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"So," she said from across the table, voice kept deliberately low. "You gonna tell me what happened? Or are you gonna have me guess?"

Story about that. She's not entirely_straight. Bisexual, or pansexual, or something - or heteroflexible, at least. We'd known each other for several years now, since at least as far back as middle school. I think it was a math class we shared together, or maybe history... whatever; the teacher of that particular class was a great fan and proponent of group and partner assignments, and because we sat next to each other and seemed to get along, were always paired together. Of course we were both a little reluctant at first (really, who actually _likes hearing "we're doing a group assignment today"?) but quickly became friends and got to know each other... and about halfway through high school, she came out to me by making me guess what she had done over the weekend with a female friend of hers.

When it was my turn to come out to her, she had stopped me in my tracks and - "let me guess", she'd said...

"Oh, jeez. It's..." I rolled my pencil around between my fingers, then lost my hold on it. It clattered to the desk and rolled a short distance along the angled surface. "It's something."

"Well, of course it's something. You wouldn't have come to me about it otherwise, would you?"

I don't know when it exactly started where we relied on each other for good, solid advice on things that we often didn't trust other friends with. This thing, this whole damn thing with Harley and William, wasn't something I'd even consider mentioning to Alex. Sure, I sometimes felt kind of weird mentioning things to her, but never regretted it in the end. I'd come to really know and trust her face, sleek black fur appearing almost blue along her muzzle in some lighting.

She was a panther. In case I forgot to mention that. Has been all her life.

"Jeez, I... I'm not even sure where to start."

We sat next to each other in the same row; unlike some of my other classes, this one took place in a more traditional classroom instead of a huge lecture hall. We had actual individual desks, and upon hearing our assignment for today - "get with your partner and work on your report" - we had all split up and went to our respective corners. This 'report' was supposed to be on some obscure piece of poetry pulled from the internet, and I had it printed out in front of me and had looked over it a few times. However, none of the lines, none of the words stuck in my mind.

There was another slight change in her voice. "Then start at the beginning."

That was easy enough. "So I have a boyfriend, right?"

She slammed her paw down against the desk, fast enough to surprise me. "You're gay?"

...and when I looked at her, the first thing to catch my attention was the bright white of her sharp-toothed grin amid midnight fur. I just rolled my eyes.

"We've been together for... jeez, I dunno. Four years? About? I don't know. It's been a while, and I... I'd like to think that we're doing pretty good. You know? Hanging out with him makes me happy..." Sometimes. "...and it chills me out..." Sometimes. "...and, like - I enjoy being with him..." Sometimes.

"Okay. I think I know where this is going." She scooted a little closer to me, dropping her pen to her desk. As we had been speaking, she'd doodle a little flower in the corner of her paper. "This is gonna be a little personal, but it's nothing we haven't talked about before. When you paw off - who often do you most think of?"

That was something I had to think about. Honestly, there were... so many: past partners, hopeful future partners, hopeful-future-partners-turned-current-partners (though right now, any thought involving that coyote brought a cold wave of guilt across my heart), fantasy partners. She must have noticed that I was taking a while to respond.

"Okay, okay, lemme rephrase that. How often is he the one in your head?"

"Sometimes." That was easy. "Probably... three times?"

Her brow furrowed. "Three times... a week? A day? A month?"

"No, just... three times. Total." And one of them had been in the bathroom earlier this week - which had soon switched courses to someone else... "Is... is that bad?"

"No, of course not. Whatever - whoever - you think about when you do that is your business. It's your you-time. Y'know? Okay, next question." Her chair squeaked a little as she shifted her weight, leaning forward on the desk - and again, she lowered her voice and leaned in. "Do you ever think about me?"

"Zoey!"

"Kidding, kidding! Half-kidding. Anyway - continue. You have a boyfriend... so? Thinking about breaking up, thinking about proposing or something, what? You preggo?"

On any other day, under any other circumstances, her trademark personality would make me feel better. With this, though... as the day had gone on, the guilt only deepened. It only felt worse. I dug one of my claws into the wood of my pencil and glared at her. "This is serious."

"Okay! Okay. Jeez. Still haven't told me what it is that's bothering you - you know I can't help you if I dunno what I'm supposed to be helping, Danny."

