Isolation Play (Dev and Lee) by Kyell Gold

afternoon.”
    I glance at the pack as we walk out. “That crap’s no good for you.”
    He holds the cigarette in his paw, and turns toward the front door. “Gets me through the day,” he says, and raises his paw in salute as he leaves.
    Around quarter to twelve, Alex asks if I want to go to lunch. “Tomorrow,” I say. “I’m meeting some friends.” It’s easier to lie than to say, “I want some time alone to think.”
    He scratches behind his ear. “Didn’t know you had friends.”
    “ Sure, just most of them are imaginary.” I look at the empty air to my right. “Isn’t that right, Harvey?”
    Alex snorts and rubs his long ears. “Tomorrow’s double patty day at Jeffrey’s.”
    “ I’m there. Hey, if you’re leaving now, I’ll walk out with you.”
    Outside, the wind’s picked up, biting at my nose. Alex folds his long ears down. “What do you think of Miski?”
    “ I think it’s great,” I say. “About fucking time.”
    “ I mean, you think he’s gonna last?”
    I think about that one, my eyes narrowed to slits against the wind. “He’s gotta be pretty tough to come out the way he did. I think he’ll last.”
    “ Bet he gets injured before the end of the season.”
    I turn to look at him. He’s peering ahead into the wind, same as I am, bouncing the way rabbits do. “Everyone gets injured.”
    “ Yeah, but I bet someone knocks him out of a game.”
    Instinct overrides thought. “You’re on. Bet you a lunch?”
    We shake on it. He goes into Wrap Party, a fast-food place that does good veggie wraps, while I head down to Barlow’s, a slightly more upscale place where you have to sit down to get lunch.
    “ Just one,” I tell the squirrel at the hostess’s desk. She guides me to a small two-person table by the windows, removes one of the place settings, and leaves me alone with my thoughts and a menu. I order a glass of white wine and a Cajun chicken sandwich, which is sure to be as Cajun as I am straight.
    The columns that appeared that morning from Dev’s interviews were what I would expect from sports media: neutral to favorable, interested in his story, talking about how hard it is for gay athletes these days. The comments were about what I would have expected from the sports fan base: by and large, gay people and Chevali fans are supportive. A few assholes are assholes. And there was a comment that read, “I know his dad, sucks to be him.”
    Which makes me think again about visiting Dev’s parents. It just seems like a disaster waiting to happen. I’m the intruder, the symbol of everything they think is “wrong” with their son. I don’t know what I’m most worried about: his parents freezing me out, or Dev getting upset when we don’t magically get along, or me losing it when they make some bullshit conservative remark. I’ll keep a lid on my temper, but it won’t be easy if we’re there longer than a day or two.
    It’ll hurt Dev if we don’t leave on better terms than when we arrive. Hell, it hurts him just knowing I’m on the outs with my parents, no matter how much I tell him I don’t mind it. I respect his attachment to his parents, whether or not I understand it. That’s why I’m still going to go along with him to his parents’ place, despite all my misgivings. I’ll be on my best behavior, and I’ll figure out a way to make it work.
    My fur itches with the idea that I should reach out to my parents to try to get some insight into what to say or what not to say to Dev’s parents. This is important to Dev, and therefore to me. But I can’t bring myself to get out the phone. Father would be drily snide. Mother...I can’t even imagine what she’d say to me.
    Halfway through the glass of wine, my thoughts are going around in circles. At least a lunch with Alex would have been a distraction. I fish around in my bag for my notebook, to go through my list of players again, and as I pull it out, a business card flutters to the ground.
    Hal Kinnel’s