Before he had started the painting, he had asked if he could take a picture of me. I was doing my math homework in the corner of the art room, I had completely forgotten that I had class with him. Or that he was even seated next to me. Icarus and I started dating around when we were twelve, before we knew. It was how you would imagine the typical middle school relationship was. It was really awkward and we honestly barely talked, we had only really gotten together because other people thought we would make a good couple. I’ll admit, I thought he was pretty cute, but I knew I didn’t have a crush on him. I think he knew that too. 

    When he had asked, he was holding that little blue digital camera so tightly, I honestly thought he was going to break it and he looked like he was about to pass out. I was a little confused, why would he need a picture of me? I said yes anyways and he set up the camera and put a timer on it. He asked if it was okay if he could hold my face. I nodded and he carefully cupped my face, his hands were rough. I didn’t mean to turn my head away from him, but I think he noticed.

    The camera flashed and the picture was taken.

    A few weeks later, I tried to look over at what he was painting. It was just a bunch of red blotches at that point then and when he noticed that I was looking, he had tried to cover it up with his arms. He always got really shy about his art. I love his art, I always thought he was going to become an artist when he grows up. I think he should.

    He told me it was a surprise for me, that I can’t look at it yet. His face was red and I smiled and shook my head. He’s so particular about those types of things. Was. Was particular. I keep forgetting.

    By the time that painting was finished, we had broken up. It was around Christmas by then, I remember because it was snowing pretty hard when it happened. It was mutual, but I could tell he felt a little hurt. I did too, to be honest. I liked being around him and spending time with him, he was genuinely a fun guy to be around and I was a little sucker for his little braids. But we both knew that we really just did not like each other like that. We hugged right after and he squeezed me hard. I think he might have needed that hug.

    A couple days later, he came up to me with a wrapped canvas in hand. He said it was for me, it was the surprise. He had it wrapped up in pretty wrapping paper and put a little light blue bow on it, my favorite color. He had run off before I could open it, everyone was going home for the holidays. Except me, of course. I remember going up to my empty room, carefully taking off the wrapping paper, I could tell he really tried to make it as neat as possible. My heart was beating so fast when I finally opened it.

    It was me with Icarus’ hands cradling my face, the picture he took that day in the art classroom. My head was turned and I had such an annoyed look on my face. I was never annoyed by him. I didn’t mean to turn my head away from him. I really miss him.

    I really miss my friend.

    I really miss Icarus.

    The seat beside me in art is so empty.