My bloodied hands were spleen-deep in an animal carcass the first time I saw her. She’d been hired at our grocery store, Big Pig. Everyone else had introduced themselves in our department, and it was my turn to make an impression.
“Hey,” I said, awkwardly. Talking to someone pretty throws my anxiety into overdrive. “I'm Seth, the butcher here. Nice to ‘meat’ you.”
I held out a ribsteak instead of my hand to shake. She looked at me like I may be a deranged lunatic. 
“You know, meat/meet?” 
“I'm vegan,” she said.
“Oh.” Not a great start, but curiosity emboldened me. “How’d you land in the meat department?”
“I needed a job, and this department had the only opening.” 
“Well, I’m glad you’re here...” Since she hadn't supplied a name, I glanced at the nametag pinned just above her left breast, then got out fast. “...Kathryn.”
“Kay.”
“Huh?”
“I go by Kay,” she explained. “Like the letter.”
“Oh, cool!” I said with too much enthusiasm. “Does anyone call you Kathryn?”
“Just my mom,” she said. “And sometimes my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend... It felt like I’d just slipped on a stray piece of cartilage and crashed to the ground, heart first. 

After my initial flop, my jokes started landing and, to my amazement, she found me funny. With dating off the table, I could just be myself.
While busy hacking through ribs one day, I asked: “How many cows would it take to turn me vegan?”
She looked up from cello-wrapping cuts of beef. “Huh?”
“Just guess!”
“I dunno, like, 500?”
“Just two,” I answered, eliciting a quirked eyebrow. “One to hold me down, and the other to punch.”
She burst into laughter, earning looks from customers nearby.
I looked over and a twinkle in her eye held mine. I had the distinct impression we were flirting. But she had that girlfriend. Girlfriend. 
Until one day, she didn't.

Kay shuffled in for her shift without her signature eyeliner, eyes red and puffy.
“Everything okay?” I whispered.
“I'm fine,” she said, but I gave her a ‘yeah, right’ look. “Not here, Seth.” Her tone was harsh. 
Maybe we weren't the friends I thought we were.
I found her later on break, slumped over a bowl of some sort of steaming sadness.
“What is that—porridge?” I asked. 
She rolled her eyes. “Oatmeal. It was all I had time to grab on my way out.”
“Oh, it looks, um.... Mmm!” I made my best pretend face.
It earned a small chuckle. “It's actually not bad. There’s things other than meat that are yummy too, you know.”
“I had no idea!” I feigned shock. 
A bigger smile this time. Maybe we were still on okay terms. “So, what happened?”
She looked back at her bowl. “My girlfriend broke up with me.”
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” I really was.
“It's okay,” she said. “I knew it was coming. We'd both been feeling it was over for a while. I just didn’t want anything to change…but everything changed anyway.”
I slipped into the seat across from her and reached for her hands, then thought better of it. “Life has a way of doing that,” I said. “For others, anyway. Not much ever changes for me.”
“Would you like things to change?”
A look passed between us. Something shifted, and we were no longer just in the friend zone, where I could be myself. Anxiety flooded back in. I wasn't sure what to say or how to act.
“Er, gotta get back! Break is almost done—I uh, don't wanna be late.”
I fled to the safety of poultry, but not before catching Kay’s wistful expression as she watched me go.

We worked in uncomfortable silence for the rest of our shifts. I rushed for the exit afterwards, but Kay was waiting for me in the parking lot. 
“You ran away before,” she said. 
I didn't have an excuse.
“That hurt, Seth.”
“I’m sorry. I just...didn't know what to say.”
“Just say what you're feeling. You don't have to always hide, you know. Not from me.”
“You don't want to know what I'm feeling,” I said.
“Yes, I do.”
“You'll hate me. You'll think I'm a bad ally.”
“Just fucking say it, Seth.”
“I like you, okay! A lot. I've always liked you, a lot, from the moment we met. But you like women. And I don't want to lose you. I’d take friendship any day over you not being in my life.”
“I knew it!” She smiled and threw herself at me, mouth latching onto mine, chest pressing against me. Anxiety bubbled up, but quickly all thoughts fled except for how warm her lips were, and how perfectly her body fit against mine. 
Slowly, we parted. Kay glowed more beautifully than ever before.
“I-I...” I sputtered, cleared my throat, and tried again. “I’d thought... I just assumed...”
“Some ally,” she scoffed lightly. “I may be vegan, but I never said I wouldn't have the occasional sausage.”
Her face broke at the terrible line, and we both cracked up.
“So...” I let the question hang hoping she’d grab it, but she was having none of it.
“I only ask out girls,” she said. “If you wanna go out, you're gonna have to do the asking.”
I took a deep breath. It was time to finally say ‘fuck it’ to my anxiety. “Would you, Kay, beautiful vegan meat counter girl, go out with this lowly carnivorous butcher?”
“Yes!” she said, face beaming. “But maybe this butcher could try something different for a change.”
“I suppose I could give that porridge stuff a try...”
She gave my shoulder a shove. “There's other vegan food than that!”
I gave her a face that said ‘I highly doubt it’, earning me another punch. I could get used to this.
I reached for her hand with my own sweaty one, and gratefully, she took it. Our fingers intertwined as we walked into the most brilliantly beautiful sunset Big Pig had ever seen.