Chapter Text
It was early November; the crisp air had made itself present in Nockfell by now as the town was far up north and winter usually arrived quicker.
Travis was sitting down at the table for breakfast while he stared out the window that had started to fog up as he thought to himself. He could not afford to speak up about his beliefs (rather lack thereof) in an environment that remained constantly hostile, nor would he speak up after the events of the previous days.
He remembered it vividly. Perhaps not the exact words spoken during the arguments, but he remembered every sensation. The pain, the anger, the frustration and Kenneth’s hands on him. He had Travis against the wall with one hand around Travis’ throat and the other coming down in repeated blows to his face and stomach.
A week had merely passed since that event, and it did not sit right with Travis that suddenly nothing else was spoken between his father and him. No sermons on how he had offended his faith by simply asking questions, no arguments over exactly why Travis 'suddenly' stopped going to Sunday school, not even arguments about him being too vulnerable, about him not being able to be disciplined without shedding tears.
Nothing.
Yet, despite the silence, Kenneth remained in control. He knew his children would not dare to speak up to him. Especially not Travis after he had left him with a gnarly bruise on his left eye.
The phone ringing broke the silence suddenly. Kenneth immediately got up from the table to answer it. His tone, from where Travis could listen from the table, did not seem to be polite as it usually was when answering calls and queries from mostly the church community.
“She has what now?”, Kenneth whispered, rather agitated “No, no it can be,”
…
Maddie, Travis’ older sister sighed, seemingly relieved at her father’s absence from the table ag the very least. “I swear to God, I can’t stand him.” Maddie always had a temper to her, she was the firstborn of the family, born while her parents were not quite ready to have children, not that there way particularly stable throughout their entire marriage, but they seemed to have the most trouble by the time Madeleine was born. “Well, he is quite busy, running the ministry and all.” Replied Mary, the youngest, as she cut up her food. She was pretty much the opposite of Maddie, she always listened and was quieter, while she still had a temper of her own at times, she hardly spoke back
…
Kenneth grunted, running a hand through his dark blond hair. “…Now I have to go out and fix up her messes,” he paused, looking back at the dinner table for a second, “We cannot go around grabbin’ more attention to us like that.” Shortly after, he hung up and headed towards the front entrance. As he reached the table, he stopped for a second, not even looking at either of his children. “I have work to do at the ministry, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be gone until night.” Without another word, he left. The air felt lighter, easier to breathe with some of the tension gone; chatter soon started between the sisters as they finished their breakfast. Maddie was the first to go out because she had to drive to college. Travis left the table soon after he finished probably less than half of his plate, dragging himself to his bedroom to change. He was not in much of a rush as the walk to school was merely 10 minutes from their house.
For the old-style, rather large house that they lived in, Travis’ room was rather modest. His twin-sized bed was at the centre of the room with white sheets, slightly wrinkled, and a large cross hung up right above his bed. As for decoration, there was not much, a few trinkets here and there, but nothing much more other than a wooden closet adorned at the edges and a bedside table with a small pile of books atop of it.
Travis opened his closet, took his clothes, and began to get dressed. His whole body still ached despite it being a week since Kenneth had beat him. The pain only became stronger as Travis slung his messenger bag across his shoulder, as the strap pressed directly into a bruise on his shoulder. He ignored the pain, for now, and glanced to the alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. 7:45 already. He hurried out and began walking to school.
It was calm. Quiet. Not many people were out other than a few driving around, others sitting outside while drinking some hot drink. Most of the leaves had fallen down by this time of year, leaving most of the trees bare save for a few pine trees. As Travis neared the school, though, others’ voices grew in volume as multiple people waited for the school’s gates to open.
As always, there was the one who caught his eye, always.
Somewhat long blue hair tied up into pigtails with bangs that were cut unevenly, a ‘mask’ covering his face leaving little to imagine about expressions. Sal was aside from the crowd, speaking to his group of friends.
“Shit. You think Mrs. Packerton will notice?” Larry scribbled into his math book frantically, copying off Sal’s book. “Don’t blame me if she gets mad at you- seriously, you had an entire week for the homework.”
The bell rang, indicating the start of school; all the students rushed inside like a stampede of wild animals.
Travis looked away quickly, rushing to get to class. He didn’t understand why he felt this way, like something was eating away at his stomach—not from hunger this time, at least. Everytime he glanced at Sal. And everytime he felt that familiar flutter in his stomach, his heart immediately clenched. God what was he thinking? Being with a boy? It just wasn’t meant to be, he’d be killed!
At last, Travis got to his locker, putting most of his books away and taking his math book for the first two periods. Luck didn’t seem to be with Travis this morning, however. As soon as he walked into the classroom he was greeted by the entire room rearranged, that including being assigned a new seat-mate. Sal. He would be sitting next to Sal Fisher for the remaining time of the trimester.
There wasn’t much time for whining, as class began in less that 4 minutes.
Sal walked in shortly after, he stood outside a while longer talking with Larry and Todd, as they didn’t share their first few classes together. He glanced quickly at the board and sat down next to Travis.
The latter looked to the opposite side while holding onto his sweater’s sleaves nervously. He never acted this way, dammit!
...
“...You now have 25 minutes to finish your exam.”
