Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

21

a birthday gift for my favorite person in the whole world, pissfartboy ❤️❤️❤️

"Damn, Phelps, you look like you've been to hell and back," Larry huffed playfully upon seeing him, leaning his broad shoulders back against the wall. His neck was covered in tiny blue and black bruises. Travis narrowed his eyes at the sight of the marks, wondering how the hell Larry had managed to burst so many blood vessels in such small, circular areas.

One dark eyebrow was angled up into a high arch, a toothy, sly, lazy grin plastered on his face. "Did you like, meet the devil or something?"

"Just about," Travis grumbled back, walking out of Algebra class with Sal at his side, his yellow spiral notebook, torn in multiple places and falling apart in just about every way, folded under his arm. His eyes were narrow and sleepy, his hair somewhat tousled and unruly, strewn about his head in golden streams. His chain, for once, was tucked securely under the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He could feel Sal's concerned eyes on him, scanning him over for any sign of ailment, "It's ok, man," he assured him calmly, reaching up to apply pressure to Travis's frail, curved shoulder.

It wasn't okay. In fact, the blonde was unsure if things could even get any worse. His father had, quite literally, obliterated the item most important to him in the entire world, and the person he was trusting to piece it back together? Ashley Campbell.

She seemed nice enough, infuriatingly gorgeous, and able to drive Travis just about to insanity with covetousness, but she was nice, and she was going to fix Travis's problem- Well, one of them -and for that reason, he was happy. Or maybe, happy wasn't the right word, but he was slightly less distraught.

"Did you like, not like, sleep or something?" Larry stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with them, his eyes hazy and red, "You look like shit."

The blonde shrugged one shoulder, pulling on his backpack strap with a heavy sigh, "Hardly," he muttered back.

Sal, much less accepting of Larry's targeted insensitivity than Travis was, shot his brother a look over his shoulder.

Larry blinked at him, his mouth hanging open slightly, and then he glanced at the back of Travis's head, blinking again, "Er, uh," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in thought, "in any case, I uh, hope you feel better and shit, man."

The blonde glanced back at him, his eyebrows drawn in confusion, "Uh," he began, "thanks."

Travis wasn't sure what exactly Larry was high on, but he knew he was far from sober.

"Hey, have you given any thought to what you're gonna do?" Sal spoke up politely.

"Huh?" Travis met his gaze for a moment, almost tripping over his own feet with fatigue.

Sal looked him over quickly and then smiled, his blue pigtails bouncing slightly as he walked. He had a variety of different earrings adorned on his ears, hoops, and studs, and a small set of gauges on the bottom, "About Kendstead," he clarified.

Travis swallowed and walked with him into the cafeteria, loud with clammering students, "Oh," he sighed nervously, "I don't really know."

He was still in a significantly high state of shock after the events of the day prior. Travis hadn't quite gotten used to the fact that his mother wanted to see him, that his mother was still so close, not dead in a ditch somewhere across the country as Kenneth had always implied.

"Kendstead is only two hours away," Sal said, his voice placid and friendly, "Larry could drive us there, if you wanted company, man."

The brunette tilted his head towards them at the mention of his name, rubbing at his eyes with a dazed look on his face, "What's Larry doing?" he grumbled.