The Ophys snuffled the quietest laugh and shrugged. “Don’t reckon I could say either way.”
On their way to campus, their group filled half the tram, and Cya blinked in surprise when Abi, not Yve or Hemersyn, slid into the seat beside them. He glanced at them from the corner of his eye as he snapped one of his armbands against his wrist in a sharp, rhythmicslap, slap, slap.
As the tram lurched into traffic, he unlocked his phone, then held it out for them to take. Hesitantly, they did, glancing down at his screen. It was a web-page advertisement for a workshop space in Lust.
“I heard you needed a workshop for your jewelry,” Abi said, voice soft, accent thick and drawling. “I’ve been renting out a real tiny room in that same building, ’cause I can’t afford nothing bigger by myself. Figured we could split the space, split the rent? If you wanted. It’s no big deal if, you know, it ain’t what you’re looking for.”
He snapped his armbands quicker and avoided eye contact, his pink, hairless tail curled tightly around one leg. Black, fuzzy ears flicked, and his pointed nose twitched, whiskers trembling.
“Wow, I’m… I’m a bit speechless, to be honest,” they said.
“You can think about it. That space has been empty a while. Imagine it’ll stay empty a bit longer.”
“How did you…” They drifted off as the Ophys sent them a brief, wry smile.
“Just ’cause I don’t talk much, don’t mean I ain’t listening.”
With a nod, they scrolled through the pictures of the workshop. It was shockingly spacious with lots of natural light and windows they could open to let in the breeze. If they split the rent, Cya could probably afford it.
“I need to check my budget,” they said, a bit grudgingly, and the corner of his mouth lifted again. “But this would be… Well, it would be just wonderful. Thank you, Abi.”
His shoulders wobbled in a quasi-shrug as he took his phone back. “It ain’t completely altruistic. I benefit too.”
“Still, it’s very thoughtful. Can you send me the link, please? I’d like Hemersyn to see it.”
“Sure. We can walk through it together, if you like. And you can bring your dad too.”
His casual inference that Hemersyn was Cya’s father made them almost as happy as the possibility of having a workshop again.
“I’d like that very much.”
“Cool.”
Curiosity piqued, they asked, “Do you make jewelry too?”
He shook his head, and when he didn’t elaborate further, they nodded awkwardly and looked out the window. Knuckles brushed their arm a minute later, and they turned back to find the Ophys offering them his phone again. It was open to a photo album full of glass sculptures. Some were more realistic, others entirely abstract shapes. The pieces were made of vivid color and glass of varying opacities.
“Deities, Abi, it’s beautiful.”
Ducking his head, he squeaked in pleasure, his mouth spreading in a shy smile. “Thanks.”
“Where did you learn this?”
“Grandad taught me.”
“It’s lovely. You’re very talented.” They admired his work as he released another delighted chirp. “I imagine you do need more work space for this.”
“The furnaces make my current room real warm.” He tucked his phone away in his pocket again. “It’ll make our workshop pretty hot.”
As a Sypent, Cya ran cold, so heat never bothered them. “I don’t mind. My rock tumblers can be loud.”
“I don’t mind,” he echoed, and their tail rattled gently in excitement.
The rest of the tram ride passed in comfortable silence, and by the time they arrived at the university, Abi had relaxed into his seat enough that his clothed elbow pressed to theirs. It shouldn’t have felt like a win, but it did all the same.
The P.U. campus was teeming with people, everyone heading to the main stadium, where the field was larger and grander than the one the team trained on. Wearing Dex’s jersey with his number and last name, Cya led their large procession of supporters to a spot on the bleachers, close to the front, that Dex had reserved for them. Ellyn and Jasmyn arrived a few minutes before the game started, and Cya scooted over so Jasmyn could sit beside them as Ellyn settled between them and Hemersyn.
An announcer boomed a welcome to everyone in the stands, then started introducing the first-string players. When it was Dex’s turn, Cya—along with everyone else in their group—stood and cheered for him. Walking backwards, he waved and fist-pumped in their direction. He even blew Cya a kiss, making them blush fiercely, before he turned and jogged to meet the rest of his team waiting on the field.
