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“Another group project?” Larry asked. “Seriously?” He stuck out his tongue and shook his head.
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal,” Sal replied.
“Except that everyone in this school hates doing their work. One person’s gonna have to do all of it,” Ashley added. She was standing by the water fountain with Todd, who was drinking from it, and once he finished he wiped his mouth and turned to look at the other two.
“It’s only a two-person project. It can't seriously be that miserable,” he said.
Larry lifted his hand. “Todd, you’re my partner.”
“No fucking way!” Todd waved his hands around. “You never do any of the work!”
“Fine. Ash?”
Ashley rolled her eyes. “We’ll most likely get a bad grade, but it’s whatever. I think most of the grade counts for participation anyways. As long as we do something I’m sure we’ll at least get a C.”
“That’s the spirit,” Larry cheered as he put an arm around her.
“Awh,” Sal whined. “You’re not gonna ask me, Larry?”
“Nope. I’ve known you long enough, dude. You’ll do like, half the work, sure, but the day presenting comes, you’re gonna fake being sick and leave me to do it. You’ll make me look like a god damn idiot.”
“Oh, come on.” Sal tilted his head to the side and his low-hanging pigtails fell with. “I promise to never do that again.”
Larry scowled. “That’s what you said the last three times.”
“I was actually sick the last time! I probably caught it from Lisa.”
“It’s a no from me,” Larry finalized. Ashley quietly laughed at the two of them.
Sal turned. “Todd—?”
He was already messaging Neil. “No.”
Sal threw his arms in the air. “Then who am I gonna be with? Some rando from the class?”
“You could always be with Chug,” Ashley suggested. “Or Maple.”
Larry looked at his shoes. “Pretty sure Chug and Maple are gonna be with each other.”
Ashley sighed. “Okay, then. Yes. You’re gonna have to be with some rando from the class.”
“Fuuuuck.” Sal put his hands in his hair. He would’ve rubbed his face tiredly, but he figured there would be no point over the plastic.
“It’s just a chance to meet new people, Sal,” Todd tried to placate. “And I know that’s not really your thing—I mean, no one actually likes meeting new people, especially in high school—but that’s how you met us, right? Putting yourself out there.” He gestured to Larry. “Meeting people who knew other people?”
“I’m not gonna ‘meet someone new’, Todd. I’ll just pick someone I vaguely know. Someone I see in the hallways a lot or something”
“You should pick Travis,” Larry joked. Ashley punched him in the balls and he keeled over in pain with a groan.
Sal understood that Ashley was punching Larry for even mentioning Travis in the first place, but Sal would’ve punched him for an entirely different reason. It had only been about two weeks since he and Travis’s conversation in the bathroom. It was the first and only time Sal had ever heard Travis cry, or even be remotely vulnerable. Ever since then, he and Travis hadn’t spoken. Travis always had his eyes glued to his paper during class no matter how long Sal would stare to try and get his attention. But wherever Sal would look back at his own paper, he would swear that Travis would give occasional glances in his direction. Sal hadn’t told the other three any of this yet.
“You’ll find someone eventually,” Ashley said. “It’s not even that big of a deal anyway. Once you finish the project, whoever you’re with will never speak to you again, and you’ll never speak to them, and you’ll go your separate ways. Sounds nice?”
“Sounds nice,” Sal agreed. “I should probably look for a partner during lunch, then.”
“Probably.” Todd nodded.
“Can I be honest? I wasn’t paying attention during class,” Larry admitted. “I have no idea what the project’s even about.”
“Historical movements,” Ashley sighed. “We can choose whichever one to report about. There’s a copy of the list of what we learned in the classroom.”
“Oh… I–”
“I know you wouldn’t have looked at it. That’s why I grabbed an extra.” She took a folded paper out of her pocket and gave it to the bashful looking Larry. “Even if I had no idea we were going to be partners at the time I didn’t want to leave you in the hands of someone who wouldn’t be as prepared as me or Todd without having something for you.”
“I’m not that much of a handful,” Larry grumbled.
“Of course not. You’re worse.” Ashley and Larry stuck their tongues out at each other at the same time, then burst into a fit of giggles at the coincidence.
As the two continued to converse to themselves, Todd came up behind Sal, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Got an idea for who you might pick?”
“You know what, Todd?” Sal fixed his mask. “I just might.”
. // ꩜ // .
Lunch eventually rolled around as it always did. Sal held a sandwich in one hand and held onto his busted up bag in the other. Instead of sitting down with his friends like he did every day, he instead walked past their table and to the end of the cafeteria by the counter where food was being served. There, he saw Travis, sitting alone and poking his food with his finger. He looked… detested. He didn’t seem to notice Sal walking right up to him.
“Travis?” Sal had to tap the table to get his attention. Travis’s head flew up and he shrieked.
“W–What do you want?!” he shouted.
“Woah, man. Chill. I just wanted to talk to you.”
Sal noticed the way Travis’s face contorted into discomfort, the way his cheeks flushed, the way his hands tried to sneak up to cover his face like he was afraid. But his expression read as angry. “What is there to talk about, Sally Face? We already said everything we needed to say to each other in the bathroom that day.”
