“Oh my God, my mouth tastes like my tongue grew hair.” Riley grimaced, rolling from the couch to the floor. “Ouch!”

“At least you can taste. Mine mouth feels like I ate cement.” Ivy stretched her jaw, sticking her tongue out.

“We never made it to bed, did we?”

Ivy looked at her on the floor. “Considering you’re on the ground and we’re both in the same clothes from yesterday, I’d vote no.”

“Ugh, someone kill me, please!”

Both girls hissed at the loud complaint. “For God's sake, Henley, stop yelling.” Cringing, Riley covered her ears.

“Some friends. I should be yelling the house down. Which one of you left me on the bathroom floor?” Henley shuffled from the bedroom door into the living room, one hand shoved into her snarled hair.

Ivy sat up with a wince. “Oh boy. You look worse than I feel and I would’ve said that was impossible.” She threw a throw decorative pillow at Riley. “Look. Your buddy is doing the Walking Dead. Literally.”

Riley struggled to sit up. “Oh. My. God. Hen! What happened?”

“What do you think? Greedy Gus over there is paying the price for swigging three glasses of that alien poison they pretend is wine.” Ivy flinched with the sarcastic effort.

“Hen, why did you sleep on the floor in the bathroom?”

The tall woman looked at her friend, confused. “Did I?”

She nodded. “I would assume, yes, or how the hell else would you end up with grid marks on your face?”

“Not to mention your drool-plastered hair to the side of your cheek,” Ivy added.

Henley scuffed her feet to the wall mirror and cringed. “Eew, now, for real, I’m going to be sick. I thought I dreamed it.”

“Dreamed that you fell asleep on the tile?”

She nodded. “Yeah, and that Teva and Ms. Wilder tried to move me, but gave up.”

“Unfortunately, love, that was no dream.” Gerri walked in carrying a carafe of a greenish-brown liquid and three glasses. “You’re quite the fighter, Henley. In fact, you gave Teva a black eye.”

Henley groaned. “Please tell me she’s okay.”

Gerri smirked. “She is, or at least she will be. Lucky for you, the level of medical know-how on Nova Aurora far exceeds what we have on Earth. She’ll be as right as rain and her face back to its porcelain perfection by morning. In the meantime, we’re on our own until she mends.” She put the carafe down and then looked at her watch. “Breakfast is in one hour. We’re expected, so you girls need to pull yourselves together. Oh, and Ivy, I left something for you in your room. It’s a surprise.” She clicked the inside of her cheek. “Make sure you read the instructions.”

Gesturing toward the coffee table, Gerri nodded to them. “I’ve also brought something to clear your heads and settle your stomachs. It’s for all of you, so I suggest you don’t skip it. Hair of the dog and all.”

Ivy scooted toward the end of the couch to pull the tray closer. “It looks like ocean sludge.”

“Yes, because that’s what I bring all my guests who get drunk their first night in port. Sludge.” The wry retort made Ivy chuckle and wince at the same time.

Henley slumped onto the couch beside her and picked up the bottle, swirling the carafe in her hand. “It’s the color of baby shit.”

“Sludge. Baby shit. Call it all the names you want. Just drink it. I will not be embarrassed with you three green at the gills and ready to puke in your porridge. I warned to go easy on the Sidaii.”

“We did,” Riley said, struggling onto the couch from the floor. “She’s the one who should have her head in the toilet.”

Gerri laughed. “And she did. A lot.”

“Will this really work?” Henley asked

“Forever the skeptic. Yes, it works. For you especially.” Gerri tapped her watch. “One hour, girls. I’ll be back for you then.”

Ivy got up from the sofa with another wince. “Wait? Aren’t you here in the suite with us?”

“Nope. I visit so often, I have my own apartment in the palace.” Gerri gave them a quick salute. “One hour.”

Ivy stared at the nasty liquid in the fancy curved bottle. “Gimme that.” She held out her hand. “Every muscle in my body hurts and my bones are vibrating. Anything’s better than that.”

She took the carafe from Henley and opened the top, her nose wrinkling at the smell. “Oh my God, if this tastes worse than it smells, we’re doomed.”

“Don’t do it, Ivy.” Henley shook her head. “It’s got to be some kind of vomit-producing solution.”

She snorted. “From what Gerri just said, it’s the Sidaii that’s the ultimate in vomit producing.” Ivy shook her head. “Besides, I trust Gerri.”

“Really? She didn’t stop Teva from pouring the wine in the first place,” Riley shot back.

“True, but anything’s better than the way I feel now.” Ivy poured a small amount into a clean glass and lifted it toward her lips. “Bottoms up.”

She drained the cup, gagging as she forced the foul stuff down. Dropping the cup on the white carpet, she didn’t care if the horrible stuff dripped onto the rug. “Ugh! That was the worst thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” She slumped onto the couch and dragged the back of her hand across her lips.

Henley took the carafe next. “In high school, I once went down on this guy whose balls smelled like week-old fish. Charlie Fin was his name. Ironic, now that I think about it.”

Ivy looked at Riley and burst out laughing. “Couldn’t you smell him the minute he dropped his tighty whities?” She could barely get the words out.

“He was a football player and it happened right after practice. Hey, we’ve all done stupid stuff.” Henley shrugged. “He used to call me Amazon Queen, and not in a good way. He made gorilla noises every time I passed him in the hallway. I knew he was dying to see what it was like to fuck a big girl like me and the opportunity was the sweetest get-even ever.”

“How?”

She laughed. “Let’s just say Charlie Fin was known as Charlie Tuna for the rest of senior year. Totally worth the bottle of Listerine I chugged afterward.”

“Oh. My. GOD! Henley, you are my hero!” Ivy guffawed. “Big girls get a bad rap at every turn, so brava! If you can stand going down on that, then you can certainly handle this.” She picked up the bottle and poured, handing her new friend a full glass. “Like I said, bottoms up.”

With a grimace and a plugged nose, Henley drained the cup before shoving it back in Ivy’s hand with a shiver. “Nope. Definitely worse than Charlie Tuna balls.”

Riley bent over laughing and the other two eyed her dark springy curls. “You’re next, Ri. Tick tock,” Ivy said, tapping her bare wrist.

She grabbed the carafe off the table and gave Henley a look. “So, I’m a lightweight, huh?” Riley lifted the rim to her lips. “Here’s baby shit in your eye.” She tipped the bottle straight up and drank, choking a little before slamming the carafe down on the table.

Burping, her hand flew to her mouth, but then she exhaled, relieved. “You know, I actually feel better,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Of course, I drank the least so I’m not surprised.”

Ivy stood, fingers probing her temple. “Me, too. I feel almost normal.” She looked at Henley. “You can’t possibly feel better yet, not with the way you chugged that wine.”

“I do actually, but a hot shower will finish the trick. How long do we have?”

Riley shrugged. “I don’t know, but I would guess about forty-five minutes.”

Ivy held her hands out to both ladies to help them up from the sofa. “Let’s do this, then. Dress for success, right?”