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Oh, for fuck's sake...

For the twentieth time, I typed a completely wrong command on the tiny computer keyboard. My paws, large even by Brown Wolf standards, don't work on devices designed for smaller species. Looking at it, the whole computer lab seems to have been developed for medium-sized species; there isn't a single station where I could work comfortably. And, to make matters worse, the air conditioning seems broken.

Today is one of those days. What else could happen?

The question was purely rhetorical; a lot of bad things could happen to add to the growing list of problems: my cell phone died during the night and the alarm didn't go off; I couldn't shower to get to class; on the way, a car drove over a puddle, drenching my pants and part of my shirt; when I got to class, I realized that, in my haste, I'd forgotten my laptop at home with the assignment I was supposed to hand in today. Now, to top it all off, I have to finish the task on a computer that can't support my fingers in a room that feels like it's next door to the third hell.

This isn't working.

With frustration bubbling up, I stand up and grab all my stuff. I've lost the day, and it's best to leave while my losses are still minimal.

The walk from the computer lab to the university food court is short—no more than a ten-minute walk—but long enough to get my paws drowning in sweat, and, try as I might, I can't keep my tongue inside my mouth.

The university food court, commonly known as RU, is a giant open space designed to house nearly all of the university's students. Roughly half of the site is made up of a restaurant (some even call this restaurant RU, while others refer to the whole site) that serves cheap, full meals, and the rest of the place is packed with smaller shops. There are so many species with different diets that the variety of meals and dishes available is vast. In my case, I just want to freshen up a bit before heading home.

I reach into my pocket for the cell phone to check the time and instinctively curse, remembering that it's dead. But, given the number of people eating at the tables, it's probably around midday.

Without much thought, I walk quickly to the nearest vending machine.

I'll grab a refreshment, head straight home, take a shower, and sleep for the rest of the day.

Hopefully, by tomorrow, my string of bad luck will have disappeared.

As I stood in front of the vending machine, a voice cut through the chatter.

“Hi, Gabe! Over here!"

I turned to see Nathan, an otter from my computer science class, waving from a small group. He ambled over, adjusting his round glasses on his snout, his blue button-down shirt neat despite the giant backpack weighing him down.

"Ah, hi Natt, How are you?"

Although we're not good friends, he's someone I can easily talk to.

"Are you having lunch here? My friends have taken that table," he points in the direction of the small group, "and if you want, you can join us."

"Sorry, bro, I'm going home." I let all my tiredness and annoyance be evident in my face. "Today was a train wreck, and I feel like I'll just keep fucking things up if I stay." I try my best to smile. "Thanks for inviting me, anyway."

I'm grateful for the invitation. Natt has been trying to get me involved with his TTRPG group ever since I said I was interested. But meeting new people, leaving home, and exposing myself—it's very complicated.

"No problemo, man; the invitation stands," he gives me a shy smile, "and if you change your mind, we'll play this afternoon in the training room."

"Thanks, man. If I recover by the end of the day, I'll try to go."

I know I won't go, and I think Natt knows it as well.

"Fine, we'll wait for you then."

He zigzags back to his tables and friends. I see some of the group casting furtive glances in my direction, surely trying to get a gist of me.

I quickly buy a soda and hurry back home.

When I say home, I mean a two-bedroom apartment in a ten-story building, less than three hundred meters from the university. My parents bought it for me the day after I passed the entrance exam.

"You don't have to worry about rent or living with other people; just focus on your studies."

My mother didn't want me to live in shared accommodations, and my father couldn't bear the thought of paying rent. So, even though they were divorced, they got together and bought this small apartment for me to live in on my own.

Before long, I'm home, opening the windows and throwing myself on the couch in my living room/kitchen. I know I really need a shower, but the day is so hot and frustrating that, for a moment, I consider staying there until nightfall. I'm sure I've only closed my eyes for a few minutes when all my plans are thrown out of the window.

"RED!!!! ARE YOU THERE? ANSWER ME!"

