Travis stumbled to his feet as the mask leered at him. Who was he to accept help, especially with how he has lashed out today? Red flitted across his cheeks as they continued to walk away from the school. A run-down building slid into view, but it seemed...off. A scratched sign read Addison Apartments. Go away. Run back to Daddy. Your small brain can't handle this place. With each step, the whispers grew from the corners of his head. The lobby had Travis barely containing tears. Sal glanced back worriedly at the tensed shoulders of his newest acquaintance. The backpack straps were tightly curled into Travis's fists. His knuckles turned white as he took in the dilapidated building around him. Go. Go. Go. go, go ,go g-
"Travis?", Sal said timidly, as softly as possible.
A choked noise emitted from his throat as Sal froze, unsure what to do. Travis retched forward, stumbling into the table. "Listen Travis, is it okay if I touch you?"
After a moment, Sal put his hand on Travis's shoulder once he bobbed his head. A swirl of elevator beeps and opening doors faded into blackness as Travis dropped to the ground. The blue-haired boy almost fell over with the new weight of a Puerto Rican was unleashed upon his shoulders. Sal awkwardly took off Travis's backpack and laid him on the couch. The blonde almost immediately began to stir.
"Wait! Stop! I'm sorry, I'll be better!"
Giggles followed a bright, red face. Realization traced back into Travis's foggy brain when he saw that damned mask. "Are you okay, man?"
"I am fine. Uh...s-sorry for passing out on you. My father visits here frequently and he told me to never follow him in."
Sally Face's eyes widened comically as Travis continued to talk. The pastor came here? The boy continued to ramble as sal's mind began to race. What would the pastor want with Addison Apartments and why have I never seen him here? Sally interrupted, "Hey man, it is okay. Do you want to go study?"
Travis mumbled quietly, his face red with a light sweat from embarrassment. Sally grabbed his backpack and motioned for Travis to do the same. Shakily, the tan boy grabbed his bag and followed Sal to his room. Sal patted the bed next to him and pulled out his text book. "So where did you have trouble?", said Sal with the tilt of his head.
Travis fumbled for words. How does he tell Sal that he does not understand the basic function of the lesson that was taught three weeks ago? Flushed, Travis pointed to the top of the page where their most recent unit had began. An aura of judgement seemed to emanate from Sal, making Travis shrink slightly. "Can you be frank with me?", a jerky nod, "How much of this do you understand?"
Travis groaned quietly and tugged at his hair. "Essentially nothing", he said miserably.
Sal took a deep breath. "We better get started then."
A couple hours passed with growing frustration from both the boys. Sal, ever the more patient, watched as Travis began to get more and more angry. "I hate this and I hate you! I don't need math in my life and certainly not from some faggot nerd!" Travis spat.
Instantly, Travis snapped into reality. An apology instantly slipped through his lips at the same time that tears slid down his cheeks. Weak. Travis turned a fled, madly smashing the elevator button and dashing through the hall. The world flew by as he jogged back to the ministry. The chapel rose over the hill along with the fear rising in his chest, lungs constricted as he realized he would have to see his dreaded father again. The bell clung one too many times. Surely he hadn't stayed out that late, right? Dread ate at him as he crossed into the view of a tall, pale, blonde man with a long black jacket and white collar. He smiled down at his son, but the smile was icy, driven with malice. Travis flinched and smiled back, plastered and hard as stone, because he knew that he would see that same grin as the fists rained down from above.
Bedtime was the worst time for Travis. His rib felt cracked, his eye pulsed, the same one mind you, and his throat had multiple bruises that crowned his dad's biggest achievement, the light cut he made with his wedding ring. Father had not been pleased with his tardiness to Wednesday mass, but that was really on Travis. He considered himself luck that Travis's dad didn't try to do the other thing when he was particularly upset. Travis shuddered at the amount of times his head had been shoved down in the bathtub, then punched to make him let out air. It was a wonder his dad hadn't killed him. Travis traced his eye gently with his finger, trying to think of a better excuse than he fell down the stairs. I guess I just got into another fight. It wouldn't be surprising with how I acted towards Sally Face. Oh, Sal, I am so sorry. Fingers laced through his overly-styled hair and pulled. Travis tried to spring away his disgusting thoughts.
He deserved it, right?
