Somewhere a King Has No Wife

"If I was painfully honest, I'd come out as bisexual," she said.

I put down my spoon. "Really," I said.

"Oh, don't look so shocked," she said dismissively, oblivious to the difference between shock and surprise. "I like men the most, but I've always been attracted to women." She reached for the pepper shaker and seasoned her salad heavily.

"But if I came out," she continued, "I'd have to change my Facebook. Then I'd be one of those bi girls that everyone hates, and my Catholic-school friends wouldn't speak to me. Also, women might hit on me, and I don't want that."

She chewed pensively, her eyes in zero gravity.

"So it's a good thing you're a fucking liar," I said.

"Yes," she said, spearing a leaf of spinach with her fork, "it's a good thing I'm a fucking liar."

"Your nose is in my soup," I said.

She tilted her head, and seventeen inches away, my meal was liberated.