A thunderous scream virtually split my head in two. My ears instinctively retract, and I cover my eyes with my paws.

Not today...

The door opens with a loud thud, and a bat flies in, apparently furious.

"Why didn't you show up at my apartment?" The intruder says, closing the door with more force than necessary. "I told you I had something extremely important to talk to you about."

Still dazed, I try to sit up and face the source of trouble. "Sorry, Black, but so much shit happened today that I just forgot. Got something to drink and came straight home. I..." My eyes finally come into focus. "I must have fallen asleep."

'Black' is Rachel the bat's affectionate nickname. She has a slender, relatively tall figure, with fur as black as night, robust breasts, and little inhibition, as well as short, sky-blue hair. Her fangs usually gleam when she smiles or when she's furious.

"Bullshit Red."

Oh no... her fangs are beaming with malice.

"I'm serious," I sigh, tired of facing that furious smite, "If I tell you everything that happened to me today, you'll cry for sure."

Rachel walks around the coffee table, clearly stomping her feet, grabs the nearby chair, and sits down. "Yeah?! Do tell me then..."

I take a deep breath and tell her everything in order, exaggerating a little here and there to make it more effective. When I'd finished, I realized that she wasn't so angry anymore but was still baring her fangs.

"You woke up late, and everything fell apart," she says, with her arms crossed above her chest, "Big deal…"

"Fuck you too..."

I know that, at the end of the day, it was no big deal, but I was angry, tired, dirty, and hungry. A lecture was the last thing I wanted.

"Stop being such a spoiled little pup, Red..." the bat says, wearing an odious smirk, still with her arms crossed.

I turn and stare at her, trying to look as tired and angry as I can. My throat vibrates a little, and a nigh inaudible roar escapes from my nose. We kept the staredown for about 10 seconds until we couldn't keep it any longer.

"BWFff, AHAAHAHAHAHA."

"Hehehehe."

At the same time, we burst into a hearty laugh, and I feel as if all the stress has left my body.

Rachel sits down next to me and puts her paw over my ear, giving it a little massage. "I really can't get angry at you, can I?" For a second, all I could see was the care and love in those eyes.

We laugh some more while I make the most innocent face I can. Black is one of the few gifts that life has given me. When I moved here just over two years ago, I didn't have any friends or the ability to make them. For nearly two months, my routine was to wake up, go to university, study, come back, and sleep. Until the day I absent-mindedly knocked over the lunch she had just received from a delivery man.

I don't think I'd ever seen someone so nervous and noisy before, but after 15 minutes of screaming, this bat invited me to lunch. And of course, I paid for it.

Since then, she's always been with me, sharing meals, commenting on the turbulent life she leads on the arts major, or her amorous escapades with the other girls at university. And she insists on calling me 'Red,' even though my coat has a brownish hue.

And she's the only person who knows I'm gay.

After a while, I turn to face her again, tidying the fur on my head a little.

"All right, all right. As an apology, I'll give you one 'promise.'"

"Oho..." she stares at me, clearly interested, "And how many promises do I own already? Five? Six?"

"TWO!" I state, a bit louder than I wanted, "You have two promises."

'Promise' is a particular currency of mine. Generally, I don't have much enthusiasm for doing something and put in as little effort as is necessary. The only exception to this rule is the 'promise.' I 'promised' my mother that I would dedicate myself to my studies; I 'promised' my father that I would take care of the apartment. When Rachel found out about these rules, she started blackmailing me with the promises I made, and this ended up in quasi-commercial transactions between us. She owes me four promises, but I don't think she takes them as seriously as I do.

"I remember more, but that's okay." She glares at me again, looking almost maniacal. "Today is your lucky day; you're going to pay me back those two promises."

"I have a bad feeling about this." Despite quoting the movie more as a joke, I did have a bad feeling about it.

"Relax; it won't be a big deal." She stands up, straightens up her back, and says in an utmost, fake formal tone, "FIRST PROMISE: You'll look after my plants for the next five days."

