Free Out of Position by Kyell Gold

knowledge of sex is purely theoretical, and he’s so straight you could calibrate a ruler to him. He’s utterly bemused by the concept of any non-traditional relationship. I wrote a gay couple into the script and I think he still thinks they’re ‘just good friends.’” I pause for effect. “The kiss did give him a little pause.”
    The ringtail leans his elbows on the table while I take another few bites. He waits until I look up to see his stare and accompanying smirk. “Well then, who is your new ‘good friend’?”
    I take a long time to chew my food. “Why?” I say. “Tired of hitting on all these guys and anxious to meet someone new?”
    Allen arches an eyebrow. “Well, if he’s up to the famous Lee standard, then he must be something to see. And we’re all curious to see who could’ve held your attention for more than a month.”
    I grin back. “See, even if I were dating someone, why would I bring them into the house of a thousand daggers here?” I’m playing a double game, here, not confirming the existence of my friend and not mentioning a gender intentionally.
    “Only five hundred daggers when you’re not around.” Jake claps me on the shoulder.
    “And when you keep yours sheathed,” I say. “Really, I’m gonna try to make it to more meetings from now on.”
    “Cool,” Daniel says, and pushes his plate away.
    “Oh, come on,” Liz says, pushing it back. “You better finish that or I’ll have Jake hold you while I force it down your throat.”
    “I dunno,” Allen says, “He’s looking a little chubby around the cheeks.”
    “Allen!” Jake says.
    “Fat city,” I chime in, and Jake mock-threatens me as Liz glares at Allen, Daniel looks worried, and Salim chuckles. “Don’t listen to them,” Liz says, “just eat.”
    The raccoon looks doubtful, but takes a few more bites. We watch until he scowls at us.
    “Hey,” Allen says after a minute, “you know, Brian’s gonna be in town next weekend. We’re having a little party over at our place. You should come, Lee.”
    “Can’t,” I say. “I’m going out of town.” I’m sure Brian told him that, and his attempt at a guileless smile confirms it. “Oh? Where to?”
    “I’m going up to Giancolo to frolic in the snow,” I say blandly.
    “Well, you can still come, Salim,” Allen says.
    Salim nods his head towards me. “I’m giving the fox a ride.”
    “Oh, is that how it is?”
    “Not that kind of ride,” I say.
    The humor falls rather flat. Allen looks back at me, and I can see the thoughts in his head: he’ll tell Salim, but not me. I feel pretty confident that he can’t get to the truth from where he is. Nor can Jake or Liz, who are both looking a little puzzled. But they give up quickly. Allen keeps staring at me, turning my words over in his head, searching for that one clue that will unlock the vulpine mystery.
    Daniel looks up from his plate at the silence, his black mask turning back and forth. “What?”
    “Ah, nothing,” Allen says. He leans back in his chair. “Same old same old, eh, Lee?”
    I flick my ears. “Why change now?” I give him my best foxy grin, and he grins back.
    “Swear to God,” Jake says, “I don’t know how you two stayed in the same room without ripping out each other’s fur.”
    “That only happened the one time,” I say, and Allen giggles, breaking the tension. I finish up my dinner and we head off to the meeting.
    The FLAG meeting is being run by some business school polar bear named Keith, whose immaculate fur and diction are what we seniors snicker about in the back of the room. Allen joins us, making remarks about how glad he is that he didn’t run for president. Back when Jake was running it, it had a friendlier vibe, and the meetings had a social component. Now it’s all business, with no room for our comradely ribbing.
    Our little group goes out to Kitteridge’s for coffee afterwards, as usual. We sit around until nearly midnight catching up on gossip. The