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If there was ever a time when Sal was scared of what his family would think of him, it would be now. Sal sat alone at the wooden dining room table, awake at an ungodly hour, not because he had a tendency to wake early (which he sometimes did, but never before Todd) but instead his tendency to stay up. Just last night, he was on a phone call with Travis, secretly of course, and Travis had proposed the idea of telling Sal’s friend’s about their continued relationship.
It would have been a wonderful idea, and to be completely honest, Sal would have run to tell his friends the second he and Travis had become official…but his friends, especially Larry and Ashely, had a hard time letting go of the past. Sal knew that his lengthy explanation to his friends that Travis had changed, exponentially ever since he was able to land his father in jail, would just fly right over their heads as they relived the harsh treatment Sal had received from Travis in high school.
But Sal had made a promise to Travis, not only on that late-night call just hours earlier but almost a year ago, on his bed with wet nail polish on his hands. Sal let out a horse sigh as his head pounded with stress and the need for sleep. Sal lifted his head from his hands as he heard the creaks of steps down the stairs. Almost against his will, Sal grabbed his prosthetic mask and settled it on his face, only bothering with snapping on the topmost clip. Todd emerged from the bottom of the steps, groggily making his way to the kitchen. Sal would have laughed at his pajamas, a t-shirt with a tacky coder pun printed on the front, and plaid sweatpants that most likely belonged to Neil, seeing as they were two sizes too big for him– but Sal was too strung up and exhausted to waste any more breath.
Todd did his morning routine of making coffee, and those moments were filled with a sweet silence, except for the bubbling of the old coffee maker. It was only when Todd had taken the first few sips of his coffee that he turned and leaned against the kitchen counter and stared down at Sal’s slumped form.
“Are you alright, Sal?” Todd said calmly, almost methodically, as he took another sip from his mug. Sal started slightly, not expecting the question so early.
“Uh-yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. What makes you ask?” Sal says, focusing on keeping his voice neutral.
“Well, you usually only wear your prosthetic around us when there’s something wrong. I suppose I’m mistaken,” Todd responds, his words getting slower at that last statement. Sal saw Todd open his mouth again, and in a panic, Sal quickly spoke over him.
“Ash is coming over today.” Todd seems taken aback for a second, but then easily seems to accept the change in topic, slipping into the new conversation.
“That’s good news. It’s been quite a while since we’ve had the whole group together. Good timing, as well, I wanted to ask Ashely about the recent readings I've been getting on my Electric Wave Compaitor…”
Sal was relieved to fall into Todd’s banter as he tattles on about his newest invention and something about “foreign presence readings”, whatever that meant. Back in high school, Sal let Todd handle all the techy stuff while he, Larry, and Ash did the hands-on action. Recently, they haven’t been doing any actual ghost hunting, their last big adventure being the Bologna Incident. Sal almost missed it, but he understood that life catches up to you and that the group needed to settle.
When the conversation flowed to a comfortable silence, Sal took the moment to escape back to his room. With the quiet shut of his door, Sal finally felt like he could breathe again, and almost hated himself for it. He reached behind his head to unclip his mask and toss it on the bed, before laying down on it himself. His mattress was cheap and smelt faintly of dust but for Sal, it was the most comfortable thing he’s laid on in years. A buzzing drew his attention to his nightstand, where his phone, still plugged in, was vibrating. With a soft groan, he reached over and tugged the phone, the cord falling limply on the wooden end table.
When he saw the name, he didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Hey Travis, what’s up?”
“Sal, uh–listen, I was thinking about our conversation last night and I feel like I came on too strong. Obviously, I want your friends to know about…us, but then I was thinking how your friends thought of me–back in high school– and especially Larry, he hates everything about me and–” Sal had a hard time keeping up with the rushed voice of Travis spewing apologies and explanations. It was funny. Cute even. Sal shook his head.
“Travis–Travis! Calm down, it’s alright, man. You were right, it is about time they knew. I mean, come on, we’ve been dating for almost a year and they have no idea! It’s not fair to them, or you.”
The more Sal reassured Travis, the more he found his own words to be true. He did love his friends, and he does care about what they thought about him, almost at an alarming rate. But keeping this from his closest friends, his family, was cruel. It was eating Sal up, but telling them was a more potent plague. One he would have to overcome, he supposes.
There was shuffling over the phone for a moment before Travis’ voice chipped in, sounding slightly winded.
“Sal–you can’t just–oh my God, I hate you.”
When Sal thinks back on what he said, a blush bursts to his cheeks, enveloping him in heat. He was just glad Travis couldn’t see it.
