We had to go home eventually. Summer was drawing to an end, and our parents had finally started calling to ask after us. Or after Arik, anyway. All they asked about me was, "How's he behaving?" (To that, Arik shot me a sympathetic look and replied, "He's great, Mum, he's a good kid.")

I begged and pleaded, but Arik said we had to pay them a visit, and that was that. I dreaded it, thick, dark feelings welling and hanging on my ribcage whenever I thought of it. The ship, with Arik, had become such a safe haven from the emotional roller coaster of home. I didn't want to go back to being hated.

I felt sick for the entire ride from the boatyard. A mile away, and already I could hear the yelling again, could feel my cheeks stinging from swift palms and my heart burning from biting words. Shit.

"I don't want to do this," I moaned, crawling slowly out of the passenger side of Arik's car. Arik strode around the side and put his arm around me, pulling me against him.

"It'll be okay, Harry, you'll see. This is your family. They love you. I'm sure they missed you a lot."

"I'm sure they didn't. And why are you so eager to go home? I thought you hated how they treated you."

He squeezed my arm. "They're still my family. I still love them."

He went to the door, which swung open as if on automatic sensors. Mum dashed out, hugging and kissing him like he'd just returned from fighting the Germans. I hung back off the steps, arms crossed, looking off to the side. I was wearing a long black T-shirt, black shorts, and black sneakers. My usual.

"Hello, Arik!" Dad called from inside the kitchen. "You didn't lose little Harry in your travels, did you?"

Little Harry? Christ, I'm nearly sixteen, in case you forgot.

Arik stepped down and placed a hand between my shoulder blades, pressing me forward. "Nope, he's still here!"

He pushed me in front of Mum, who stood with her hands on her hips, smiling. "Well! Don't you look nice, all tanned up! I think the airship work really agreed with you, wouldn't you say, Addison?"

Dad sauntered over to survey me from head to toe and nod and smile, because whattaya know, we sent away our ugly son, and he came back half decent! "Well, your hair's growing back�that's certainly good! Good thing that black is growing out."

He thumped my shoulder with a heavy hand. "So, how did you like all that airship work? You finally got to see a real man's job!"

"Mmm," I murmured.

"He worked very hard," Arik piped up. He was using that high-pitched voice again, and his smile could have cracked his face in half. "I've never had a better crew member!"

Dad thumped my shoulder again. "Glad to hear it! So, have you outgrown your testy phase? Are you reformed?"

My pride flamed. Testy phase?

Arik looped his arms around me from behind, sensing my flaring temper. "He's doing great!" he exclaimed quickly. "He's a good kid�a real good kid!"

Mum and Dad grinned, and Dad ruffled my hair. It was rough and I flinched, but Arik held me in place as the rest of the family went into the kitchen. I pulled away from Arik and shot him a glare.

"What?" he mouthed defensively. "Come on, put in a little effort!" And he shooed me into the kitchen.

I contemplated escaping to my room, but thought better of it. Retreating to my room would only set the miserable record of my life back where I'd left off, restarting everything I'd escaped from during these past few weeks. Arik had expostulated me the entire way here about how I should try my hardest to keep the peace at chez Redde. He'd said, You don't want it to go back to the way it was, do you?

I went into the kitchen and stopped in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. Arik was seated at the table now, with Romey in his lap. Dad was seated across the table, and Mum was rummaging through the refrigerator. Arik looked up and met my eyes. Mum and Dad followed his line of vision.

"What's for dinner?" I asked evenly, flicking my hair out of my face.

"Barbecued chicken!" Mum replied.

"You know," Arik interjected brightly, "Harry is a great cook."

Mum and Dad were all smiles. "You always have been," Mum tittered. "I remember when you were little you used to always want to help me. You never do anymore, though."

Ting�a prick at my heart. Was that comment, that tone, directed at me as the first criticism of the night? Was she going to follow that up with, "You never do any chores anymore, you're so lazy, why don't you get off your ass once in a while and help out?"

Or was she implying that it saddened her that I had no interest in family bonding sessions?

I felt uncomfortable. I shrugged in response.

Mum put her hands on her hips. "Well, how about making the salad, eh? Arik was just telling us that you make delicious salads."

Right, like Arik and I have touched anything remotely green and leafy in months. But, hey, we were home now, and Arik would let the lies spill like water through the falls.

I shrugged again.

"Come on, Harry," Arik cajoled, passing me a less-than-subtle 'meaningful look,' like we had some secret game playing behind Mum and Dad's back.

