Page 58 of Icarus

Boiled

“After that, it was just normal. He got better at breaking in here, and by the time I was old enough to know what was going on, he started training me to do the same,” Icarus said. “I’ve been doing this since I was twelve.”

“That’s so fucked up. You do know that’s fucked up.”

“I mean, of course. But at the same time, complaining about this feels so . . . petty. Like, ‘Oh Dad, I don’t want to exact emotional, philosophical, and economic vengeance for your dead wife and my dead mom because I wanna go to school parties and have sleepovers.’ It just sounds stupid.” Icarus rubbed his temples.

“It’s not stupid, Icarus. That’s more than half your life that you can’t get back. That’s developmental opportunities ruined. No wonder you were ready to beat me to death to get out of the basement that one time. You never got to be normal.”

“I would never have hurt you,” Icarus promised, searching Helios’s eyes. “I just wanted to scare you. I was scared.”

“Don’t worry about it at all, seriously,” Helios muttered. “You looked so hot that day I almost passed out. All of your black gear really does something for me.”

Icarus laughed. “Jeez. Okay. Well. What was happening on your end that whole time?”

Helios flicked a glance at Icarus before allowing the subject change.

“If I’m managing my timelines correctly . . . basing this on our ages, my parents must have gotten their divorce about two years after your whole situation, and he kicked my mom and I out off and on until it stuck. When I was almost eight, we moved to New York and lived in a roach-infested apartment until my mom finished law school. But it was pretty much smooth sailing from there. He’s big into the whole ‘leaving people without a penny’ thing, I’m beginning to realize.”

“Hmm,” Icarus said again, looking at the anxiety on Helios’s face. He chose mercy. “That explains why you give off rich kid vibes but not like . . . generational wealth, own multiple million-dollar paintings vibes.”

“You are so mean,” Helios griped, as Icarus snickered again.

He could feel the joy ricocheting off his bones. He reached over and curled a finger in Helios’s hair.

“I like when you look at me like that. Fond,” Helios said, soft and true.

“Fond,” Icarus echoed.

Through

Before Icarus climbed back down, Helios caught him by the laces of his sweatshirt.

“My dad has been acting weird. I didn’t want to talk about it because it’s making me nervous. But he’s going to New York again. He’ll be gone for a week and a half, though. So you could maybe come and actually stay over.”

Icarus was too wrapped up in worry about the first thing Helios said to understand the last bit. He took long enough to respond that Helios began to deflate.

“No, Helios,” he said, gently. “I would love to come. I’ll . . . I’ll ask my dad if I can take a trip somewhere, but I’ll stay here. With you.”

“Mmm.” Helios darted forward and pressed their foreheads together, so quick, so soft. Then he let go of Icarus’s tether.

“He’ll be gone by eight p.m. on the nineteenth. See you then.”

Icarus flowed like water down the side of the house and floated home.

Taught

When Icarus came inside, Angus was sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for him.

“Where do you go in the evenings?” he asked plainly.

Angus didn’t even say hello. There was a glass of water next to him and a notebook that was worn and well used.

Icarus didn’t even pause. He’d practiced for this.

“The diner across from Black mansion. I used to go for walks before to deal with stress but it’s a bit easier to be walking somewhere in particular, and I like the coffee there.”

Icarus gazed across the room. Then his eyes locked on the coffee making supplies over his father’s shoulder. Coffee supplies he’d bought recently, of much higher quality than any diner would have. His hands went numb with anxiety. “Uh . . . and their late-night breakfast is nice too.”