It was the sort of warmth that made his leg bounce nervously whenever he saw Sal sitting with his friends during lunch, or whenever Sal just happened to sit slightly closer than usual to him on the bus, or whenever he wore something particularly noticeable to school. Every head of blue hair that flashed in the corner of Travis’ vision sent his heartbeat careening into overdrive, a feeling exploding in his chest that bordered on panic, but was mixed with a squirmy, mushy sort of warmth that Travis began to decide he really, really disliked. It was as if he changed the very air of any room he entered in a way that only Travis’ skin was affected by. Now that he’d realized- or perhaps, admitted- that his feelings towards the smaller boy were decidedly not hatred, Travis began to notice just how much he noticed Sally Face. Did he feel like a creep? Absolutely.īut then Sal Fisher wore his hair in a bun for the first time that semester, and Travis decided he might be okay with that. But mainly Travis stared at the back of Sal’s head. Every so often he felt as if the blue-haired boy was looking at him, and it made his entire body feel like it was buzzing. Not in Algebra, unfortunately, as he actually sat in front of Sal in that class. He stared at the back of Sal Fisher’s head a lot. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about his feelings so thoroughly in a really long time. They had a slightly awkward conversation about mental health and positive self talk where the counselor did most of the talking and Travis mostly nodded, but he felt strangely lighter after he left the office. Travis didn’t really like him, which wasn’t saying much considering he didn’t like most people, but he also didn’t really hate him, which was actually saying quite a bit much. The counselor was an older man with faded brown skin that wrinkled at the corners of his smile and a thick New York accent that made it a little hard to completely take him seriously, though his good intentions always showed in his eyes. He visited his counselor for the first time since he’d started high school. Travis flushed the letter down the toilet. words, and none of them really made any sense. After about two hours of failing to write, everything he was trying to articulate ended up as just. At some points in the letter, what he was writing wasn’t even grammatically correct, because his thoughts seemed to tumble over each other in their race to get onto the paper, vowels tripping over consonants and dodging to avoid stray capitalization in a stream of flustered, nervous consciousness. This one was longer and more embarrassing. He wrote another letter to Sal, though not to actually send to him- merely as a way to try and work through his emotions some more (at which he was more or less successful). Approaching Sal alone was the only viable option.īut then again, Sal made him more nervous than all five of his weird ass friends combined. Chug’s goth girlfriend Maple was the only one Travis didn’t have a direct negative history with, but she was… unnervingly quiet. Ashley Campbell and Larry Johnson both shot him looks of pure hatred on the regular, and after he’d spent years verbally abusing Todd and that fat kid Chug, he didn’t think he could rely on either of them to be open-minded about his newfound, tentative friendship (if he could even call it that) with Sally. Sal might have miraculously found Travis redeemable, but he knew for a fact that the blue-haired boy's friends had not. For almost two weeks straight he could barely look in the shorter boy’s direction without practically having an aneurysm, much less work up the courage to seek him out alone- and it did have to be alone. It was unfortunate for everyone that it took Travis almost three months to do it.Īt first it was just because he was still reeling with embarrassment from Sally walking in on his little bathroom breakdown. The next logical step was, of course, to ask Sal Fisher to hang out. Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 35838 Chapters: 7/15 Comments: 345 Kudos: 1357 Bookmarks: 224 Hits: 26335
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