"Yeah, fine," I sighed, and shuffled to the refrigerator to get some lettuce to wash while the rest of the family resumed chatting. Memories came to mind as I washed and chopped vegetables, and I recalled the last time I'd tried to help at dinner. CRASH! "Harrison!" "Sorry, Dad! I-I misjudged the counter�my eyes are being weird, I'm sorry!" "For God's sake, Harrison, why are you always so clumsy? Your eyes are no excuse!" "I'm sorry!" "A whole pot of mashed potatoes WASTED! And now we need a new bowl, to boot!" "Dad, I was only trying to help!" "Yeah, thanks a lot!"

Caught in my flashback, I accidentally sliced my finger along with the cucumbers. I gasped, and the family whirled in my direction.

"I accidentally cut myself," I reported, shaking my stinging hand around. Murmuring in concern, Mum clasped my wrist and forced my fingers open.

"Oh, Harry, that's a nasty slice! Addison, can you grab a Band-Aid from the bathroom? Harry, come here." Mum steered me to the sink and ran my hand under the faucet, which made me flinch. The cut was actually bleeding fairly profusely, and it stung. Mum washed it off, and when Dad appeared with the Band-Aid and the little tube of Neosporin, she coated the cut with the clear goop and wrapped my finger snugly in the bandage. When she was done she even kissed my finger like she used to do when I was little.

"There you go! Good as new!" She smiled and returned to preparing the chicken. I stood by the sink, delicately fingering my left pointer finger and feeling stunned by the family group-effort on my injured appendage. Arik smiled widely at me.

Everyone sat in their usual seats at dinner. Arik and Dad jabbed their forks at each other, and I slouched and picked at my food. Under the table, I kept running my thumb along the smooth plastic coating of the Band-Aid. I was still reeling from the sudden outpouring of compassion. No one had cooed and fussed over me when Dad gave me a black eye and left marks on my arm. Was this a step in the right direction? Maybe they had missed me.

Mum and Dad wanted to hear every detail of every order we'd been given and mission we'd accepted. We're familiar with a lot of the pilots we deal with, as it tends to be a family business, so my parents got a chuckle out of how so and so is doing, and the hideous color so and so painted his airship. The questions were directed at Arik.

I was spellbound, watching him answer. This was the first time I'd sat through a dinner aware of his act, and the song-and-dance number was unbelievable.

"So, Arik, did you manage to fix that tick in the pressure gauge?" Dad asked.

"Sure did!" Arik rattled off some technical jargon that made his repairs sound more complicated than they had been. He forgot to include bubble gum and duct tape in his list of supplies used.

"It worked?"

"Like a charm!"

"Was it difficult?"

"A breeze!" Laugh, laugh.

Lie. I watched him struggle with those repairs for two days straight. There was a lot of cursing and praying involved, and we very nearly had to hire a mechanic to help us, which was taboo in this household.

"You're so good with the mechanics," Dad purred, practically beaming.

"I was taught well," Arik replied, with a gargantuan toothy grin.

Excuse me while I violently projectile-retch across the table.

"Did you manage to get out at all? Go clubbing, be social?" Mum asked, and Arik flipped his defenses to his left.

"Of course! There are some great clubs in Newport. I had a great time."

Lie. Yeah, there were great clubs in Newport, but I was the one who wanted to go to them. I begged and pleaded and cajoled for him to take me to one�or to go to one himself�but no, he was too shy and antisocial. I sat on the bow and listened longingly to the music echoing over the water. What did he do? He sat on the couch watching Hugh Grant movies or the Brazilian cooking channel.

"I'm glad to hear that! You're so personable, Arik�and so handsome! It's a waste for you to be so shy all the time!"

Biiiig smile from Mr. Charming. The bigger the lie, the bigger the smile.

Mum took a sip of her wine and then continued, "So are you getting over Bryce, finally?" (Dad conveniently looked distracted.)

The 1000-watt grin crackled and faltered, but he forced his usual chipper laugh. "Oh yeah, Mum, I'm fine! Just fine."

I gawked at him. Three days ago Arik had one of his worst bawling fits ever. Drunk out of his mind, he'd yelled at me, How could he just walk out?! How could he just leave, just like that?! Six years, Harry! Six years! How could he just leave after six years?!

Mum patted his hand. "I'm very glad to hear it! No use dwelling on what's already past�you've just got to keep moving forward, that's what I always say!"

"I agree, Mum," Arik said, smiling and nodding as artificially as a robot.

"You didn't give your brother any trouble, did you, Harrison?" Dad asked, the first question of the night directed at me.

I was still stunned by the B.S. Arik was vomiting all over the room. Dazedly, I shook my head.

