The House Above the Sea

17.

Neo's so hopelessly drunk on the memory of Kit's heartbeat thrumming against him that he forgets, entirely, that he's supposed to be grounded.

The porch and foyer lights are on, and even before he edges the door open, he can sense the astounding magnitude of trouble he's about to be in. The air hums with it, a tense, spine-tingling unease, like the eerie wail of a violin.

Everyone is awake. Uncle Duke, his cell phone to his ear. Joey, slumping on the stairs with an awfully dejected look on his face. Aunt Vivian, two seconds from clawing her hair out, and baby Olivia, crying on her hip.

"Hey," Neo says, and the family's faces all crumple into an odd synthesis of relief and rage. The night has already been so high-strung; Neo's not sure he can handle the amount of emotion radiating at him right now. "I'm...sorry?"

To Neo's surprise, it's his uncle who speaks first. He sets his phone down on a side table with a jarring thud, his face a blotchy pink. "Jesus Christ, Neo," Uncle Duke says. "I was this close to calling the police. Where the hell have you been, kid?"

"I—"

"Neo." Aunt Vivian's eyes are strangely gentle. "I want the truth."

For an awkward breath, Neo locks eyes with Joey. Joey's eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with purple, but what shoots a dart through Neo's ribs is the shame in them when Neo says, "You wouldn't believe me."

Aunt Viv and Uncle Duke share a wary glance for a moment, before Uncle Duke nods and takes the baby from his wife's arms.

Aunt Vivian hesitates a beat before she steps forward, taking both of Neo's wrists. She turns his hands over, scrutinizes the warm, nutty brown skin of his forearms. When she sighs in relief and releases him, Neo's heart seizes.

"You thought...? No. Aunt Viv, you—" He stops, looking between his aunt and uncle, searching for any indication that it isn't true. But their faces say it all. "How dare you. How dare you."

"Neo, you have to understand," says Aunt Vivian, that former gentleness in her eyes gone now. "These kinds of things have some genetics to them, you know? If that was how your mother tended to cope, then it only made sense that you might, too."

"Nothing about that makes sense," Neo snaps, taking a startled step away from her. "God. I just wish everyone would stop treating my mom like some sort of monster! She's human! What? I-Is she just not allowed to make mistakes?"

Uncle Duke closes his eyes, as if resting them. "Neo, I think you're being a bit irrational. We were only trying to look after you."

"So if I told you why I've really been coming home late? Sneaking out and all that?" Neo goes on, his voice rising. He's losing his grip. His hold on the night's events was shoddy already, but now, his fingers slip and tremble as if greased with sweat. "It's not drugs. It was never drugs and it's never gonna be drugs. His name is Kit Kawamoto. He's sixteen, he lives all alone in that old house on the cliff, and he's cursed and I'm gonna save him. That's where I've been."

Neo can hear nothing. Nothing but his own blood rushing in his ears, his heart thudding away at his ribcage like a prisoner desperately trying to get free. For a moment, he's not even sure where he is; whether it's here, or back in the dewy grass with Kit furled in his arms, or back even further than that, catching a final whiff of his mother's sweet lavender perfume as she hugged him, then vanished into that glaring yellow taxi.

Where are you going?

A place that will make me better.

For how long?