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It's another one of those days.
He goes through the motions, knowing everything should be okay, willing it to be okay . Despite the normalcy of the routine, however, or perhaps because of it, his mind doesn't quiet for even a moment.
Nobody would care if you died. Nobody would think twice. The few that may notice your absence will show their sad faces to those around them for the sake of politeness but secretly they will rejoice.
Travis puts his head down on his desk and tries not to groan. This is his favorite subject but he can't even hear his teacher. All he can hear is his mind.
They'll celebrate your death. They'll celebrate that you're finally gone.
It's awful to live this way, unable to silence the nails digging over his bones. Though, if one listened to his mind, that could likely be shorted to it's awful to live. Every piece of him is screaming.
He wants so badly to die. He wants so badly for it all to be over.
He just doesn't know why.
Things should be okay. He's healthy, his boyfriend is healthy, he has a boyfriend, his boyfriend is amazing… Even without Sal in mind, the fact remains that Travis' life is good now.
He's finally escaped his abusive father and is living in relative bliss as an emancipated teen. His cat is doing better than she ever has before, his oldest friend and new best friend are shacking up once they graduate (and he's going to be their roommate!), and he's been blessed with the luck to date the most wonderful person he's ever met in his life.
If he has it this good, then why does he feel so bad? He doesn't even have the energy to feel guilty for being so ungrateful. He just wants the pain to stop. His head just screams, the emotional equivalent of a migraine splitting his skull in half.
He wants to split his skull in half.
This feeling continues through to the end of second period, then through third and fourth, all the way into lunch. Walking to the cafeteria is a chore, made so much more difficult by the raucous noise of the happy students around him. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is laughing.
Why doesn’t Travis feel that way? He’s too tired and too miserable to even go through the motions of getting a food tray, but here everyone else is, completely untouched by whatever cruel thing has latched on to Travis. It’s like he’s fallen into a pit of leeches, but everyone else is just swimming as normal, playfully refreshed by the cool waters surrounding them.
His own table is sparse, missing three of his favorite people, but when he plops down next to Maple, he's still greeted with varying degrees of alarm.
"Shit, Trav," Larry is the first one to say anything, his hand reaching across the table to press his warm fingers against Travis' forehead. "You getting dehydrated?"
"Travis drinks much more water than any of us ever do," Maple retorts. She’s a comfortable presence on his right, radiating warmth that he desperately soaks up.
"Over-hydrated?"
Travis raises an eyebrow, but otherwise stays out of it. Right now, all he wants to do is lay his head down and tell himself that he's cared for. These people are arguing because they care about him. Yes, they are irritating, but they love him enough to irritate him.
It's not the best weapon against the inky fingers worming themselves into his head, but it's the weapon he has.
Todd adjusts his glasses, the metal rim catching the light and shining for a brief moment. "Today, being the second Tuesday of the month, is meatloaf day."
Taking a bite of his own meatloaf, Chug nods. "Not as good as salisbury steak day," He chews carefully, the way a wine taster rolls wine across their palette. "But still a damn good slab of meat."
Travis agrees only with the second portion of Chug's statement, although salisbury steak is good, especially with the weird wheat noodles served beside it. He and Chug are definitely on the same page there.
Sighing, Todd continues; "And it is Travis' second favorite school meal behind bologna day. Any dehydration would have to be quite severe in order to keep him from grabbing a plate." His eyes find Travis', then, a little knowing sparkle in them. "He does not appear to be suffering from the effects of dehydration, regardless."
"Nah, Maple's right," he sighs. "I drink water like Larry drinks Jolt."
"Maybe if you drank more Jolt than water, you wouldn't be dying of over-hydration."
The muscles of Travis' face twitch and he desperately works with them to smile, but it isn't as bright as it could be. As it should be.
The forced smile must tell Larry something that Travis isn't expressing through his words, because he stands. Sliding his legs out of the bench more gracefully than a gazelle, he leans forward to clap Travis on the back and says, "I'm gonna go get you a plate, buddy. Sit tight."
He isn't sure he could stomach eating right now, but he can't deny the way his eyes sting a little at the gesture.
Maple puts a hand on his arm and squeezes. "I'll go make sure he gets you strawberry milk and not the regular stuff."
"I love you, Mapes."
"I know."
