Places With No Carpet

Chapter 4

Another week went by and everything was settling into a new normal.

Type had a few hours free before his next shift but he didn't feel like sitting in his room. It was chilly in the living room, so he grabbed his notes from his literature class, going to the window seat, where the sun coming through made it warm. Notes propped on his knees, he tried to absorb the details of the Langston Hughes poem they'd been assigned.

Deep in his attempt to come up with something novel or interesting to say about "Mother and Son", he was surprised by the sound of the door opening. When Tharn came around the corner, he blinked at the sight of Type, his expression unreadable.

"Er, sorry," Type said, fumbling his pen as he tried to stand. "I'll go back to—"

"No, it's okay." Tharn dropped his briefcase by the dining room table. "Really, you look comfortable. I haven't used that seat much. Someone should."

"Oh." Slowly, Type sat back down and picked his pen up off the floor and settling back into the seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tharn walking toward him.

"You read poetry?"

Type looked up, ready to bite back at the comment, but saw only honest interest, rather than surprise or smug amusement. "Not usually," he admitted. "But this literature class fit my work schedule and let me get a core class out of the way, so..."

"You're in college."

"About a third of the way through a program at CCNY. They have this thing called the Center for Worker Education that's really flexible." Type fiddled with his pen.

"Good for you." Tharn smiled. "Please tell me that Prime is helping you take classes."

"Yeah, actually. It's why I took the job. It's not a lot of money, but it's a little bit for every credit hour and it adds up."

"Oh good." Tharn feigned relief. "I'm glad I don't have to yell at my sister."

Type couldn't help smiling. "Definitely not."

"So it's an undergrad degree?"

"Yeah, in urban studies. I started college but..." Type stared down at the floor. "I left pretty quickly."

"I know."

"What?" Type looked up at him, brows furrowed.

"I started at Columbia at the same time you did. I remember seeing you play soccer." Was Tharn actually blushing?

"You...what?" Type stared.

"You wouldn't remember me," Tharn said hastily. "I liked watching soccer. Well, soccer players," he said.

Now it was Type's turn to blush. "Oh. Um."

"I was getting up the nerve to ask you out, in fact." Tharn looked...nervous? Type had seen him in all kinds of work and home situations and he radiated cool.

"Me?"

"Yeah. But time got away from me and you were gone."

"Wait, you've known that the whole time I worked here?"

"Mmm. There never seemed to be a non-creepy time to say that, so..."

"And you think this is a non-creepy time?"

Tharn winced. "Thorn and Thanya agree with you, if that helps. I just didn't want to hide it and create a misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?" Type crossed his arms and waited.