“I thought you were over hating me?” Sal jokes, hoping it would ease the tension, and luckily for him, it does. And even luckier, Travis decides to play along.
“Whoever told you that? They're spreading fake news to you, Sal. You should find a better source.” There was slight shuffling in the background before Travis spoke up again, “I have to go, but I’ll call after work, okay?”
“Alright, talk to you soon.”
The line cut off, and the room was enveloped in silence once again, leaving Sal with his thoughts.
Sal’s eyelids felt heavier the longer he lay in the dark of his room. He tries to tell himself that Larry and Ash will be understanding. They have to be. Sal won’t deny how he feels about Travis, and certainly, certainly , that will be just enough to ease their minds.
It will all work out.
Sal says it to himself like a mantra until he can no longer keep his eyes open, welcoming the dark warmth with open arms and a wary mind.
He's startled awake by a knock on his door. The light knocking continues as he flounders on his bed, hastily putting on his mask and throwing the door open with heaving breaths. Ashley stood there looking as tall and beautiful as she’s always been. Her style stayed the same; a purple tank top covered by a thick, black leather jacket as well as ripped tights and a lacy black skirt. In fact, the only thing that has changed is her hair is shorter–now at her shoulders instead of her lower back. Sal suddenly wishes that he had brushed his hair or changed his clothes or simply just been more prepared because seeing her made him self-conscious as ever.
Ashley didn’t seem to care in the slightest, and the moment she saw Sal she let out a blinding smile that lit her whole face. The sunshine from her smile seeped into Sal and he softened, glad to see his friend again.
“Sal! Oh my god, I’ve missed you! How had you been?! Why haven’t you been texting me more?! Why-“ She pauses, her smile falling and her eyes searching. A tight knot takes hold of his heart and he finds himself begging she won’t say anything.
“You‘re still wearing your mask?”
“Heh, uh yeah. I mean…I just thought that I might use it, you know?” Sal awkwardly says, bringing his hand up and tracing the edge of his prosthetic mindlessly.
A look of concern passes over Ashley’s features, and as expected she doesn’t do anything to hide it. Ashley lets every emotion show when she’s feeling it in the moment, and it’s something Sal admires about her because it’s not something he can easily do. But seeing that look in her eyes makes Sal wish that she didn’t, because he can’t take making any more of his friends worry about him.
“Ashley!”
Fortunately, Larry is bursting from his room and already storming towards Ashley, and wrapping her in a tight hug. Sal uses the opportunity to slip by then and into the kitchen, hearing their excited chatter follow him. Larry and Ashley naturally sit at the dinner table and Sal is inclined to copy.
At the commotion, Todd comes downstairs as well and suddenly Sal is surrounded by his closest friends and a perfect moment handed to him on a silver platter. Dread boils in his stomach as his gaze flicks to the faces of his friends one at a time.
Stupid, Sal tells himself, just say it. They’ll still love you, just say it. Say it.
“U-umm–”
He chokes back on his own words, staring helplessly at the expecting faces of his friends. The room is filled with tense silence, as Sal is battling with himself. Larry is the first to speak after a full minute drags by.
“Dude, you’ve been acting weird recently. Is everything all good?”
“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Ash adds after him, reaching out her hand and draping it over Sals.
“I…I’ve been–that is that–”
Sal had the sudden urge to cry or maybe even scream. He wonders if this is how Travis felt every day of his life under his father's demonic eye. Every word he stutters feels wrong, but the empty silence isn’t any better either. Sal immediately regrets thinking that. Travis was in an abusive household with no one able to support him with a secret that could get him killed in his fathers' eyes. Sal had loving friends and a supporting family, who would fight for him come hell or high water.
Suddenly, everything feels very trivial.
“I’m dating someone,” Sal whispers, defeated.
There is a beat of silence, before Ashley's sunshine smile returns, and Larry is giving him a smack on the back.
“Oh Sal, that’s great!” Ashley exclaims.
“Sal, my man, finally letting loose a little. Good for you!” Larry jokes, that familiar lazy smirk back over his face.
“That is great news,” Todd adds, with a small nod of his own though an unreadable question in his eye.
Sal takes a deep, long breath just to prolong the inevitable before hesitantly speaking again.
“It’s Travis.”
The room is silent once more, as the faces of his friends slowly change. Todd has a look of understanding as if an equation finally makes sense and he can look for the answer. Ashley’s eyes widen and her once smiling mouth parts as her eyes endlessly scan over the prosthetic of Sal's face, searching for something Sal wasn’t sure he would have. Larry seemed the only one who didn’t understand the weight of Sal’s words. He was casting curious looks between Todd and Ashely, as he raises an eyebrow. Again, he is the first to speak.
