The bed is poorly made within thirty seconds, but Jess fusses with it and musses it back up for another thirty. Then Kamala hollers unexpectedly and Jess steps back like she's been caught with a dead body.

"Uh," she tests her voice before raising it, a good call since it feels both soaked and crackling somehow. She clears her throat quietly and yells back, "Hey!" and then winces at herself for the intonation of a follow up that goes unuttered. Why is she so bad at being casual? She's gonna blame the weed. The whole two tokes she had of it. She spares the bed a final appraising glance, which she regrets, and leaves her room.

"Any hot water?"