"I... okay, well..." Impossibly charismatic muzzle, bright smile, emerald-green eyes popped into my head. Seeing those eyes glitter in what light came in through the window after the power had gone out, seeing those eyes look into mine, seeing those eyes squeeze shut in pleasure and exertion... "There's this - other guy."

"Oh, jeez. Don't tell me."

"Yeah." I lowered my head down to my desk, the cool surface smooth and hard against my chin through my fur. I was hoping that everything I'd heard about this sort of thing would be true, that talking about it would make it feel better... but, if anything, it just solidified in my heart that it really did happen, and ended up making me feel a little worse. "I just... I don't know. It seemed like a good idea before, you know? It was... like, it was exciting. When I was thinking about him, when we were - doing it, I... I hadn't been that turned on in a _long_time. I-"

"Okay. I have my first piece of advice for you."

Without lifting my head, I half-turned to look at her. "You do?"

But Zoey wasn't about to let me continue slouching like that. Next thing I knew, sharp panther claws were grabbing my shoulders and forcing me up to look her in the eye, face-to-face. She leaned in close, close enough that would count as 'uncomfortably so' were this not Zoey. The look I saw on her muzzle, that one of mixed exasperation and concern, wasn't unfamiliar in the slightest; I knew I did a lot of things that she thought to be stupid. That was probably part of why she wanted to help me out so often. "Daniel, you need to stop lying to yourself."

My ears flattened down against my head. I had to put quite a bit of effort into consciously forcing them back up. "What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're a good guy. You wouldn't - cheat on your boyfriend knowing that it would hurt him, unless he'd _done_something to piss you off. Actually - does he know?"

"What? No! This just..." I swallowed. "Just happened last night."

She clearly hadn't been expecting that. After another few seconds, she released my shoulders, and sat back. "That recently, huh? Here I was, thinking you'd been sitting on this for a while..." Her lips flashed a small smile. "'Scuse me. Here I was, thinking you'd been sitting on him for a while. Yeah? Eh, sorry, serious... how do you _really_feel about William, and your relationship with him?"

Just like before, I knew how I felt. Saying it would just make it seem more concrete, like a problem that needed to be dealt with. But, somewhere within my heart, I knew that it was... though even with this, I couldn't really do it. "He's..." I sighed. "Annoying, sometimes. He invites himself over, without first checking if I'm available or if I'm even home, and then he sometimes gets angry if I tell him I'm not up to the company, or unable for it or anything... and, like, he can't accept ever being wrong. You know?"

"We all get that sometimes, Danny."

"No, I mean - when he is wrong, when he's very obviously, clearly wrong, like if he said something incorrect, instead of saying 'oh, yeah, I'm wrong', he'll instead say something like 'that's what I meant' or 'yeah, you misheard me, that's what I said.'"

"You said 'sometimes', but - how often does this happen?"

As I went on, I could feel the frustration bubble up in my chest, like an electric warmth gradually making me jittery. There was no hope in being able to focus on the assignment now. "And not only that, but I - I feel like he prioritizes himself during sex. Like, sure, after I finish I usually don't have the energy or desire to go on, but I still do sometimes for him, right? That's the right thing to do. I haven't had the patience for it recently, though. Not when - when he'll come over, have me ride him, and then leave, like that's all he came over to do..."

"Daniel..."

I rested my other paw on the desk, trying not to clench that paw into a fist. "And he doesn't listen. Sometimes I'm freaking out over some assignment or something, or I'm worried about something or another, and I'll send him some texts asking for help or advice, and - what does he respond with? "This one time I-" or maybe "Have you tried not being worried?" or something like that, something totally unhelpful like he - like he doesn't think it's worth the effort to actually _try_to make things better-"

It was Zoey's paw closing around mine that got me to stop, though. This was something I'd felt before, this deliberate, comforting warmth of hers - honestly one of the best forms of help that each of us could offer to the other. After another second, I swallowed again, and turned my head back to her. Her round ears had angled back, and her whiskers hung down.

"Look, Daniel..." she began, maintaining a more even and serious tone of voice. When I'd called Harley a few nights ago, and told him about my first relationship, that hadn't gone too well... I'd left out the part about how I had to call Zoey twice in the same week, to have her help me calm down from anxiety attacks. Mom was convinced that she was my girlfriend, after how often she came over following that. "I'm gonna tell you what I think, just from that. Okay?"

