It wasn't the throbbing, amplifying pain of a hangover. It didn't bring pain with every sound and make light unbearable. It wasn't the piercing, immobilizing pain of a migraine--like I used to get when I was a kid. It was just a regular sort of headache.
Still hurt like a bitch, though.
I groaned and tried to move. Everything ached, so I stopped immediately. My eyes were closed, but I knew I was lying on something flat and firm that filed itself instantly away in my head as a bed, but not my bed. That wasn't worrying; I haven't had my own bed in months. I'd been living motel-to-motel, bus-depot-bench-to-motel-again for long enough that waking up someplace weird wasn't an issue anymore. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the dull interior of one more rented room.
I instead saw plain white walls and ceiling. A light blue linoleum floor with a white checker pattern. Two green,…