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   Travis sat on the dusty cafeteria floor for another three hours before the principal announced dismissal, most of his time spent trying to nap against the wall or watching from across the room as a certain blue-haired kid fooled around on his Gameboy.

Sal was significantly more popular than Travis had thought. Nine people had walked over to Sal and said hello. That was eight more than Travis had walking up to him.

Travis was the farthest thing away from popular and for good reason. He could count how many kids he'd been nice to at this school on one hand with fingers to spare.

Hell, he wasn't even nice to the boy he had a crush on. In fact, Travis struggled to think of a single occasion where he had proactively shown kindness to Sally Face.

He had punched him in the past, (more than once, actually), and Travis's tongue was no stranger to spitting out derogatory terms. Specifically, the ones aimed at homosexuals, which was ironic.

He wasn't quiet about it either. He was sure a good chunk of the student body knew about his raging prejudice against gay people.

As far as Travis knew, Sal was the only one who knew about him, or maybe he didn't... There was no proof of that, after all.

Travis had to assume that he read the note in the bathroom. He was almost certain he'd heard a crinkling of paper as he sat in the stall. It was also possible that he was paranoid and Sal hadn't read it at all.

   His sudden interest in talking to him was suspicious to say the least. Of course, Travis enjoyed it. He liked it enough for it to make his heart pound pathetically in his chest like some sort of drum, but it was certainly a change. Sal hadn't been kind to him like this since the first day of school; since the days before Travis began making his life hell.

  On the other hand, Sal's friendly advances were making Operation Sal quite difficult.

   It was becoming increasingly harder to block Sal out of his head, out of his sight. Day by day, Travis felt himself becoming sicker and sicker with whatever disease Sal had infected him with.

   It was an illness that made his palms clammy, his throat tight, his face hot, his chest heavy and his head plagued by unwanted thoughts.

   The only solution that Travis could think of was ignoring Sal entirely; shutting him out, but that seemed impossible; especially with Sally Face Fisher actively trying to talk to him.

  Worst of all, beyond all of the hate and pain and sadness, Travis kind of liked the illness he was developing. It made him feel good to like something; to like someone.

   The bad feelings outweighed the good ones in the end, but Travis did like Sal; and sometimes, though he'd never admit anything of the sort out loud, or even in his head, he liked liking Sal.

   What he didn't like was the snow. Travis was very tall and very thin. He always had been skinny; since the very day he entered the world. He took growth supplements as a toddler, and as a kid, he watched his father argue with doctors about his lack of nutrients. His BMI was always below average, and because of that, he wasn't allowed to play on sports teams.

   Part of it was genetics. Part of it was his pickiness with food.

   Being willowy had significant disadvantages; one of them being Travis' intolerance to extreme weather conditions.

   The heat hit him hard. The cold hit even harder. Truthfully, he struggled with any temperature lower than 65 degrees and higher than 75 degrees.

Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis PhelpsWhere stories live. Discover now