Sally Boy by P. Vincent DeMartino Page B

hooting and hollering from the excitement of the
fight and their over-indulgence in alcohol. As they strolled past
the unconscious party crashers, many spit on them, while others
fired disparaging remarks about the three and their mothers.
    Seeing Nicole standing on the sidewalk
holding his jacket, Sal approached her. “Are you okay?”
    “I should be asking you that.” Nicole smiled
as she handed him back his coat.
    “I’m okay.”
    Taking Sal’s hand, Nicole whispered softly,
“Let’s go back inside.”
    “Nicole, I really don’t want to.”
    “Why? Did I do something wrong?” she asked
sounding concerned.
    “Oh, no,” Sal said, torn. “It’s just
everybody’s gonna be mobbing us for the rest of the night. All
they’re gonna wanna do is talk about the fight. We’re not gonna
have any time to be alone. I was thinking maybe we could get outta
here?”
    “What did you have in mind?” Nicole asked
shyly.
    “We could go back to my house. My Pop won’t
be home for hours. We could hang out in my room. Listen to music.
Talk. I just wanna spend some time alone with you. So what do you
say?”
    “That sounds nice.”
    “Yeah. That’s great!”
    “Sal, did you really mean what you said to
me before?”
    “About what?”
    Rising up onto her tippy-toes, Nicole
whispered something in his ear.
    Sal smiled. “Of course I did.”
    Nicole’s face lit up and she let out a sexy,
high-pitched scream. “Let’s go!”
    Taking her hand, Sal and Nicole discreetly
wandered away from the party. As they searched for their friend to
congratulate him on his victory, Mikey and Anthony saw Sal moving
down the street with Nicole.
    “Where the fuck are they going?” Mikey asked
jealously.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Hey Sal, where the hell are you going? The
party’s inside,” Mikey shouted through cupped hands.
    “Yeah, I know. Have a good time,” Sal
hollered back.
    “Damn! Why can’t that be me?” Anthony said
enviously.
    “What a lucky fucking bastard. Let’s get
back inside. It’s always easier to get into a girl’s pants after a
fight, anyways.”
    “That was a good fight Mike, huh?”
    “It was pretty good. I’ve seen better.”
    As they walked toward Frankie’s house, the
two occasionally glanced at their friend and Nicole strolling down
the street. Finally, Sal and Nicole turned the corner at the end of
the block and disappeared.
     
    * * * * *
     
CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    The morning sun shone on Sal’s face through
the partially open drapes of his bedroom window. Opening his eyes,
Sal was delighted to find Nicole sleeping next to him, her head
softly resting on his chest. After sliding off the covers, Sal
gently lifted her arm from his body and set it on the mattress. He
then slithered out from under Nicole’s head, easing it onto a
pillow, and crawled out of the bed, careful not to wake her.
    Checking the scratches on his neck from his
scuffle with Sonny in the mirror, Sal whispered boastfully, “I
kicked that punk’s ass good.” After adjusting his crucifix so he
could admire the hickeys on his neck, Sal turned and gazed at the
angel asleep in his bed. “She deserves to be with me anyway.”
    Treading softly to his bedroom door, Sal
stepped out of the room and quietly closed it behind him. As Sal
strolled into the kitchen in his underwear, he was surprised to
find his father sitting at the table dressed in his customary
dapper apparel, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper.
    “How you doing, Pop?” Sal cheerfully
inquired pouring himself a cup.
    “What time did you get in?” Peter asked
licking his thumb to turn the page.
    “Pretty late, it was a good party.”
    “Yeah, yeah.”
    “It’s kinda early for you to be up, Pop. You
going somewhere?”
    Briefly Peter’s eyes shifted from the paper
onto his son. “Not that it’s any of your business. But yeah, I
gotta take carea some things. There’s a letter for you over there
on the counter.
    Sal picked it up. “It looks