Breathe in, breathe out. There was a reason I tended not to think about my relationship with William. It was much, much easier to just say oh, yeah, we're doing fine. We're okay. "Yeah."

"Sounds to me, your relationship isn't doing too well, is it?"

"No." This time, the word came easily. "It isn't."

Still she held my paw, fingers wrapped around mine, claw of her thumb digging gently into my wrist. "And you let this - by this I mean all these feelings, both your attraction to this other guy and your frustration at your boyfriend - build up. I know you, Danny, remember? This might sound a little mean, but - sometimes you just overlook these things about yourself: you're not really the kind of person who would... ah... who would intentionally go and mention that conflict. You don't like conflict; you avoid it."

It's easier. It's so, so much easier. "Yeah... I guess so..."

"At least, that's what I think, after being your friend for so long. I saw how you dealt with that time you failed Algebra I in eighth grade, and you didn't tell your mom until the final report card... for two years through high school your student ID was wrong, so you couldn't get lunch, and never through to bring it either - so you just mooched off of me or Alex until your mother finally went and got it fixed for you, because you couldn't bother to do it..."

"Yeah, but, Zoey-"

"Actually, you know why William invites himself over? Part of it might be how you just never say no. I don't think you've ever once said no to me when I wanted to come over, even if I could tell that you weren't feeling up to it. Hell, sometimes I went out of my way to ask during those times-"

"That's rude!"

"Yeah, but then I didn't show up, or if I did it was only to give you a hug or something." She released my paw, and then crossed her arms in front of her chest. "How long have you felt like this, about William? You've been together for, what... four years? Five?"

"Something like that. And, I don't know - we've talked about it once or twice, and he tried to change for the better, but then always forgot about it within a week. So I just gave up."

"And you thought it would be easier to just try to ignore those problems, and avoid the conflict that'd result from bringing them up again. Right?"

Damn. "Something like that. Yeah."

"Okay. So I'm gonna tell you something that I know you already know, and I want you to think about it - okay?"

"Okay..."

Zoey went back to doodling on her paper, tracing a sketchy outline of what might be a cartoon cat... or a dog... or a cow... or a person. It wasn't clear. "Look, Daniel. You're... well. In my opinion, what you did, with cheating on him? You're not exactly in the wrong, but... you're not in the right, either."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean you should've talked it out with William first."

"I tried, Zoey!"

"No, I mean, about - your relationship. Not the problems in it, but the relationship itself. I don't know, and neither do you unless you've already asked: maybe it turns out he's totally OK with you fuckin' around with other people. I don't know. But since you went behind his back and did this, without his knowledge or permission... that highlights deeper problems on your part in the relationship, doesn't it?"

Another deep sigh. At least everyone else in the room remained focused on their own assignments, ensuring that a quiet rumble of conversation was always present in the room. If not for that, I certainly would not feel comfortable talking about this with her in public. Then again, we had spoken about things a lot... less_acceptable in the past, so. Whatever, I guess. This just felt a lot more _real, a lot more intense than all of those usually lighthearted conversations. "You saying 'behind his back' makes it sound like - like I did it maliciously."

"Did you?"

"No! Of course not. I just - really, really_wanted Harley, and I... didn't think about William..." Okay, that wasn't _entirely_true. I clearly remember thinking about him right as that coyote and I were getting into it, and... I remember pushing those thoughts away, telling myself that I _deserved this. "I mean... okay, maybe I didn't-"

"Whoa, wait. Hang on, hang on." Zoey dropped her pen, again, and leaned in, again. She rested her arm across my desk. "Harley? Like - coyote, absent a lot, brightest fuckin' green eyes I've ever seen?"

In response, I leaned back out of her space bubble. "Uh. Yeah? You know him?"

"Dude! Harley is damn hot."

"Oh, you noticed." In my pocket, my phone vibrated. I intentionally ignored it; usually my mind fixes on to the fact that I've got a new message, and not checking it just annoys me more and more... but today, things were different. "What was I supposed to do? And don't you say - 'nothing'. I think you know as well as I do that that's not how your mind works when you're in a situation like I was."

Zoey's ears lowered further. I wasn't _always_the only one out of the two of us to have relationship issues, after all. "Well, okay. What's your plan, then? The thing's already been done, I'm already jealous, and you're worried... so what are you going to do to fix that?"

"What? Fix that?"