“Oh. That’s not–” Sal waved his own words away and shook his head. “It’s about the group project in class.”
Travis’s shoulders relaxed a little. “...Ah.”
“Yeah.” Sal sat himself down and took a bite of his sandwich by lifting his mask just enough to not be seen, but to get a decent bite. Travis grimaced. “I need a partner,” Sal continued.
“Couldn’t get someone from the Queer Quartet to ask you?” Travis replied snarkily, but seeing the way Sal eyed him through his mask, he softened slightly. Not cowering, just realizing. “Uh… sorry. I won’t say that.”
“You better not.” Sal took another bite of his sandwich. Damn. Travis’s internalized homophobia was still in the room with them, apparently. Sal didn’t blame him. It’s a hard thing to get over. But he would always defend his friends if need be. “Well? Do you want to be my partner or not?”
Travis sighed and bit down on his teeth. “If I must.” He went back to poking his food.
Sal took this behavior into note. Travis looked… Well, not the best. He looked very tired and a little bit gaunt. His movements were slow. The bruise on his eye had begun to heal up, but was replaced with many others down his body. He looked like an apple with a soft spot.
“Your bruise is getting better,” Sal remarked, not wanting to bring up anything else on his clearly beaten body right now. “The one on your eye, I mean.”
“Yeah. Bruises do that.” Travis pushed his hardly-touched lunch tray away.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
“No,” Travis lied.
Sal offered up his sandwich. It had only been bitten twice. There was still a large portion of it that remained uneaten. “Here.”
Travis scoffed. “Ew! I’m not a degenerate. Your mouth’s been on that, weirdo.”
“Travis, I’m serious. I have a full lunch bag from home in my backpack. If you hate the school lunch so bad, take some of my food. I don’t mind. I promise.” Sal continued to hold out his hand, even as Travis looked at him like he was an insane person. Sal did eventually speak again. His eyes were almost pleading. “Please, man. Eat something. It doesn’t have to be the whole thing. It can just be a bite. It’s just… You really don’t look good.”
“Just because we had a little sentimental heart-to-heart in the bathroom doesn’t mean we’re gonna start making out anytime soon, Sally Face. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“That’s absolutely not what this is about. I want to be your friend. I thought you wanted to be mine too.”
Sal knew part of that was a lie. He could speak for himself and say that he wanted to be friends with Travis—that much was true—but he also thought about that discarded love letter every single day. The day he found it, he carried it home with him, knowing he wanted to do something with it, but he wasn’t sure what. So it sat on his desk, and every day after school he would come home and stare at it and think, ‘What am I gonna do with this?’, and then he’d take a nap and forget about it.
But he didn’t want to forget about it this time. He knew Travis didn’t want to just be “pals” with him. But Travis still clearly wasn't ready to ask those things about himself again, and Sal didn’t want to make him. It’s a scary thing to think about, especially living in an environment like Travis’s, where one wrong move gets you beaten.
“I do,” Travis mumbled.
“Then why are you acting so closed off? I’ve seen you before, Travis. I’ve seen you when you were crying and ugly and ashamed. And I understand your thought process now. Or, at least I like to think I do. So what’s the big idea?”
Travis’s face changed. It went from looking angry to simply looking exhausted. He inhaled, took Sal’s sandwich, bit into it, and leaned against the wall. “Home life hasn’t been the best.”
“Yeah? I wouldn’t think so. You’re pretty brave, you know.”
Travis’s eyes hardened again. “Don’t patronize me, Sally Face.”
“I’m not. Just pointing out what I notice.”
Travis silently chewed the sandwich. It was a peanut butter and jelly that Sal had made himself that morning. His dad used to help him make his lunches, but since the whole… thing, he spent most all day sleeping or sitting doing work, meaning Sal had been making food for himself since the age of eight. Even if his home-life was pretty broken, it was still much better than some other kids’ he knew. Travis, for example.
“Say,” Sal began, taking out a granola bar from his paper lunch bag. “You wanna come over after school? We can start brainstorming ideas for the project. We can just do something simple like a poster you open up or something.”
Travis’s eyes lit up just a little. “You’re inviting me over?”
“Sure. I invite all my friends over at some point.” His head lowered. “Plus, I… think you should get out of your house for a bit. Or wherever you live. It’ll be good for you.”
“...Right.” Travis tapped his fingers together. His mouth tasted like metal. He didn’t know why. But the sandwich was helping to wash it out. The bread was a little crunchy, which felt nice on his teeth. “Um, sure, then. I’ll come over.”
Sal smiled, but Travis couldn’t actually see it. “Right on.” He reached into his backpack, tore out a small piece of paper from his notebook, then wrote down his address on it:
addison apartments, 402. c u there travis.
Travis cracked the smallest smile at the note. “Thanks.”
“Sure. I’ll see you, then.” Sal stood up, reached into his bag, and pulled out a baggy filled with Goldfish. He tossed it over to Travis as another gift. Without another word, he left back to his table to sit down. Travis wasn’t going to eat the Goldfish, but he took them anyway, and almost chuckled down at the bag.
