Out of Time

Prologue

Paige had never been hungover before, but based on what she's read and heard, this was exactly how she imagined it. A throbbing headache, swollen eyes, a throat that felt like sandpaper. Plus, she had a woozy memory at best of what last night entailed. All of the symptoms clearly pointed to having had one or two – or based on the sheer force of the hammer pounding against her skull, maybe three – too many drinks last night. And yet, Paige had never had a complete drink of alcohol in her life. Sure, she has tasted the odd sip here or there when her parents offer her a glass of champagne on New Years' Eve or at a wedding, but she has never popped open a beer, taken a shot, or drank from the cliched red solo cup from a collegiate keg.

Even more odd, she was rather confident that this rule had not been broken last night, despite the fact that she had gone to her first frat party where it was certainly no secret where the kegs were located. Though, who knows? Maybe she had sipped at each of her friends' cups and it had simply accumulated without her notice. Or maybe the fumes from whatever drugs the other students had been smoking happened to fester right beneath her nose, getting her high off of second hand smoke. The only thing she knew for sure was that she would be willing to trade in half of her belongings for a gallon of water and some ibuprofen.

When Paige finally managed to roll over, away from the wall, she opened her eyes to the sound of her roommate softly snoring and the pale morning sun already glinting through the slits in the curtains that failed to cover their entire window. Like a spotlight sent from the heavens, a sliver of light fell on the corner of her dresser where her water bottle stood sentinel, watching over her in her dreamless sleep. She kicked off her sheets and clumsily undid the cap before chugging down half of the bottle in one go. She came up gasping for air as if she had narrowly escaped drowning and had to stop herself from finishing off the bottle before she had a single pill in her palm.

Her parents' mantra of waiting fifteen minutes for the medicine to kick in failed her. Twenty minutes later and her headache was still knocking like a determined guest and while she was no longer parched, her eyes still looked like she had been crying for hours the night before. This was one of those times Paige found herself wishing she had subscribed to the whole make-up trend from an earlier age – or at all, really – so that she would be able to hide her appearance a little better, especially considering she would be seeing her parents that afternoon. But, no use crying over it. It is far too late to turn back the clock on her lifetime of interests.

Careful not to wake up her still sleeping roommate, Paige slid her suitcase out from underneath her bed and topped it off with the last of the toiletries she hadn't yet packed.