"Yeah. Oh, come on, don't act like it's an entirely new concept to you. I know you're the kind of person to keep quiet about shit like this, to just go with the flow and see where it takes you... but this kind of isn't something where you can do that. I'm sorry, Daniel, but... I think you really fucked up, here."

And there it was. This time, even Zoey disapproved. All of my doubt and my guilt kicked my heartbeat so that it pounded against my chest, again and again, and I briefly had to turn my head away and bite onto my pencil. Honestly, I had enough regrets that I could already fill up multiple pages of a notebook, were I to write them down; that feeling of "I wish I could go back, I wish I could change what I did" by now was already as familiar to me as any other. "I guess I'll..."

"Yeah?" Warm eyes looking into mine, when I turned back to her. It was a shade of green different from Harley's bright emerald, something more natural and closer to hazel, closer to brown. "You'll what?"

"Zoey, that's why I wanted to ask _you_about this."

"Oh, come on, man. Just 'cause I've been in your position before, doesn't mean I know any better than you how to deal with it. But - okay, okay. I'll try. First... well, there's the obvious one: put yourself in William's place. How do you think he'll react to this? What if you had asked him first?"

Hah. Ask him. I had asked him if I could mess with someone else once, and... well. That night, I had to put my phone on silent because of the sheer volume of messages that he kept on sending, paragraphs of texts and complaints one after another after another. I didn't even read most of them, actually.

The thing was, though, I'd only asked because I thought he would be okay with it. After all, it wasn't unlike him to tell me about everything he'd like to do with a certain particularly hot guy he passed by. So I just - I assumed, you know? I've never been the kind of person to brag about my fantasies (especially not now, after all that's happened), but after that, I quickly decided that William would not be the person to do it to.

That's part of what I had Zoey for, after all. There just hadn't been enough time since I'd met Harley to talk to her about it. It all happened so, so fast.

I stretched my arms out over my desk and again rested my chin on the cool surface. "That is not a good idea. Last time I asked, he acted like I'd already cheated on him. Was - pissed. I didn't hear the end of it for weeks; I think every day, he asked me if I was still wanting to do that thing with that other guy." I rolled my eyes. "So of course I had to tell him no. God knows what he'd've done if I'd said otherwise."

Zoey paused in thought for a moment. "Okay, then, so - I think it's clear to both of us here that there's some problems you need to work out in your relationship with him. Like, seriously. Or - it's definitely clear to one of us, at least. Which just leads me into my next thing, and I bet you're expecting this... have you spoken to Harley about it? Like, seriously talked with him? I mean - he knew you had a boyfriend, and yet still went through all of this..."

Which is no different than what I did, I realized.

"No."

"Maybe you should do that. Honestly, Danny, there's not much more I can say... I mean, everything I'd tell you to do would just be from myself and my own experiences." She shrugged. "Everyone's different. William's already a lot different than anyone else I know, and not... not all in good ways. Do I think you two are cute together? Sure. Do I think he's right for you?..."

"Zoey..."

"A little less so. But I can't tell you what to do, man - it's your relationship. I just think you need to talk it out with them and come to a decision of your own. Do what you think is right. My own advice, though... can you take me seriously, for once? I've been watching you guys for a while, I've been listening whenever you came to me for help with him, and... well..."

My phone vibrated in my pocket again - and then did so a third time. Since it's not like I was being productive anyway, I brought it out, scanned over the messages - Harley wanted to come over after school, just to hang out... maybe I'll answer that later, I told myself. Too much going on in my head right now. But, then - Have you seriously talked with him? Zoey had asked. Sure, a lot of it was _my_fault, and I'm as guilty as him...

...and, God, I did not want to go out of my way to bring it up. Just like with many of my other problems, I just wished that it would go away on its own without me having to constantly dig and push at it. And that's not an uncommon feeling, I don't think... for some things in the past, this panther right here had to be the one to go through with sending the message or doing whatever it was that needed to be done for me.

This would give me a chance to set things straight before it got to that point, before we went on for too long so that the guilt weighed down on me like this, except ceaselessly. Before I could stop to think, before I could persuade myself out of it, I typed back - "Yeah, sure. I think Mom's getting off work early today, so she can give us a ride home. When's your last class?"

Zoey's eyes met mine again right after I slid my phone back into my pocket. Her ears had remained folded back, and now, I could see her concern in her eyes.

"I think you need to break up with William."