“Moron,” he mumbled, forcing his frown.
. // ꩜ // .
Sal sat on his bed playing his Gear Boy. The green light of the console lit up his face. Since school had just ended, Sal finally had a chance to change out of the clothes he wore in public and back into his pajamas. His bright blue hair was down and his prosthetic face sat beside him. He never wore it when he was alone or with his dad.
That was something Sal enjoyed about being alone; the privacy. Usually he tried to spend as much time as possible with his friends, but sometimes constantly wearing plastic got really annoying. Being able to spend time playing video games was nice. However, he was learning the new controls to his Gear Boy, since Todd had recently modded the console to speak with apparitions. Now the controls were all switched around, and Sal had to completely relearn his muscle memory so he wouldn’t accidentally summon some old guy in the bathroom.
It was then when he heard a knock at the door.
“Coming, Larry,” Sal shouted. Larry sometimes came over right after school like this when he wanted to chat. It was easy to do this since they lived right next to each other. Sal grabbed his prosthetic, turned off his Gear Boy, and headed over to the door. He lazily began to buckle his mask back on when he opened the door. It was about half-way on his face when the door was fully opened.
“Hey, Larry. What’s up?”
But it wasn’t Larry. It was Travis. He stood awkwardly with the crumpled-up paper Sal had given him in one hand. Sal jumped and rushed to fully put his mask on. He had to turn away from Travis to do this.
“Shit–Don’t look! I’m so sorry.”
Travis averted his eyes. He only saw a glance of Sal’s chin, but seeing how scarred it was and how deformed the bit of lip that showed had become, he became a bit shocked. All Travis could think was: what the hell had happened to him?
Sal tightened the last buckle and stood up straight. “Travis,” he said. “Um, hi. Jesus, you wasted no time getting here, did you?”
Travis shrugged. “Didn’t wanna go home, I guess.”
“I get that. Come on in.”
Sal backed up so Travis could enter. The blonde boy looked very… surprised at everything. Almost like it was his first time entering a house. His eyes dove to the decorations, the furniture, and then the photos on the walls.
“So you, like, live here?” His eyes met a photo of Sal and his father. It had been taken recently, when they’d moved in just a few years ago. Sal wore his mask while Henry smiled sadly. The two held each other in a hug and leaned on each other as they looked directly at the camera. Travis thought of him and his own father for a second. “...Huh.”
“Yeah. Me and my dad. We both like it here. The community’s nice, the scenery’s nice, we have access to a good school, and most of my best friends are just a floor away. It’s all I could ask for, really.”
Travis frowned, but his back was turned so Sal couldn’t see him. “You’re lucky you’ve got so many people who like you, Sally Face.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Sal scratched his neck. “Um, anyways… Do we wanna go to my room to start, you know, working on the project?”
“Oh… Right. That. Yes, let’s go.”
The two of them entered Sal’s room and he closed the door. The room was kind of messy… Mostly because he hadn’t been expecting company this morning and didn’t have time to clean it fully after getting home. He had to pick up some of his clothes and put them in his laundry basket. The room smelled like incense, and faintly of cologne.
The lingering smell of incense reminded Travis of home. Of the rituals. He put a hand over his nose. Sal immediately noticed.
“Oh. Sorry about the smell, I know some people don’t, y’know, enjoy incense. I just wasn’t really preparing to have anyone over.” He continued to pick up his small mess.
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Travis argued. “I’m not that sensitive. Guess it’s just… My dad burns incense a lot. And I gotta smell it all the time, when I’m being screamed at or hit. I kind of just associate the smell with my own mistakes now.”
“Olfactory memory?” Sal asked.
Travis’s face scrunched. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Olfactory memory. It’s a phenomenon where you associate certain smells to past events. It’s actually really common. I get it all the time when I smell metal. Reminds me of when I lost my face. Had to smell my own blood for hours, hah.”
A sound came from Travis. Something between a groan and a growl. He stood so tensely and still. He was only moving his eyes.
“You can walk around, you know,” Sal beckoned.
Travis sputtered, “I–I know that! Don’t… don’t order me around.” He finally took a few steps forward. He hugged his arms. He took note of the posters on the wall, the photos and pills throughout the room, even the sleeping cat in the corner. One thing that caught his eye though was a crumpled-up piece of paper. It looked all too familiar. Travis’s chest tightened. He didn’t actually still have it, did he?
He grabbed the note and unfolded it while Sal was getting food for Gizmo. He read, “I know we don’t really know each other” before he had to crumple the paper back up again. He turned to Sal. His cheeks were red. “Why do you have this?!” He gripped the paper in his hand.
“Oh.” Sal sighed. “I dunno. I just… I’m figuring out what I want to do with it.”
“Throw it away!” Travis cried. “Burn it! Why do you… What made you want to…” Travis couldn’t find his words. His throat was tight and aching. He really didn’t want to cry right now. “You’re a creep, Sally Face!”
“Hey, you’re the one who wrote the damn thing. Leave me be. It reminds me of our conversation a couple weeks ago. I don’t want to just throw something like that out, okay? It’s important to me. Get off my ass.” Sal walked over to his bed and sat at the edge of it. He left room for Travis, but Travis didn't sit.
