The House Above the Sea

11.

Neo's mind is foggy, a headache pounding at his temples, but still his mission is clear.

    He sits in anxious silence as Joey drives, and the second the engine dies away in the Irvine driveway, Neo hops out at a run.   

    "Neo!" Joey catches at his sleeve, yanking Neo to a halt. The rain falls around them, an incessant shower of cold water that flattens Joey's hair to his forehead. "Neo. Where the hell are you going?"

    Neo shoves him off. "I'll be back in a minute, Joey. Just let me go."

    But Joey grabs for him again. "Tell me what's going on—"

    "Please, Joey. I need to go."

    Joey's face flashes with hurt, a stunned furrow appearing in his brow. He staggers backwards a bit, and he nods, his fingers slipping from Neo's sleeve.

    And Neo is off, shoes slapping against the puddles forming on the asphalt, rain or maybe sweat sliding down his forehead in fat drops. He can see Kit's house up ahead, just barely, a grim, dark shadow rising out of the grayish clouds. He was so sure. When Neo touched him, when Neo felt the warmth of his sun-bronzed skin beneath his own fingers, he was so sure. The realization of his own massive lack of knowledge hits him now like a sucker punch to the face.

    He climbs the stoop, legs trembling, his body flushed with cold and heat all at once. He stumbles into the house, catches himself against the floor with sweaty palms. "Kit!" he cries, though it is more of a wheeze. He takes in a big breath, then another, and another, and tries again: "Kit!"

    There's a soft rhythm of footsteps, and when Neo looks up, Kit's staring at him, his eyes wide with terror.

    "You lied to me," Neo says, dragging himself to his feet. Kit glances behind him, at the rain blowing in sheets through the open front door, then at Neo again. "Why did you lie to me?"

    Kit shakes his head, his mouth forming the word No, but with no voice to match.

    "You did! I—you're dead, aren't you? You told me you weren't! But your sister—"

    Kit's hand closes, viselike, around Neo's wrist. Neo pulls away in protest, but Kit holds fast, pressing Neo's hand against his chest.

    There it is, fast and thunderous like the pounding of fists on a drum: Kit's heartbeat.

    Kit holds Neo's gaze, and Kit's eyes are pleading, his mouth open in a silent gasp.   

    A peal of thunder unfurls above them, echoing in Neo's already ringing ears. Kit lowers Neo's hand, clutching at the damp, hand-shaped blot now left behind on his borrowed windbreaker.

    "I don't understand," Neo says, his voice quiet. He drifts towards the bottom of the stairs, collapsing to a much-needed seat and listening as his heart returns to its normal rhythm. "I spoke to your sister, Elsie. She said you were dead. She said you'd been dead for eight years now."

    Kit closes the front door, shutting out the worsening storm, and comes to a seat on the floor in front of Neo. I decided that was easiest, he writes in his composition book, which he balances in his lap. Telling the truth was too complicated. I didn't want to hurt her.

    "Bullshit, Kit," Neo snaps. "Like lying to her doesn't hurt her? Are you crazy?"

    Kit flinches, as if the words struck him physically. He meets Neo's eyes, his own swallowed with grief. You don't understand what's at stake here, Neo.