“Okay,” he drags the word out, coming back to look at Sal.
“Sal…are you sure this is a good idea?” Ashley asked, tentatively.
“I wouldn’t date him if he was any danger to me. He’s different than he was in high school.”
“Highschool? Did we use to know this guy? Cuz’ the only Travis I know is…” Larry’s face goes suddenly pale as he seems to find something in Sal’s gaze that gave away the answer. Sal casts his eyes down, unable to see what would be hiding inside Larry’s eyes.
“No. You can’t serious.” Larry’s voice was sharp and cold as ice. Sal braced himself.
“Larry, let’s just hear him out,” Ashley says, voice soft with her own kind of sadness.
“No! Fuck that! Do you have any idea the way that Phelps fucker treated Sal in high school?! The comments, the blatant bullying! He fucking hit Sal! There’s no way I'm allowing this.”
Very rarely has Sal ever heard Larry let that kind of heat into his voice, and he remembers now why he hates hearing it. Anger like this didn’t suit Larry. He becomes a whole new monster, and Sal has no idea how to slay it.
“Yes, Larry. I was there,” Ashley shortly snaps, luckily throwing her irritation at Larry.
“Larry, I know this all seem’s wrong, but Travis has changed. He’s like a whole different person now, you probably wouldn’t be able to recognize him. He’s going to therapy and he’s happy. And I love him. ”
Sal’s voice breaks at the end but nothing he says seemed to penetrate Larry’s sudden anger. Larry bursts up from his seat and towers over everyone, glaring at Sal with his brown eyes on fire.
“How long has this been going on?” Larry spits.
“A year,” Sal whispers, and he hates that it sounds so weak to his ears. He should be proud to admit that, not guilty. This isn't right.
“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you. Travis has been manipulating you, hurting you, for a whole year! I should have seen this coming too! I’ve noticed that you’ve been acting weird lately. You’re always nervous, always laughing off jokes when I talk about you needing to hook up with someone. You hide away in your room more. Never tell us what you're doing when you leave the house. Does Travis make you do this, huh?!”
Larry was twisting his actions, turning them against him and there was nothing Sal could do about it. Because he’s not wrong. Sal tried to play off not wanting to date anyone by saying there was a lack of interest, that it just wasn’t the right time. He had thought Larry had just excepted that fact, it didn’t occur to him that Larry might have thought it strange. When Travis called, Sal would stay in his room, keeping his voice quiet and barely saying his name for fear that any one of them may hear. And, of course, when Travis and Sal would meet up, he would dodge any questions that come his way.
“Does he hit you, too?!”
Sal’s head snapped up at that, and his own anger swept him up like wind and suddenly he was standing as well, meeting Larry’s eyes definitely.
“You don’t know anything, Larry! You haven’t even met him, not how he is now. You can’t go around controlling my life, telling me who I can or can’t love just because you hold a stupid grudge. I’m not dumb. If Travis ever did anything to me that would hurt me, I wouldn't stick around. But he would never.”
“Maybe not now, but he will. And when that day comes, I’m not gonna be around to comfort you. Not unless you end it with him.”
Sal holds his gaze on Larry, not backing down even though everything in his brain is telling him that this is a mistake, and he’s making it worse. Unfortunately, a larger part it too stung by what Larry asked, and he childishly needed to hurt Larry back. After a long moment of ragged breaths between them, Larry's face scrunches up sourly.
“Fuck. You,” Larry whispers, before stalking away and slamming the door to his bedroom shut.
Sal stares at the space where Larry had been, all the anger leaking out of him like a broken pot. He slumps back into his seat, his body shaking as he stares at his remaining two friends. Ashley has an ashen look on her face, and Todd has his lips set in a tight white line.
“Sal, I can’t say that I…agree with you, but I support you, no matter what. I just hope you’re not going regret this,” Ashley whispers, a stark contrast to the screaming just seconds before. She reaches out her hand, squeezing Sal’s briefly, before pulling away and getting up, mumbling something about going to calm down Larry.
When Ashely is gone, Todd gets up and stands at Sal’s side, a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything but Sal could read his expression and the soft contact as if he was saying: give them time. With a final pat, he retreats up the stairs and Sal is left alone.
Sal slowly gets up and stumbles to his room, gently shutting the door and sliding down to the floor behind it. All his air is gone, and he is choking on held-back tears. He rips his mask off and throws it across the floor. He buries his head in his knees, pulled tightly against his chest, and sobs for the first time in a long, long time.
Not for the first time, and definitely not the last, Sal misses his mom.
