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San Francisco

Brad Dailey woke to sunlight streaming through open blinds and wondered where the hell he was.

The last thing he remembered was a bar in the city, being dumped by his chick and ending up talking to the bartender and the only other guy left in the place.

Nice guys who’d drunk with him until he couldn’t remember the girl’s name, let alone why he’d liked her in the first place.

Her loss.

He swallowed, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like spit to an envelope.

What the fuck had he ended up drinking? He was going to have the hangover from hell, and he was due in class at ten.

He grabbed his cell phone and squinted at the numbers.

It was already nine thirty. Even if he busted a gut, he’d never get there in time.

But he had to go. Dr. Blinz was a bastard.

He’d be chucked out of the class if he didn’t show up again, and his parents would kill him.

With superhuman effort, he rolled out of bed and staggered toward the bathroom.

First, he needed to pee real bad. That accomplished, he turned on the faucets and faced his reflection in the mirror.

And screamed.