Denial (Salvis)

Is Stealing a Sin {13}

        A small beam of light crept out from under the bedroom door, barely illuminating Travis's faint smile. Although it'd been a couple days since, he'd seen Sal, it was all Travis could think about. Something about Sal's demeanor that day was different, the usually cool headed boy seemed to be almost giddy, stuttering through sentences and laughing whenever Travis made a sarcastic comment. Travis noticed how Sal grabbed his hand when exiting the bathroom on the fifth floor, and how Sal's body language was a lot more bold, he'd even caught Sal staring at him a few times, before he quickly looked away. The thought of the mysterious ghost girl also plagued his mind, though he pushed it away, not wanting to challenge the knowledge of his religion, which he'd glorified much of his life. 

        Travis thought for a moment as he tapped the back of his phone with his finger tips. If his father caught him awake this late, surely he'd be punished, but that wouldn't be an issue if Travis was subtle.

"Hello, are you awake?" He immediately slammed the screen down onto his chest, nervous for Sal's response. Travis had never texted first before, what if he was bothering him? The lump in his throat only grew when his phone buzzed. Slowly, Travis lifted the screen, reading the reply.

"Hey, Travis! Wats up?" 

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you, I like talking to you." Travis's fingers shook as he typed his reply, how could such a menial task create such severe anxiety?

"Oh ok! I like talking to you too, Travis!"

"I know I said before that I didn't like it, but I really don't mind if you use that nickname."

"Trav? I don't wanna make you uncomfortable, man."

"I'm not uncomfortable." Travis typed his next message, but hesitated before sending it, "I like it."

"Alright then, Trav it is :)" He smiled at his screen, imagining Sal laying down in his bed while texting him, possibly without his fake face on. Travis was always more confident behind his phone, it certainly gave him more time to conjure sensible, polite responses.

"Trav, can I ask you a question?" His heart started racing, could this be what he was waiting for?

"Sure."  Would Sal confess his undying, unrequited love for Travis? Countless scenarios raced through his mind as Sal typed, each one more unbelievable than the last.

"It's about the ministry, does it have a basement?"  Travis's heart sank, a familiar sense of disappointment washed over him, though disgust swiftly replaced it. How dare he envision sinful behaviour and bring shame upon his family name with homosexuality.

"I wouldn't call it a basement. There are some trapdoors near the back, but they're always sealed with padlocks. I've never been inside, nor have I seen anyone else enter or exit, sorry."

"That's ok! Do you have any blueprints of the place?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Why do you want to know about the church so badly? You're not even religious."

"I've been taking an interest in old architecture recently and the church is like a 100 years old! I thought it might be a good place to learn." Travis wasn't buying his story.

"First of all, it's around 300 years old; second of all, I thought you were more of a science nerd and third of all, I don't think I have anything like that, I may be able to ask father tomorrow.

"No, no, no! If you have to ask him, don't worry about it." Travis sighed heavily, staring at the text message. Even though Sal wasn't telling him the truth, Travis was still inclined to help him.