Mrs. Packerton said from her desk. Sal was near finished, feeling slightly lightheaded he decided to rest his eyes for a second. He had a new prescription for his sleep pills recently, surely it wouldn’t take long to adapt to those again...
...
Travis paid no mind to the questions on the back of the exam paper on the last few minutes the class had left. He noticed Sal had finished a while ago, though his head was now resting against the desk. “Eyes on your own paper Mr. Phelps.” The voice of Mrs. Packerton managed to wake up Sal quite easily (no big surprise, really, he had always been a light sleeper) and realised he had been asleep for what? 5? 10? Minutes already.
“Sorry about that Miss...”, Sal apologised as he turned in his paper, awkwardly walking back to his desk. Travis sighed audibly when the time ran out.
●♥︎ ♣︎ ♥︎●
“I swear I’m so done with Mrs. Packerton,” Larry proceeded to complain as the group made its way to the lunch room, “she can’t teach!”, “C’mon, dude, she isn’t that bad of a teacher.” Replied Sal, looking up to meet Larry’s eyes.
“Lighten up a little. Its Friday!” Ash sat down at their usual spot in the lunch room. It sure as hell was a terrible week full of exams, but they’d at least be going home soon.
“I’d be happy if they weren’t serving that.” Larry pointed at the bologna sandwiches the school was offering.
“You know what happened last week? Two kids got sick last Friday after eating the sandwiches,” Todd spoke up suddenly, “They haven’t been back to school...”
A discussion, mostly between Larry and Todd, began about the possible origin of the meat. Larry said it could be expired goat meat, Todd went on about it being possibly contaminated. “Shut up already– you’re going to make me sick.” Sal pushed up his prosthetic slightly, just enough to push a packet of apple sauce below it.
Larry leaned across the table slightly, ‘whispering’ to Sal, “Hey man, look behind you.” He sat back down and followed Sal’s gaze to a few tables behing theirs. An empty table, save for a few people at the very edge of it, and Travis at the other end of it eating like a starved dog.
Although Sal was still skeptical of the whole ‘rotten goat meat’ theory Larry had put up, he did admit the meat was rather weirdly textured. Seeing someone eating it with such desperation, despite knowing what it had costed other students added to the feeling of uneasiness around the meat.
“...It’s just a suggestion, but we can look into the meat more... if we could get a sample of it.” Todd, Larry and Ash had continued to discuss for a couple of minutes, sure they had plenty of time in lunch break, but how the hell would they get a piece of bologna that hadn’t been touch or tampered with?
The group decided to leave the matter until next week, as they didn’t have proof that was solid enough, the two kids that got sick could have been a coincidence... and because they had to come up with ways get the bologna.
Larry, Sal, and Ash went of to the school yard for some fresh air they very much needed after being stuffed in the lunch room for almost 30 minutes.
“I’ve just had the worst test in my life, I really don’t know how you can handle it first thing in the morning...” Larry sighed, tugging his hoodie closer to himself. “I don’t mind it. Other than the new sitting plan its fine, really.”
Sal didn’t even have the best image of Travis to begin with. Last week they had gotten into a petty argument after bumping into each other at breaktime. Sal mentioned Travis’ father once and the latter snapped. The blow was quite strong, and Sally’s prosthetic made it worse. The prosthetic hit his nose, what was left of it at least, and had caused him to start bleeding.
"You kiss your daddy with that mouth, Trav–" Travis' fist immediately came down, sending Sal back a step or two. "Shut up! God just shut up!" The blond cried out. He panted heavily and looked back at Sal, his hands dropped to his sides. Before the latter could even turn around to face him, Travis was gone. He ran away like a coward.
...
"Dude don't tell me you're defending him now. After the way he's treated you, us?"
Larry's words were still present in his head. He would never excuse Travis for what he had done, why would he?
"What? I‐ I'm not defending him. Just..." Sal sighed, adjusting his prosthetic. "I don't know man. Just take it easy on him, we all know how his dad is..."
Of course, Sal would never know Travis personally, at least it wasn't likely to happen at all. But pretty much everyone in Nockfell knew Kenneth. The Phelps ministry was the only church in the entire town, it was no wonder practically everyone went to the ministry on Sundays.
Sal had only attended mass, what, once,
twice? For what he could see, Kenneth always seemed indeferent to the world around him. He barely interacted with others despite supposedly preaching about “love thy neighbour as yourself” every other week. He couldn’t imagine how he was behind closed doors.
“...Sal? You sure you’re ok?”, Ash asked, standing in front of Sal and waving her hand in front of his face. “Yeah... just thinking.” The bell rang a few minutes after.
“What do you have now, anyway?”, Larry asked Sal on their way inside. “You’re not going to believe me if I tell you...”, “C’mon, I’ curious.” Ash, Sal, and Larry reached their lockers, conveniently near each other. “Religious studies...” Both Larry and Ash bursted out laughing “You have to be joking.” Ash said between laughs. “I might have forgotten to pick my humanities options before coming back after summer...” Sal sighed. He didn’t mind learning anything new, of course not. What he knew he would despise was the teachers constantly labeling Christianity— because, really, there was no way in God’s green earth they’d teach any other religion—as the only truth and that “us sinners must repent and turn to Jesus” or something along those lines.
This would make for a great trimester, wouldn’t it?