Get Me To A Church

CHAPTER 8: GATHER

           "You can sit with us at lunch," I said.

           Travis gave me a sour look. "Why?"

           He obviously loved questioning normal, friendly activities. It was pretty concerning. "Just because. Doesn't it ever get lonely sitting by yourself at lunch?"

           He stared at me blankly. "I guess," he said quietly, shrugging. "Larry would punch me in the mouth."

           "He won't," I said. "He just used to say that sort of stuff because he's protective of his friends. He doesn't want us to be bullied. He'll understand that you're trying to be a better person."

           Travis sniffed disdainfully. "Whatever," he grunted.

           I frowned and wiggled my fingers nervously. "If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to sit with us," I told him.

           He looked at me like I was crazy, then folded his arms over his chest. "No! I'll sit at your stupid fucking table... to humor you."

● ● ●

           If there weren't all of our schoolmates sitting around us, it would be dead silent. You could see and feel the tension in the room. It was sticky and humid, and Larry was just glaring at Travis. When he took a bite of a roll, he didn't look down at his tray. When he took a sip of milk, he didn't look at the carton. I didn't know how to control the situation, but thankfully, Todd did.

           "Are we all going to sit here and mope, or are we going to make things right?" he deadpanned.

           Larry grumbled and finally broke eye contact — but only for a split second to address Todd. "I'm waiting for him," he said, then stared into Travis's soul some more, "to apologize."

           Travis's fists clenched under the table. He didn't budge.

           "Sal's judgement is good," Larry said, his eyes narrowed, "but I want to know if you're really willing to change after all the shit you put us through. I'll act cool to you if you act cool to me. Just say you're sorry."

           Travis's lips tightened into a thin line and he kept quiet. Larry glared at him for what felt like an eternity. Ashley and I just watched. Todd picked at his food, bored. Staring. Staring. Staring.

           Travis whispered something.

           "What was that?" Larry asked.

           "I'm sorry," he whispered.

           Larry smiled a little. "What?"

           "I'M SORRY!" Travis shouted, and the people at the tables closest to us turned around and watched, too. They turned around quickly when Larry practically shot lasers through his eyes at them.

           He turned around and stuck a hand out for Travis to shake. "Truce?"

           Travis glanced down at his fingers like they were covered in sludge. He reached forward, took his hand, and shook firmly and curtly. "Truce," he mumbled. He immediately took his hand back. Larry grinned toothily and tore his eyes away. He instead looked at his tray of food and started eating again. 

           I let out a nervous breath I was holding. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I muttered to Travis.

           Travis scoffed.