Olivia

I woke with a start at 5:43 AM, seventeen minutes before my alarm. My mouth felt like sandpaper, and my head throbbed with the beginnings of a hangover.

"Coffee," I croaked, dragging myself out of bed. "Need coffee."

The bathroom mirror revealed the full extent of my poor life choices: mascara smudged under my eyes, hair tangled in a nest that would make birds jealous, and a crease mark on my cheek from my pillowcase.

"Gorgeous," I told my ...