(Quinn's POV)
I wake up with a pounding headache, thanks to the eight shots I’d downed last night. The room spins for a second as I sit up. My friends must have brought me here after I passed out. All I want is to go back to sleep and never wake up, but I have a date to prepare for. I don’t know who is coming, where we are going, or what to wear.
Dragging myself out of bed, I stumble to the kitchen in search of caffeine. Coffee is my lifeline now, and I need it strong and black to shake off this zombie-like feeling. My face feels swollen from all the crying. Magnus, our pack’s leader, has given me hardly any time to choose between the twins. Filling the kettle, I look in the fridge for something to eat. There is bacon, eggs, butter, and jam, but the thought of cooking makes me feel sick
