Page 99 of Icarus

“I’m not being mean to you, Icarus. There are just certain—”

“Please,” Icarus interrupted. He placed both hands, palm side down on her desk and bowed his head. Begged. “I need help, and I need you to be kind to me. I promise I will come back to say thank you. Afterward.”

Mrs. Drake sighed. “After what, Icarus.”

“Just give me a year and I’ll come back,” he whispered.

Mrs. Drake was quiet. Then she reached under her desk into the drawer she’d opened.

“Sign this and postdate it for the next business day after your birthday. When you need it, write the school a formal letter requesting that it be sent to your new institution and we’ll send it out for you.”

“Thank you,” he said. He quickly signed the paperwork and grabbed his backpack. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said, standing.

“You’d better not.”

Mrs. Drake was looking down at his signature contemplatively. Icarus drummed his fingers against the top of the form, then backed away from the desk.

“I mean it. I’ll finish school and come back here with something nice for you, so don’t retire before that or anything.” Perhaps he would give her a Vermeer.

Mrs. Drake scowled. “I’m forty-eight.”

Icarus realized that he should get out of here while he was still ahead.

“Okay. I’m going to leave now.”

“Close the door behind you.”

Akeem

Icarus stood in front of Mrs. Drake’s office, head tilted back, eyes closed. He rolled his shoulders to throw off his stress and sighed.

“Ayy man. How you doing?” Akeem and Patrick were headed down the hall.

Akeem slapped Patrick on the shoulder. Patrick nodded goodbye and peeled off toward the main exit. Akeem continued toward Icarus.

“Been waiting for you. You got a minute?”

Icarus was uncomfortable and not really in the mood, but he nodded, and followed Akeem to a quiet spot by the back stairs. Akeem was at least a foot taller than him and Icarus could tell he was slowing down to match Icarus’s short stride.

“You lookin’ a bit better these days, not gonna lie,” Akeem started with a grin. “Not happier, but, you know. Not a liability.”

“I . . . I wanted to say thanks for your offer earlier,” Icarus started. “I know you didn’t have—”

Akeem cut him off. “And that’s where you’re wrong, man.” He stopped walking and turned to face Icarus directly. “You got people looking out for you. You hear on the news about kids doing some fucked-up shit because no one was watching out for them. So now, we all watch.”

He looked down at Icarus and Icarus felt so small and peculiar.

“Luca mentioned something about people calling CPS,” Icarus started, tentatively. “I’m . . . really glad you didn’t do that.”

Akeem shrugged. “Luca said you got it covered. Next time I saw you in the hall, you looked different. I made him ask again just to double-check. You’re not the only one whose old man is hard on him; I know what it looks like. Tough in the streets, tough at home, you know?”

Icarus rubbed his neck and laughed awkwardly. “Yeah . . . I guess . . . yeah.”

“Mine was rough on my older brother and it didn’t go how he planned. Now he’s softer on me. But soft on a hard man ain’t none too gentle either.” Akeem shrugged. He adjusted his backpack strap over his shoulder. “I saw you in the counselor’s office, so I figured I’d check on you myself before we back off completely. She got you covered?”

Icarus nodded. He felt his throat getting tight and his eyes start to burn.

“Ayy, none of that.” Akeem sounded panicked at the idea that Icarus was about to cry. He looked over his back to make sure they were still alone. Then he slapped Icarus on the shoulder just like he had Patrick.