"Oh no, I laid down the law, and he never gave me a minute of trouble! And we've gotten to be good friends, haven't we, Harry?" Arik chirped, sweet as a songbird.

Laid down the law? I fumed at his unmitigated gall, but I wasn't a traitor like him, so I replied, "Yeah we have."

Mum made a happy clicking noise with her tongue. "Oh, it's so wonderful to see my two boys getting along!" A unanimous toothy grin flashed around the table. I ducked it so as to not be further blinded by the glare. This was so sick and twisted.

"See, Harry, I told you spending some time with your brother would be good for you!" Mum declared jovially, her finger a-wagging in my face. "And from the sound of things, you two are having a wonderful time! I knew you'd have fun!"

The burning sensation in my ribcage resurfaced. Yup, you made a great decision, Mum and Dad. You were right all along�you've been right about everything! You knew exactly what would make that petulant lad turn over a new leaf�Congratulations! You're well on your way to having another hollowed out son with a big painted smile like a fucking toothpaste billboard! Allow me to grovel at your feet and apologize for all my earlier gaffes. How na�ve I was!

I desperately sought Arik's face for salvation, searching for the Arik I knew from the ship, but all I got was a phony chuckle and the same face that used to pick me up at school and giggle at me all the way home. The blank stare and toothy grin of Human Perfection. Just like old times.

Grinding my chair back, I leapt up. "I'm sorry, I'm really not hungry," I murmured, and fled to my room.

I've found that when you return home after a long absence, your room has a familiar scent to it, perhaps due to stagnant air, or maybe just because you've been away from the familiarity of it. No one had been in my room much in the past few weeks, and it was hot and stuffy. It smelled like my room-like me, I guess. My mom had obviously tidied up a bit when she had nothing better to do. My bed was made, so the sheets were no longer curled in flowing mountain ranges across my carpet. They'd repaired the window I'd cracked with my fist. My posters�Weezer, Star Wars, Saddlecreek Records�still adorned my walls, framed by photographs of my friends and bands. I opened the window to let some fresh air in and sat down on the edge of my neatly made bed. It felt huge after sleeping in the bottom bunk for weeks.

I stroked my bandaged finger, fighting back the burning feeling behind my eyes. I wanted to cry, and I hated myself for wanting to. Why was this so hard? We were a family, so why did every word out of our mouths have to be a horrendous lie or a sharp innuendo? Why did everything have to be so fucking complicated?

Fuck you, Arik, I thought.

He'd betrayed me. Yeah, he was on my side, and he understood me, and he was going to help me out�but only if we were on the ship. Now that we were home, he picked up his Golden Boy act where he'd left off and pasted that stupid smile back on his face. He'd agreed that he shouldn't act that way, and that he was hurting me with it, but now that we were home, what did he care? So long as Mum and Dad are still beaming at him, what does he fucking care?

You coward! You lying coward!

I drew my legs up onto my bed and lay on my side. My body and face were burning, and I couldn't hold back the angry tears. We'd spent a lot of time talking about how things should be different now, and how he should be more honest. But he wasn't trying to change anything�he wanted things to stay exactly as they were, even if it screwed me over, because it was in HIS best interest. And I'd thought he cared about me! He said he loved me, and he said I was important, and he said he was going to help me�and I'd believed him! Why had I been so stupid? He lied to everyone else, so why had I thought he wouldn't lie to me?

Arik told people what they wanted to hear.

My chest felt aflame, and it throbbed with a physical aching. This hurt worse than anything Mum or Dad had ever done to me. I'd thought I had a friend, finally, an ally! I'd thought maybe things would be different, now that I had Arik on my side. I'd thought for once he would purposely try to not outshine me on every fucking level. But no! That would take balls, something Arik lacked miserably. He's such a coward, he can't even admit that he didn't go to any clubs!

I was full-out crying now, and I couldn't help it. I'd really liked spending time with Arik, as unbalanced as he was. During our summer together, I'd felt much like I had as a kid: Arik was my adored older brother, and I love-love-loved it when he paid attention to me. I really had believed he was going to make my situation with Mum and Dad better, somehow. I'd been hopeful that things would be different.

You two-faced, lying coward!

�But how could I expect him to take on my problems? He's already out of his Goddamn mind with his own problems. He can barely handle his own life, so how had I thought he'd be able to help mine? Hell, he was probably manic-depressive. He was pathetic, and I felt bad for him.

�Or had he made up that story about attempting suicide, too? He manipulated Mum and Dad with lies to make himself look better�had he lied about putting a gun to his head so that I would pity him and mistakenly think he understood what I was going through?

I hate you, Arik, I thought, and I wept into my pillow.

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