Phoebe woke face down on a pink rug amid scattered sheets of computer paper. She rolled onto her back and saw Dewey kneeling next to her. He smelled, she noted groggily, like roses.
It wasn’t a great way to wake up. To make matters worse, she’d stiffened, first from her collision with the tree, and then from falling asleep on the floor. She could see herself in the mirror over the heart-shaped bed. She’d managed to ice away the shiner but now had a strange looking rose pattern creased into her cheek from the carpet.
Dewey, wise man that he was, moved back a safe distance before he grinned at her. “What happened here?”
Phoebe managed to sit up, though it felt as if she was breaking bones to do it. She looked around because she had no idea what he was talking about.
Coke cans, chip and c
