I groaned. "Another headache." The room spun as I sat on Dad's old red easy chair. The cushions smelled like dust and spilled whiskey.
Tasha clicked her tongue. "Caffeine withdrawal. I keep telling you, coffee's gonna wreck your brain."
"What the Hell do I switch to in the morning, then?"
"I dunno. Tea."
I laughed. "That stuff is the brew of the devil. No, thanks."