He looked angry. He always looked angry, but especially now. He once again unfolded the paper and grabbed the top of it. Sal tried to shout, “Stop!” but it was too late. Travis tore the paper in two, then four, then dropped the pieces to the ground and stomped on them, tearing them even further.
Sal got up and shoved Travis out of the way. He grabbed the torn pieces and looked them over. He read the words “swallows me whole” and “opinions of” on two different pieces. He took a breath. “What the hell is your problem, man?!”
Travis had turned away at this point. His back was to Sal. He said nothing.
“If you didn’t want to see it,” Sal continued, “Just leave it be or–or hide it somewhere you wouldn’t be able to see it! Why would you ruin it, Travis?!” His voice softened sadly. “Why would you ruin it?”
“Why are you so adamant on keeping it?!” Travis retorted. “It’s weird! You’re weird! I bet you fall asleep with it in your arms, thinking of how badly you proved me wrong, you sick homo! It means nothing anyway. Why didn’t you just throw it away?!”
From behind the mask, Travis saw Sal’s eyes get glossy. “Because this note was proof to me that I’m still worth loving! Even when I look like… this.” He gestured to his prosthetic face. He took the pieces and spread them across his bed. He opened a nearby drawer and took out a roll of clear tape. He started to piece the note back together like a puzzle. “Damn it, man…” he whispered to himself.
Travis didn’t really know how to reply to that. Telling Sal that he didn’t actually mean anything in the note would not only cause Sal to most likely detest him forever, but it would also be an obvious lie. But admitting he didn’t want Sal to have the note because it reminded him of his vulnerability, reminded him that God despises him, would be the most painful thing in the world. So instead, he said,
“You are worth loving, you dick. That’s why I… You…” he shook his head. “You have so many friends. So many people who understand you. So many outlets that you can turn to if you’re not having a good day, or if something bad’s happening at home, or if you just hate yourself. And… And I don’t. Because God despises those kinds of people, Sal. God gives us these challenges because He knows we should be able to handle them on our own. So if I ask for help, I’m… basically cheating my way out of my punishments. The ones He gives me because He needs me to fix them myself. Because I have done something wrong. And when I wrote that note, it was because I had seen the way you lift so many people up, and I thought”—Tears were beginning to run down his face, and he choked—“I thought, hey, maybe if I told him how I felt, he would be able to help me too. Maybe God would forgive me if I asked for help, just this once, and never again. And, Christ, maybe Sal and I could even work! But that in itself is another massive sin.”
He wiped his eyes and breathed shakily. “Sal. You tempt me in so many ways. So many terrifying, evil ways… And I fucking hate you for it. But every night when I’m alone, when I pray to God, I think of you, and it makes my heart all fuzzy and… Damn you, Sally Face!” he screamed. “I wish I was normal! But you make that so hard! Every time I look at you, I want to kiss you, and so I have to pray it away, and it never works because God needs me to fix this myself. Because choosing to love you was a stupid decision and I regret it every single day.” His voice broke, and his shaking hands clawed at his cross necklace. “God hates me, Sal Fisher! And I… completely deserve it!”
Sal stared at him in pure disbelief. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard Travis cry, but it was the first time he was seeing it. And that was much different. He looked down at the torn up note in his hand. “Wow. You are mega fucked up, man.”
“I know!” Travis clutched his head. He took a deep, sniffling breath, and blinked away his tears. His throat was sore from holding it in. Sal opened his arms.
“Hey. You’re alright. Come here, dude.”
Travis hesitated. God made me to do hard things, he thought. That’s what his dad always told him. But Sal’s eyes looked at him so gently, and he felt like his legs were going to give out on him any second now. His hand finally released his necklace. He stepped forward until he was right in front of Sal, sitting on the bed. And he hugged him. Tightly.
“There you go,” Sal comforted. He let Travis sit beside him. Travis buried his face in Sal’s shoulder and Sal rubbed his back. “You’re not at home right now, okay? You will never be hurt for the way you think. I promise.”
He felt the way Travis would jerk lightly every sob. His fingers tangled in Travis’s hair. He chewed on everything Travis had said to him, including the note. He knew the guy liked him from the note—that was very obvious—but he had no idea how important he was to him. How he was not only the bane of Travis’s existence, the main reason he felt so strongly about repenting all the time, but he was also the person Travis admired the most.
He had no idea what to make of that. He’d been friends with Larry for a while now, and being as close as they were, genuinely considered each other to be brothers. But Sal never felt the need to cry at night over the fear of getting too close to Larry, nor did Larry about him, because they were already as close as they could get. Larry had seen him without his mask and he wasn’t afraid. Sal had seen Larry at his worst and wasn't at all repulsed. But that’s probably because they weren’t in love with each other.
Travis was a different story. Sal had ever felt loved in a romantic way like this. He had felt romantic love in the past, but had never acted on it, because he knew with the way he looked under his mask, no girl would ever want to go out with him. But Travis? It was all he wanted to do. And it made Travis feel sinful and unloved. It broke Sal’s heart.
