Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

9

"Were you nice to him?" Sal asked cautiously, holding out Larry's arm so he could jot Travis's number into his cellphone.

   Larry's other hand was stuffed in his pants pocket, a black, string bracelet tied loosely around his wrist. "Oh, yeah," He nodded firmly, "For sure. For sure. I gave Travis your phone number and then we hugged and cried in the snow. Everyone applauded. Afterward, I complimented his stupid little pair of corduroy pants and we both did a backflip down a seventeen-foot long rainbow. It was really beautiful, like a Disney movie."

   Sal simply glared up at him through the dark holes of his prosthetic before punching Travis's name into the new, empty contact slot in his phone.

   He sighed, shifting his weight from one foot to another, "Were you at least," he paused, "not mean to him?"

  Sal typed out a message to Travis, lips upturned under his mask.

   ??: hey trav this is sal :)

He'd have to wait for Travis to put in his name as a contact.

Larry crossed his arms, pulling away from his stepbrother with a huff. He tugged his sleeve down haphazardly and lowered his head. "I didn't punch him in that pathetic face of his," He grumbled, rolling his dark eyes. His sclerae were barely visible as he looked up at Sal due to the length and density of his lashes. "Even though the bastard deserved it."

  Sal tucked his phone into his hoodie pocket and shook his head with the faintest of smiles showing in his eyes. His pigtails bobbed alongside his prosthetic face. "He's not so bad, Lar..." Sal insisted gently, leaning against the wall, right beside him.

   Larry furrowed his brows, expression suddenly veering away from resentment and closer to disappointment. His hands were balled into fists, curled into his pockets.

    Sal tipped his head against the taller boy's shoulder and hummed, knowing that Larry had more that he wanted to say. He was being quiet to keep his brother happy, to support him even though he disagreed.

   "I know you're worried," Sal confessed, "but I'm not that gullible," He chuckled, "I know I can be naive, but trust me, all right?"

   "I do trust you," Larry firmly said without hesitation. He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

   Sal could tell there was a stronger truth hidden in his words, a truth that he didn't want to say aloud

   "He's the one I don't trust."
   "I just don't want you getting hurt."

   He could recognize it in his face, in his eyes.

   Sal smiled at him even though he knew that Larry couldn't see. "I'll be okay."

   In that much, he was confident. Sal had thick skin. Even if, for some reason, things went south with Travis, if he truly was not trustworthy, Sal would be okay.

   Even so, Larry's unease didn't leave his face, not as he walked with Sal through the frigid school parking lot, not as he parked his minivan behind the Addison Apartments and dusted the snow off of the glass front window, all the while complaining about the weather.

   Not long after, Sal went upstairs to his apartment. Larry had said that he wanted to take a nap, and he'd looked pretty tired at the moment, but his brother had the strangest suspicion that he was actually just going to mope around until he felt better about the whole Travis situation.

Sal didn't mind. He needed time alone too occasionally, to lay on his bed with his prosthetic off, his bare face out and exposed in the humble solitude of his bedroom. Those moments were valuable, the ones he spent bare-faced without anyone looking at him, without anyone staring and trying to figure out how to react to the deep gashes and hollow spaces in his face in a way that wouldn't offend him.