Black. Sal had been aware of Russell's existence for over a month now, and only ever saw him wearing black. It was like he was trying to be emo, or goth, or a metalhead. It was difficult to tell which, for he wore no identifying accessories. Only black clothes. "Don't you own any other clothes?" Sal asked, slumping into his usual seat with a scowl on his face. "All I ever see you wear is that same black shirt and those same black pants."

"I have this thing called a washing machine, maybe you've heard of them." Russell flicked his hair over his shoulder. "And if you could pay any more attention to me, you'd notice that I own multiple pairs of black pants. And black shirts. But of course, you couldn't see anything past your fat nose."

"Screw you. My nose is perfect." Sal clicked his pen repeatedly, just to be annoying.

Russell opened his mouth to say something, but Mrs. Norandi had gotten up from her desk, calling for everyone's attention. "There will be a group assignment that will be due tomorrow. I want each of you to read 'The Yellow Wallpaper,' which starts on page 169 in your textbook." Mrs. Norandi paused as a few students snickered at "169," Sal wondering why. After snickering ceased, Mrs. Norandi passed out the instructions. "I will assign you into pairs, and you will both answer these questions, and combine them into a 1-2 paged paper. Whatever you don't finish in class is homework."

She put on her reading glasses that hung around her neck, picked up a piece of paper from her desk, and read off names. "Noah, you will be paired with Brandy. Michael with Scott. Mary with Ashley. Ava with Aiden." Mrs. Norandi adjusted her glasses. "Russell with Sal-"

Russell and Sal groaned in unison, then glared at each other.

"Is there a problem, boys?"

"Can I get paired with someone else?" Russell asked.

"Me too," Sal said.

Mrs. Norandi squinted at them. "You most certainly cannot. I worked too hard on these pairings." She cleared her throat. "Brad and Heather..."

Needless to say, Sal was not happy.

"I hate the phrase, 'needless to say,'" Sal said. School was out for the day, and he and Russell were working on their assignment in the library. Reading the story was all they had accomplished during class. Their remaining time had been spent arguing over who would answer what question. They finally compromised on flipping coins, but the bell rang while they were in the middle of arguing over whether to flip Sal's penny or Russell's quarter.

"What does that have to do with anything," Russell asked, opening a small pack of cookies.

"It means I feel the same way about 'needless to say' as I do with being paired up with you."

"Like I'm happy with this? Let's hurry up and get this paper over with." Russell bit into a cookie. "Have you answered any of your questions yet?"

Sal pretended not to hear Russell, choosing to doodle in his notebook instead.

"Well?" Russell asked.

Sal looked over at Russell. "Did you say something? I wasn't listening."

Russell rested his forehead in his palm. "You're hopeless. Since you're likely to screw this paper up, thereby putting my good grade in jeopardy, I'll do all the work and you can go home."

Sal slammed his pen on his notebook. "So you can go to the teacher and tell her how you did all the work so she'll fail me? I'll do the work and you can go home."

"Could you shut up for once?" Russell asked between clenched teeth.

Sal's heart raced as he gazed into Russell's glowering eyes, his breath catching in his throat. Those eyes were such a gorgeous shade of blue; like large sapphires glittering in the sun. And his own eyes were poop-brown. He found himself feeling self-conscious about his poop-brown eyes and looked down at his doodle of a pug, smiling at it with pride. It reminded him of Turbo Pug; a game he had bought recently on a Steam sale. "Have you ever played Turbo Pug?"

Russell glanced up from his English textbook. "What?"

"It's this game where you play as this pug dog and you rush through obstacles while collecting pug coins and you see how high you can make your score before you run into something and die."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. I just feel like playing Turbo Pug right now." Sal strummed his fingers on the table. "Do you have Steam?"

"I'm steaming pretty bad, having to work with you." Russell pulled out another cookie.

"What kind of cookies are those?" Sal asked.

"Chocolate chip."

"Can I have one?"

"No."

"Rude." Sal pulled his phone out from his pocket.

"Now what are you doing?"

"Seeing if Turbo Pug is in the app store so I can download and play it."

Russell groaned, burying his face in his cookie-free hand.

