Emma woke to a familiar feeling in her chest and gut.
Hot, angry and half asleep, she began to kick, feet more sliding than catching against the sweat-damp sheets. She quickened her pace.
The unfamiliar room, ceiling and bedsheets troubled her less than the heat in her throat.
Standing, a head full of stars and stumbling through the open bathroom door, Emma folded inwards, hanging off the rim of the toilet. Her now-screaming cellphone drowned out by retches as cusses.
Where and how were questions for a less pounding head.
She wiped her lips, climbing back into bed.