestly don’t know.”

The crowd moves around them, and Penny and Naomi somehow get ushered into a greeting line. Suddenly, Penny’s staring into the face of James Barrion.

Mr. Barrion is tall and undeniably handsome, with the same chiseled jaw as Corey. He’s dressed in an all-white suit, his blond hair gelled back. The woman standing next to him is in a pleated white slip dress, her long dark hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders.

When they see Penny, their faces go blank. Did Corey not tell them that she was going to be here? She scrambles for something to say, but James recovers first. His expression smooths into a smile, and he holds out a hand. “It’s Penny, isn’t it? James Barrion. I’m Corey’s dad.”

“Hi, Mr. Barrion.” Penny shakes his hand; his grip is firm and practiced, and he doesn’t break eye contact. “This is my friend Naomi Salazar. She also goes to Idlewood Central.”

“Naomi, hi. Lovely to meet you.”

The woman next to James steps forward. “I’m Sofía Barrion.”

“Our heroic organizer,” James adds.

She laughs. “It might sound bad, but I won’t be sad when this is over.”

“It looks stunning,” Penny says.

“That’s very sweet.” Her smile fades, and she lowers her voice as she adds, “I was so sorry to hear about your mom.”

“Thank you.” Penny’s heart races. James doesn’t react to Sofía’s apology; he’s already greeting the next guest.

“Truly,” Sofía says, and she reaches out and grabs Penny’s hand. “I know what it’s like to lose someone so close to you. There are no words to mask that pain.”

Penny feels her smile fall away. “We haven’t lost her yet.”

Sofía gasps and drops Penny’s hand. “Of course. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I—I’m sorry.”

Penny remembers the article about Sofía’s husband who died in a plane crash. She’s about to tell Sofía that it’s okay, to thank her for her kindness, but the greeting line is already pushing them along.

“Wow,” Naomi says. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Isn’t she the one who was a big pop star in South America?”

“Oh my god, yes. I get to check ‘meet a famous person’ off my gala bucket list.” Naomi opens her notes app and scrolls through a very long to-do list, but half a second later, she’s distracted by a passing tray of champagne flutes. “Yes please,” she says, grabbing two glasses and handing one to Penny. “Let’s drink up as much of the Barrions’ money as we can.”

Penny smiles, the knot of tension in her chest easing. “Deal. Salud!”

“Salud,” Naomi says, clinking her glass against Penny’s. But before she takes a drink, she grabs Penny’s wrist, and her expression turns stony.

“You promise you’ll tell me everything tomorrow?”

Penny nods once, firmly. “I promise.”

“Good.” Then Naomi downs the entire flute in one gulp. Penny can only get two sips down before she starts coughing.

“Bubbles!” she wheezes, and Naomi laughs.

If they thought the inside of Meredith House was surreal, that doesn’t compare to the backyard. Behind the house is a sprawling, manicured wonderland of flowers, fountains, and statues. Golden lamps light the steps from the brick patio down to the ground level, where grass unfurls like a carpet, winding through the garden to a massive in-ground pool shaped like an infinity symbol. It’s lit from below, and the bright blue water glows in the night. A few people are already swimming, sparkling drinks in hand. A DJ with a purple bob and paint-splattered floor-length jacket plays music from the gazebo, bobbing her head to the beat.

Naomi and Penny wander for what feels like hours, downing more champagne, taking selfies with a few particularly weird art installations (including a life-sized Stevie Nicks made entirely of LEGO bricks), and dipping their feet in the pool. Penny texts Corey, but he doesn’t respond, and soon Penny forgets to check her phone.

When a familiar pop song blares over the speakers, Naomi gasps and drags Penny toward the dance floor. “Come on! I want to dance.”

They get close to the gazebo. Penny sticks to the outskirts of the dance floor, but she beams as Naomi sways to the music, quickly becoming part of the crowd.

Then Penny notices someone staring at her from the other side of the gazebo. He’s a few years older than Penny, tall and lanky with light-brown skin and slicked-back hair. He’s wearing a white turtleneck and white wide-legged pants. His eyes are unblinking and, for some reason, focused on her.

Penny looks away, pretending to sip her drink. That’s when it hits her. She knows him, sort of. He was a senior at Idlewood Central when Penny was a freshman. That’s Julian Chaudhary, Helen Barrion’s son.

Penny glances in his direction again, but he’s gone. She’s not sure what she would say to him, but she’s curious. Does he know who she is? Did Julian ever meet Penny’s mom before the accident at Elkie Lake?

“You don’t like dancing?”

She jumps. Julian somehow teleported next to her, a Cheshire Cat smile stretched across his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” Penny says.

Julian’s eyes wander over the dance floor. “Then I guess I shouldn’t ask you to dance with me.”

“Oh,” Penny says, her voice cracking. “Thanks, but, uh—”

“It’s a waste of energy anyway. It’s just a way to make people look at you, right?”

Julian’s voice is smooth and liquid. Penny heard rumors he was agoraphobic, that this was why nobody saw him after he graduated from Idlewood Central. Now that she’s face-to-face with him, everything about Julian oozes confidence. Or maybe not confidence—could it be apathy? It’s hard to tell.

“There are much more interesting ways to get attention,” Julian says.

“Are there?” Penny asks.

“Definitely,” Julian says. “Murder, for example.”

When Penny’s jaw drops, Julian lets out a low laugh. “It was a joke.”

Penny tries to laugh, but it comes out shaky.

“I guess I should let you find Corey,” Julian says. “That’s who you’re here to see, right? Good luck with that, by the way.”

Penny’s smile falls. “What do you mean?”

But Julian is already leaving, weaving between people until Penny loses sight of him.

“Weird guy,” comes a voice from behind her. “Tries too hard, but I really can’t talk.”

Penny gasps. That voice belongs to the very last person who should be here.

Standing a few feet away, in the middle of the Barrions’ giant backyard, is Alonso.