"Wait! I have a better idea." Sal dropped his phone on the table. "We can go to my house and play it."

"You're inviting me to your house?"

"It's not that far. It's in walking distance. Or you can drive me there. And we can stop by 7/11 and get Slurpees. Have you ever had a Slurpee?" Without waiting for a response, Sal packed up his things, ignoring Russell's incredulous stare.

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"Are you coming?" Sal asked, flinging his backpack over his shoulder. "You're the one with the velocity-red, 2013 Mazda3. I can't drive. I only have my permit." He jerked his head towards the exit. "Come on. I'll buy you a Slurpee."

"I am not going with you to get Slurpees."

* * * * *

Next thing he knew, Russell was in his car with Sal in the passenger seat.

Sal caressed the black, dust-free dashboard. "Nice car. I want a Honda Civic."

"Why are you suddenly being nice?" Russell asked. "I thought you hated me."

"Hated you? I don't hate you."

Now that was a surprise. "You don't?"

"I mean, I don't like you either," Sal said quickly. "I'm... I'm just in a good mood. Slurpees and Turbo Pug are my two favorite things."

After swinging by 7/11 and getting Slurpees in the most awkward of silences, they arrived at Sal's house.

A short, plump woman with dark, feathered hair greeted them. She appeared to be too young to have a seventeen year old son, and didn't look at all like Sal. Aside from being white, anyway.

"Hi Brenda," Sal said to her. "This is my classmate, Russell."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Sal's mom."

Weird of Sal to call his mother by her name, but it wasn't surprising. Sal seemed exactly the kind of guy who would call his parents by their names. Russell introduced himself to her.

"We're just working on a group paper for class,"' Sal said, eyes focused on the kitchen table. He grabbed a chair, and handed it to Russell. "You'll be needing this."

And so Russell had to carry the chair all the way up a flight of stairs. They walked past a bathroom, then Sal stopped in front of a bedroom, and flung his arm out as he walked in it. "And this is my room."

There was a large desk near the door, and a six-drawer dresser against the adjacent wall. The headboard of a queen-sized bed pressed up against the center of the wall opposite of an oakwood dresser. A clock sat on the nightstand next to the bed. Across from the doorway, a window overlooked the side yard.

Russell set the chair down. "Cute cat," he said, gesturing towards the bed where a sleeping cat laid.

Sal smiled and picked up the cat. "His name is Mouser," he said, rubbing his face into the cat's fluffy, tabby fur.

"Because he's a cat, and cats catch mice?"

Sal scoffed at him. "No," he said with an air of superiority. "He's named after Mouser Electronics."

As if Russell would expect someone's cat to be named after a company he'd never heard of. He watched Sal set the cat back down on the bed. Not that it mattered, because Mouser jumped off the bed immediately and left the room. "So, what's this Turbo Pug you dropped all our schoolwork to play?"

"Here." Sal sat at his desk. "You can bring that chair over here."

Russell picked up the kitchen chair, and carried it over to the desk, taking care not to drag it.

"What, are you worried about scratching the carpet or something?" Sal asked. "Why not drag it?"

"Because that could potentially wreck the carpet." Russell set the chair next to Sal, and sat down in it.

"How does that..." Sal shook his head. "Nevermind. Whatever."

After starting up the game, Sal gave Russell a quick tutorial. "All you have to do is press the space bar to jump over things. It's easy." He demonstrated for about 20 seconds until his pug landed on spikes. "You try."

Russell took over the keyboard. After 3 seconds, he fell through a hole.

"You suck," Sal said.

"And I'm sure you set the world record on your first try." Russell tried again, this time landing in a lava pit after 9 seconds.

"Not bad."

"Really?"

"No."

Russell tried again, failing after 6 seconds. "I suck at this."

"Damn right you do." Sal leaned in to take over the keyboard, hand brushing against Russell's in the process. Russell withdrew his hand, as if Sal were made of the lava his pug fell into. Who knew what sort of germs that boy had. He scrunched his nose, and Sal's cheeks turned pink as he rubbed the spot on his hand Russell touched.

Russell cleared his throat. "We need to start answering those questions."

