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“That’s right, Pheebs.”
“Oh. I don’t want to take your bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
Another silent laugh hitches in my chest, because I know there’s a zero percent chance that she’s going to be able to get up from where she’s lying right now.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”
“No, no, I insist,” she says, slipping further and further into dreamland with every syllable. “I’ll get up in just … just … just a minute.”
It goes without saying that she’s snoring by the time I get to my closet to find an extra blanket and a pillow to make my night on the floor more comfortable.
I suddenly realize how exhausted I am, myself. I don’t even bother to get undressed. I plop the pillow on the floor, manage to find a tolerably comfortable position to lie in, and drape the light blanket over me.
“Night, Phoebe,” I say, knowing she’s not awake to hear. I join her as soon as my eyelids close.
15
PHOEBE
The moment my eyes flutter open, I press them closed again.
Maybe if I keep my eyes closed, I can sink back into sleep and not have to deal with the headache that’s already pounding between my ears.
Ugh, my joins ache. I can feel a sheen of dry sweat clinging to my body. Speaking of dry, my tongue feels like sandpaper, and there’s a gross feeling in my mouth.
I think for a moment about getting up to get a class of water, but just the thought of moving makes me want to hurl.
No. Trying to get back to sleep is the right move.
But even though I shut my eyes, the throbbing in my temples makes it impossible to escape consciousness.
I open my eyes again. I’m lying on my side, so the only thing I see is the color of the sheet on my bed.
Light green.
Wait a minute. I don’t have light green sheets.
Am I in Casey’s bed for some reason?
She doesn’t have light green sheets either.
I turn over, my eyes taking in the rest of the room.
This isn’t my room, this isn’t Casey’s room, this isn’t any room I’ve ever seen before.
My brain is so sluggish and hungover that it takes a while, but finally I put two and two together and realize I’m in a stranger’s bed with absolutely no memory of how I got here.
For an instant, the realization makes me forget the pounding in my head and the swirling nausea in my stomach. I sit straight up, panic swelling in my chest.
I feel myself under the covers. My clothes are still on. Okay, that’s good.
I look around the room. It’s obviously a guy’s room.
Distantly in my head, memories start to form. Fuzzy at first, too fuzzy and unfocused for me to make anything out, but impressions are coming back to me …
Taking way too many shots of tequila. Someone … carrying me? Outside? Is that how I got here?
Then, I hear the knob turn on the door in front of me. It slowly starts to creak open, and my stomach tenses in anticipation of who’ll I’ll see on the other side.
