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Sal likes giving gifts.
It can be hard to buy things for himself sometimes, because of that strange, nameless guilt that sits like a cherry pit in the bottom of his stomach, so he points his urge to splurge happily at those around him instead.
New paint for Larry's masterpieces, new records for Ash's vinyl collection, new tiny tools and slides for Todd's experiments… Though his own health upkeep can be expensive - antidepressants and painkillers aren't free - he tries to buy things for people pretty regularly. It's just a good way to show them he thinks of them. Sometimes, they'll buy him something in return, even though he tells them they don't have to, and it's a nice reminder that people think of him too.
After a while with a new friend, they'll even start buying (or making!) him things without him gifting them anything first, and it's sweet. It's one of the few nice things he has to talk about in therapy.
"Maple bought me a really cool tape yesterday. Listening to it made me feel like we're really friends."
"See, Sal? You aren't unlovable. You are obviously very appreciated."
It's good. Sal likes it.
Still, it never stops surprising him to find gifts in his locker.
He picks up the little purple gift bag gingerly, wondering who it's from. The bag color makes him think Ashley, but it could be from Chug. He was very grateful for the gift basket Sal gave him. Sal tried to get as many different candied as possible - one of each from the store. Hopefully the stuff lasts Chug a while; it was a very expensive gift!
There aren't very many other people it could be from, Sal thinks. Only so many people know his locker combination, after all. He rummages inside for a card anyways and comes up with a small note.
To: the prettiest, nicest, funniest, smartest, coolest, punkest, nerdiest, gothest, dorkiest, Salliest person in the entire school, country, continent, and world. From: Your secret admirer.
There's no other name, just a heart drawn next to the words, but the handwriting is familiar. He recognizes it from that day in the boys' bathroom, from the crumpled up note he'd carefully pocketed.
Sal feels the back of his neck grow hot, traveling up to his ears and what little of his face he can feel. Did Travis write this?
They've only been friends a semester, meeting up at the arcade and the mall sometimes when Mr. Phelps gives his son the okay. Sometimes Travis lies and says he has a study group, but sometimes they actually study.
The first time Travis came over to his house (and so far, the only time), the boy had been so nervous and shy - until Sal introduced him to Gizmo. Then it was like Sal wasn't even there.
He can't blame Travis, though. Gizmo is a truly hypnotic beast.
Even with Gizmo in the picture, though, Travis still has room for Sal in his life. Sal blushes harder. Maybe even room in his heart, if the note is anything to go by.
Sal had slowly started to hope that the crumpled confession on the bathroom floor was for him, but he didn't actually think Travis would ever return his crush.
Maybe he's thinking too deeply into things. After all, the note could be a joke or something. Travis is a weird guy and he doesn't always know how to have friends. He never had any before Sal.
Sal shakes his head to bring himself back to the present. He'll ask Travis about it later, if he can work up the guts. For now, he has a few gifts he still hasn't look at. From his search for the note, he knows there's more than one thing in the bag.
The first thing Sal pulls out is a set of scrunchies. They're all pretty, muted colors and they look heavy-duty, too. This is the good stuff. They'll hopefully last him longer than his usual hair ties and be less prone to snapping as well.
Next up is a collection of expensive-looking sketch pencils. There's fancy blue ones meant for linework and some made for delicate pencilwork. They make Sal excited to practice drawing some more.
Then is more scrunchies, these ones all different shades of black. One of them is lacy, like a goth doily. He digs it and can't wait to wear it. It'll be perfect for days he wants to wear a single bun.
The last thing in the bag is probably the best, though Sal won't discount the other cool things by saying so. Underneath all the other parts is a new videogame: a cartridge for Armadillex on his M54. It's supposed to be a pretty good game, according to the gaming magazines Sal sometimes flips through. It's about an armadillo that's also a secret agent. And how could a game with that description not be good?
He's been meaning to check it out, but buying it for himself would have been too hard. It's just too expensive. The guilt would have been too loud to cope with.
Did Travis remember him mentioning the game and save up for it? He always looks so serious when Sal is talking, like there's nothing more important than listening to what he has to say. Those brown eyes gazing at him so intensely… It always makes Sal stutter. He's surprised Travis understood enough to even learn Sal wanted the game, let alone remember that fact.
Carefully, Sal places everything back in the gift bag, including the note. He'll compare the handwriting later. If they truly do match, this one will be joining Sal's under his pillow.
Maybe it's superstition, but Sal believes that having the note under his pillow chases away nightmares with dreams of Travis. Hopefully the new one can join and chase his nightmares away once and for all. He already kind of feels like this is a dream.
Sal walks into class still smiling.