Places With No Carpet

Chapter 2

Tharn saw Type for the first time when they were both freshmen at Columbia University. It was one of those fall days in Manhattan that's almost too perfect to be real: a breeze coming east from the Hudson and ruffling through the trees, the sun gleaming off the buildings, no smell of smog, late summer flowers still blooming, attractive college students all around...

Tharn leaned on his best friend's shoulder and eyed the people walking by. "I think I'm gonna like college," he said, smirking.

"You do know that statistically, only a percentage of those guys are going to be gay, right?" Lhong elbowed Tharn, making him back off.

"Don't harsh my joy," Tharn said. "Besides, I know you'll figure out which ones are gay or bi, thus saving a lot of time."

Lhong put a hand to his heart dramatically. "I knew it! You're just using me for my investigative skills!"

"You mean being the queen of gossip wherever you go."

Lhong shrugged.

Tharn had been planning to say something else. He'd definitely had some more teasing in mind, but his eye was caught by three guys walking down the sidewalk. Or more specifically, by the taller one, clearly an athlete in his Columbia U t-shirt and shorts, holding a soccer ball. His shorts weren't nearly short enough for Tharn's taste, but the guy was obviously well-built and there something about his face...he was grinning at his friends and Tharn wanted that expression turned on him.

"Tharn!"

"Hmm?" Tharn looked at Lhong, before looking back at the soccer player.

"Which one?" Lhong asked, scanning the passing crowds.

"The one holding the soccer ball. Who is he?"

Lhong snorted. "Classes haven't even started yet and you think I know everyone?"

Tharn just waited as the three guys got close to them, likely heading east toward Central Park.

"Fine." Lhong huffed. "I know who he is. His name is Type and he's expected to join the soccer team as a freshman. The other two are friends of his, but I don't know their names."

"There's something you don't know?" Tharn teased as he watched Type walk away.

"Gimme a week." Lhong poked at Tharn. "Really? You've already got your eye on him?"

"Mmm, yeah."

Lhong did track down some additional information over the next few days. Type was probably bi, although he'd only dated one guy in high school. He was an earth and environmental sciences major and could be found playing soccer when he wasn't in class. Tharn managed to watch a few practices and perv on Type's legs, which were absolutely perfect, but he hadn't figured out how to meet him casually.

Classes ramped up quickly for Tharn and he cursed his brilliant idea to double major in music and political science, which had him running between Dodge Hall and the International Affairs building seemingly every hour. He really hoped that next semester his schedule wasn't such a clusterfuck.

The only bright side was that International Affairs was across Amsterdam Ave. from Schermerhorn Hall, where Type apparently had a class Tuesdays and Thursdays, because Tharn sometimes glimpsed him coming out along with classmates.

"Oh my god," Lhong said over a milkshake. "You're a stalker!"

"I'm not!" Tharn replied automatically, before slumping down in his seat and poking at the pizza crust on his plate. "Maybe."

"Just walk up to him and say 'hi.'"

"Hi, I've been staring at you from the bushes for a month now. Wanna grab a coffee?"

Sighing, Lhong flicked some milkshake off his straw at Tharn. "Maybe not like that. What happened to smooth Tharn who can charm the pants off any guy in an hour or less?"

"I don't know," Tharn said mournfully.

He had plans on how he was going to approach Type and be cool and smooth and somehow his plans were always stymied by real life. Too many people and too many classes and family obligations...it was never quite the right time.

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The last time Tharn saw Type at Columbia was just before mid-terms in their first semester. It was fairly late in the evening and Tharn was walking down Amsterdam past Schermerhorn, heading toward the campus gate a block south, when he heard a weird noise on the other side of the fence.

He peered through the tall wrought-iron fence to see someone stagger away from a doorway. It was a student, tall, his arms wrapped around his stomach. It looked like he was sick, maybe. Tharn took an automatic step forward before realizing he was on the wrong side of the fence and would have to get to the gate and double back.

As the student went under a lamp, he lifted his head to look around. It was Type and he'd unmistakably been crying. Tharn was about to call out to him, but two other figures rushed toward him from the center of campus. It was his friends, Techno and Champ.

"Hey, we're here," Techno gasped as he grabbed Type's arm. "It's okay."

As Tharn stood helpless, arm outstretched, the two of them quickly guided Type away into the shadowy campus. After a moment, he ran for the gate, but by the time he'd made it through, they were nowhere to be seen.

Lhong learned that within days, Type had withdrawn from school, leaving behind a full scholarship, but he never did figure out why. Techno and Champ weren't talking and nobody else seemed to know anything.

Tharn had mostly forgotten about Type in the remaining years of college, although he occasionally wondered what had happened to him.

So, years later, when he entered the bar that he co-owned and noted that the new bartender Thanya had hired was working that evening, it wasn't until he passed by him to head into the backroom that he realized how familiar the face was.

Inertia kept him walking through the swinging door before Type caught him staring like he'd seen a ghost. When he'd reached the other side, he leaned against a wall and caught his breath. How the hell had the slim kid he'd crushed on freshman year grown up so hot? And why was he bartending? Where had he been? What happened to him to make him disappear?

Banging his head against the wall, Tharn told himself he didn't have any right to demand answers to those questions. Type didn't even know who he was. It would look creepy as fuck to start talking to him now as if they knew each other.

Tharn would play it cool. He'd find a way to get to know Type naturally.