I woke up the next morning laying in Casey's bed. My head is killing me and I can't even open my eyes. It's like the sun is staring me down from two feet away.

I feel the bed move a little and hear Casey groan. She manages to get out of the bed and I can hear her moving around in the room. I have no idea how she can even stand because I know she drank a lot more than I did last night.

And it's hot as hell in this room, I can feel myself sweating pretty much everywhere.

I find the strength to get up and walk into the hallway to the thermostat. It's set at 78 degrees. What the hell? I quickly change it and head into my bedroom where I immediately climb into my bed.

Not long after, Casey comes into my room and forces me into my shower. I hate every moment of it, but I do feel a little better after. When I get out and get dressed, I find a glass of water with some pain medication on my nightstand. I silently thank Casey and quickly take them, hoping they kick in fast.

I lay on my bed and try checking my phone, but even on the lowest brightness setting, it's too bright.

I hate hangovers.

"Al, we have to go to work, come on," Jordyn announced as she walked by my bedroom. I inwardly groan and force myself to get out of the bed.

Whenever they work on the weekends, they drag me along with them so they aren't bored when it gets slow. At least I'll have plenty of time to study for finals.

Before leaving the apartment, I grab my bag and everything I know I'm going to need before we all climb into Jordyn's car.

When we arrive, their boss looks pretty mad. I overhear Casey apologize for being late and they both disappear into the back room. I order my usual drink while they're back there and sit at the counter, ready to die from this hangover and having to study with one.

I know I didn't even drink that much, which makes me question just how much alcohol was in that eggnog.

A few hours in, I find myself dozing off, my head dropping to the counter and Casey loudly banging on it to wake me up. I send her a strong glare and she winks, nodding in the direction of the door. I don't even bother looking back, I just stare at my laptop with several pictures of old, long past dead, artists.

A familiar voice sounds from next to me and Casey places a cup right in front of me. I managed to write a new version of his name, convinced even if I spelled it correctly, he wouldn't be able to tell because my handwriting looks like chicken scratch right now.

Casey practically snatches the cup out of my hand and I go back to staring at the pictures.

Jordyn was right, I shouldn't have gone to graduate school for art history. It isn't nearly as fun as the art itself. I'm way too far in to change it now. I have just one semester left, and then I'm going to finally be done with college. There's no way I'm going any longer.

Looking at my notes surrounding me makes me really wish that finals were already over.