Chapter Text
Well, that was fucking embarrassing.
Travis's heinous, neon green shoes squeaked against the filthy linoleum floor of the boys' bathroom as he shuffled towards the sink. He huffed and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought that Sal had just shown up and comforted him through the toilet stall like a mother would a child.
He had been caught red-handed. Maybe, his "quiet" sobbing into his palm was too loud. Maybe, Sal just happened to be walking in when he heard him in the stall.
Either way, The situation was utterly humiliating.
The water from the faucet was cold, and while Travis would typically prefer warm water on most occasions, he found that the coolness was a nice contrast to how hot his face was burning.
He half-heartedly splashed some water on his skin and then angled his head up to stare at himself in the mirror.
Travis met his own eyes in the reflection, and for a moment, he faintly heard Sal's gentle voice in the air of his thoughts.
"I think under all of that anger, there's a good dude who's afraid to be himself."
He could still imagine that familiar head of blue hair leaning against the other side of the stall door. Travis could still hear the tenderness of his words, the intentions behind them.
He shivered. Sal Fisher couldn't have been more wrong.
Travis tore his eyes away from his reflection and directed his gaze down at something nestled at the crease between the garbage can and the tile floor.
There it was, in all of its glory; his sad, little, crumpled note, nearly forgotten on the ground.
Travis stared at it tentatively from across the room, something uncertain brimming in his eyes. Hell, what was the point of picking it back up anyway?
He sighed and shut off the sink, shaking the water off of his hands haphazardly.
Sal Fisher probably read that stupid note. He probably read it and knew that Travis was the one that wrote it.
He felt his chest tighten with anxiety. Sal probably knew that the letter was meant for him.
Travis's head spun as he remembered the things he'd scribbled there on the sheet torn from his algebra notebook.
"I'm crazy about you!"
"But I know these feelings I have are wrong. It's not the way a boy should feel."
Shame bubbled up through his chest and into his throat. Sal wouldn't tell anyone, would he?
Maybe he would.
He let out a breath and pulled his eyes away from the note and towards the bathroom door. Muffled sounds of laughing, chatting students rang through the wood, and Travis twisted the toe of his shoe against the tile.
Well, he couldn't stay in here forever.
He glanced back at his reflection in the mirror. The skin around his right eye was purple, blue, and swollen, throbbing in pain.
Travis's left eye didn't look so hot either, puffy and pink from crying.
There was nothing he could do about it now.
Travis swung open the bathroom door, actively attempting not to do so in a way that made him look shy or hesitant, and joined the masses of kids crowding the hallway. The smartest thing to do was to go about his day and pretend that the Sally Face situation never happened.
Travis kept his head down as he walked. He felt heavier than usual, maybe not physically, but he was weighed down iternally. There was a certain bitterness in his chest, one that felt dim and slightly anxious.
Normally, he looked up and ahead while he made his way around the school. He wouldn't get confused or lost that way.
Today, he didn't feel like putting in the effort. Who cared if he ended up in a janitor's closet anyway?
Even with his gaze downcast, Travis could never miss that familiar head of curly ginger hair walking parallel to him, coming from the other direction.
Well, if it wasn't the school's most infamous gay guy. Todd was so gay that it seemed to rub off of him and onto everything and everyone that he interacted with.
Being one of Sal's closest friends, of course, Todd Morrison was everything that Travis hated.
He was a nerd, for starters. The guy was always spewing off scientific or mathematical facts that no one asked for. He thought it was exceedingly necessary to share his extremely liberal and progressive political ideas with his peers.
Now, Travis wasn't into politics, but he did seem to pick up the idea that Democrats were bad from his father at some point. He wasn't sure why and he didn't care to question it either.
And then there was the real kicker. Not only was Morrison gay, but he felt the need to flaunt it around like a fashionable accessory too.
Travis wasn't familiar with pride flags, and he didn’t want to be, but he did know that the rainbow was associated with homosexuality.
