Cassandra
When I woke up this morning, I wasn't in my comfortable bed. I was on a couch, and not in my hotel room. Sitting up, I lean back and groan, pressing my hand to the side of my banging head.
Seriously, it is as if someone is up there playing the drums.
I look down and notice I am still wearing my clothes from last night. To my relief, my sister walks out of the hotel bedroom, ridding any worries I had that I may have been in a stranger's room.
"Tarra?" My voice is as dry as the desert.
"Good morning, sunshine. We are packing up and getting ready to go in about thirty minutes."
I rise from the couch slowly, feeling nauseous beyond comprehension. "What happened last night? Why did I sleep in here?"
"You got drunk and said you didn't want to go up to motorboat dude's room, a
