The Riveting Lives of Russell and Sal

Chapter 4

Black. Sal had been aware of Russell's existence for over a month now, and only ever saw him wearing black. It was like he was trying to be emo, or goth, or a metalhead. It was difficult to tell which, for he wore no identifying accessories. Only black clothes. "Don't you own any other clothes?" Sal asked, slumping into his usual seat with a scowl on his face. "All I ever see you wear is that same black shirt and those same black pants."

"I have this thing called a washing machine, maybe you've heard of them." Russell flicked his hair over his shoulder. "And if you could pay any more attention to me, you'd notice that I own multiple pairs of black pants. And black shirts. But of course, you couldn't see anything past your fat nose."

"Screw you. My nose is perfect." Sal clicked his pen repeatedly, just to be annoying.

Russell opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Norandi had gotten up from her desk, calling for everyone's attention. "There will be a group assignment that will be due tomorrow. I want each of you to read 'The Yellow Wallpaper,' which starts on page 169 in your textbook." Mrs. Norandi paused as a few students snickered at "169," Sal wondering why. After snickering ceased, Mrs. Norandi passed out the instructions. "I will assign you into pairs, and you will both answer these questions, and combine them into a 1-2 paged paper. Whatever you don't finish in class is homework."

She put on her reading glasses that hung around her neck, picked up a piece of paper from her desk, and read off names. "Noah, you will be paired with Brandy. Michael with Scott. Mary with Ashley. Ava with Aiden." Mrs. Norandi adjusted her glasses. "Russell with Sal-"

Russell and Sal groaned in unison, then glared at each other.

"Is there a problem, boys?"

"Can I get paired with someone else?" Russell asked.

"Me too," Sal said.

Mrs. Norandi squinted at them. "You most certainly cannot. I worked too hard on these pairings." She cleared her throat. "Brad and Heather..."

Needless to say, Sal was not happy.

"I hate the phrase, 'needless to say,'" Sal said. School was out for the day, and he and Russell were working on their assignment in the library. Reading the story was all they had accomplished during class. Their remaining time had been spent arguing over who would answer what question. They finally compromised on flipping coins, but the bell rang while they were in the middle of arguing over whether to flip Sal's penny or Russell's quarter.

"What does that have to do with anything," Russell asked, opening a small pack of cookies.

"It means I feel the same way about 'needless to say' as I do with being paired up with you."

"Like I'm happy with this? Let's hurry up and get this paper over with." Russell bit into a cookie. "Have you answered any of your questions yet?"

Sal pretended not to hear Russell, choosing to doodle in his notebook instead.

"Well?" Russell asked.

Sal looked over at Russell. "Did you say something? I wasn't listening."

Russell rested his forehead in his palm. "You're hopeless. Since you're likely to screw this paper up, thereby putting my good grade in jeopardy, I'll do all the work and you can go home."

Sal slammed his pen on his notebook. "So you can go to the teacher and tell her how you did all the work so she'll fail me? I'll do the work and you can go home."

"Could you shut up for once?" Russell asked between clenched teeth.

Sal's heart raced as he gazed into Russell's glowering eyes, his breath catching in his throat. Those eyes were such a gorgeous shade of blue; like large sapphires glittering in the sun. And his own eyes were poop-brown. He found himself feeling self-conscious about his poop-brown eyes and looked down at his doodle of a pug, smiling at it with pride. It reminded him of Turbo Pug; a game he had bought recently on a Steam sale. "Have you ever played Turbo Pug?"