“Well, that certainly reduced my entire life to a few sentences of what-the-fuck.”

The scarf flutters around her face. “He’s straight, darling. You’re gay. He’s your best friend. Or at least he was. You were like brothers. He did love you, but not in the way that you would have wanted.”

“But Bear didn’t come out until—”

“I love Bear,” she interrupts, “to death. Don’t get me wrong. But it doesn’t surprise me he had no idea about how he was gay until it was blaring right in front of him. He’s not always the quickest on the uptake. Wait. Is he gay? Bi? What?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t think anyone really knows. It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s got Otter and that’s all he’ll need. It’s sickening. Really.”

Kori grins at me. “Bullshit. You love it.”

“Yeah.” Because I do.

“But you’re not just gay for someone,” Kori says. “That’s not really how the real world works. Life isn’t some romance novel, no matter how hard we might wish it so.”

I sigh. “It’d sure make things easier, though.”

“Well, sure, and we’d all be well-endowed, have six-pack abs, high-paying jobs, and perfect teeth. We’d all go on quirky adventures, and in the end, everything would turn out right because that’s the way it should be.”

“I’m well-endowed,” I say.

Kori snorts. “Above average, I’d say.”

“I think I had an ab. Once.”

“Most likely a bout of gas, darling.”

“I’ll have a high-paying job.”

“Mired under piles of mounting credit-card debt.”

“Perfect teeth?”

“You’ve got that one crooked one that is so very endearing, but doesn’t know if it’s coming or going.”

“We’re going on a quirky adventure right now,” I conclude.

Kori sighs. “Dragging me to a protest over a new restaurant is not what I would consider quirky.”

“There’ll be hippies,” I say, as if hippies make everything better. In truth, they were the only ones who responded to my post on the underground vegetarian message boards I’m a part of. The group (one of many, I assure you) is called Don’t Eat Animals, Dammit! or DEAD! for short. I know. It’s the most ridiculous name in the history of activism. But they’re the only ones this far west.

“If you think hippies are supposed to be a bargaining chip,” she tells me, “then you seriously need to work on your negotiating tactics. I chipped a nail making your hilarious protest signs.”

“Hilarious? They’re not supposed to be hilarious! They’re supposed to be serious!”

She laughs. “Okay, sure. Keep telling yourself that. I’m sure carrying a sign that says ‘Do You Want A Side Of Lies With Your Burger?’ is meant to be taken with a straight face.”

“That’s not funny! It’s a clever play on words that brings to light the injustice of beef farming that plagues this country! You’re being force fed untruths on a daily basis. The beef industry wants you to believe that—”

“Tyson.”

“What!”

“Have you ever asked yourself why God made cows so delicious if we weren’t supposed to eat them?”