Page 61 of Icarus

Ambrosia

Sorrel’s mom worked nights, but before she left she had prepared a small tea party for them. Finger sandwiches, a few shortbread cookies with jam, rolls of ham and cheese, cream in a little carafe, water just boiled on the stove. The choice of Earl Grey or English breakfast, both decaf of course.

Sorrel seemed a bit embarrassed, but not so much that he wasn’t grateful.

Icarus, on the other hand, was thrilled. It was adorable. If this was Luca’s house he would have begun making fun of him immediately, but he couldn’t do that to Sorrel, so instead he just glowed with delight.

They moved to the back porch to eat, leaving Sorrel’s grandma inside.

“She’s not very nice,” Icarus said immediately.

Sorrel just shrugged. “I think she thinks she’s being encouraging. Tough love generation and all that.”

That would make sense. He wished he had as easy of an excuse for his dad.

“So . . . Mina Silvestri . . .?” Icarus started. He felt nosey about it, they would be a weird couple.

Sorrel made a few expressions before taking the bait. “She used to live a few houses down from me. I like her energy? She’s full of . . .”

“Pep?” Icarus suggested.

“Confidence. I wish I had her confidence,” Sorrel said, popping a cookie in his mouth.

“She’s . . . certainly something. She was at the party I went to. She dragged her nails across my face and tried to hand-feed me a sandwich.”

Sorrel laughed and Icarus realized it was the first time he’d heard him do that so openly.

“Hmm. Yeah,” he said when he finished. “That’s what I like about her.”

Icarus gazed at Sorrel and the lavender glow on him from the setting sun.

He pulled out his phone and texted Celestina for the first time.

Icarus: Hey Celestina, this is Icarus. I made a new friend and I want you to meet him. Is that ok?

Celestina replied immediately.

Celestina: What? Yes. Omg yes. Who is it?

Icarus: Sorrel McAllister. Sorrel’s into Mina, so he’ll probably want to talk about that.”

“What are you doing?” Sorrel asked, peering over Icarus’s shoulder.

Icarus let him. “I’m setting up a hangout with Celestina, you, and Luca maybe, if you want.”

Sorrel locked eyes with him. “You don’t have to do that for me,” he said seriously.

Icarus leaned back and met Sorrel’s resolve equally. “Would you prefer I didn’t?”

Sorrel broke their connection and looked out toward the grass, the wildflowers at the edge of his yard, and the sun glowing red in a sea of indigo.

“I don’t like to owe people,” Sorrel said.

That, Icarus understood.

He picked up a cookie. “You don’t owe me anything. Consider it payment for this.”

Choke