The House Above the Sea

25.

Neo can tell that his cousin, for some reason, is in an impeccable mood.

    The second the two boys escape Aunt Vivian's grasp ("Both of you home before dark, no excuses, do you hear me?"), Joey hops into the front seat of the truck, tuning to the radio till it hits one of those songs that can't decide if it wants to be pop or EDM. This, Neo has learned after nearly a month living with the guy, is an indicator that he's feeling particularly peppy. If he tunes it to the "oldies but goodies" station, he's feeling philosophical and introspective; if he turns on something in French, anything in French, he's probably about thirty seconds from crying.

    Joey hums along to the radio as he reverses out of the driveway, his eyes bright and curious as they watch the road. It's the same look, Neo realizes, he gets when he's talking about a haunted spot or some urban legend.

    Joey catches Neo's gaze, raising an eyebrow. "You seem sulky," he says, putting the car in gear. The neighborhood blurs around them as they drive, stucco and brick and greenery all a messy watercolor. "Why are you sulky? This is a good thing we're doing, right? We're gonna figure out what's wrong with Kit."

    Neo scoffs. "Nothing's wrong with him. What this Maeve lady is supposed to tell us is how to fix that curse."

    "Okay, same difference," Joey says, flicking on a turn signal. "My point is, if all goes well today, we'll have made considerable progress. So why are you sulky?"

    "You said it for me," Neo mumbles, resting his temple against the window. They pass the old house at the cliff, and Neo's heart leaps in his chest, imagining Kit there: waiting, just waiting, for them to return and bring him good news. It has to be good news. "If all goes well."

    Joey doesn't speak for long enough that Neo wonders if he was even listening. Leather squeaks as Joey furls his hands tighter on the wheel. "Even if it doesn't go well," he says, finally, "I don't think giving up is an option, anyway. Unless you're okay with seeing whatever happens when that house goes down."

    The words turn every liter of Neo's blood to ice. He rolls the window down—the truck's an old rust bucket, so he has to do so with a manual crank—until he can taste the sea in the air. "No," he says, chewing on his lip. "Of course not."

    Another moment of quiet, before Joey laughs, and extends a hand to wack Neo's back, probably with more force than he's aware of. As Neo coughs, groaning, Joey says, "See? Now you're getting it."

    Five minutes later, the truck rumbles up in front of the Kawamoto residence. Neo strains forward in his seat, anxious to get a look at the place Kit once called home, but all he can see over the ivy-strewn fence is the roof, slate gray shingles with what looks to be a squirrel's nest near the chimney. Even so, a strange feeling comes over him, as if he's traveled backwards in time, like Kit could round that fence any second, squinting his eyes to make out who was there, before lifting his hand in a wave and running towards the truck.

    Except it's not Kit who rounds the corner, but Elsie, clad in a dress that looks more like a very large T-shirt, her eyeliner especially sharp.

    She hops in the backseat without a word, a wave of sweet, tulip-scented perfume following her as she does. Neo glances at Joey, and his face is a vivid shade of pink.

    Elsie clears her throat, making both of them jump. "I sent the address to you last night, Irvine," she says. "Did you not get it?"

    Joey frowns and twists the key, the engine jerking back to life. "Well, hey, good morning to you, too, I guess."

    Elsie starts to speak again, sputters, and lets out a breath. "I'm sorry," she says. "If you can't tell, I guess I'm just a bit...anxious."

    Joey says, curtly, "Oh, we can tell."