“If your God can’t love you like this,” Sal said, “then He doesn’t deserve you at all. Feeling emotions, experiencing new kinds of love, it’s what makes us human. And you deserve that opportunity just as much as anyone else.”
Travis sniffled. “What do I even do? If my dad finds out I’m still feeling this way, even after praying so hard and being so good for God, he’ll punch me. Or kick me. Or I won’t get dinner again. I can’t learn from my mistakes. Why can’t I just like girls?!”
“Because you’re gay.”
Travis frowned again. “Fuck you, Sally Face.”
“It’s not an insult, Travis. And I think you need to realize that. Being gay is a completely normal thing. It’s a wonderful thing. It’s the same as being left-handed. Some people are left-handed, and some people are right-handed, and some people are ambidextrous. But either way, all three of those people are equal, because it’s something completely natural. Gay people and straight people are both right in their own ways, because romantic attraction doesn’t have a right and wrong answer. You’re not sinning if you're feeling a certain way. And if that’s what your dad is trying to teach you, then frankly, he can fuck off.”
The two fell silent for a brief moment. Travis’s heart skipped a beat. Sal leaned his head on Travis’s. Travis had never heard anyone tell off his dad like that before. Mostly because his dad had extremely high authority, and he was also surrounded by homophobes his entire life.
“Sal,” Travis asked, “are you gay?”
That was a question Sal actually hadn’t thought about in detail, even when he should’ve. “Maybe,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never fallen in love with a guy, but then again, I don’t think there were any guys to fall in love with. All the guys at our school are jerks.” Another long pause as Sal gathered his thoughts. “I like both girls and boys, I think.”
That was exactly what Travis wanted to hear. He really did have a chance at love. He didn’t lift his face from Sal’s shoulder, he only looked up slightly. “I’m sorry I got so upset. I shouldn’t have ripped up the note.”
“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for that.”
“It’s okay.” Travis sniffled. He was exhausted. Every time he cried, he got exhausted like this, because it used up so much of the energy he didn’t have in the first place because he wasn’t properly nourished. He relaxed into Sal and stared at both their hands. He decided to make a risky decision: he took one of Sal’s hands in his own. He had never made a move like this before and he was terrified.
But after a second or two, Sal reciprocated the motion by taking Travis’s other hand as well, and running his thumb over the skin. Travis got butterflies. He felt so disgusted in himself, but… Lord forgive him, he actually felt safe.
“I really like you, Sal,” he said.
Sal chuckled quietly. “No way. I never would’ve guessed.”
Travis smiled, just a bit. His grip on Sal’s hands tightened, and for a moment, Sal squeezed him back, just to let him know that he was here.
Sal put his head back against the headboard of his bed. He looked up at his ceiling. He could see Travis’s blonde hair out of the corner of his eye. Travis was taller than he was, but somehow fit perfectly well in his arms when being hugged like this. He felt the buckles of his mask gently pushing into the back of his head. Then he got a stupid thought: Take it off.
He swallowed. He shouldn’t take off the mask in front of Travis. He was hideous after what the dog man had done to him. It was the leading reason he was never the one people had a crush on. If he showed Travis, would all those feelings of love dissipate?
“If I do something stupid right now, do you promise not to freak out?” Sal asked.
Travis lifted his head for the first time that whole conversation. “What?”
“I want to take off my mask. I… think you deserve to know what I look like.”
Travis paused. He backed out of the hug, giving Sal his space, but he leaned forward and placed his hands in a prayer-like motion on his lips in concentration. Sal almost laughed at the reaction.
“Okay. Just please don’t, um… run away, or scream or anything. It’s… it’s bad, Travis. I just want you to be prepared.”
Sal slipped his fingers behind his mask and began to unbuckle it. He felt incredibly nervous. Once the final buckle had been undone, he slowly slipped the mask off. His face was incredibly deformed. The entire left side of it was destroyed, and the lip on that side had been ruined until there were only teeth left. His eye socket had been torn down the cheek and his eye had been replaced with a glass replica. The rest of the skin on the left side was dried and discolored. It wrinkled, contorted, and was patterned similarly to a Lichtenberg figure. The right side of his face was relatively normal, but the scars had snuck their way over just a bit. His skull on the left side looked almost to have been crushed, but his right skull was practically completely fine.
Travis stared at Sal in awe for a moment. He did have to admit, it was not a pretty face. But he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away, like the rest of his brain was screaming to. His eyes softened and he looked over the blue-haired boy in front of him. “Not… exactly what I was expecting.” His voice quivered slightly.
“It’s alright to be scared,” Sal said. “I don’t really think the human mind is built to look at stuff like this. Since we’re so used to seeing how humans are supposed to look. I’d honestly be worried if you weren’t scared.”
Travis nodded stiffly. “Okay, good. Because I’m terrified.”
That made Sal laugh. The right side of his face smiled and his moving eye closed, while the left side stayed completely still. It was a very strange, uncanny sight. Travis crawled a bit closer to watch him giggle. Sal’s eye opened eventually and made eye contact with him. His eyes were blue, Travis took into note.
Sal backed up a little. “Hey there,” he said. “Getting a bit close.”
