"Bryson Alexander!"
The sound of my name being screamed across my bedroom was music to my ears. I hadn't heard those words strung together in so long. I used to avoid it like the plague when we were kids… and now I was actively looking forward to it.
Avery was sitting up in my bed, clutching her head like she had the world's worst headache, which she probably did, considering the amount of alcohol Tara had pumped into her last night.
"You okay," I said, trying not to grin at her obvious misery.
She squinted at me through what were clearly very sensitive eyes. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon."
"Crap." She tried to stand up, then immediately sat back down, pressing the heels of her hands against her temples. "Oh God, my head is killing me."
I handed her two ibuprofen and a bottle of w
