Chapter Text
“I’ve got to go in for surgery next week.”
Larry lifted pencil from paper and stared at Sally Face. Sal was facing away from him, skimming the back of a CD cover and giving nothing away. Nonchalance was a practiced skill Sal used call the time.
“What for?”
“Face,” Sal said. Larry gave him an ample time to continue the thought and after a pause he did. “Apparently I have some teeth floating towards my brain.”
“Shit, that sounds pretty bad.”
Sal shrugged, flipping the jewel case over and cracking it open. “They’ll fix it.”
“You nervous?”
“Kinda.” Sal slipped the CD’s pamphlet out, carefully sidestepping as much responsibility in the conversation as he could. “It’ll be fine.”
“When next week?” Larry asked, putting his pencil aside and trying to sound like his blood pressure hadn’t just doubled. His bestie was going in for face surgery to fix what sounded like a life threatening issue, and they were both trying to pretend it wasn’t serious. When the burden was too heavy sometimes you just had to dance around it.
“Friday. I’m going to be out of school for two weeks. Can’t wear the prosthetic while I’m healing up.” Sal sighed and his arms drooped, the façade of indifference waning. “It’s gonna suck.”
“Cmere,” Larry beckoned and Sal finally lifted his head, turning to face him. Sal was the king of staring contests, the mask must have made it easier to keep eye contact with impunity. A beat passed and Sal crossed the room, sitting next to his friend. Larry lifted an arm and threw it over Sal’s shoulders, feeling the narrow shoulders tense and release with a sigh, forced relaxation. “How long are you gonna be in the hospital? I could come by.”
“Only overnight if it goes fine. I don’t need visitors,” Sal said. “Besides, it’s gonna be a nasty look and you don’t exactly have an iron stomach.”
“You know I don’t mind your face,” Larry protested, shaking Sal back and forth gently in protest. Sal flopped pliantly under the ministration.
“No man, post surgery face is terrible. I don’t want you to see,” Sal said more firmly. “I’m just gonna sit in a dark room for two weeks until I stop oozing, then you can see me.”
“Damn, okay, I see how it is,” Larry said, sounding mock offended. “At least you get the good drugs for surgery.”
Sally groaned and flopped forward, folding in half and burying his face in his knees. Larry’s arm followed him, still slung over his back.
“What?”
“That’s what I’m actually worried about,” Sally spoke, muffled and miserable from behind his back and between his knees. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths and Larry patted him between the shoulder blades. “I’m not going to take their painkillers.”
“Like going straight edge?” Larry said, confused. It wasn’t that it didn’t fit Sal’s character, but he himself couldn’t imagine surgery without serious pain relief being needed. Getting your face opened up and then sewn back together again only to be sent right home? It sounded impossible.
“So,” Sal started saying, sitting up straight again and smoothing his bangs. “My family has some serious history with addiction. It’s better if I never even try a lot of stuff just in case I like it too much. Narcotics are serious shit that I just don’t want to fuck around with.”
“Yeah I guess, but this stuff is like, prescribed by a doctor. That doesn’t really count as fucking around?”
“No. It’s better if I don’t,” Sal sighed halfway through the thought and wilted before restarting the thought. “I’ve done it before without, I’ll just get through it on my own.”
“You sure?”
Sal nodded. “When I was a kid at the hospital after getting my face mixed up they had me on some strong shit,” Sal said, his words surprisingly focused and clear for what Larry was reading as some dark memories being served. “I got out of my hospital room without anyone noticing and made it all the way to the morgue to find my mom. I didn’t even know she was dead. It was pretty messed up and I didn’t even know it.”
Larry pulled Sally Face closer and his friend fell against his side; comfort offered and accepted. “Sorry dude,” he whispered.
“I’m not going to take the painkillers,” Sal said firmly. “Just over the counter stuff. It’ll be fine.”