The Riveting Lives of Russell and Sal

Chapter 2

It had rained. School was out for the day and Russell had left the school building. Most people had already gone home, but he had to stop by the library to return a few books. Puddles littered the sidewalk headed towards the parking lot. Russell wore his usual Doc Martens, which had a thick outsole; optimal for puddle-stomping. He was about to experience the satisfaction of stepping into a particularly deep one when something pushed him. His leg wobbled, and he fell over onto the mud-soaked grass.

"Shoot!" Russell looked around for the culprit to find Sal staring down at him.

"Sorry," Sal said in mock apology. "Didn't see you there."

Russell inspected himself. The right side of his black plants were covered in mud, and some of it had splattered onto his black jacket. He ran his hand over the side of his face to wipe off any mud splatters that might have gotten on his face. Unfortunately, both his hands were covered in the stuff. "Dang it!"

Sal clutched at his stomach, howling with laughter. "What dumbass wipes their muddy hands on their face?"

Russell glared at Sal, and did a quick survey of the area to make sure no authority figures were around. "Why don't you give me a hand?" Before Sal could speak, Russell grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie, and yanked downwards.

It was Sal's turn to fall. He struggled to stand back up, but Russell pushed him back down, and got to his feet.

"What the hell is your problem?" Sal asked, sitting upright. "I said I was sorry."

"You did that on purpose!"

"No, this is on purpose." Sal jumped up, yanked Russell's hair, and ran. Russell chased him down and tackled him, pinning him down on his back.

"It was just a joke, Rusty Russell," Sal said, panting and struggling to get out of his grip. For a second, he seemed impressed, but he sneered up at him instead. "I thought you were above fighting.

"Shut up." Russell released his hold and got up, lip curled. Feeling extra daring, he gave Sal a swift kick in the shin before heading for the parking lot. And smiled, in spite of it all. It was the first time he ever stuck up for himself. Maybe he should try it more often. He opened the trunk of his car to pull out a towel, which he laid over his seat, and shoved his jacket in his backpack.

On his way home, he fretted over how his parents would react to his muddy appearance. His dad was probably still at work. But his mother... Maybe she'd be in some other part of the house. And he could sneak in the bathroom undetected to shower off. There was just the matter of his mud-stained clothes. There was no hiding that from her. Unless he showered in his clothes to get the mud off, and then threw them in the washing machine. He'd put in the rest of his laundry too, and do it tonight. That could work.

Upon arriving home, he stepped out of his car, grabbing his backpack and towel with him. He toweled off the worst of the mud, shoved the towel in his backpack, and kicked off his shoes before opening the front door. No sign of his mother in the family room or kitchen. He crept down the hallway, passing various crosses hanging on the wall. The bathroom door was open. He took a step inside and...

"Russell!"

Russell slammed the door. "I have to go to the bathroom real bad!"

"Was that mud on you? What's all this mud on the floor?"

Russell shoved his backpack in the shower, and looked down at his socks. The bottom of his pants had dripped mud onto them, which must've dripped onto the floor.

"Russell! Open this door!"

"I'm trying to pee!"

"I need to talk to you."