And then Maple is gone too, scurrying off after Larry and leaving her brown lunch bag behind her. Travis watches her go, feeling the weight pushing down on him lift just the slightest amount when she bumps into Larry from behind, shoving him playfully to make him grin. Seeing them happy, doing him a favor… It helps.
He can’t explain why, but it helps.
With those two gone, it's just Chug and Todd, both of whom look at Travis with half-lidded worried eyes.
"Ugh," he groans. He slumps his head back into his arms, stomach churning with as much sickness as butterflies at their kindness. Now that he’s feeling coherent enough to feel loved, that love is starting to sow guilt into the lining of his gut.
Chug, luckily, doesn't say much. He just adjusts his bag of Cheezy Poofs so Travis can take one if he so likes. More perceptive than he seems, this guy. Eyes stinging again, Travis regrets all over again than he ever treated Chug like shit.
Todd, too. The look Todd is giving him is so simultaneously concerned and compassionate that it makes Travis wanna stand and bolt.
I don’t deserve you , he wants to tell them. He swallows those thoughts whole and lets them stew somewhere he can’t see them.
Todd slides further down the bench until he's sitting directly across from Travis. He steeples his fingers in front of himself, elbows on the table, and asks, "Is this about private matters?"
Travis instantly knows what he means. "No," he answers. He thinks it's mostly true. It’s hard to tell what triggered these feelings, but he doesn’t think it’s because of that. "Just feeling like shit, I guess."
That elicits understanding nods from both Todd and Chug. "We all get that nameless empty sometimes," Chug murmurs. "Hurts, man."
Travis doesn't have the heart to tell him that this ‘empty’ is full of something briny and dark and cruel. "It sure fuckin' does." He runs a hand over his face and sighs.
Suddenly, he wishes he were at Addison's. He wants to be in his little temporary room next to Chug's, sitting around with his friends with his kitty on his lap. He wants to change into his only denim skirt just to feel free , lean his full weight against Sal’s warm body, and fiddle playfully with Todd's watch while it's still on his wrist.
He fucking hates that he can't do that right now. The watch, especially. It's such a simple thing, such a casual touch, but even that much could mean drawing the eyes of crueler kids than Travis could have ever hoped to be. Something as small as toying with his friend’s watch can bring hell down on them if the wrong people catch sight of them.
Maybe it’s more about private matters than he knows.
As if thinking the same thoughts, Todd starts messing with his watch, freckled fingers tapping gently against the round edges. "Here comes Sal," he says, then taps his watch more pointedly, smiling. "Just on time?"
Travis smirks. "Don't quit your day job, Morrison." Then he turns, almost grinning at the sight of his boyfriend entering the room.
And that’s not all. Sal is followed by Ash and Ash's butch, who are carefully not holding hands with their shoulders pressed close. Travis waves to them; Ash grins, Dawn winks, and Sal waves back.
Sal sits to his left, between Travis and Chug, with Ash and her butch moving over to the spot where Todd had been before. Maple’s spot is still free, but poor Larry is going to be pushed to the very edge of the bench at this rate.
"What took you guys so long?" Travis directs the question to Dawn, shooting hir a glare as ze grinningly removes hir cap. Once free, hir hair is wild and tangled with sweat. Gross. "Were you in the courtyard?"
"Yep." Ze pops the 'p', then turns to tell Ash that ze'll get her something to eat before going to do just that.
Ash smiles after hir, then turns back to Travis. "We were taking pictures. I wanted to see if I could get some good shots before the courtyard got all full and noisy."
"Makes sense."
Unless one counts drumming his fingers against the table for making noise, Sal is suspiciously quiet at Travis' side. He's staring up at Travis is noticeable concern.
Travis blinks back. "Uh- You okay, Sally?"
"I was going to ask you that." His drumming fingers stop, no longer vibrating through the table to be felt in Travis' arms. "You look like you need some rest."
Rest. If it were only so simple. When he feels this way, rest often eludes him. Trying to so much as nap feels like catching spiny fish with his bare hands in a freezing pond. Impossible and painful besides.
He doesn't want to worry Sal though, so he shrugs. "Probably. Just been a long day already."
"I hear you…" He sighs, which Travis knows just bounces off his mask and blows the air up into his eyes. "If you want, we can ask Larry to drive us home?"
Travis' eyes go wide. "Like… ditch school?"
