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The day's been almost comfortably boring so far.
Sal woke up to Gizmo on his face, which meant he was awkwardly picking cat hairs out of his scars for most of the morning, and then he made himself some plain freezer waffles, which he ate on the way to the bus. The bus ran ten minutes late, so he nearly fell asleep standing up while waiting for it. Each class has been mostly lecture, which he politely yawned through, except for his Speech class, which was some weird, out-of-date video that he couldn't help snoozing through. Luckily, he doesn't snore.
Even lunch was kind of boring. Nobody felt like sitting in the cafeteria, so he and his friends sat outside in the courtyard and listened to the birds. It was nice. A little dreary with the overcast sky and chilly weather, but a nice reprieve from the morning's onslaught of boredom.
Now it's the break between 6th and 7th period and Sal is just ready to go home and play some video games. Or better yet, take a long catnap.
Ash walks him to his locker, helping him dodge other hallway-goers as she stretches her arms above her head. "Gaah, I'm way too sleepy. Today's been so lazy."
"It really has," Sal sighs. "I'm not sure why , considering my life-long insomnia, but I want to sleep for days."
"You said it." Ash shakes her head, then kindly opens his locker for him to put his books into. "Oh-!"
As soon as his locker clicks open, a piece of paper falls out of it. It's a piece of that special stationary that the art teacher hoards; he can tell as soon as he sees it, because he's been fighting the urge to steal some all semester.
"Oh, here." Ash reaches down to grab it, closing her hand around the clumsily-folded paper gingerly. "My bad, Sal. I didn't mean to drop your stuff."
"Thanks. I wonder who put this here..." He opens it carefully to find out, but is frozen by what he finds inside.
He stares in shock. It's… But there's no way. He's never received a love letter - and he knows there's no one who would ever send one. Still, there it is, plain as day; Dear Sally Face, it says, in print so carefully written that the letters are wobbly, as shaky as he is.
Ash walks around to his good side, allowing him to see her worried face. "Sal? You okay?"
A part of Sal wants to tell her 'no'. That part wouldn't be lying. He's never received anything like the thing he has in his hands and he never thought he would, either. Seeing it, seeing it address so plainly to him… It makes his eye sting with sudden tears.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He swallows and folds the letter quickly, before she can see it, and stuffs it into his pocket. "I'll, um- tell you about it later."
Whether that is a tentative truth or a convenient lie remains to be seen, but Sal doesn't think he'll ever be able to tell anyone about this, even as he wants to hold it above his head and shout in joy. Instead, he walks Ash to her class and then as soon as she's through the door, runs off to the boys' bathroom like something is chasing him.
He closes himself in the furthest stall without even checking if the others are occupied. He doesn't care. All he cares about right now is reading this letter.
It's a joke - it must be. It's some mean, horrible prank someone's decided to pull. There's no other explanation.
Still, he finds his hands shaking with fear and resignation and hope as he unfolds the letter, unable to stop himself from running his eye over the delicately designed border and carefully scripted Dear and From .
The From is blacked out thrice before it finally says simply, your secret admirer.
If it were a joke, they wouldn't put that, right? Sal doesn't know. He's never been one for playing cruel pranks and most kids are too afraid of the weird girl with the prosthetic face to give him much actual trouble.
With a deep breath, Sal looks down and begins to read.
~
Dear Sally Face,
I know we don't really know each other and you probably have your opinions of me, but the truth is, the person you have those opinions of isn't honest.
I wish I could just come out and tell you all about the real me. I can't stop thinking about you. I'm crazy about you. I think you're amazing! But I know these feelings are wrong, so I hide them, and I hide the rest of me too. It's not the way a boy should feel or be.
Sometimes, when I close my eyes and think of you, all of that fear and shame washes away, and I can live in a world where it's nothing other than right. I can pretend that you know me and even if you don't like me, it's honest. That's the thing I like the most about you: you're honest.
You're brave, and you're strong, and you're so fucking honest. You're the coolest guy in the school and possibly the planet. I want to be like you. I want to be with you.
I hope this letter doesn't freak you out. I'm not going to ask you to return my feelings, especially considering what I've said and done, but I wanted to try to be honest. Like you.
From, Your Secret Admirer
~
Sal stares. He reads it again. He reads it a third time.
Honest, brave, strong, cool . He keeps telling himself this letter is for someone else, that it's a mistake - but who else is known as Sally Face? There's only one Sally Face in Nockfell, as far as he's aware, and certainly only one Sally Face who uses his locker.
Which means that this guy, whoever wrote this, he really does like Sal. It's so ernest, so open, even if he couldn't bear to bare himself at the end in full. He didn't sign his name, but he signed his heart, and he did it for Sal. He did it because he likes Sal.
It's all so unreal.
Sal reads it again. He folds it, pushes it into his pocket, before pulling it back out to keep looking at it. Something about it is familiar, naggingly so, but he doesn't know how or why or what. He just knows he received a love letter. He, Sal Fisher, has received a love letter.
He hopes his secret admirer is doing just as well as he is right now. After a feat as brave and honest and heart-shatteringly real as this, the guy absolutely deserves it.
If Sal only had a name, he'd send one back.