Icarus

All I wanted was a chance to make sense of everything. To have a normal high school experience, like everyone else. Graduate and leave, like everyone else. But you ruined it. You decided to be different. You inspired me to be different. You ruined my chance to be normal, and now I’m peddling 20 miles per hour in the pouring rain, just to keep you around. This is like those indie movies you love, and you just had to thrust me in the middle of one. God, my head is spinning. Ike, please be okay so I can kill you.

When we first met, you didn’t have half the problems you have now. Almost as if the closer we became, the more obligations you put on my psyche. That said, I’ll never truly understand all the pain you had to go through. There are still people who won’t accept you for who you are. People who think you’re gay just for attention. Just to agitate, as if you could turn it on and off. As if God didn’t put you on this Earth like this...and your bastard of a father. That Bible-thumping prick. I wish I could show him the hell he put you through. 

You’ve opened my eyes to so much. You’ve helped me see how beautiful life can be. The strange mix of childlike wonder and cynical realism you always delivered kept me alert and awed all at once. Life is complex and strange, but that’s why it’s worth the experience. That’s why, no matter how bleak things get, I’ll never know why you would ever consider suicide. You always talk about it in jest, so I never dwelled on it for long. But we’ve become so close that I notice everything about you: the hint of pain in your smile, the sluggishness in your walk, the scars on your wrists. You put on a mask to deal with everyone’s shit, but you’ve been dying inside. I haven’t done nearly enough to make you feel better. That’s why I’m rushing to you now. I know you care enough about me to be around me a lot, but I don’t know how deep that runs. Maybe after I say what I need to say to you, that’ll change. Maybe, at the very least, you’ll know how selfish you’re being if you go through with it. Fuck, which street leads to the cliff? You owe me a goddamn car after this. 

People always seem to love cliffside roads because of the view of the ocean, how the sunset glistens off the water like a field of diamonds going on forever. No one ever comes when Posiden is having a hissy fit, which makes sense because it looks like the world is ending. Pretty fitting considering the situation, but I wish someone would warn me. I also wish you’d get your fucking head straight before we catch pneumonia. 

The moment I pull up to the grassy cliff, I’m slapped with the memory of the first time you brought me here. 

It wasn’t even three weeks ago, you stood on the back as I peddled us all the way here. It was the least I could do since you went out of your way to get some weed. The day was as clear as a supermodel’s complexion. I was really high so I don’t remember much, but I still remember what you said:

“I could really use a burrito right now. Or 20.” 

“What did you mean?” I said, barely paying attention. 

“I don’t actually think I can eat 20 burritos. I’m just stupid hungry right now.”

“Not that...you said ‘Our lives aren’t our own until--”

“Until we pretend they are.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You remained silent for a moment as if you were trying to solve a tough equation. 

“My stomach is screaming for a burrito. It’s writing letters to my brain, sending texts to my legs, telling them to get up and run to Chipotle. It’s waiting for someone to do something for it, instead of taking action for itself. If it really wanted to eat, and I mean really wanted, it would crawl out of my body and do it itself. Or it would eat my appendix. Not like I need it anyway.”

You have an amazing way of knowing exactly what to say without making any sense.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

I remember that made you laugh really hard.

“I was trying to be deep, you meathead. My stomach can’t do anything on its own. It needs all of me to get what it wants: legs to get it somewhere, arms to put food in, mouth and throat to chew and swallow, etc. It’s held down by a system. I don’t want my life to depend on a system, I want my life to depend on me. No one holding me back.”

It must’ve been 80 degrees outside, but something about the way you looked out to the horizon gave me chills.

“I wanna fly freely. Unshackled. If anyone tries to hold me down, I’ll shake em’ off, and they’ll drown. People who spend their lives as obstacles aren’t people. Just obstacles. Don’t you feel the same?”

You’re so carefree, even now, whilst getting pummeled by the rain. Just chilling on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a 100-foot drop. 

“IKE!” I yell out to you, half angry, half worried. 

“45! Took you long enough.”

My dad named me Colt, like the gun, and you were one of the first people that caught on to it. You didn’t make fun of me for it. You didn’t cast me out like I was cursed or dangerous. You thought it was cool. You accepted me from the start. That’s why--

“Why are we here?”

“Well, in my case at least, pops got super wasted one night, figured ‘Hey, I’m at a house party. Shouldn’t be too hard to get my dick wet.’ So then he went up to this one bitch I call mom--”

“Stop! You know what I mean.”

“Caught you blushing. I told you I wanted to show you something.”

“Why here?”

“I needed a high point. Dramatic effect.”

My heart sinks in my stomach. I’m on the verge of bursting into tears. “Why though?”

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked surprises.”

“Not like this, Ike.” My voice starts breaking. Even in the pouring rain, my tears are obvious.

You stared at me for the longest time, like you were cracking a code. “We’re not on the same page are we?”

I stared back, confused, maybe even somewhat relieved. “What do y--”

“Trust me, you’ll love this one.”

You jumped off. It felt like slow motion, but it still only lasted a moment. I didn’t even feel my legs move as I sprinted towards the edge. My heart stops as I look over the cliffside.

“IKE!”

Ta-da.”

There you are. Suspended in midair. Just floating. A big smile forms on your face. 

“Like I said. Dramatic effect.”

Words fail me. I still don’t know what is happening. But here you are. Just floating. You float over the edge so we’re at eye level again. 

“Pretty cool, right? Sorry to freak you out, but this was the only way I could really show you.”

“By giving me a heart attack…”

“Of course. Finding out your best bud has superpowers is a pretty heart-stopping moment.”

“But...how though?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I was grounded for sneaking out to go to a concert, and while I was on house arrest, I started floating. Maybe something at the concert? A mutagen in the beer or radiation in the fog machines? Either way, I just kinda woke up like this and knew I had to show you.”

You hadn’t even realized yet. The wish you’d made had come true. You said you wanted to fly, and now you’re flying. Which is why…

“Can we go somewhere?”

“Where?”

Wherever you want. You’re the one that flies, not me.”

That look of recognition in your eyes, like you could take off at light speed and not think twice about it. The fire in your eyes could’ve evaporated the rain in an instant. 

“Fine, but you're gonna be on my back the whole time, so no funny business.”