"Y/n! What is this?!" she frowns at the print in her hand.

I explain what happened without holding back any key details, since even this pray-the-gay-away family still loves me. My mom is absolutely appalled by the end of it. Her jaw is on the floor, and she's no longer looking at the pictures. I look back her blankly.

"He did that all in a dress and platforms, too. And he didn't get any blood on his clothes, which I thought was impressive, considering how hard he punched the old man. His nose was bleeding, and so were Sal's knuckles."

"You're lucky to have someone so protective. And you're right, that is pretty impressive. I trust that boy a lot more- I guess his height doesn't hold him back. What did his family think?"

"They love me. Probably only 'cause I yelled a Bible verse and did my best to stay out of the way, while also being polite and dating Sal. They all seemed thrilled to see him," I grin.

"Haha, I bet. Who is this lady looking at you here?" she asks, pointing to a woman focused on my smile instead of the camera.

"Oh, that's Mary."

My mother and I continue to gossip about everyone and everything related to the wedding for a while, until I hear a knock on the door. I place the stack of images I'm holding on the coffee table in front of us and hurry to open the door. I'm a little confused to see Todd standing in my doorway.

"Hey, what brings you here?" I smile.

"I seek information on Sal's MCP joint damage, and figured you could be a reliable source," he says calmly, pushing his glasses up. "I don't find going behind his back to be very tasteful, but as his close companion, I am also rather perturbed."

"His what?" I forget about this kid's amazing vocabulary sometimes.

"Metacarpophalangeal joint injury?"

"Uhh..."

"Knuckles."

"Oh, he punched his great uncle in the face and dislocated his shoulder at his cousin's wedding," I shrug. "...That sounded a lot better in my head."

"Hm. He seemed to be feeling guilty, so I didn't want to worsen his condition with an interrogation. Would you mind giving me some context as to what many have triggered his fight response?"

"Not at all, come on in," I step aside and lead him to the couch. "Mom, can I talk to Todd for a minute?"

"Sure, I need to go grocery shopping anyway. Be safe," she stands from the couch and kisses my forehead.

"You too!" I call as she slips her boots on and grabs her keys before leaving.

"Should I mentally prepare myself?" Todd gives me a concerned look as he sits down next to me with his right ankle over his left knee.

"Probably. Need a minute?"

"I don't think so. Please, explain," he nods graciously.

"Basically, his great uncle wouldn't stop asking invasive questions, and when he got mad and poked me for nicely telling him to stop, Sal told him to knock it off, which only made him more mad. At this point, everyone is watching, so I yelled a Bible verse about not being mean or whatever when he got ready to smack Sal's consciousness into the oblivion. Then he tried to punch me instead, but Sal shoved him off balance, and beat the living shit out of him."

"Intriguing. How did his family respond to this?" my visitor looks at me earnestly.

"Uhh, well they really like me for hollering something about their poorly translated cult guide and trying not to take any attention away from the groom and his partner. And I think they're kind of obsessed with Sal unconditionally, so I already had brownie points for dating him. They were proud of him for protecting me," I chuckle.

"Intriguing. He did show me a few pictures of you two in the back room of the venue, so I presume you two were made comfortable there?"

"Yeah."

"I see. Thank you for your input, I'll see you soon. I have plans with Neil," my friend smiles and stands up.

"Okay, have fun," I beam.

Todd gently closes the door behind himself as he leaves. I flop back on the couch as soon as I hear the door click and let out a pitiful noise somewhere between a groan and a whine. I sigh and let my thoughts wander for a while, until I randomly decide that I'm overheated and thirsty. I hop up from the couch and change into a baggy graphic T-shirt and black fishnets (comfy af) before heading into the kitchen.

I put some ice and Coke in a glass, plus some grenadine to make it cherry-flavored. I sigh contently and sit on the floor beside the shoe rack, the farthest spot away from the vents. By the time my glass is 2/3 empty, there's yet another knock on the door. I ignore it- my mom isn't home, and I'm only wearing an oversized shirt. I hear a click, and realize it must be Sal. I gave him a copy of my key recently.

