Michaela
I groan and press my hand to my forehead, cursing myself for drinking too much last night. The other girls are a terrible influence.
A memory flashes through my mind of myself yelling for tequila shots.
Perhaps I"m the bad influence.
My door swings open and Essie comes inside, her normally perfect hair in a dizzy disarray that makes it look as if she"s been sleeping with a static balloon against her head. She seemed to completely forget about her mission to go home with someone once we got to the club and had just stayed to dance with the rest of us.
"Please tell me that there"s a hangover cure you can whip up?" she asks as she drops down on my bed. "I"d ask Bernie, but..." She waves at the window where the light already streams in. Bernie is going to be busy hiding behind he
