Chapter 10
I’m certain it’s a nightmare when Anya yells, “Wakey, wakey!” before ripping the covers off me and flicking on the lights.
“What’s happening?!” I sit straight up, gasping for air.
“Is there a fire alarm?” That would be the only reasonable explanation for the horror unfolding before me.
We should not be awake. It’s pitch-black outside, and the migraine in my right temple throbs in sync with a nearby shrieking alarm.
I swear it’s only been twenty minutes since I got back from the villa party, and ten since I fell asleep. “What is that noise? Make it stop!”
“Just my alarm, Sora. No fire.” Mari fumbles with her phone. “Sorry!”
“What time is it?” I push matted hair out of my face, then blindly feel around under my pillow until I locate my own.
“Four forty-five. You better get up; we’re going to be late.” Anya slings her backpack over one shoulder and waits by the door. She’s all dressed and ready while I struggle to figure out what has happened in the universe to make any of this acceptable.
“Four forty-five? In the morning? Late for what? What in God’s name even happens this early?”
“The sunrise boat ride with Nico. We all talked about it yesterday,” Anya says. “He’s got plans to show us around for the whole day.”
“You’re joking.” I throw myself back onto the bed and bury my face under one of the pillows. I flash back to a conversation that I only vaguely remember Anya and Mari having while I was making plans to meet up with Wes.
You have got to be kidding me. I got home less than three hours ago.
My mouth is all fuzzy and dry from drinking, and the literal last thing I want to do is be stuck on a tiny boat bobbing in rough waters as champagne sloshes around in my very empty stomach.
In fact, there’s nothing I can even think of that sounds less appealing in the present moment.
Anya tilts her head to the side, studying me. “Why are you so tired, Soraya? When did you get back?”
“Um, I don’t know. Probably ten?” I lie.
“Well, that’s still almost seven hours. Not to mention we slept in yesterday.” Anya is over me being a sloth. She is practically out the door, losing more patience by the second. “I mean, I feel great. I think I’m fully adjusted.”
“I haven’t been sleeping well.” I emit a muffled groan from under the pillow. “Everything hurts.”
“Come on, Sora. You don’t want to miss this. Nico said there’s going to be an entire breakfast spread—they’re even going to have bellinis!” Mari adds.
I silently curse from beneath my pillow fort. More alcohol was the last thing I needed, but there is no easy way to explain why I am hungover and feeling like decimated roadkill. Or how I’ve gotten less than three hours of sleep.
“Okay, okay. Fine. You win. I’ll go.” I throw the pillow off my face and sit up, trying to see the spinning room through my blotchy vision and throbbing headache. “I’m coming. Just give me five minutes.”