“Oh. Right, sorry.” Travis backed up too.
“No, it’s okay. Look as closely as you want. I don’t mind.”
So Travis got closer again. He had to admit, it was strange hearing Sal’s voice come out of a moving mouth. He was so used to looking over his shoulder, seeing the masked face speaking. It was like Sal could stay anonymous for as long as he liked. But now he’d chosen to willingly reveal himself. What had happened…?
Travis brought his hand up to gently guide Sal’s face. He got a closer look at the left side. “These look almost like burn marks,” he said, “but your skull wouldn’t be so sunken in if it was. Your injuries also seem to all come down to one spot on your cheek as if you were struck with something. Maybe struck with something in front of you. Were you indirectly shot?”
Sal’s eyes widened. “Uh… Yeah. How did–”
“My dad injures a lot of people and I sometimes have to watch,” Travis said quickly. He looked frustrated again. Or closed off. “I’ve seen people die in ways you’d never understand. After a while, you start to notice patterns in how people’s bodies react to certain injuries.”
“...Shit, dude.”
“Yeah.” Travis shook his head. “Don’t want to think about that right now.” He guided Sal’s face to the right and ran his thumb around the remaining scars. “You know, when I’m not focused on the entirely deformed side, you don’t look half bad, Sally Face.”
“Really.” Sal hummed out a short laugh. “Thanks.”
Travis let Sal’s face go. His hands sat on either side of Sal. He was still very close. Sal turned to look at him eye-to-eye. Neither of them knew what to say, or do, so they did nothing. It was one of those mutual comfortable silences. Travis still felt stupid for his vulnerability. His eyes were still a little red.
Sal tilted his head to the side a bit. “Hey.”
Travis turned his attention back to Sal entirely. He tilted his head in the opposite direction. “Hi.” He tried to sound like someone who wasn’t actively losing his mind over this situation. He wasn’t succeeding.
He took into consideration that Sal also looked pretty nervous. His right hand was preoccupied, playing with the fabric of his shirt, while his left hand had come up to hold Travis’s cross necklace. He was poking the top of it with his finger, an absent-minded fidget. How long had his hand been there and Travis hadn’t noticed? “Are you alright?” Travis asked.
“Yeah,” Sal said, even as his heart raced. “Totally alright.”
Travis felt a tug on his neck. Sal had put his finger around the bottom of the necklace and pulled, and suddenly, the two of them were close enough to feel each others’ body heat. It was Sal who initiated the kiss first. Travis immediately reciprocated it.
Sal placed a hand on Travis’s back to pull him closer. There were a couple brushes of lips against lips against Sal’s sunken-in teeth before Travis pulled away. It was more like a quick rip away, like he’d just come to his senses.
“Christ…” He held his head.
Sal reached for him. “You okay?”
“I shouldn’t be–we shouldn’t be doing this, Sal. Oh, gosh. What have I done?” He clutched his necklace like it was the only thing left of him.
Sal had to come closer. He eyed the necklace. He was extremely frustrated with Travis’s faith sometimes. Even before they’d started to speak like normal people to each other, he could tell it was taking a significant toll on the boy’s wellbeing. Sal reached up and took the hand that was clutching the necklace. He made Travis open his hand. “You don’t have to think about that here,” Sal said. He lifted the necklace off of Travis’s head and tucked it away into the pocket of his pajama pants. Out of sight, out of mind. “No one is watching. I promise. It's just you and me.”
Travis put a hand up and argued, “That’s not really how it works. God sees us all no matter what.”
“Then repent after we’re done, or whatever the hell you guys do.”
“T–That’s…” Travis trailed off and rolled his eyes. “Ugh.”
Sal put a hand on Travis’s chest where his necklace usually sat. “But doesn’t it feel so much better having that thing off? Not willingly letting your God watch your every step, not constantly having to think about what you could be doing wrong? You’re just existing.”
It did feel good. It felt freeing. But Travis felt so… sinful. All his life, he’d worked relentlessly to be loved by both his father and by God. And now these feelings of overwhelming love had taken over, and it felt like he’d just lost everything. He kept smelling that damn incense. He couldn’t find it in himself to form a reply.
“Travis?” Sal asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Sally Face.” Travis’s throat was tight.
“Do you want me to put my mask back on?”
“No!” Travis waved his hands back and forth. “No, it’s… I don’t want to stop. I’m just… This is all really new to me, and maybe I don’t want to mess it up.”
“You’re not messing anything up, Travis.” Sal eyed him in a way that seemed to be begging for him to let them continue. It was clear Sal wanted this as much as Travis did. Sal’s pale hand, the nails chipped with black nail polish, came up to Travis’s face. He was sure to avoid the side with more bruises, but even then, Travis winced slightly. “You’re not messing anything up,” he said again, slowly.
He leaned into Sal’s hand. “I know.”
Sal pulled him forward again. This time, however, he looked over Travis like he was asking, ‘is this okay?’ and Travis falling forward until their lips were together again was just the confirmation he needed.
