81- Pants and painkillers

As I enter, Megan whirls around to face me, she’s holding an armful of clothes that she appears to be stacking away and she stops mid-note of whatever tune it was she was humming. She looks surprised to see me.

“Ryann? I didn’t realise you were still here. I thought Bellamy must have taken you home already. Are you only getting up now? It’s almost eleven.” she rambles cheerfully. She drops her armful of clothes onto a large pile on her bed and pulls her curtain open a little. I flinch at the bright morning light and shield my eyes, groaning.

“Of course I’m still here. And I drank waaaaay too much last night, of course I’m only getting up now. It’s a miracle I’m up at all.” I grumble. Megan tilts her head in confusion.

“Are you really feeling that bad?” she asks curiously. I roll my eyes and regret the motion. Now that I’m standing up I feel a lot worse. Also her room is way too bright.

“Of course I am! Aren’t you?” I demand. She shrugs nonchalantly.

“Nope. my metabolism burned of