freaks 𑁋 salvis

III

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Travis doesn't dread math class until he realizes, as he stands in the hallway before said class, that he has a test today. And he didn't study for it.

And, sure, that might not sound so bad to some people. To the people that are good at math, the people that Travis envies, like Sal Fisher and Todd Morrison, not studying is okay. You can get good grades without studying.

But for people that are really shitty at math, like Travis Phelps? Not studying is dreadful. Especially for Travis. His dad is already angry enough at him for getting bad grades. If he fails a class like he's on the verge of doing now, he would probably never see the light of day again.

That's why a sinking feeling quickly resides in Travis' stomach as he walks through the door of the classroom that dreadful class takes place in. The feeling feels like butterflies trying desperately to escape his stomach, fluttering around and crawling inside him. It makes him feel like he's going to vomit.

He pushes the feeling down as best as he can, though, walking to his desk and sitting in it roughly. The legs of the chair scrape against the floor and causes a loud screeching sound to echo through the room. Luckily, though, he only gets a few odd looks from teens in the desks around him, and no one says anything.

Sal Fisher comes in a moment later, seemingly unaffected by the upcoming test. His blue pigtails swing as he walks to his desk and sits down in the cold metal chair. Travis stares at him in envy, wishing so badly that he could have a life as good as Sal's. Sure, he's got a fucked up face and his mom's dead, but what Travis would give to only have those things to worry about? God, he would give so much to be able to eat as much as he wants and not get punished for everything. To be carefree and love who he wants and be good at math and everything else.

Suddenly, Sal turns his head away from the front of the classroom to look at Travis. He panics, quickly turning away and hoping Sal didn't notice he'd been staring. Sal doesn't say anything to him, only looks at him for a moment before looking away. Travis sighs in relief.

The bell rings, causing everyone's small talk to come to a slow stop.

Mrs. Packerton hands out the tests to everyone, and Travis' heart skips a beat as he looks at the paper, not understanding a single thing on there.

He tries his best though, focused on the test and only on the test until suddenly Mrs. Packerton is speaking again.

"Excuse me, Mr. Fisher."

There's no response.

"Sal, wake up!"

Travis turns to look at Sal, watching as he slowly raises his head from where it was previously residing on his desk.

"Huh?" He murmurs, eyes racing around the room before looking directly at Mrs. Packerton.

"That doesn't look like math to me." Mrs. Packerton states. Sal sighs quietly, but it doesn't sound annoyed or impatient. It just simply sounds tired.

"Oh, sorry, I must have dozed off. I already finished the test." Travis glares at Sal as the blue haired boy speaks those words. He can't believe Sal was already done with the test! Travis wasn't even done with the first page.

"I know, dear. You aced it as well. Just try to stay awake for the remainder of class, okay?" The envy living in Travis grows as Mrs. Packerton announces to everyone that Sal aced the math test. It's just not fair that a sinning homo like Sally Face gets to be good at everything while a perfect Christian boy like Travis gets nothing except punishments!

"And Mr. Phelps, eyes on your own paper." Travis sighs, looking away from Sal at back to his paper, but it's too late now. All motivation to even attempt and get a good grade on this test has flown out the window. Travis has lost his focus.

Travis huffs in frustration, dropping his pencil and placing his face in his hands. He knows Mrs. Packerton sees him right now, but she doesn't seem to care. He kind of wishes she did, though.

-x-

"Hey, freak!" Travis shouts, hands balled up into fists. Sal turns away from Ashley to face him, face unreadable because of that fucking mask on his face. That only makes Travis' anger grow.

"Nobody likes a goody-two-shoes, Sally Face." Travis states, drawing out the a in Sally. Sal, much to Travis' dismay, still seems completely unaffected.

"Nobody likes a cliché bully, Travis." Sal responds effortlessly, mocking Travis by drawing out the a in his name. Ashley looks like she's hiding a smile behind him.

"Don't you have something better to do?" She asks, reaching up and pushing a long strand of hair behind her ear. "Shut up, bitch! I wasn't talking to you." Travis exclaims, moving his focus away from Ashley and back to Sal.

"You know, if you took that stick out of your ass you may actually enjoy yourself for once. Maybe even make a friend or two." Sal states, a cocky smile clear in his voice. Travis narrows his eyes, wishing, in that moment, that looks could kill. Sadly, they can't, because Sal doesn't drop dead. He continues to stand in front of Travis, so chill and relaxed, not affected whatsoever about what's currently happening.

"Fuck off, faggot! I have more friends than you'll ever have!" Travis yells back, a clear lie in his words. Sal and Ashley both know he has no friends, so why lie? Lying is a sin, isn't it? Oh, God, he's going to have to go pray for forgiveness after this so he doesn't go to hell for laughing. Maybe if he begs hard enough he can get Sal to punch him as a punishment.

"You kiss your daddy with that tongue? I'm sure he-" Travis doesn't give Sal a chance to finish his retort. Just the mention of his dad has Travis seeing red, and, suddenly, he's punching Sal in the face. Or, more so in the mask. He thinks, hopes, it'll make him feel better, but it just ends up hurting really fucking bad and making Travis' knuckles bleed.

Travis regrets it as soon as he's done it, as he always does when he harms Sal. But instead of saying something or even apologizing as he kind of wants to do, instead he cradles his injured hand to his chest and runs off.

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