This kiss lasted longer. Travis was clearly nervous—hell, Sal was terrified—and it was awkward and messy at first, but the two of them eventually found a nice rhythm they could both keep up with. It was slow, but not too slow, and it was wonderful. Sal’s hands both cupped Travis’s face. Travis didn’t really know what to do with his hands so he just put his arms around Sal’s neck.
Sal put one of his legs over Travis’s and switched their positions so Travis was pressed against the headboard instead. Travis made a quick noise of surprise, kind of like an ‘oh!’ but Sal continued to kiss him before he could say anything. His hands moved from Travis’s cheeks to his waist. He pulled him down against the bed so Travis had his head against the pillows and Sal rested directly on top of him, legs tangled in Travis’s, hands on his waist, and listening to the occasional small sounds that Travis would make.
Suddenly, the smell of incense wasn't so bad.
It really was just the two of them here. And as silly as it seemed, they were both learning about themselves. Especially Sal. He had no idea that the homophobic, closeted Christian boy would be such a good kisser. And how much he needed to take off that damn prosthetic in front of someone who wasn’t Larry.
Sal’s hands remained on Travis’s waist. His fingers began to sneak beneath Travis’s shirt, and Travis had to pull away from the kiss just to frantically ask, “What are you doing?!”
“Woah, I’m not taking it off,” Sal reassured. “I was just… you know. Feeling around.” He took his hands out of the shirt. “Do you not want me to?”
“Um!” Laughing awkwardly and words full of breath, Travis nodded. “I mean, go ahead! Just, like, be careful. I’m bruised.”
“I know.” Sal frowned. “But it’s okay. I’ll be gentle.” His fingers went back to Travis’s shirt and he began slowly lifting it, not too much, but enough to feel his stomach and ribs. Sal’s thumbs stayed outside of the shirt. Travis put his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes.
“That feel nice?” Sal asked.
“I don’t know,” Travis replied. “It feels new.”
“Mhm.” Sal had been staring at Travis’s expressions this whole time. He had become sort of infatuated with the way Travis’s eyebrows would scrunch lightly, then relax, and his closed eyes would twitch, sometimes opening for a second to stare at nothing, then closing tightly again, and his lips would part just a little every time he liked something. He was nothing short of a saint, Sal thought. He finally took his eyes away from the view beneath him and looked at where exactly he was touching Travis.
His ribs protruded outwards slightly, and his stomach was thin, and he was covered in brown and purple bruises all over. Sal stopped moving his hands. “Oh, Travis…”
Travis lazily opened his eyes. “Huh?”
“What did they do to you?” Sal lifted Travis’s shirt just above the ribs to get a better look.
“I told you I was bruised.” Travis’s expression filled with mild frustration.
“I know, but… this bruised? Dude, do we need to call someone? The cops?”
Travis shot upward. “No! No, please don’t call the police. Please. My father’s just– he– he gets mad sometimes. If I mess up, he gets mad. It’s not his fault, okay?”
“Yes it is, Travis!” Sal shouted, less like a yell and more like a beg. “You’re being beaten! Look at yourself. This is not the way a seventeen year old should look. I can see your ribs. You’re purple all over. You’re worrying me, man.”
“Please don’t call the police, Sal.” Travis’s voice shook. He never got this scared. He pulled his shirt down as if that would make Sal forget his concern in the first place. “Don’t call the police. My dad will literally kill me, or try to kill me, or kill you. Please.”
Sal had no idea what to do. Travis was being domestically abused, of course he’d want to do something about it. Any sane person would. But Travis was begging to not be helped as much as Sal was begging for the cops to come. Sal knew close to nothing about Kenneth Phelps, but he knew he was a dangerous man. An evil, deranged, dangerous man. What kind of human would do this to his own son? No, Kenneth Phelps wasn’t human. That man was a monster.
Instead of saying any of this out loud, Sal simply said, “Do you want to stay over tonight? I’ll make you breakfast in the morning. It’s the weekend, anyway. I’ve got no plans.”
Travis’s eyes lit up a little. “Really?”
“Of course. Anything to get you away from there. I’m serious. It’s not safe for you.”
Travis agreed. As much as he hated it, he agreed. He wasn’t safe. But it was his home. And he didn’t want to betray his home, nor his religion. But looking at Sal in front of him… had he not already betrayed his religion in the first place? His feelings were conflicted. “I’ll stay here,” he said. “Just for a few days. But I have to go home on Sunday for church.”
A sigh came from Sal. “Okay. Deal. Just long enough to get you some good food and proper rest.”
“Sure.” He glanced at Sal’s pocket. “Can I have my cross back?”
“Are you done making out with me?”
Travis stammered, “I– we– t–that is not what we were–! It was just a kiss, Sally Face!”
“Mmm. Sure. But that doesn’t answer my question. Are we done, or do I need to keep this with me? Because I’m not letting you kiss me and then get all emotional about Jesus while our legs are tangled up.”
Travis thought about it. “Well… Maybe just a few more minutes without it couldn’t hurt.”