"Huh? Are you going on a trip or something?" I ask. Rachel seldom leaves the city, like me.

"I told you, Red. My mom put me on this Catholic retreat, and I have to go. Five days with no electronics, no cell phones, no internet, no nothing—just communing with God."

Her descriptions of the place were totally devoid of emotion, aside from an occasional scorn in her eyes. Then, something hit me. "But... your mother does know you're a lesbian, doesn't she?"

A large furrow stretches out in the bat's face, with some hints of sorrow. "Of course she knows, but I think she wants to purge the demon from my body, something like that." She lets out a defeated sigh. "But since she pays my bills, I have to give in sometimes."

"I'm sorry," I said, placing my hand on her shoulder.

Moments later, we were hugging, in the same way we always do when we talk about family.

We stayed that way for some time, until Rachel released her embrace, cleaning her eyes. "You know, it's not that bad." An evil grin played on her face, brightening the mood in an instant. "Marina's going too, so it'll be more of a 'honeymoon' for me."

"Hahahahaah." I can't help laughing; the hypocrisy of some religious groups and the way they treat those who are different is truly hilarious. I wonder if Rachel's mother knows that she's only deepening her daughter's 'sin.'.

"Hey, don't laugh," protested the bat, poking me with her long, slender fingers. "Don't you pity my soul?"

"Sure, sure," I wipe some tears from my eyes, "and what's the second promise?"

Again, she clears her throat, stands up, and takes again on the fake solemn banter. "SECOND PROMISE: You will go to the Groc's Dance Party tonight."

I saw Rachel's mouth moving and words coming out, but the meaning was something so alien that I couldn't understand. "Say what again?"

Looking directly at my eyes, Rachel spoke in an unfazed, serious tone. One that I didn't remember she even used. "You. Will. Go. To. The. Groc's. Dance. Party. Tonight. And have fun."

"Are you crazy?" I said, in a high-pitched note, "Not in a million years."

For some reason, that conversation made me extremely irritable and exasperated.

"Do you expect me to go to a noisy place, full of people I don't know, and listen to bad music?" I didn't notice, but I was standing up, on the verge of shouting. "Count me out."

Rachel looks at me in silence, never wavering her eyes. I could see the cogs and gears turning in that diabolical brain of hers. After no more than 10 seconds, she took a deep breath, sat down, and said, "Yes, you will."

"RACHEL SANTOS!"

Not even my yelling removed the seriousness of the bat's face. "There's no point in using my full name." She closes her eyes and lets a curt sigh escape. "Look, I bought the ticket to this party early this month, but I forgot about the 'spiritual retreat' thingy, and I'm not going to throw it away. If I can't go, you'll go in my stead. And frankly, you need to get out a bit, Red.

The prospect of having to put on a 'normal' outfit, go to a strange place full of people, and 'hang out' is terrifying at best.

I patted around my living room, with a speck of despair bubbling in my stomach. "I won't know anyone there, Black. Do you want me to go alone? At a party? ME?"

The bat stood up and grabs me by the shoulder, looking directly in my eyes. "I know you don't like these places, so the invitation entitles you to 10 beers. So go there and get drunk."

"I don't like drinking, you know that," I said, averting my eyes.

"I know, I know," she says, still looking directly at me. Somehow, I feel the care and love I always felt around her. "Look, you don't have to drink anything or talk to anyone. Just get out of this apartment and try some new things."

Defeated, I let myself crash on the couch, covering my eyes with my paws. "You're angry at not being able to go, and you want me to feel miserable too, don't you?"

"No..." she says, then a hint of guilt echoes in her voice, "maybe a little, but I still think you need to get out for a while."

"Okay, I get it." There is no escape; when she puts something in her head, the world must follow. "And I have to stay there until when? I'm not going to stay for the whole thing."

"Hnnn," after some pondering, she lifts her paws, showing all her fingers, "until 10 o'clock should be enough."

10 o'clock. About 3 hours of party. I can do this.

"Okay, I'll go."

"Promise?" she says, raising her pinky.

"I promise."