Room 417, eaaaaaaarly morning

Jaye would be hungover. This may be a duh for everyone else in school today. Whatever. Ick.

Mentally yelling at her feet for making too much noise on the carpet, Jaye shuffles into the bathroom to brush her tongue free of the cat that seemed to crawl in there and die overnight, and then shuffles back to her bed just to flop onto it. First period class, ugh. Bad. Bad. Seventeen sucks so far.