"Hey, whatcha sittin' on the floor for?" he smiles and quietly closes the door to sit next to me.

"It's too hot, and this is the farthest away from the vents I can get," I sigh.

"Yeah, it is pretty hot in here," Sal chuckles and tips his mask back just a bit to take a sip of my drink. "What is that?"

"Just Coke and grenadine," I shrug.

"It's good."

"Hey, how did you know I was ignoring the door and not just out?" I ask.

"I didn't, but I know you don't like answering the door, heh."

"Okay, just making sure you're not here to commit arson," I grin and take another sip of my Coke.

"Fair enough," he ruffles my hair.

"Stop," I pout and fix my hair.

"Nope."

"My house, my rules."

"My puppy, my rules," he smirks.

"My sir, my rights and liberties," I challenge him. "You're being removed from office."

"You can't fire me; I'm union, bitch," Sal drags a finger over my fishnets.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Bill Clinton."

"Then put on a pair of pants," he raises his eyebrows.

"I live here. You broke in. I'm wearing shorts. So no. Also, nobody's clothes are an invitation," I glare.

"I know, I just didn't have a comeback," he laughs.

"Ha! I win!"

"Cool your jets, Aaron Burr."

"Shut up, Hamilton. You're not the main character," I scoff.

"Then why is everyone obsessed me? I saved our economy, y'know!" Sal puts a hand over his heart and gasps dramatically.

"I also know you never shut your trap. Unlike you, I believe women are just as capable as men. Oh, and I don't gaslight my wife or abandon her. No, you'll find me giving my daughter an education, instead, which is why she knows those things too."

"Wait, wait. Burr kills Hamilton, how do we make this historically accurate?"

"I don't know. But uh, let me just remind you that you're the reason the Whiskey Rebellion happened. Get your hand out of those poor farmers' pockets."

"Oh, come on. Washington took care of it easily."

"First of all, Washington is terrifying. That's why France didn't try stealing our boats and shit when he was president. Second, how much did that cost? How many people did he draft just to show up and walk home? You created taxes in hopes of lowering them, but made them last longer. Oh, not to mention the people that ended up getting hanged."

"If Washington didn't girlboss the way he did, he wouldn't have the respect of France, so chill," Sal snorts. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Here's the problem. France respected Washington- not America, and certainly not you."

"..."

"..."

"Why are we fighting again?"

"I don't know."

"Wanna make out?"

"I'm supposed to kill you, not kiss," I laugh.

Sal groans and takes my glass from my hand, stealing another sip. He then pushes my elbows up to straightens out my legs to use my lap as a pillow. I brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyelashes.

"Can I put stickers on your mask?" I ask.

"I'd say yes, but I don't want them to leave any marks," Sal declines politely.

"Okay. Hey, there's a whole song called 'Aaron Burr, Sir.' Maybe you should-"

"You've got a big mouth for someone who listens."

"Shut up, I could... No, I can't even lie. I'd give up so fast," I laugh, mostly at myself.

"I know," he chuckles and takes his prosthetic off, setting it beside us.

I've always loved how animated his eyes are. That's the only part of his face people really see, so he conveys emotion and tone with only them. With that being said, he rarely stops smiling. It's cute. He could have just not bothered smile when he didn't feel like it, but he took it as an opportunity to smile when no one is looking.

"What are you thinking about?" his deep voice startles me.

"Oh- nothing."

"Tell me," he begs.

"You," I shrug.

"As you should," Sal grins. "Is there a song that reminds you of me? Just curious, 'cause I have like seventeen that remind me of you."

"'I'm so crazy for you,' with three 'U's."

"Never heard of it."

"That's probably a good thing, honestly."

"Who is it by?" my boyfriend ignores my comment.

"Rebzyyx."