Sal’s phone buzzes on the wooden end table next to his bed, and Sal instantly knows who it is, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up and pick up the phone. He doesn’t even know what he would say if anything at all. The fact that Travis was calling, as if a phantom in his room, was at least a small comfort.
Sal sat against his door, tears falling from his eyes endlessly, for an undetermined amount of time before his back and legs ached enough for him to crawl onto his bed. When he checked his phone, it was now late evening, hours have passed since the argument with Larry. It was all very new for them. They used to be as thick as thieves and understood each other enough when to back off before one of them could get upset. They never had yelled at each other like that; Sal wasn’t even sure he ever heard Larry yell. He could talk to Larry, but he wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t fire Larry up again. And he certainly wasn’t breaking up with Travis. Speaking of, Sal thought.
His phone told him he had 3 missed calls from Travis. Sal pondered calling him, explaining everything that happened but decided against it. Travis would end up blaming himself, and Sal honestly didn’t know if he had the energy to console him. So Sal decides to try and sleep but ends up tossing and turning and gave up not even 30 minutes later. When the sun had finally set, Sal finds his mask, thankfully nothing was broken, and sneaked outside to the front porch, staring out at the stars.
Sal circles back to thinking of Travis again, always, and realizes he’s sitting in a very similar scenario once again. He thinks of that night again, both of them gazing out at the shining night sky, sitting so close their knee’s touched. He remembers the way Travis stuttered his way into telling Sal his feelings, about how even though his voice wavered, his eyes never left Sal’s. It was probably the bravest thing Travis had ever done, considering his background. Sal hadn’t realized how he felt back then, so he gently talked Travis down. Sal remembered how his eyes broke but a small smile was on his lips as if he knew exactly what Sal was going to say before Sal knew himself. The bravest thing.
Sal heard the door open behind him and he was so immersed in his thoughts of that night that he almost expected Travis to appear from the doorway. It was not. Larry had a grim look on his face, but he kept silent as he closed the door and plopped next to Sal, his gaze sternly on the stars above. Sal stared wide-eyed at his profile, wondering if Larry was expecting Sal to beg for his forgiveness or announce that he would break up with Travis. Not liking either option, Sal moved his attention back to the sky. They sat there for a long time, compassable but tense silence between them. Finally, Larry heaved a great long sigh and hung his head.
“I’m sorry, Sal. I was just so worried about you, ya know? I was scared you were starting to push us all away, and I didn’t want to lose my best friend or my brother. And then you said that the reason behind it all was fucking Travis Phelps and all those memories from back in school came rushing back. I love you, man. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
Sal’s throat closes up as he listens to Larry’s speech and realizes that maybe he hadn’t been the greatest person out of all of this too.
“I’m sorry, too. I should have told you, all of you, from the very beginning. I know you’re just looking out for me.”
Sal reaches out and grabs Larry’s shoulder, turning to fully face him.
“Larry, I swear, Travis has changed. He would never, ever, hurt me. And if he ever does, you’ll be the first to know. Promise,” Sal says, trying to push as much earnestness into his voice as he can.
Larry looks deep into his eyes, searching for any sort of lie. At last, he nods solemnly and Sal turns back to the stars. They sit in an easier silence now for a long moment. Sal’s mind almost drifts again before Larry speaks up.
“Well, is the sex at least good?”
“Ugh, Larry, gross!” Sal exclaims, blushing deep behind his mask. Larry playfully punches his arm, laughing infectiously. Sal finally feels comfortable again, after a year of always looking behind his back. Without hesitation, Sal reached behind his head and unclips his mask, the cool night air kissing his scared face. When Sal glances over, Larry is smiling at him proudly, but before Sal can say anything Larry slings his long arm over Sal’s shoulders and announces that he was in need of celebration with an order of their favorite Chinese takeout. The group sits around the dinner table laughing and gouging Sal for details on all the things they’ve missed over the years, munching hungrily on food and playfully kicking each other under the table.
When Sal finally retires for bed, he grabs his phone and sends a quick text to Travis.
TO TRAVIS:
>Sry for missed calls. Everything worked out great.
TO SALLYFACE:
>Really?! I’m glad
>Thought they would totally hate me
TO TRAVIS:
>Na, they’re cool about it.
>They want to meet you.
TO SALLYFACE:
>Oh God
>Now I’m going to be up all night thinking about getting the shovel talk from Larry
TO TRAVIS:
>sry not sry
>anyway, I’m whipped, gonna head to bed. Luv yuh
TO SALLYFACE:
>Goodnight! <333
Sal smiled fondly at the text for an embarrassingly long amount of time before finally setting his phone down and rolling over to sleep, Gizmo curled up at his feet.
Yeah, I think everything worked out just fine.