"Hey, I've got another riddle for you: what's the difference between you and a bitch who's about to get her teeth kicked in?"
Not again. Why did someone always give her alcohol? Every time they went to a party, she explained that sphinxes cannot produce alcohol dehydrogenase. Every single time, someone gave the damn cat liquor. She would have to leave early, dragging a drunken sphinx back to their apartment. Alone.
Beth sighed with frustration, finishing off her drink while moving to extricate herself and the wasted cat before anything bad happened. Tonight was going to be her eighth consecutive strikeout. Despite her shoulder-length blonde hair E-cup breasts, she had yet to take a boy home since she arrived at school. Her roommate was the most effective chastity belt ever made, a ticking time bomb guaranteed to ruin any party or double date and then shed all over everything to boot.
A crowd was forming around the four-legged cockblock, watching her pick a fight with a lamia, of all things. With the aid of the mental laxative called alcohol, Beth would readily admit that the sphinx was quite attractive. Her bronze skin, sharp features, and black hair set her apart from the sea of pale brunettes that filled their Midwestern university. Although the sphinx did her best to hide it, she had quite the body under that ridiculous green knit sweater. Short fur covered her soft, almost-human stomach and enormous bust that jiggled obscenely between her front legs. Apparently, no one had yet designed a bra for sphinxes. That or she never bothered to wear one. Either way, the cat was a bombshell of a woman with the grace of a cat, wrapped up in a knit onesie sweater. Life was, at times, humorous.
Beth parted the crowd easily, most people recognizing her as something like the sphinx's caretaker. By the looks of things, she was not a second too early. The lamia was coiled and poised to strike the cat, whose tail was about three times thicker than normal as she tried to make herself as large as possible. She approached quickly and decisively. Even a drunken sphinx could outrun her if she had the chance.
"Come on, Liz, we're leaving."
As it turns out, sphinxes shared more traits with cats than they would admit. A quick struggle later, Beth had her by the scruff of the neck. She went limp immediately as she was picked up and carried out of the room with nary a kick.
"Hey, no fair! You promised to not do that in public!"
"Yeah, and you promised not to get trashed this time. We're going home."
At times, Beth was quite appreciative of her back-country upbringing. Some men were put off by her lightly, yet noticeably muscled body, but strength was invaluable when dealing with a stubborn and idiotic roommate. She apologized profusely to the host of the party before taking her leave with the limp cat. First to leave, yet again. At this rate, she was going to be an old maid.
"Hey, Beth. Sorry I got carried away, it's just-"
"I don't want to hear it. I don't want an apology. I just want you to stop making an ass of yourself."
Somehow, Liz looked even more pathetic after being scolded. She did seem sorry, but being sorry wasn't going to undo tonight. Beth put her down, sick of carrying her literal burden along with her figurative one. The sphinx struggled to regain her balance but eventually managed to muster out a semblance of coordination and follow the human woman. What was she going to do with her?
They arrived at their apartment some time later, in perfect silence. They each went their own ways: Liz to the toilet and Beth to the kitchen to procure water and medicine for the trashed cat. Ibuprofen was not yet approved for sphinxes, but that had not stopped them so far. Liz was a first-class bitch with a hangover.
The variously unpleasant sounds coming from the bathroom cut through Beth's buzz, the last thing keeping tonight from being a total failure. She took school seriously, but it would be a lie to say that finding a boyfriend wasn't close-behind on her list of priorities. At this rate, she was going to be single forever.
Maybe next time, she should leave Liz at home. She was a rather serious handicap at parties. Tonight was practically a record: she made it nearly a full hour before picking a fight with someone eight times her size (length-wise). Then again, leaving her on her own was a pretty shitty thing to do. The sphinx was a rather social beast, but had more than a little difficulty making friends on her own, owing to the long time she and her kind spent in total isolation. The way she had latched onto Beth made it clear that she only wanted a friend.
Speaking of the devil, Liz finally managed to drag herself out of the bathroom, taking both the jug of water and ibuprofen without a word. Beth hoped that she hadn't said anything too inappropriate earlier. With any luck, they will have both forgotten pretty much everything by morning. Such is the grace and mystery of alcohol. In the meantime, all that was left to do was get undressed and into bed. Hopefully, Liz would be able to take care of herself on that regard.
Beth stripped in her room, retaining nothing but a white undershirt and black pair of panties. She crawled between the sheets, just drunk-enough to feel the world turn when she closed her eyes. Today was her last day of freedom for a while. Tomorrow, she would have to start studying for midterms. It was hard to believe that her first semester was almost over. She did not begrudge the time she spent helping the awkward sphinx adjust to college life, but she couldn't help but wish for some of the time back. As her mind wandered through its drunken haze, a dead weight impacted her bed.
"Liz?"
"Yeah. I just wanted to say sorry for tonight. If you want, you can go by yourself next time. I know I'm a pain in the ass."
"No, no. Well, I guess you are. But it's not that bad. You're fun to be around, but you really need to stop drinking. You know you can't handle liquor."
"But I get so nervous around people, I can't help it. I never even met someone outside of my family until four months ago. I don't really know what to talk about. No one wants to hear about how I spent twenty years in Wyoming, sleeping in the woods and catching fish like some kind of bear."
"Grizzly."
"Yeah, I know what kind of bear. Smart-ass."
The silence between them was rather comfortable. Living together was tough, but they would get through it. They had become fast friends when they first met and had always had a knack for reconciliation. Liz was awkward and an extremely aggressive drunk, but she was earnest and kind, not to mention very intelligent. It was hard to stay mad at her. Beth reached over to her friend, stroking the soft fur on her back.
"Liz, are you naked?"
"Seems that way."
"Why are you naked?"
"I always sleep like this."
"Then why are you in my bed?"
"I already told you. I came to apologize."
Well, this conversation was going nowhere. It's not like she was really naked, anyway. Sphinxes did not wear clothing until they integrated with human society. Really, most of the monstrous races didn't. Her fur kept her warm, so there was really no need for clothes outside of societal expectations. Plus, her fur felt really nice. She inched closer to the cat, enjoying her soft, furry warmth.
"Hey, want me to tell you some riddles? Maybe it will cheer you up."
"Liz, I don't like your riddles when I'm sober. Plus, most of them aren't even riddles."
The sphinx was double-majoring in mathematics and philosophy. It really wasn't fair.
"Fine, real riddles this time. No more conformally mapped trolley problems carried out in non-symmetric metric spaces with rails whose boundary points aren't necessarily contained within the space."
"No, no riddles at all. I'm way too tired."
"Too bad. What's brown and sticky?"
"I'm not doing this, Liz."
"Answer or I piss your bed."
"What the hell is wrong with you? Fine, I don't know. Caramel?"
"No, a stick."
"Liz, that's not even a riddle. Go to bed, you're drunk."
"Here's another: what runs on 4 AA in the morning, 2 C in the afternoon, and 3 D cells at night?"
"Don't know."
"My sex life."