But Sal started a new run. His pug leaped over spikes and lava pits and holes seamlessly.

Russell glanced at Sal's clock and swallowed. 4:32. "It's already-"

"Dammit! I almost lasted a minute that time."

"Good for you. So about that first question-"

"Wanna see the zoo I made?" Sal asked.

"What?"

"The zoo I made in Zoo Simulator 5."

"Not really." Russell peeked at the clock again. They needed to get those questions done.

But Sal didn't seem to care about the consequences of not getting their work done, for he opened Zoo Simulator 5 anyway. "You know what? Let's start a new game together. We can block the zoo entrance and let the animals loose. That's always fun."

"But our paper-"

"What animal should we have first? Usually I start with lions." Sal made a square enclosure, added savannah-type trees, and placed lions inside the fence. "Wanna see what happens when I put a gazelle in their exhibit?" he asked, putting a gazelle in the lions' exhibit. The lions promptly attacked and devoured the innocent gazelle. Green happy faces pinged above the lions' heads.

"Sal..."

Sal made an enclosure for a new exhibit. "What's your favorite animal?"

"Wolves, I guess."

"So predictable." Sal placed wolves inside the new exhibit, after adding pine trees and forest floor.

"Guests are complaining that they need to use the bathroom," Russell said, pointing towards the notifications window, while Sal moved on to a new exhibit.

"They can shut up and find a tree." Sal placed kangaroos inside the new enclosure. Then, he put a penguin inside the kangaroo exhibit. Chaos ensued.

"Did that penguin kill that kangaroo?" Russell asked.

"I wasn't expecting that. I just thought it would be funny to put a penguin in with a bunch of kangaroos."

"The guests are hungry." Russell pointed towards the notifications again. "And want to buy souvenirs."

"The guests can suck it." Sal clicked on one of the guests and placed them in the wolf exhibit. The guest ran around screaming while the wolves chased him. Sal smiled sadistically. Russell laughed.

They continued playing Zoo Simulator 5 in a similar manner, and Russell found himself having more fun than he'd had in a long time. When was the last time he even hung out with another person? And it was Sal, of all people, that he was having fun with. For a while, he forgot he was supposed to hate him.

And then Russell's phone rang. Probably his mother, given the clock now read 5:32. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. No, not his mother.

His father.

"Oh shoot!" Russell said aloud. He picked up, and walked towards the farthest end of the room. "Hello?"

"Where are you? You were supposed to be home ten minutes ago!"

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time. We're almost-"

"That's not acceptable. You know better. Your mother has dinner waiting."

"I'm sorry."

"She works hard to cook for you, and this is how you repay her? By showing up late? You are so irresponsible and have no appreciation-"

"I know, I'm sorry! I'm on my way."

"Don't interrupt-"

But Russell had already hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He hurriedly shoved his things in his backpack. "I'm sorry, I have to go home now. My parents are gonna kill me." He flung both straps over his shoulders. "I can't stay another second!"

"You apologize too much," Sal said, following Russell down the stairs.

If only he knew what it was like having parents like his.

"Dinner's ready," Brenda said when they got downstairs. "Russell, you're welcome to stay."

"No, thank you," Russell said, barely glancing at her. "My parents want me home."

On the way to his car, Sal asked him a surprising question.

"Are you overreacting about getting in trouble, or are you going to be in actual trouble?"

"What?" Russell looked at him with a scrunched brow. "What kind of question is that?"

"The way you've been acting since you got that call. It's like you're going to get smacked around."

"I can assure you, my parents have never 'smacked me around.'" Russell opened his car door and tossed his backpack on the passenger's seat. "It's just that I, unlike you, respect my parents."

But that was the wrong thing to say. "You know nothing about my parents," Sal hissed between gritted teeth. "And I don't care how much fun I had tonight. I still hate you!" With that, Sal turned around and ran back inside, leaving Russell alone with his confused thoughts.

On his way home, Russell remembered they hadn't even started their assignment. "Now I'm going to have to do all the work," he said to himself, biting his thumbnail. As if he didn't feel terrible enough for forgetting to come home in time for dinner. Like he promised.