After his brief, if not testing, encounter with Marisol, Sonny couldn’t wait to escape that particular area of the country club. It wasn’t so much about Julie that Sonny was trying to escape. In all honesty, he jokingly wanted to evade any further conversation about how the two of them were in the same ballet class when they were younger. Sonny was only in that class for a few weeks. He honestly didn’t remember much, but there was one person he remembered never judging him. Some little redhead was nice to the pudgy boy.
He reached the bathroom and it was at that same moment that Sonny had the startling realization that the little redhead who was so nice to him back then was the same one who had been nice to him. Granted, she wasn’t little anymore, but it still proved to be a little difficult for him to grasp.
When Sonny opened the door and walked into the restroom, the first sounds that he heard was the running water of a faucet and slightly browned hands under the stream of liquid. He brought his eyes came up and of all people, Sonny had to run into
him. God up above really must enjoy testing Sonny’s patience because now he was in front of the opposite end of the equation that was the strife in his life.
He took in a deep breath and walked forward.
“Sup Sally?” He asked, choosing the lesser of two snide remarks. The other ones would have certainly been
too mean. Plus, Sonny was in a good mood today, so he didn’t feel like making fun of the friendliest giant beta King’s had in its senior class.
Salem, on the other hand, was in an absolute shit mood. The day had started out great, of course, but soured upon getting the call from his dad. Sometimes, Salem thinks he misses his dad and wants to talk to him, see him, have an actual father-son relationship - then he remembers how much of an ignorant, immature child his dad really is. Salem wanted to fucking break something; wanted to feel powerful as something bent under his hands. He wanted to slam his fist against the fucking mirror - but he’s not going to.
Salem knows, from experience, that destroying things doesn’t glue yourself back together. Instead, he ran his hands under the sink and made it scalding hot, because burning was better than breaking. Though, when he lifted his head and saw Sonny in the mirror, Salem debated if the consequences of destroying things were worth punching the smug face off of Sonny.
Probably not.
“Don’t you have someone else to go be a dick to?” Salem said, scrubbing his hands harder under the sink like it would wash away Sonny’s presence.
That was too easy, but Sonny really didn’t want to start off a bathroom visit in a potential fight, so he opted not to take the low blow.
“Relax, Sally. I’m not here to start something. If I was, don’t you think I’d choose a place a little less tacky than the country club’s male bathroom?” Sonny couldn’t help but point out.
“But you’re clearly in a mood. Did my ex-best friend dump you like I knew she would? Cheer up. You know there are plenty of fish in the sea, right?” And yet, Sonny couldn’t help himself to take a shot a little above the belt.
Salem turned off the water, leaning his palms by the side of the sink and closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Sonny’s rat face. People say cigarettes help with irritation, maybe Salem should take up smoking or chewing gum or some relaxing hobby. Like knitting. Maybe Salem should knit. When he opened his eyes, though, Sonny was still there and babbling about Marisol.
“Dump me? If we were dating, and we are not, who would she dump me for?” Salem smirked, his fingers tightening around the sink and his gaze going cold.
“You? No one would want to be with some good-for-nothing piece of shit like you. Especially not Marisol, who could do so much better.”“Oh?” Sonny seemed to have hit a nerve. If he were a better man, he would’ve walked away at this point. He was having a good day so far. Nadia was being great company and he even had a good moment with Julie (even though it was embarrassing), but when Salem made it too easy for Sonny not to poke the bear a little more, who was he to refuse that all-too-tempting offer?
A smug face met Salem’s taller frame.
“Is that why she took it upon herself to walk over to me when she could have made a beeline for literally anyone else? Face it, Sally, she’s still got me on her mind. I don’t know whether to be flattered or take pity on her,” he mused aloud, pretending to actually think about his stated options.
Was it the alcohol, the anger at his father, or the need to have Marisol’s back? Salem wouldn’t think about it till the morning after. At that moment, all he could see was red as he grabbed the collar of Sonny’s jacket to push him into the tiled wall behind him. He fisted the jacket, and with vicious glee, he noted that he had torn it at the seams slightly.
“Don’t talk about Mari that way.” He glowered, his grip tightening for a moment before releasing it. Like a pot of water, his anger had boiled over, but now it was simmering underneath his skin. He smiled thinly at Sonny,
“A word of advice? Don’t mistake Mari’s friendship for sexual attraction. She’s learned her lesson already: nasty trash like you is sent to the dump, not recycled.”How could Sonny be mad at Sal? He knew in a real fight, Sonny would smoke him. What was a few seconds of heated passion that caused the taller boy to grab Sonny to years of martial arts training? So he would let him speak his peace, talk all the big talk he wanted to, even let him push Sonny into the wall and try and act like he had control, but at the end of it when Sal finally finished, a smug reaction met him.
“Since we’re handing out words of wisdom, allow me to share something with you, dainty giant,” Sonny began,
“if you’re going to put your hands on someone, make sure you know you can win and that they aren’t a brown belt in Karate. I think that’s pretty important. Also,” Sonny paused, straightening his jacket,
“I’ll always be on Marisol’s mind. You never forget your first. I know she won’t. And despite what she may think, I haven’t forgotten either.” “Black belt, brown belt - no one cares.” Salem shrugged,
“I’m going to go back to my homecoming date, so go talk to somebody else about how you’re compensating for your ugly personality and tiny physique.”With that final jab, Salem walked to the door to really find Marisol this time. He had about enough of this pissing contest and his anger had fizzled to irritation. The tension was still there, though. The feeling of a rubber band stretching taut, on the edge of snapping.
