Page 28 of Icarus

Icarus looked up, and his mind took a snapshot of Luca’s face.

Speck

Luca slapped him on the shoulder, then squeezed it firmly before they headed off to their classes. Icarus shivered and gripped the spot with his own hand.

He stumbled through the day, landing in art class before he finally got his footing. Beside him, Sorrel was nearly finished with his vase of flowers.

“You’re going to have to really do crunch time to get that done,” Sorrel commented, dryly, looking over at Icarus’s work.

Icarus sighed. The drawing was complete and he had primed the canvas with a soft orange. Maybe he could get away with declaring it an homage to da Vinci’s sketches and just filling in the highlighted areas.

“I’m sure Mrs. Sims won’t be mad,” Sorrel said, glancing over his shoulder at their art teacher. “Yours is already much better than everyone else’s.”

Icarus shrugged self-consciously. He didn’t like anyone comparing themselves to him. Especially not over something like this; something he had trained in his entire life. “It’s okay. I’m not really trying to do anything crazy here. I just want a grade that’s not going to get me yelled at.”

Sorrel reached over and dusted his fingertips along the edge of Icarus’s canvas.

“Could you do a portrait for me one day?”

Icarus glanced at him sharply. He was already on edge from his earlier conversation with Luca and it was alarming to hear this tone in Sorrel’s voice too. “What of?”

“My grandma? I can pay you and everything,” Sorrel said quickly. “She’s turning eighty-five and I think she’d really like it. You’re the best artist I know.”

Icarus took a deep breath and let it out with a stressed whoosh.

“Are you sure she wouldn’t prefer a picture of her made by her own grandkid?”

Sorrel nodded and looked a bit pained by that admission. God.

“Yeah, okay, fine. See if she’ll settle for a pencil and charcoal piece. Where would she want to sit for it?”

“In her garden probably. She doesn’t live far from here, so we could do it after school sometime. . . . Her birthday is in a month, so we don’t have to rush or anything. How much would you want to be paid?”

Icarus rolled his eyes. “You don’t need to pay me, Sorrel. As long as this is a one-time thing, we’re good to go.”

He didn’t want to do commissions for high-schooler wages.

Sorrel nodded, ears red, and turned back to his canvas.

Trip

Every so often, Angus Gallagher traveled to give lectures. It was good for marketing his services and strengthened his relationship with larger institutions. When the opportunity came up, he always seized it.

Icarus was forced to attend when these appearances landed during their “off season” or at a particularly high-profile location. Angus was insistent upon Icarus’s being recognizable to the people who might hire him someday, and there was nothing Icarus could do to wriggle out of it.

At least this one wasn’t overseas. Angus only gave him eight hours’ notice to pack before they flew to O’Hare. He reserved separate hotel rooms at the Palmer House so Icarus didn’t have to deal with listening to him rehearse and snore. When they arrived, he squeezed the back of Icarus’s neck in a silent good night, before warning him to be in the lobby, fed and ready to leave, by 9:30 a.m.

Icarus walked alone down the hallway to his room.

He opened the door with his keycard and stood there in the darkness for a while.

Chicago was orange at night.

The blackout curtains were pulled back, and the hazy drapes underneath blurred the cityscape to a glow. The streetlights spilled into the room, painting the furniture in strokes of burnt sienna.

Icarus left the lights off and unpacked. He brushed his teeth and washed his face in silhouette, then filled up the bathtub to soak.

He’d never lived in a city, but he liked them. There were more people, more noises, more lights. They hummed in a way that small towns did not, had movement in a way small towns did not. People who lived in cities probably didn’t feel the energy of other people around them anymore. But, when you’re from a quiet place, you can tell there are bodies stacked above you and feet moving below you. Like living in a burrow close to topsoil. Some people thought it felt like suffocation to be around so many things that are alive. But to Icarus it just felt warm.