As Todd passed him in the hall, Travis's downcast eyes caught a glimpse of rainbow striping across the rubber of his worn white converse high tops.
He had half the mind to make some snide, borderline-homophobic comment, but held his tongue. He didn't have the energy. The bathroom situation had shaken him up more than he'd really like to admit.
That feeling he had when he was talking to Sal, the deep, guttural twisting and flipping of his stomach stayed with him longer than he had thought it would.
It was still there when he timidly pushed his way through the hallway. It was still there when he got on his bike to leave, and it was still there as he laid stiffly in bed for the night, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling.
The next morning came and went quickly, and as Travis got ready to take off on his old, red bike, he waved goodbye to his father, who barely spared him a glance in exchange. Maybe that was what he deserved for having such a painfully obvious crush on another boy.
Even if Sal wasn't his little homo-fixation, Travis was well aware of the fact that his father still wouldn't like him.
He was practically Kenneth Phelps' Kryptonite; an alternative, gay kid, a non-christian kid. The sight of those weird rubber bracelets around Sal Fisher's pale wrists alone might've been enough to set Mr. Phelps off.
Travis didn't think they were so bad.
It was getting cold, and the January air was really beginning to get to him. He rode his bike parallel to the sidewalk and the icy breeze made his skin crawl. The air was crisp and his face was starting to become annoyingly dry.
Travis briefly wondered how Sal got to school every day. Maybe he took the bus, packed into a window seat with his headphones on, or maybe he walked there with Larry Johnson.
It didn't really matter. He dismissed the curious thought just as quickly as it had popped into the forefront of his mind.
If only he could erase his homoromantic thoughts about Sal too. He clenched his jaw and pedaled faster down the block. Thinking about the situation would just make it worse. It would be stupid of him to allow himself to continue thinking those things about Sal Fisher.
The first two periods of class weren't absolutely atrocious. Travis almost sort of understood the Econ material, and history wasn't overwhelmingly difficult either.
The unfortunate part of the morning didn't involve classwork. In fact, it didn't even involve the classroom setting at all.
It manifested when Travis found himself face to face with Sal himself, in the hallway.
He was standing with his usual posse. Todd Morrison on his right, babbling about some sort of psychological theory and talking exasperatedly with his hands. Ashley Campbell on his left, smiling and listening quietly with her head dipped to the side. And then there was the one that Travis was really scared of.
Larry walked slightly ahead of Sal, hands stuffed in the loose pockets of his black hoodie. His hair was tied up in a bun that seemed to be falling apart and his hazy eyes were trained over his shoulder as he chuckled something unintelligible to Sal.
They both laughed and Travis nearly shit himself when Sal's gaze tore away from Larry and landed on him.
He looked away quickly and stared at his shoes as he walked, heart thumping triumphantly against his chest as if it was trying to break out. Travis had the strangest inclination that Sal Fisher was still looking at him.
He was sure that his cheeks were pink. Now, Sal knew that he was staring.
The boy's blue hair was tied into low, messy pigtails that brushed over his shoulders. He was wearing a loose, black tank top with one of Larry's old red hoodies from middle school tied around his waist.
The sight of his exposed arms was enough to make Travis's stomach do stupid little flip flops. He wanted to slap himself.
Sal's brows creased under his mask as he watched Travis walk off into the crowded hallway. His neck strained as he stared over his shoulder at the back of Travis's head.
For a moment, he considered calling out his name. Maybe, Travis would be willing to walk with him. Sal did say that if he needed a friend, he'd be there.
Before he could make up his mind, he collided with Larry's back. Apparently, he had stopped walking.
"Woah, you good?" Larry exclaimed with wide eyes, watching as Sal stumbled backwards into Ashley and Todd.
Sal adjusted his shirt with a nod and mumbled a brief apology to the two standing behind him.
"Yeah," he said, separating his wispy bangs delicately, "I'm okay, sorry."
