Fire Breather || Salarry

7 • B.O.

The lack of light in Larry's room had always bothered him, and he'd be lying if he said they didn't. There was always something about waking up without the sun that seemed to ruin his day. He was in a place where no ray of light could find him. Sure he had his lamps and his black lights, but it was nothing compared to waking up with the morning filtering through a window and waking you up. That was why Larry's father helped him build a treehouse. So he could spend summer nights above the ground and greet the sun in the morning.

He'd go out there when he was having trouble, especially when he needed a smoke break. He and Sal would hang out there, and he knew that no one would bother them. When they were in his room, there was always a chance that his mother could walk in unannounced, but up here in the tree, they were truly and completely alone. It was peaceful, and Larry wouldn't trade it for the world.

He'd spent last night in the treehouse, unable to take the bleakness of his room for any longer. His phone had died somewhere in the middle of the night, and there's nowhere to charge it in the tree. He'd missed his alarm, but at least the sun woke him up. He had no idea what time it was, and he was in no hurry to figure it out.

"Larry?" He heard after a short while continuing to lie there in the sun. He'd know that voice anywhere. Sal must've come looking for him when Larry wasn't there to walk with him out to the car. Larry often drove them both to school because he knew how much Sal hated the bus. Lot's of mean words were thrown at him, and after Larry explained the situation to his mom, she had lent them her car for the weekdays to get back and forth from school.

"I'm up here!" He called as loudly as he could, but he knew that his voice was scratchy and barely audible.

Sal peaked his head in, throwing the trapdoor open, and crawling inside. He looked like he was dressed and ready to go, and Larry was still in the same clothes he wore yesterday. He could feel the dirt underneath his fingernails now that he was properly waking up; he could feel the grease clinging to his hair and in his scalp. He sat up as Sal closed the trap door.

"What're you doing here? We're going to be late for school. I tried texting you!" There was an edge to the other boy's voice that Larry doesn't think he's heard before. Maybe once or twice, but in the early hours of the morning without that much sleep, Larry was having a hard time thinking of the right words to describe it.

"You're mom's gonna kill you," Sal huffed and sat down in the treehouse.

"I know." Larry couldn't be too bothered with missing one day. It wasn't like the whole world was going to end. But maybe he just needed one day. One day that wasn't at school.

"So..." Sal scooted backward, leaning against a box that was tucked away against the wall.

"So what?" Larry grumbled, not meaning to sound so harsh, but he didn't know what to say to Sal. Not this early. He just wished he could've enjoyed the sun a little longer.

"Are we skipping?" Sal's eyes were trained on him, and only when Larry caught his gaze did he realize that there was something that Sal had to tell him. It had taken him a long time to be able to read Sal's eyes and his voice. To know what his mannerisms and his body language meant, but as soon as Larry knew how to do it, Sal wasn't that hard to figure out.

"I'm skipping..." Larry said carefully, his eyes narrowing. "You do what you want to do."

"Well, you're my ride. Dad's already gone to work, and the bus has come and gone."

"Hm, I guess you're skipping, too." Larry was waiting to see if Sal was going to bring it up himself, or if he wanted Larry to do it.  

"Or you could get your ass up and get a shower. We could smoke a bowl and go in at lunchtime?" Sal picked at his fingernails, bobbing his head. 

Larry had to hold back a groan. If this was Sal's way of asking him to please get himself together so they could go to school, then Larry had no right to deny him that. There was really no reason why he shouldn't. Maybe sleeping on the treehouse floor with nothing but an old jacket to keep you warm was a bad idea, but he'd get over it. 

"Alright," Larry said, heaving a sigh. "Let me go get a shower." 

"I'm gonna stay up here," Sal said, pulling out an old pack of cowboy killers that Larry forgot he had. He said the words flippantly like it was just a one-off decision, but Larry knew better. Knew Sal better. 

There was a reason he was staying up here in the treehouse. 

~~~

Their voices were no more than whispers in the back o the cafeteria, around a corner where no one could see them. They were huddled close together, their heads bowed down. If someone were to round the corner they would definitely know something suspicious was going on. 

Larry could hardly believe what he was hearing if he was being honest. Sal was speaking a hundred words a minute and Larry was having trouble absorbing the information Sal was spewing on the account of the just-now-smoked joint in the ashtray of his treehouse. Sal and Larry had just arrived at school when lunch was nearly over. Sal hadn't said anything on the car ride, just smoked the joint with him, and now it was like everything he'd wanted to say was coming out in word vomit, and Larry was having trouble following, to say the least. Sal sounded like a madman.

"Are you even listening to me?" Sal hissed after what must have been at least five minutes of panicked whispering. 

"You've seen... a ghost?" Larry said lamely, blinking to accentuate just how stupid he really was. And he couldn't' see Sal's face because of the mask, but he reached out and grabbed on to Larry's shoulders, dropping his head, shaking it and sighing deeply. 

Sal looked back up at him, his mismatched gaze connecting with Larry's. Sal let out a chuckle as the corner of his eyes crinkled.

"You're so fucking useless, Johnson." 

Larry let out a laugh, breaking down with his friend. The conversation may have been lost on him, and it might even have been important. After all, they were sort of paranormal investigators already. If Sal had seen a ghost, then it was probably something they might find serious. 

But even in the face of the unknown, they had to laugh at each other.

"So you'll help me then?" Sal voiced after a minute. 

Larry's face softened and he was left with a stupid grin on his face. "Of course, I'll help you, stupid." 

Sal's eyes widened and he retracted his hands from Larry's shoulders, wrapping them around himself instead. Larry shivered at the sudden cool air that brushed over the spot where his hands used to be. The bell to signify the end of lunch broke the spell they both found themselves in.

"Um," Sal said, turning away from Larry, "meet me in the treehouse tonight." He was already walking before Larry could reply. 

But it was alright. Larry had been planning on spending another night in the tree anyways. He had a feeling Sal already knew that though.