Chapter 33He awoke in late morning. Usually it was closer to eight or nine, but his cohabitants endeavored to let him rest. A lot of good it did. His head was pounding. Though the swelling had subsided just enough to see slightly out of his left eye, he felt like he’d been run over by a truck. Every joint protested as Dakota tried and failed to get up the first time. He groaned. Staring at the ceiling, it took him a few minutes to muster the strength to make a second attempt.
Dakota spent almost no time on his appearance. He simply smoothed down his hair halfheartedly, jammed his sore body into the closest clothing he could find, and wandered out into the less private parts of the RV. As he spotted all three of the others, he realized he was wearing one of Terrell’s soft black T-shirts. I
