the perplex expression evident on jughead's features as he slowed to a halt at clay's door. his knuckles rapped on the wood to get clay's attention. " rough night ? "
He was still overheated at the events earlier that night, now trying to calm himself down. Yet his head jerked up from his notepad at the sound. Clay’s eyes grew as weary as he felt. “You could say that.” He sat the book and his pencil next to him on his bed, sighing. “---How much did you hear?”










