For the first time in my life, I woke up with a hangover. My crusty eyes fluttered, desperately trying to keep out the morning light. I rubbed my fingers over them to scratch away then remnants of sleep.
I sat up and instantly felt a lurch in my stomach. I slapped my hand over my mouth and tried to put my feet on the floor. The sheets tangled around my legs which sent me tumbling to the floor in a graceless flurry of limbs.
My groan of pain echoed off the bare walls of my room. I hadn't gotten around to decorating since moving in with Kay. Not that I'd decorated much when I was in the apartment with Xavier, or when I was living at Xavier's house.
All my roomates-- Xavier's family, Xavier and now Kay --told me again and again to make myself at home. I wasn't sure what that meant. The only home I'd ever known was a temporary prison.
