Page 32 of Icarus

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

Blowing

“What do you do when I’m not here?”

Helios stretched out his legs. His feet mercifully a full six inches away. Icarus eyed them dubiously and considered scooting even farther back.

“What do you think?” Helios replied. “I read, write sometimes . . . work out. Like I said, I’m not allowed to use computers or have a phone, but I also have chores. I’m not even allowed to have coffee or sleeping pills. Its excruciating.”

“What do you write about?”

Helios smirked. “Nothing creative. Just journaling. I have a supervised phone call with a counselor every week and she’s making me write down my life experiences so I can reflect on them. I’m not sharing my diary with you, so don’t even ask.”

Icarus grimaced. “I would never ask you that.”

Helios tapped his fingers on the pillow next to him and chewed his lip.

“I think about it sometimes . . . what my friends back home would think of you.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t think of me at all. I’m not entirely unlikable, but if they were anything like you I would probably avoid them.”

“What do you mean, are you telling me you’re popular or something?” Helios said, clearly joking. “You’re always giving dark and broody; I didn’t expect that.”

“Well, expect it or not, I am,” Icarus replied bluntly. “In a way. This whole . . . ‘thing’ consumes most of my time, but I’m not an outcast if that’s what you were imagining. My friend Luca won prom prince last year.”

He hadn’t been friends with Luca then, but it was still true at the end of the day.

Helios laughed and shook his head. “Okay, whatever you say, buddy. Anyway, I think they would like you. There’s this girl named Starr who is super into EDM. Boomerang and Snakebite both go to the High School of Art and Design, and they’d lose their minds over you. My best friend Ghost would be really into you for like . . . slutty reasons . . . but he’s mostly into everyone for that.”

Icarus rolled his eyes. “Does anyone you know have a real name?”

“Yeah, but nicknames are more fun. More personal.”

“What was your nickname?”

Helios grinned. “Helios is strange enough. I didn’t have one. Do your friends call you Nothing?”

Icarus rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“What should I call you, then?”

Icarus didn’t answer.

“Can I call you ‘my friend?’” Helios pushed. He dragged the tips of his fingers across his own arm. Over the new bandages that Icarus didn’t want to ask about. “That would preserve the allure of anonymity that you seem to enjoy.”

“That’s . . . that’s fine.”

“Well, my friend. I think you would have fit in with the people I knew before this. Would you like to meet them? When I get out of here, of course.” Helios curled so much pleasure into the words “my friend” that Icarus could hear them dripping in the night air.

He shivered. “Maybe. I have to go.”

Icarus got up and slipped his soft shoes back on. Helios watched in silence.

Icarus paused in the window.