pink nights / sally face

sal

"oh," our new passenger exclaims. "hi! uh, ash-"

ash turns around to look at him, "yes, yes, she's very pretty. her name is y/n. i met her during move in. we've bonded over the sanity's fall poster she had on her door."

he laughs, "sorry for talking about you right in front of you. i'm sal." he lends his hand to me.

his nails are painted black and his fingers are decorated with silver rings. he's wearing a black long sleeve that pulls up at the wrist with his hand extended like that. a tiny tattoo is partially revealed to be underneath but i can't tell what it is. he smells like lavender and mint gum.

i take his hand and give it a little squeeze, he's very cold to the touch for it being summer and all. i force a smile, "it's night to meet you, i'm y/n."

he leans over to me and in a lower voice says, "so, uh, it's a prosthetic. i, um, hope it doesn't creep you out. meeting new people always comes with this discretion."

with a closer look, i see his eyes are blue, matching his hair. which is a lot longer than it was in the picture. to be honest, i wasn't exactly dying to know about his mask, i don't ever think about other's appearances like that. of course, this explanation makes more sense then anything i could've conjured up.

"it's not creepy at all. sorta cool actually." i meet his eyes, smiling and nodding.

his eyes squint in a fashion that tells me he's smiling back at me. breaking our gaze, he turns to the window. one last glance at him, he's wearing red jeans with a hole on one knee and converse like mine. with his head turned i notice another partially visible tattoo peeking out the collar of his shirt on the side of his neck. he's got double pierced ears. he's so pale and- fuck. okay .. maybe it's time to stop looking. i look out my own window and hope i didn't stare as long as i feel like i did.

our destination feels far but i'm not familiar with the area, so it might just be me. i don't mind the rest of the car ride though. it gives me time to observe the dynamics of the group. from what i can tell, larry is exactly what ash said he would be. he pays no mind to the presence of a stranger. he's vulgar and funny. bad language and absolutely tells it like it is. ash seems to keep him in line, reminding him i'm in the backseat. i can't tell if there's something between them or i need to be more progressive about my ideas of platonic relationships. sal is much quieter, polite. only contributing completely necessary remarks. each of them holding such a different role in the conversation, each so important to the group's flow. it was cute to watch. i felt happy to sit and listen, knowing me being there didn't inflict awkward conversation or a seemingly obligated series of polite questions about me. i was useless to their conversation but just being there, taking it all in, filled a void so long unattended that i had forgotten was even there.

we finally stopped at a 7/11 and only larry got out. i wasn't going to say anything but i was confused. luckily sal asked for me.

"uhh ... what's this stop?"

"a crucial exchange that will make or break our night."

really no clarification in that, thanks ash. larry returned fast enough though. ah, alcohol. i see. larry swung his arm to the backseat and handed a heavy bag to sal. in his lap sal had a six-pack of beer, some tall boys, and a sandwich bag of green.

"oh, didn't know 7/11 sold that," i said jokingly.

"if your name is larry johnson, they do!" he said smiling, looking back at me in the mirror.