"Yeah." He shrugs like it's nothing. Considering his multiple cases of breaking and entering, it probably is, but Travis still shakes his head in amazement. "What? You don't want to?"
"I want to so fucking bad."
"Then I'll ask him. We can go home and hang out with Stand Up and Gizmo."
Ugh, that sounds amazing. Stand Up is the best kitty ever and seeing her get along with Gizmo is so completely adorable, Travis' heart could burst. And even though the scary loud thoughts he's having won't magically disappear when he gets home, they'll be a whole lot easier to cope with when he isn't feeling like a failure for being unable to pay attention. It’s scientifically proven that the purr of a cat has healing effects anyhow, right?
If only Todd were a mind-reader, he’d be proud of Travis’ logical conclusions.
Larry and Maple return, bringing Dawn along with them. Dawn is precariously balancing two meatloaf trays on hir arms, but at Ash's wide-eyed amusement, hams up the display just to make her laugh.
"You guys need to stop being cute." Larry teases, putting Travis' tray in front of him. "You’re gonna give the rest of us cavities.”
Now that the food is in front of him, Travis' stomach growls. Shit, did he eat breakfast? Or for that matter, take his pills? It's so hard to remember when he's this miserable.
It's easier to feel good now that everyone's around him, smiling and laughing. It's easier to feel good with a warm meal that his friend brought him. Plus, the carton of milk on the tray is indeed strawberry - his favorite and only way to drink milk.
Maple winks and pulls another pink carton from her hoodie.
"Theft, Maple?!" He gasps. "Scoundrel!"
She giggles, rolling her eyes. "Everyone gets a free milk, you goofball."
"Yeah, I know. I just like to bully you."
Maple pushes him gently. "What happened to turning over a new leaf?"
"The only leaf I know is marijuana."
Larry looks over in interest, making both Maple and Travis laugh. It's a real laugh, not at all like the jagged smile he couldn't quite force onto his face just a few minutes ago. Already, the weight is easier to bear.
He takes a few bites of his food, letting the familiar taste calm him. It's not exactly good food, but as far as cafeteria food goes, it's pretty damn edible. He misses bologna day, but he can't complain too much.
"Hey, Larry?" Sal pipes up. Travis looks over, then at Larry.
"Yeah, bros?" Larry looks between them in obvious interest, eyes open and earnest. “What do you need?”
"Travis and I were wondering if you'd drive us to the apartments. I think my guy needs a day off."
Fear jolts at the casual use of my guy - if it weren't for the fear freezing him in place, he'd look around to be sure it went unheard - but so does affection. A warm, seeping adoration that makes his fingers tingle. That feeling only grows as Todd moves to steal a sip of Travis’ milk, as Maple leans her head against his shoulder, as Ash plucks a chip out of Chug’s bag.
With an easy shrug, Larry nods. "Sure. I can't ditch with you guys, though, so I'll have to drop you off. Mom wants me to bring up my grades."
Todd folds the milk closed, placing it back on Travis’ tray. “I’m happy to accompany you, if you so wish. The only class I have left is physics.” Travis always forgets that Todd has a half day, being a senior.
“Oh, me too,” says Dawn. Ze takes another bite of hir food, covering hir mouth with one hand as ze continues, “I haven’t seen Stand Up in forever. Can’t pay attention for shit today anyways. Might as well take a break.”
“I’d love to,” says Maple. “But I don’t wanna get in trouble.”
Ash sighs. “Same here.”
“Thirded,” thirds Chug.
A smile slides slowly onto Larry’s face. “It’s settled then. The four of you can jump into my junker soon as we’re done eating and then I gotta speed back to the school to hang with these dorks.”
Ash sticks her tongue out at him at that, making him grin.
“No actual speeding though,” Sal waggles his finger pointedly at Larry. “Traffic laws are not a suggestion. Most of the time.”
“Yeah, man, safety first. I hear you.”
Travis takes another bite of his lunch. He feels… good. The sadness still weighs heavily on him and his mind is still happy to supply the thousands of reasons his life is forfeit but… There is a light here. It can’t quite chase the shadows from the corners of his heart, but it can illuminate the things worth looking at.
Even if he can’t see his own value right now, he can see the people that do. For now, that has to be enough.
Sal’s hand finds his under the table, his touch tender and familiar, even in secrecy.
For now, it’s enough.