•The Note• {Travis x Sal}

4

Travis POV:

Travis grabbed his bag first, and bolted out the door before Sal even got the chance to catch up. He didn't care if Sal really was trying to follow him, or if he was going to walk with that...stoner...bleh. He still wanted to avoid Sal at all costs, like he planned. He had a minor hiccup in his master-plan, but that was okay.

He slung his bag into the large stall, instantly regretting his bag touching the linoleum floor. Only god knows what has touched this floor, and the last time it was cleaned.

Travis should be eating lunch right now, but he'd rather starve than be around that freak. Especially now, when Sal knows his secret. He felt his lip quiver at the thought of someone finding out, someone other than Sal. He prayed that Sal wouldn't blabber to the school that the son of the priest is a faggot.

There's no escaping it, is there? It's inevitable. Travis would have to come to terms eventually, but not now, especially not now.

That's when he heard the door swing open and footsteps pace right in front of his stall. "Travis? Is that you in there?" Someone asked. It was obviously Sal. Dammit! "Go away, asshat! I don't want you around me." Travis hissed, a pit forming in his stomach as he did.

"Travis, what's wrong? You only hide in here when you're sad." Sal said softly, empathetic. "I'm not sad, diptard! And even if I was I don't need your fucking pity." He felt awful saying these things to Sal, he did want him around. He wanted to spill his heart out to him, but at the same time he didn't.

He hated feeling vulnerable, exposed. He hated that word. "It's not pity, i just want you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to know that even if you aren't sad, if you just want someone to talk to, im here, okay?" Travis stayed quiet, he stayed within the confinement of the stall, in this way he was at least somewhat not as vulnerable.

"Here-" Sal said, scribbling sounds were heard and then sals pale hand slid underneath the stall. "It's my number, and my room number. This way, you can make the first move, okay?" Travis felt complimented, but frustrated. Why did Sal know exactly how to make him feel in control of a situation that didn't even involve control?

"Okay." Travis whispered, and Sal walked away. It was progress, sorta. Travis got Sal's number, and he wasn't forced to message him. He could do it himself, on his own time, when he wanted to. It made him smile.

Though, as quickly as the feeling of joy overwhelmed him, it returned back to a scowl. 'Damn you, Sal.' Travis thought. His entire plan was to avoid Sal and he just got his number. He crouched and picked at the dry skin on his knees, angry. 'Why do you have to make my life so complicated? Why can't you just stay away from me?' He sighed.

Sal POV:

'Baby steps Sal, baby steps. You're making progress. I don't care how long it takes for Travis to message me, as long as he has my number I'm content.' Sal thought to himself as he sat down next to Larry.

"Hey Sallyface! What took ya so long, dude?" Larry cocked an eyebrow. "Chill-ax, Larry I was only gone for like five minutes, I was in the bathroom." Sal smiled underneath his mask, even though everyone else couldn't see his expression. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, dude." Larry opened his lunchbox and eyed the PB&J and note all secured.

"Why does your mom pack your lunches now, Lar?" Ash asked, rather jealous. "Dunno, mom said it was cus' the schools food weirds her out. Read an article on it or somethin'." Larry shrugged as he bit into his sandwich.

"I agree with her, the food here is..interesting." Todd spoke as he nudged the lasagna on his plate. "Seriously, the lasagna literally looks like jello. What satanic food from hell that is supposed to represent one of my personal favorite foods, look like jello." Larry threw his hands up in the air slightly.

Sal nodded, Lisa really did make the best lasagna. I wouldn't be surprised if it was everybody's favorite food if they had tried Lisa's. "I think we can all agree though, the bologna is the worst of all, that shit smells and tastes foul." Ash's eyes widened, "Ew! Sal, you actually ate it!?" She made a disgusted face, though she laughed.

"It was a dare, okay? Blame Larry." Sal snickered as Larry made an offended face.

It was nice seeing everyone so happy, it was the same everyday but even so it was such a refreshment. To see Todd critique everything, Ash and Larry act like total idiots, and Sal joining in on all the stupidity.

Travis POV:

Travis cried in the bathrooms.

He knew he shouldn't cry, but he just felt so confused with everything. Life itself made him spiral down a never ending rabbit hole. Why couldn't he be normal? He promised himself tomorrow would be better but the days have only gotten worse.

Travis hated everything.

{time skip}

Travis ignored Sal the rest of the day, and Sal was okay with that. He understood Travis' feelings, and left him be. Maybe Travis would message him sometime soon, he hoped.

Travis walked home this time, he couldn't bare to be on the bus again, not today. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, silently mumbling bits and pieces of scrambled prayers in hopes of repenting for his sins. He felt awful for today, why can't he just be what his parents wanted him to be?

Kenneth always blamed Travis for every fault, even if Travis was completely unrelated. Kenneth had a bad day? He would find some way to twist the story to make it Travis' fault.

Speaking of Kenneth, Travis was home. He shivered at the wreath decked in crosses that hung from his door, he twisted the knob of the door and it was unlocked, and he felt a heavy sense of dread consume him. Kenneth was home. He walked into the two story home, and took his shoes off, replacing them with slippers. Personally, he would have preferred bunny slippers or some type of animal themed shoes, but his father had scolded him for it being too feminine.

He knew it wasn't because of that, it was because it was his mother wore bunny slippers. Kenneth did too, at one point. But now he wears dull khaki colored loafers, and so did Travis.

"Afternoon, Father." Travis stated, "I'm on the phone, boy. Go to your room." His voice was rough, a growl at most. Spite dripping through each word. "Yes, sir." He said as he made his way up to the stairs into his room, which was about as dull as the rest of the house. It made him sad. He hated his room.

He didn't hate his room because of how it looked, but how it felt. He felt every emotion in this room. He felt his saddest moments in this room, his angriest, his happiest, everything. And he could feel, almost see, every memory. Like a replay of a recording. He changed into his afternoon-to-evening clothes, which consisted of a white button up shirt, light brown slacks and his loafers. He'd like to say that he looked great, snazzy. Travis wanted to know if Sal liked his outfit too, but he obviously couldn't go dressed like this to school, or anywhere in front of him or his friends.

Travis cleared his mind, said a quick prayer and head downstairs to prepare dinner. He was thinking of something along the lines of shrimp, or lobster. They had some in the freezer in the basement, and he had seen enough cooking videos to crave sea-food. He'd save some for lunch, for once in his life.