Page 66 of Ice Darling
The guttural sound of an engine fills the air.
“What the…”
Just then, my phone pings.
I open the front door instead of checking the device and watch Cordelia zoom down the street on her bike. My gaze sweeps to where she was working on my car. Her toolbox is gone, and all the wires and tape pieces are neatly cleared away.
Two tall glasses of lemonade melt on the driveway next to my truck. They look sad and abandoned in the afternoon sunshine.
I’m not just an idiot. I’m a raging idiot.
Of course, she ran. I’d run away from me too, if someone creepily started wiping my fingers without permission.
Gritting my teeth, I check my phone.
There’s a new message.
Cordelia:Sorry. Something came up. Your car should be good to go. Rain check on the lemonade?
The pressure in my chest loosens, and I let out a relieved exhale.
Rain check.
Rain check is good. It’s an invitation for more. At least it’s not a “never come near me again, you bumbling buffoon.”
She could be bluffing, trying to spare my feelings, but I don’t think she’s the type to lie for the sake of politeness.
Feeling like I can breathe again, I decide I’d rather wait for Gordie outside of her elementary school than wait around at home. The house feels empty now that Cordelia’s gone, Mom’s at her friend’s and Gordie’s at her after-school club.
After driving to the elementary school, I watch some hockey videos in the car while I wait.
Mrs. Nelson, the teaching assistant, notices me as she’s leaving.
She waves. “Hey, Mr. Renthrow.”
“Mrs. Nelson, how are you?” We exchange pleasantries.
“Oh, did you get the message?”
“What message?”
“Miss Potts said she wanted to see you.”
My shoulders stiffen on impact. “Is it about Gordie?”
“No, no.” Mrs. Nelson makes a calm-down gesture. “Gordie’s been great. The guidance counselor gave us lots of information about Gordie’s condition. Miss Potts took a special interest.”
Mrs. Nelson finishes her statement with a knowing smile. It’s not my first time hearing the people around Miss Potts leave hints at her intentions toward me.
I artfully steer the conversation away from that direction. “Thanks for letting me know. Is Miss Potts free now?”
“Yes, she’s free. She’sveryfree.” Mrs. Nelson winks. “You better hurry up before that changes.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile and climb out of my car.
Inside, the elementary school is decorated with bright walls, colorful lockers, and doors all along the hallway that lead to spacious classrooms.
The school day has been over for a while, so there aren’t many children running around in the corridor. Almost everyone is tucked into a classroom or the gym, practicing their extracurriculars.
