I Fell in Love with Hope(65)

“Good to meet you, sir–I’m Sony, this is Hikari,” Sony says. Her church bell voice is tamed, shaking at the ends. She walks backward, the coyness a symptom of caution. “That’s Sam.”

“Sam, yes,” Neo’s father says. “You bring Neo his dinner.”

“Dad,” Neo whispers, his hands gripping the edges of the chair by his thighs.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m happy to see you being social.” He walks past Sony, rubbing his son’s shoulder. Sony eyes his hand like it’s a knife scraping the surface of Neo’s skin.

Neo tenses from the touch. His gaze fixes on the lines in the tiles.

“I wasn’t sure if Neo had any friends till now.” His father pats his head like a pet’s but stills when he notices the change. “What’d you do to your hair?”

“Is Neo’s mom coming?” I ask.

I’m buying time. Or at least bargaining with it.

The distraction seems to work. He looks my way, surprised as if he remembers me being far more docile. Maybe I was. Interfering is a great sin because of what I am, but Neo is the one who told me to step into the pages.

“No,” his father says. “I just got back from a business trip, and she had errands to run for his cousins–”

Tension curls at the cutoff. Neo’s father finally sees the work spread about the desk. The hundreds of handwritten pages in the far corner. The pen in Neo’s lap.

He sighs, shoulder slacking, a hardness passing over his face as he draws his hand over his jaw and reads over a few exposed lines.

The silence cuts through Neo. He shuts his eyes like he’s bracing for impact.

“Are Neo’s cousins academics too?” Hikari asks. She stands without strain, her arms crossed, defiance like a glint in her tone. “Sony’s thinking of getting a job here, helping out with the kids. Neo’s been helping her with her writing skills for her application.”

Hikari is a seasoned liar, but this man knows his son.

“He’s always been smart, that’s for sure,” he says, looking straight at Hikari. Picking a fight with someone like him is dangerous. Baiting him is far worse. Hikari doesn’t seem to care. She dares him with nothing but a look to try and see what happens if he challenges her.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” But Neo’s father doesn’t care about the writing. “But would you mind giving Neo and I some privacy?” He cares about Neo’s defiance, no matter its shape.

Sony’s heart falls in her chest. She stutters over her next set of words, stepping beside Neo’s chair, “Um, well–”

Neo grabs her sleeve so hard he shakes. He chews on the inside of his cheek, slowly looking up at her out of the corner of his eye. A silent message transmits between them, a signal that can only mean one thing.

Sony doesn’t want to leave. None of us do. But it’s Neo’s decision.

“Alright,” she whispers. She squeezes Neo’s hand over the material of her sweatshirt, biting her tongue as she begrudgingly walks away.

Hikari doesn’t ask before grabbing the cardboard box in the far corner full of Neo’s books.

“Sony, don’t forget your papers,” she says, clearing Neo’s desk with one swipe of her arm. The papers collapse into the box, safeguarded.

“Right,” Sony says, helping her gather any straggling sheets.

I haven’t moved from where I stand. I stare at Neo’s father, a rollback of recollections playing like film frames. Every memory I can scrounge of Neo smiling has been followed by that man and his transgressions. It’s almost as if he can feel Neo’s happiness in the air. And if it doesn’t arise from him, he finds an excuse to destroy it.

“Sam,” Hikari says, motioning for me to follow them out.

There’s only one person I can possibly think of that could challenge Neo’s pride, and I’d recognize his melodic footsteps anywhere.

Hikari whispers, “Sam–”

“Wait just a second.”

When the door opens a second time, it’s to a whistling tune. Wearing a scarf made of earbud wires and a high school varsity jacket, C strolls in, mumbling a string of music notes.

“Neo, I got my essay back. Still didn’t get an A, but I finally understand what a semicolon is. Sort of. I think.” He kicks off his shoes, balancing himself against the doorframe. “Sorry, I’m late, by the way. My parents were home, so I had to sneak out through my window and take my dad’s tru–”

C stops in the center of the room. The thunder in his chest becomes practically audible.

“Coeur,” Neo says. He tries to swallow his fear, playing it off. “Go. I’ll come to find you later.”

“Coeur,” Neo’s dad repeats, like he remembers hearing a similar name but can’t quite place it. He notices the jacket, a curt smile on his lips. “You go to Neo’s school. Are you an athlete?”

C takes a moment to find his speech.

“I was,” he says. “I’m not anymore.”

Neo’s father must’ve seen C’s name in the papers, must’ve heard about the boy who nearly drowned and was told he could never swim again. He quickly recognizes him, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“That’s right, I’m sorry.”