Before Salem would get a chance to do that, however, Sonny put his hand on his chest. He may have been tiny, but he still had superior strength and Sonny was just getting started.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, the door is right there, Sally,” he teased Salem. It was clear he was close to breaking, so Sonny wanted to see just how much effort it would take to get him to break.
Sal pushed a hand through his hair, his nose flaring with his annoyance. Leaning in close, he glared into Sonny’s eyes,
“I don’t care for people like you. I don’t care for men - no, boys - like you. Marisol is a sweet girl and she doesn’t need a piece of shit like you lurking around, so leave her alone. Understand?”Sal knocked Sonny’s hand away, stepping backward so he no longer had to breathe in Sonny’s scent. It’s been a long time since Salem has felt so riled up over high school drama. Gwen and he had always believed they were above that shit - but now here he is. Maybe it was pretentious of him, but he felt a sense of superiority over Sonny. Here this guy was, immature and bratty - and Salem was leaps and bounds more mature than him. It was enough to make Salem smile just as smugly as Sonny had earlier.
And like the immature brat that Sonny was, he yet again had deliberately prevented Salem for leaving. The shorter male stepped to the side in front of Salem, meeting him with a smug look.
“And what if I don’t? You gonna do something about it, Sally?” Sonny asked, almost daring him to do something. To further his point, Sonny pushed Salem back with both of his hands pressed against the taller teen’s chest. It was just enough to give him a nudge a little more forceful than your average nudge.
“You think I’m going to fight you? Don’t be a child.” Salem snorted derisively.
He was about to say more when his phone buzzed in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he half expected it to be his father texting him, or calling him, but of course, he wouldn’t. Apparently, a fucking emoji was enough of an apology for being a shit father.
Where are you? I’m outside waiting by the car. I’ve had enough of this bullshit and I want to go home.
Salem smiled, finally he’d get out of this damn place and just go home and relax. Away from the douchebag in front of him, away from crowds of people with perfume clogging his nose, and away from this damn bathroom where unfortunate events seem to occur to him.
“Well, then,” Sal nodded towards the bathroom door, “my date needs me. So would you let me go, please? I’ve had enough of this bullshit.”Despite his best efforts, Salem wasn’t budging. And it did get to Sonny when Marisol was yet again mentioned. He could bad mouth her again, but that wasn’t enough. It didn’t get him to make the first move, so he had another idea.
“Fine, fine.” Sonny stepped to the side, allowing Salem to pass. As he would, he uttered the following:
“I guess I’ll just have to drop Gwen a line, then.”Salem knew, distantly, that he was playing into Sonny's hands the same way he knew, distantly, what the lyrics of the song playing in the main room were. Yet, he still lunged at Sonny.
He wrapped his arms around his waist, tackling him and inadvertently pushing them both through the bathroom door. Once Sonny's back hit the ground, Sal cocked his fist back and clocked him on the jaw. His knuckles stung slightly, but he couldn't stop thinking about Sonny talking to Gwen. It wasn't even fear of Gwen falling to Sonny's advances, she would never, but fear of her misinterpreting the situation with Mari. With being disappointed in Salem getting involved in this trivial bullshit. God, with Gwen finding out it's not all roses and daisies in Palm Beach like Sal implied it was. He didn’t want Gwen involved in this, he didn’t want Sonny’s rat face to be sticking his nose into his relationship, and he didn’t want Gwen’s name in Sonny’s filthy fucking mouth.
Sonny looked up at Salem, smiling even though his jaw was sore and stung like a bitch. He kept smiling because he had won the verbal round. The fact Sonny was on the bottom and was now the
victim of Sal’s punches, which seemed to pack more punch than the Drake teen gave him credit for. Looks were deceiving and Sal was quite the fighter when nudged in the right direction.
“Do you think Gwen likes bruises? I know chicks dig battle scars.” He kept teasing Salem. It seemed to him the more he said Gwen’s name, the angrier he got. And if Sonny’s sensei taught him anything, which that is to say a lot of it flew in one end and out the other, it was emotions compromised the equilibrium of a man. Whether he’d take advantage of that or not remained to be seen. Sonny was having too much fun getting the better of Salem in the battle of their mental state.
Salem got one more punch in before abruptly stopping. The phone that had been in his hand and had fallen to the floor buzzed again, telling him he still hadn't opened the message from Mari. There was a crack across the screen that distorted Gwen's face on his lockscreen saver.
“You're not worth the creases in my suit.” Salem spat, throwing one last parting punch, this one even harder than the one before, and standing up to walk away.
The last punch delivered actually drew blood. And yet, as he started to stand, a little off-balance from his nose and jaw both pounding like a really killer headache, Sonny somehow retained his smile.
“You do that. I’ll see you later, Rivera!” He made sure to say it loud enough for Salem to hear him.
Now left alone, the crowd that had gathered had effectively disrupted. To call what had just happened a fight wasn’t being entirely accurate. Sonny didn’t feel like actually putting in the effort, so instead of actually giving Salem a run for his money, he chose to taunt him. That was more fun, but someone nearby was shaking their head at Sonny.
“Don’t even start with that. I could have taken him. The bitch-boy doesn’t know how lucky he is that I decided to not lay his ass out,” Sonny commented, walking in the opposite direction where Salem was, though he stopped and glanced back.
“Yeah, real lucky..”As he pocketed his hands, Sonny went off to find Nadia. Wherever she was.
