I'm lifted from the chair and I let out a small groan. "Go back to sleep. I'm carrying you to my room," Moon says. My arms and legs are useless, so I do what he says.
When I finally wake up, light hits my eyes and I struggle to climb out of bed before I puke. I run into Moon's bathroom and barely make it to the toilet. Chips and tequila are not a good combination when they come up. When I think everything is expelled from my stomach, I turn on the shower and strip off my bra and panties. Moon must have removed the rest of my clothes last night. My toothbrush is in the drawer beside Moon's, and I thoroughly brush my teeth and rinse out my mouth.
I'm never drinking again. The water burns my scrapes, but I don't care. I wash from head to toe, including my hair. I feel horrible and that does
