Maybe It's Love

                                    

                                          
Travis
I watched my mother finish talking to the teacher at the front of the room. Thankfully, she looked fine about everything, but I shouldn't get my hopes up just yet. She might be holding down some motherly rage.
                          
Honestly, I don't like making my mom angry. This isn't the first I've ever been in detention, but every single time I would see my mother's upset face it really hurt. It didn't feel so great seeing her like this again.
                          
In junior year I picked a lot of fights, a majority of those involving Sal, which meant a lot of time after school. It was nice to have time away from home, for obvious reasons.
                          
I heard a deep voice from across the room and saw a tall man with frazzled blue hair and beard talking to none other than Sal. It was obvious that the man was his father, both having that iconic primary color in their hair. I couldn't quite tell what his emotion was, as his back was facing towards me. But his voice sounded a bit bitter. I hope Sal wasn't in too big of trouble. 
                          
Larry was being scolded by a tall, lanky woman with dark brown hair and two brown curls hanging above her forehead. It was obviously his mother. I wonder how she feels being the bearer of a greasy douchebag. I slightly smiled as the woman took Larry by the ear and dragged him out of the room. He deserved that one.
                          
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw my mother walking towards me. Her calm expression faded into distress at each step forward, her sparkly earrings swaying. Here we go.
                          
"Travis Valentino Phelps, what in God's name were you thinking?" she said as she reached the desk I was sitting at. "And on the first day? Shame on you."
                          
"Sorry, mother."
                          
"I thought this year was going to be different. Wasn't junior year bad enough?"
                          
"I said I was sorry." I felt my throat close up. Don't cry. Don't you dare start crying.
                          
"Well, sorry doesn't cut it. You're a senior now and you need to stop picking fights! You're gonna hurt yourself and others if you keep this up, sweetheart."
                          
I didn't say anything else. I heard her sigh deeply and saw her squeeze the bridge of her nose in a stressed habit.
                          
"...What's father going to say...?" I said, fidgeting with my fingers.
                          
It took her a while to answer. "He won't say anything.."
                          
I felt my heart rate increase. Yeah, he won't say anything, just beat me to death.
                          
"How about we go get some supper before going home?" my mother said, forcing a smile. "We can go to that cute place down the street and eat there together."
                          
"Okay."
                          
I get up from the desk and my mother takes my hand, gently leading me out of the room. I take a quick glance back and I gaze at Sal for a second, until I enter the hallway with my mother.
                          
Sal
"Sal, I had to get out of a very important meeting for this..." my dad said. 
                          
"I'm sorry, dad..."
                          
"Just..." he sighed. "Couldn't you have one normal school day for once? Instead of messing things up all the time?"
                          
I fidgeted with the hem of my sweatshirt. My eyes stung and my throat closed up, about to cry. Even with a glass eye, tears still form. It's all in the eyelids, actually. Just a little factoid, I guess.
                          
"Can we please go home?" I asked. My dad combed a hand through his ruffled blue hair.
                          
"Alright. Let's go. But we're not done talking about this."