firefly 𑁋 salvis.

VIII

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Travis shivered, hands gripping the straps of his backpack as he listened for the school bus. He heard it, engine sputtering along the road that led to the Phelps' home. His first day back from the suspension, and Sal's first day back as well. Travis only knew bits and pieces of how Sal's recovery was going, and what he heard was from church the previous Sunday. Apparently, he was coming along well- but his memory of the past two years was gone. When he got out of the hospital, he hadn't even known what town he was in. He had been convinced he was still in Jersey.

The bus screeched to a halt in front of Travis, and the doors swung open with a hiss. He boarded, walking to his signature seat in the back of the bus. The vehicle set into motion before he could even think about sitting down, resulting in Travis almost getting launched across the aisle. Great start to the morning, really. He swallowed down his irritation, finally coming to his seat and sitting down. He left the spot beside him open, optimistic about what the day ahead held for him. Maybe Sal would want to sit next to him.

The bus drove along, Travis staring out the window at familiar surroundings as it filled with teens. It wasn't long before the quiet solace of the vehicle was destroyed, the sounds of loud teenagers filling it instead. Finally, the stop he was waiting for arrived- The bus skidded to a halt at Addison Apartments, and Sal Fisher was the first one to board. He moved much slower than usual towards the back of the bus, looking in each seat, as though looking for someone specific. Travis' heart squeezed, hopeful that Sal was looking for him.

The blue-haired boy came to a stop at Travis' seat, real eye brightening as it landed on Travis. He quickly came to sit beside the boy he believed to be his, and Travis wished this moment could last forever. Finally, the moment he'd been waiting for the past two years. The moment they no longer hated each other, the moment they fell in love. But was Sal truly in love, or did he keep up the facade because he believed they had been dating? Travis was unsure, but he doubted Sal would pretend to love someone.

A hand interlocked with Travis' own, and it felt odd and wrong. His mind plagued him, berating him for being such a dirty sinner. How could Travis do this, how could he betray God, how could he give in to the thoughts once and for all? Despite this, he felt nice about his choice. He felt something odd... Happiness. When was the last time Travis had felt truly happy? He could not remember. This was making him happy.

Travis squeezed Sal's hand, peeking over at the seat across the aisle from theirs. There sat none other than Larry Johnson, glaring harshly at the two. He must've known this was going to happen, surely Sal had told his best friend that he had a secret boyfriend. Or did he even view Larry as a best friend still, if he couldn't remember anything? Travis was going to just have to figure that out, he supposed.

Or maybe not, for it wasn't long before Sal was leaning over to answer Travis' question himself.

"He told me he was my best friend, practically my brother.. It felt right, so I believed him. I hope you don't mind, I told him about us. He doesn't seem very happy, though... Did you two have a fight?" Oh, poor, innocent Sal. If this was an act, he was doing well. Travis really doubted it was an act at this point, though. Sal seemed as genuine as ever, clearly lost, grabbing blindly for answers. It must be hard, not being able to remember so much.

"Something like that." Travis kept his answer vague, internally panicking. He'd thought of everything but this. He'd thought of how they met, their first kiss, where and when they first said I love you. Why hadn't he thought of a reason for Sal's friends hating him so much, especially Larry?

Sal cocked his head to the side, eyes watching Travis' face. He was like a confused puppy, with the way he always did that when he was confused. It was endearing, though. Normally, Travis would think of something like that as stupid, childish, and annoying. When Sal did it, though, it was cute and endearing. Travis reached his free hand up to touch one of Sal's pigtails, the hair between his fingers sending an indescribable feeling through him. He wondered if now, Sal would allow him to see what's under the mask.

"When Larry and I were younger, we were friends. My dad's a bad guy, though, and he made me stop being friends with him. Larry hasn't liked me much since then." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either. Larry and Travis had been the best of friends in elementary school, but something changed on Travis' thirteenth birthday. That day was the day Kenneth told him to leave Larry, or leave home. Travis didn't have much of a choice, even though it had been presented as one. That was where the hatred- From both sides- Had started.

Travis could practically see the sorrow on Sal's face, even though it was covered, aside from his eyes. Sal was very expressive, and his feelings flowed off of him easily. If you were around him, you could tell what he was feeling, even if you couldn't see his face. His whole body language changed with his feelings. Travis supposed he had to be extremely expressive, it was a skill he had to learn if he wanted to be understood. Without a face to show, his body had to make up for it.

"Oh, Trav. I'm so sorry that happened. Maybe I could put in a good word for you to him. You're not such a bad guy, just under bad circumstances." Sal's words were so sincere, and he paired them with his head on Travis' shoulder. Travis instinctively flinched at the contact, but it didn't deter Sal one bit. The hand in his squeezed reassuringly. Guilt over this situation was eating him up inside. He was slowly digging himself into a hole, that soon, he wouldn't be able to climb out of. He wished he had never visited Sal in the hospital, wished he had never said what he said.

Hell, he kind of wished Sal had never come to Nockfell at all.

Sal was an amazing guy, he deserved better than this shitty down, these shitty circumstances. He deserved better than to be sitting with his head on Travis Phelps' shoulder, hand in Travis', fully in love with someone who, unbeknownst to him, had tormented him for years. There was nothing Travis could do now, though. He just had to hope Sal never found out the truth.

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