Prim's POV:
I woke up with a dry mouth, burning eyes, and a pounding head as the sound of music assaulted my senses. Someone is smashing tunes through the floor as I blink awake and realize I am on a pile of blankets, face down, and a piece of fabric wrapped around my legs like freaking restraints. I feel like utter sh*t. Last I remembered, Anya and I bought drinks and my dad had to go home.
We ate pizza and fried chicken as we got to know each other. I disregarded my father's advice. We watched a movie on my laptop and watched another movie for, like, an hour while grumpily arguing over absolutely pointless cr*p because we were both very opinionated. In my opinion, Tom Cruise is far hotter with an Irish accent and boxing gloves than he is in either Top Gun or Cocktail. Anya says otherwi