"How do I spell that?" he says, taking out his phone.

"R-e-b-z-y-y-x."

"That's weird."

"Yeah," I chuckle.

He turns his volume up and raises his eyebrows at me as he reads the first few lyrics.

"Don't ruin it by reading the lyrics," I snatch his phone and delete the tab before handing it back. "That's not even close to the worst part, just so you know."

He gives me a concerned look, but by the time it gets to 'wanna see me in the dirt,' Sal pauses it. His eyes bore into mine. I chuckle in discomfort.

"This is a good song, I'll give you that. But you don't hate me, do you?" he says after a while.

"No!" I exclaim. "Unpause that shit, might as well just let you listen to it now, since I know you will later. Plus I'm kinda vibing."

"Okay," he laughs and goes back about ten seconds before unpausing.

I close my eyes and mumble the lyrics with a smile. I run my hands through the blue hair of the boy resting his head on my lap. Obviously I shout 'kiss my neck and fuck me up, fuck me 'till the sun's up, fuck me 'till I throw up,' which makes Sal smirk. I don't have to open my eyes to know.

He pauses the song again, "Wait, say what you said again. Just as loud."

"No," I give him a skeptical look.

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I'm not yelling it."

"Okay."

"Kiss my neck and fuck me up, fuck me 'till the sun's up, fuck me 'till I throw up," I roll my eyes.

"Nah, come on. Say it like you're saying it to me," Sally Face presses.

"No, leave me alone. Let me shout some lyrics, damn."

"Not when those are the lyrics," he grins.

"You little-"

"Say it."

"Will you leave me alone?" I ask, exasperated.

"No, but I'll listen to the rest of the song without bothering you," he offers.

I recite the lyrics, my face getting redder with every phrase. I manage to do it with very minimal stuttering, which I was personally embarrassed about, especially since I knew it would happen. Sal seems to like it, though, which makes me nervous for some reason.

"You don't get scared yelling at Travis on your second day at a new school, but you're nervous telling me to fuck you?" he asks slyly.

I put a hand over his mouth and unpause the song to avoid any further conversation. Shut up, please and thanks. Fortunately, he makes good on his promise and doesn't say anything about the rest of the song.

"So what about me do you associate with this song?" he interrogates me.

"Uhh, skirts, me being upset and you obsessed- but I don't mean that in a bad way. Also fucking me inside a church for obvious reasons, and not testing you... The list goes on."

"Okay, that's enough for like... The rest of the week," he sits up and takes off his shirt before pulling me on his lap.

"Dude, be careful, I'm gonna spill this," I warn him, just barely stopping my cup from spilling pop on the musty carpet.

"Oops. I'll fix that," he takes the glass from me before I can protest, and drinks the remaining pop.

"You... You just... I thought you loved me," I can barely form sentences as I suffer through immeasurable disappointment. I stare down at the bottom of the glass wistfully when he hands it back.

"I'm Hamilton. I take from everyone's pockets."

"And I'm about to make this historically accurate."

"Who's Jefferson, then?"

"Larry."

"But Larry never fucked his dead wife's fourteen year old half-sister."

"We can pretend. Anyway, Sally was the OG. Original Girlboss."

"Pfft- okay. Can I fuck you now?" he whines.

"Sure, lemme put this away first," I get up with a grunt and set my glass in the sink. Aaaand that's when there's another knock on the door. Lovely. I trudge over to the door and open it, albeit reluctantly.

I look up.

And I see Ash.

HI SORRY THIS IS COMPLETELY UNEDITED ANYWAY UHH TYSM FOR 8K READS LIKE- HOLY SHIT DUDE IDEK IF IVE WALKED BY THAT MEANY PEOPLE ON THE STREET DAMN- also if u can't tell, I'm a huge history buff cuz them dudes were extra as fuckkkkk there's no way to sugar coat it lmao but with that being said I'm gonna be making a book that's basically girlsplaining history soo yea yw for helping u not fail

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