Larry's eyebrow twitched upwards and a devious smile stretched on his face. "Daydreaming again?" He asked, eyes crinkling as he laughed.
Sal laughed back and his voice was calm and clear as he began walking beside Larry again, "Not quite," He answered vaguely, not wanting to give away the whole situation with Travis.
Larry was his best friend, but Sal had promised to keep what happened in the boys' bathroom a secret. It didn't cost him anything to uphold that promise.
"How mysterious," Todd snickered softly, shaking a hand through his mess of ginger hair.
Sal smiled under his prosthetic as Ashley leaned her elbow on his bare shoulder, raising a playful eyebrow at him.
"Sal's a mysterious dude," Larry shrugged nonchalantly, shaking his head with a hearty laugh. He ruffled the shorter boys hair.
“Am I?” The curious voice in his head inquired. Sal didn't think there was much mystery to him. Anything that you could possibly want to know about him was something he'd tell you if you asked politely.
Well, everything except for secret promises that were made in boys' bathrooms.
Sal was sincere, and he wasn't going to tell someone about something that he was specifically told not to talk about.
If anyone was mysterious, it was Travis. Yesterday, in the bathroom, Sal had found a note crumpled on the floor. There was no denying that Travis was the one who wrote it.
He couldn't say that he was astonished to find out that Travis wasn't straight. He mentioned how being gay was wrong constantly, and at times where it wasn't even the topic of conversation, not that Sal really conversed with him in the first place. It didn’t take an incredibly intelligent mind to figure that some of the hatred must have been a projection.
That, paired with the note on one floor and the sniffling echoing from his stall in the bathroom made it clear that was Travis gay and that he was the one who wrote the note too.
What did amaze Sal was the fact that Travis had a crush on another boy. He didn't believe that there was a single person in the world that could evade Travis's hostility and hatred. Sal wondered what kind of person he liked.
Knowing that Travis was struggling made Sal feel uneasy. There was this sort of swirling, swimming feeling in his chest that he wasn't sure he liked. No one deserved to feel the way Travis did.
"Hey, Lar?" He blurted out, snapping back to his senses. His heart was beating faster than usual at the realization that he was keeping a secret from his closest friend.
Larry tilted his head towards him, hands fidgeting with the spare coins in his pockets, "Yeah?" He smiled, eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I'm heading this way," Todd jabbed his thumb to the left, towards the perpendicular hallway. He stopped walking, standing firmly with a hand on his backpack strap.
"Okay, see you later!" Sal's blue eyes crinkled, indicating that he was smiling.
Larry and Ash gave their respective goodbyes to him and Todd headed off towards his class.
Larry readjusted his book bag and watched as Sal twisted his sliver rings in circles around his anxious fingers, "What's up?" He pried, knowing that he had something he wanted to say.
Sal's eyes shifted up at him and Larry saw something unidentifiable in them. "If you knew someone was having a hard time making friends, because they- well-" He shook his head, trying not to make it extremely obvious that he was talking about Travis, "because they were unpopular," he settled on the words, "what would you do to help them?"
"Unpopular..." Larry echoed, leaning his head back in thought. One hand came out of his pocket to hold his chin. He hummed for a moment, brows furrowed. "Well... I'd probably talk to them a lot, and introduce them to my friends."
Sal looked down at his vans and nodded. Well, introducing Travis to his friends didn't seem like a viable option, but talking to him was certainly something that he could do.
"What do you think?" Larry mumbled to Ashley, who raised her eyebrows inquisitively at the question.
“I don’t know,” She thought about it for a moment, glancing away, "I'd try to make them feel less alone."
Sal's sapphire eyes widened. That was right. Travis was probably so lonely. Sal couldn't even imagine what life would be like if he didn't have his friends. Travis would probably like to have friends too.
"Why do you ask?" Larry grumbled with a smile, "Someone you wanna become friends with?"
Sal chuckled and his voice came out as steady and gentle as ever, "It's nothing much."
It was official. Step one in Operation Travis was to have another full, positive conversation.