Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

16

massive tw for physical child abuse reasons!!!

Sal had put on a good act in the Phelps residence.

   Well, until dinner time rolled around.

  Travis had been sitting across from him, his back as straight and tense as he could make it under his father's watchful eye.

   Any comfort that he'd gathered after sitting with Sal in his room for a long, long time had instantaneously faded into his usual suffocating discomfort because as he and Sal sat facing each other, his father was seated at the head of the table, looking over them with calculating eyes, as a shepherd would his sheep.

   Sal seemed mutually uncomfortable, stumbling through prayer and failing to match Travis's carefully rehearsed "minister's son" demeanor.

   That's when Kenneth really began his work, asking Sal so many questions that the discussion seemed more like an interrogation than a dinner gathering.

   "So how did you and Travis meet?" The first question, a rather simple one at that.

   Travis had been darting his eyes between them, gripping his fork with ample anxiety as Sal glanced over at his father, collecting himself.

   "I met him freshman year," he said simply, vaguely, undoubtedly leaving the relentless bullying part out on purpose.

   "And what did you think of him?" Kenneth's response was quick, practiced to perfection, it seemed.

   Travis looked down at his sad plate of take-out food, sucking in a breath. He blurred his vision purposefully, hoping it would help him calm down.

    "What did I think of him?" Sal wasn't expecting the question either, lifting his head and tilting it to the side slightly. He hesitated, one hand balled into a fist atop the table, and the other laying flat on his lap, "Well, let's see..." He deliberated on it, glancing off into the distance for a moment.

   Travis felt a sickness rise up from his stomach, remembering how awful Sal's first impression of him must have been. He had severely mistreated him, verbally and physically. Neither of them could forget that. When he peeked up, Sal wasn't looking at him.

   "He kept to himself a lot," the blue-haired boy said carefully, as if picking his words from a minefield. His voice was quiet and calm, "I thought maybe he hated me."

   Yikes.

   Travis swallowed hard, not daring to make eye contact with him.

   Kenneth finished the bite of food he was eating and then dabbed at his face with his napkin before glancing between the two boys once more.

   Travis, quite frankly, would have rather been six feet underground than seated at this table for any longer.

   "What do you think about him now?" Kenneth's low voice made Travis shiver.

  His heart began to pound harder and he wondered just how honest Sal would be. He pushed his grey peas around the plate, glad that for once, his father wasn't looking at him.

   "Now?" Sal echoed, his voice rising in pitch.

   And then, like a numbing fog, he could feel his eyes on him, searching for answers. Travis gulped and pretended he couldn't tell.

   There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before the blue-haired boy answered, and when he did, his voice was gentle, "I think he's really sweet," he said, finally, "he means a lot to me."

   Had they been alone, Travis might have burst into grateful tears, but in front of his dad, he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and sneaked a glance up at Sal instead, his grip on the fork loosening.