Page 47 of Icarus

Icarus shrugged and put the cigarette out. “Luca’s. He’s a good friend . . . It’s my first.”

Helios looked like he was about to throw a fit.

“What? No kissing, no parties?? What the fuck?” he hissed. “What are you, a Jehovah’s Witness?”

Icarus smirked.

“You’re the second person to ask me that this month. But no, I just can’t have anyone getting too close. And I’m kind of Catholic, if you care much about that.”

“What?! Why?!” Helios cried.

Icarus’s smirk widened into a grin. “Helios Black. I am a filthy cat burglar with a house full of money, priceless art, and stolen goods. If someone gets even a glimpse through our windows, Interpol will tear our home apart. I definitely can’t have friends coming and going all the time.”

He put the cold cigarette in his pocket and brushed the remaining ash down into the yard. “And I’m Catholic because—”

“Oh, shut up!” Helios turned around and hopped back inside.

Hush

They slid back into the linen closet, dark and warm.

“Open your mouth.” One last time.

Icarus placed an unlit cigarette between Helios’s teeth.

“Contraband,” he murmured. “For when things get rough and I’m not around.”

“Fuck, dude . . . Fuck,” Helios hissed, pinking delicately. He looked hungrily, but still didn’t touch him.

They spent the rest of their time in the library, at Icarus’s request. He’d spent a decade in this building looking at books he couldn’t touch. If Icarus never got to roam freely in this space again, he was going to satisfy this urge once and for all.

Helios went back to whatever he’d been doing on the floor. The books he had open were all about plants, and he seemed mildly reluctant to talk about it. So Icarus didn’t ask.

At the end of the night, Helios walked him to the back door, leaned against it to watch him put on his shoes.

“See you again, my friend?”

Icarus looked up into Helios’s face, searched his eyes. “Icarus.”

“Icarus?”

Icarus smiled.

Stun

Icarus could hear the party long before he saw it. He wasn’t the only one walking down the street toward it, either. It wasn’t anyone he knew, but he could tell where they were headed because they were all talking loudly and some people were carrying drinks. Everyone looked like they had found the time to quickly tear off all their homecoming clothes and get into something more casual.

Icarus rolled his shoulders and widened his stride. He knew he could wear anything as long as he carried himself like it was on purpose.

The music was loud enough to make his ears hurt when he opened the front door. Luca’s house wasn’t big and it was crammed near to bursting with people.

Icarus wondered for about one second why no one had called the cops on this yet, before remembering that Akeem had said his dad was the captain. Typical.

He eyed the ceiling warily, wondering if there were this many people upstairs as well.

“Ayyy! Twelve Angry Men!” Some guy Icarus had never seen before in his life slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Looking good, short stack! Beer’s in the kitchen, Luca said to send you out back.” He gave Icarus a push to the right, then turned back to what appeared to be a wrestling match in the middle of Luca’s living room.

Icarus forced his way through the crowd and into the kitchen.