“Ever since I was a child, all I did was read,” I explain. I lean back in my chair and place my hands together, you can’t be fidgeting in an interview. “All I had was what my mother read when I was younger. I used to read all of her books until she started taking me to the library to get me my own books,” I reminisce as Teddy leans forward in his chair, his chair creaking beneath him.
“What kind of genres are you into?” Teddy asks, adjusting his watch. It looks expensive.
“Mainly Contemporary Romance and Fantasy,” I tell him, and he writes that down. Not sure if that’s noteworthy for an interview, but he does it anyway.
“Same here, honestly. I read some self-help books from time to time too,” he says. He moves a pencil that’s lying out into a wooden pencil holder. I notice neat stacks of paperwork sitting on the edge of his desk. His desk is pretty organised.
“I could never get into those, actually,” I say, thinking about the piles of self-help books I still haven’t gotten around to reading. Mum bought most of them. She was trying to help me with my anxiety. I’m not sure why I couldn’t get into them; maybe it’s because they’ve never helped me.
“So you might have gathered that this is a queer bookshop, so do you read a lot of queer fiction?” He asks as he places his pen down.
“Yeah, to be honest, Ionlyread queer fiction. I just relate to it more.”
“Yeah, same here,” he says, which makes me smile. I feel butterflies in my stomach when Teddy smiles back.
Was he happy I liked guys?
Okay, maybe I’m reading too much into it.
Teddy looks at me again. He looks like he’s trying to figure me out, which is scary. I don’t want him to knoweverythingabout me, because then he’ll run away. I don’t want to ruin a good thing.
But then he smiles.
“I’d like to offer you the job, Noah,” he says.
“Really?” We stand up to shake hands. I think we’re doing this handshake to make up for the total lack of professionalism the interview had. It really was just two friends talking. His handshake is firm, his skin soft.
The handshake is over as quickly as it started. My hand yearns for warmth again.
“So, I just have like a bunch of onboarding paperwork for you to do now, um… sorry,” he says, giving me an apologetic smile.
I rush backto Kai’s Apartment. I run up the rusty stairs, skipping a step at a time. I open the door, and there he is, painting yellow swirls onto a canvas.
“Someone looks cheery,” Kai observes. He places the paintbrush down and waits for me to tell my story.
“Bro, I met him again.”
“Who are you talking about… bro?”
“You know who… like ahhh!” I start jumping up and down with excitement, small squeals escaping me. Kai stands up and shakes my shoulders. My smile is wide and bright.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Train boy!” I shout. I dive into the story of how I visited the bookstore, and then he interviewed me. Then how awesome he was, and how I’m planning our wedding now, and also what Kai should wear to the wedding.
“Wait, so you have a job now?”
I nod.
“And he’s your boss.”
I nod again.
“And he’s like super hot?”
I nod twice.
“Why is your life like a movie? I have worse luck than… I don’t know what’s the opposite of a leprechaun?”