“That’s the spirit.” Sal glanced back down at Travis’s shirt. Maybe he was just trying to distract Travis, because Sal knew how much him admitting his dad was a horrible person scared the hell out of him. Even thinking about his dad for too long made Travis start to lose it; get all snappy and hidden away again. Sal didn’t want to see him like that anymore. Travis had been hiding away for years. His whole life, even. It was heartbreaking.
Sal was just happy he could do this for Travis. And it wasn’t entirely for him, either. Travis was quite the kisser. And, of course, he was a lovely person, too. You just needed to know exactly where to look. And Sal was so incredibly glad he’d found exactly where to look. Because as he saw Travis lay back down and tangle his hands in Sal’s hair, who leaned over him, he realized that with Travis was probably the best place he could ever be. Maybe he was in love with him. Of course he had to be in love with the fucked up one. When had Sal ever found himself infatuated with anybody of any other kind? It always had to be the fucked up ones.
And when they kissed for the third time, fireworks seemed to go off in both their heads. This was exactly where they both wanted to be. Sal’s hands ran down Travis’s entire body, feeling the way different joints would react, getting to know him through nothing but movement. And Travis finally felt wanted, since he hadn’t been touched with any sort of love in so long. It was only punches, kicks, slaps, and grabs, but with Sal? Lord above, he was so incredibly gentle. And his voice was like honey. And his lips, deformed as they were, only having half a face to actually kiss, even still, they were just so…
Travis felt like he must’ve been dreaming. And the smell of incense filled his nose again, and it was overwhelming, and it gave him a headache, but it was so good. Sal was so good. And he said that to him between kisses; how wonderful he was. And Travis forgot about the necklace in Sal’s pocket, and his dad, and his God, and the Phelps Ministry, because all he could think about was the here and now.
Sal kept noticing each of Travis's little sounds he’d whimper out on occasion, and Sal would try to provoke him further for more of those sounds saying, “You sound so pretty, Phelps. You just sound so, so perfect.” Because it was the truth, at least to Sal, and Travis had no idea he’d even been making any noises until Sal brought it up, and it gave him a swarm of butterflies.
Neither of them bothered to count how long they were actually kissing for. Occasionally they’d stop to take breaths, maybe say one or two sentences, but they’d always start right back up again. And they would sometimes switch the way they were laying down. And Sal would sometimes move to kiss down Travis’s neck instead, which was actually more like little nibbles because of his deformed lips, but Travis loved the feeling. They kept saying things that would immediately be lost in the moment. Travis thought he may have said an “I love you” during it all, but it was hard to remember. Maybe Sal had actually said it.
It had to have been at least seven minutes of this back and forth, and neither of them cared how long it went on for. Sal and Travis were practically pressed into each other before one of them said anything. One of their longer kisses broke off, and the two of them stared at each other from an inch away, tired and flushed.
Travis was actually dizzy. He couldn’t tell if it was the fact that he was drunk on the new feeling or the constant lack of air. Sal was a little out of it too. His heart was racing and his mind was flooding with thoughts of ‘what should we do now’?
“Sal…” Travis sighed out, his arms held above his head and hands being pressed into the pillow by the one above him. He swallowed. “...What was I here for, again?”
Sal thought it was a little funny how they both had to think about it for a minute. Then Sal’s eyes (well, the one that could move) widened. “The school project. Shit, I totally forgot.” He sat up.
Travis said, “I’m here until Saturday night, though. We have time to work on it.”
“I guess so.”
The two fell silent and looked over at each other. Sal cracked a smirk, then began to chuckle, and soon was erupting into laughter. Travis awkwardly joined in with him. The two sat there laughing, both having never heard each other fully laugh before, finding it beautiful and hilarious. Sal fell back onto the bed and grabbed Travis who fell with him, exclaiming, “Oh gosh!” in surprise. They continued to laugh together for another twenty seconds, occasionally pausing, looking at each other, then laughing again.
“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Travis giggled in both a wondrous awe and a genuine fear. “You’re a bad influence, Sally Face.”
“I’ll be honest with you, Travis, I wouldn’t be a real Fisher if I wasn’t a bad influence.”
They both chuckled again. Sal reached into his pocket and pulled out the cross necklace. “Here. Felt kind of bad keeping it for so long.”
Travis took it back and put it on. “Thanks.” His smile faded just a little. Not completely, but enough. He exhaled sadly. “Dad’s gonna kill me.”
“You’ll kill him first.”
“Ha-ha, very funny, asshole.”
Sal turned to look Travis in the eye. “I’m serious, man. You may love him now but I promise that one day you’re gonna see what I see, and you’re gonna kill that bastard when we get older. Mark my words.”
Travis scoffed out a laugh. “Yeah, right. I’ll heroically stab him in the heart and, what, sacrifice myself in the process, thus saving Nockfell from the horrors of the Phelps Ministry or something?”
“That’d be pretty metal.”
They both turned to stare at the ceiling. Sal had put some of those glow-in-the-dark sticky stars on the roof and they were emitting the faintest pale green, even in the light. Travis yawned and put his head on Sal’s shoulder. “Let’s save that project for tomorrow.”
“I agree.”
“Or not do it at all.”
“Even better.”
“Do you want to have a sentimental heart-to-heart make out session again?"
“You read my mind, Phelps.”