Jessin groaned, pulling up a pair of black jeans, disobedience is key, for her, and pulled the white and black school-girl shirt on. She grabbed her iPod and ran down the steps, haphazardly throwing a few bucks at a cashier and grabbing a sandwich, turkey, she thinks. Taking a bite, she runs to her first class, Intermediate Vocals. Opening the door, she sits down, knowing she's probably the first here.
Jessin places her iPod in the speakers and begins to sing, her angelic voice mingling with that of the male singer's. Then, as if the police were here searching for drugs, a girl runs in with a crazed expression, her clothes looking like they were thrown on in a heartbeat.
"Um..." Jessin said to the girl. "Are you okay?" Ah, the all-ever cliched question.
(So, I didn't really do god-modeling, no really...)