calories | sally face (rewrite)

5 | what are we to do

hey :) this chapter talks about the AIDS crisis (the game is set in the early-to-mid 90's) and there are several mentions of homophobic stereotypes and slurs. if this bothers you i would suggest you tread with caution. i will leave a 💐 to show when a slur is about to be used, and another when it ends. stay safe, and know that you are valid no matter how you identify <3 know that this chapter also discusses diet restriction/disordered eating.

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It was hard to stop thinking about doing it again.

His dad took him out to some prissy restaurant to celebrate a promotion. He got upset when the only thing Sal ordered was a salad, which even then he only ate half of.

"Not hungry?" Henry was tearing into a steak. "No, not really."

Sal poked his salad around on his plate, trying to stomach just a little more so there wouldn't be quite enough to bring home, when he heard the booth behind them.

💐

"AIDS cases have reached a peak."

"Shit, no kidding."

The man laughed. "All the fags and fairies spreading it around, yeah?"

"Good thing they're all dying out 'cause of the shit."

Sal was stunned. He looked at his dad, who looked like he was on a different planet, not paying any attention to the people behind them.

"You hear about that British fella, what's his name? Sings for that one band?"

"Oh, Freddie Mercury?"

"Yeah, that's the one! He died not long ago. Pneumonia. He had AIDS."

"He was a queer?"

"Yeah, went and slept around with a bunch of piece of shit gays when he went solo and got himself killed."

"Serves him right, if you ask me."

💐

"Dad." His father looked up. "Can we go?"

"Why? What's wrong?" Sal faltered a moment, looking for a way to respond without bringing up the shit he was hearing. The waiter came around. "Do you need anything else?"

Henry looked at Sal a moment, then turned to the waiter and smiled. "The check, please?"

"Of course." He fetched it from the pocket of his apron and stood, waiting for his dad to sign. He turned to Sal. "I didn't want so say anything earlier, but you have a pretty cool mask."

"Thanks. It's a prosthetic."

"Oh, that's something you don't see every day." He took the book and the money from his father. "You two have a nice night. Come again."

"Sure."

As they walked out to the car, his dad turned to him. "What was that about?"

"Nothing. Got overwhelmed."

Henry sighed out a tired, overworked "okay," and that was that.

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Ashley was a perfect balance between adventure and logic. She knew her limits. She knew Sal's limits, too, even when he didn't.

They hung out at a cafe, a few days after what happened at the restaurant. Henry had been quiet and tense to Sal since it happened. He guessed he ruined the night. He could barely bring himself to feel guilty.

"Man, this shit is good."

Sal looked up from his tea and realized that Ashley was two-thirds of the way through her banana smoothie. It looked fucking disgusting; gelatinous and sickly yellow, with tiny black dots in it (he wasn't sure what aspect of the banana that was supposed to be), but she drank it like a dying man in a desert. He hadn't touched his, just fiddled with his tea bag and stared down at his mask's monotone expression. There was something about the sight of himself like that that made him faintly angry.

"You're quiet."

"Sorry, just thinking about some stuff."

"There's been a great big stick up your ass for days now," she said, leaning herself towards him slightly, weight on her elbows. "What's up, big guy?"

He felt stupid for dwelling on it. But the fact people could slander an entire group of people, an entire community, say they deserved death simply for existing, was shocking. Terrifying. Infuriating.

"I was at a restaurant with my dad the other day." He paused, finding the right words. She raised an eyebrow expectantly. "They were talking about... the AIDS shit. That's been going on for a while."

"A while, shit. More like half our lifetime."

"Yeah... they, um. I don't know, they started talking shit."

"What? To you?"

"No! No, I just overheard. They were talking about gay people."

"Oh, so you."

"Ashley, shut the fuck up!" He laughed anyway, swatting at her. "But. Yeah. They said some fucked up shit. Like, straight up malicious."

"What did they say exactly?"

💐

"Called them fags, fairies. Talked about Freddie Mercury, how he deserved to die from his sickness 'cause he liked men."

"Wow. That's..."

"Said it was good that gay people were dying, too."

💐

"What the fuck? That's just fucking eugenics."

"I know."

"Think they're Nazis?"

"That's unrelated, but it wouldn't surprise me." He went quiet. Ashley leaned back, heaving out a breath and stirring her smoothie around with her hot pink straw. "So?"

"So what?"

"Why are you thinking about it?"

He was still. He thought she knew. "Ashley, I like men."

She was quiet, looked at him weird. "I know, dumbass. I'm asking why you're thinking about it, letting it affect you."

"Because they want me dead, want kids like me dead."

"Yeah. They do, Sal." She sounded vaguely angry. "And we can't do jackshit about it other than stay safe and support each other and be careful. Because people want us dead."

"I don't understand why things have to be this way."

"Neither do I, Sally. But one day," she leaned forward, voice still hushed, her tone suddenly empathetic. "One day, we'll be able to live in peace and not be scared. I know that. We'll be able to hold hands with our partners in public, kiss them in public, hold up rainbow flags and be as gay as we damn well please and never have to be afraid. And it'll be the best thing in the whole world, even though it'll be what everyone else always had." She smiled, pink lips smiling in a way that betrayed the sad look her eyes. She looked worn, all of a sudden. At 16, Ashley looked tired and stretched thin and ancient. She looked like she was put together with the near-broken threads that had passed through time's wheel a thousand times and seen everything there was to see, done everything someone could do, and had wore themselves down with all the love they got and gave in each life.

Ashley was a million years old and Sal was a little boy, and everything was suddenly so big he could choke.

They went home. Sal was breathing in the promise of total freedom. It stung in his throat like bitter winter air. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

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this was short but yk. and i honestly fucking loved the second part of this chapter. what a joy it was to write. im damn proud of himself. hope u liked it ❤️