“Thanks,” I say, pushing off the bench. I slip my bag over my shoulder, and when I look up, she’s right in front of me. I can smell her perfume. Feel her heat. Her hand stretches out, and I glance down at the little orange card. I look back up at her.
“I’ll do it,” she says. “I’ll help you, if you help me.”
A smile breaks across my face, and I take the card. “Thank you,” I say again. Darcy just nods, turning toward the door. Before she steps through, she spins back to face me.
“But if you cross me, Icarus,” she says, her brows lifting as she points a finger. “I will end you.”
I don’t tell Darcy that being killed by her would be my life’s greatest honor. Instead, I raise my hand to my brow, saluting. “Copy that, Kimmy.”
She rolls her eyes. It’s not until she walks out the door that I look down at the card in my hand. My fingertips graze the sharp edge of the cardstock as my eyes scan the message scrawled across it.
Icarus
Your dedication, though obnoxious at times, is unmatched. I envy you, not just because you get to play the game, but for the way you play it. I’m sorry for how things started. Thank you for reminding me of what I love, and how I can be better.
Kim Possible
Twenty Three
Darcy
ICARUS
Do you need a lift to the rink?
ME
I’ll walk.
ICARUS
Oh, come on. Let me drive you. I’m a very good driver.
ME
Somehow I believe you.
Walking is good to stretch my body after sleeping. But I’ll meet you there soon.
ICARUS
I’m adding you back to the group chat btw.
ME
What
Why
Don’t do that
ICARUS
Why not?
ME
I don’t want to be in it
