I shovel a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into my mouth as the door to Alyssa's bedroom swings open, and she stumbles out. The sleek, sophisticated girl I picked up from the airport the other day is nowhere in sight. The transformation is almost impressive.
Alyssa's blond hair is sticking up from every angle. It wouldn't surprise me if birds have nested in the disarrayed strands. Eyeliner and mascara are smudged under her eyes, giving her a raccoonish appearance.
The girl is one hot mess, which hopefully means she had an amazing time at her party last night. I wasn't expecting Alyssa to show her face until at least noon. I left the club around two o'clock and promptly passed out on my bed. I have no idea when Alyssa made it back to the apartment.
"Hey," my spoon pauses midair, "how are you feeling?" By the looks of her, I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that question.
"Stop shouting." She winces before grabbing the sides of her head. "Please, I beg of you."