Secret Squirrel

Who: Jeri and the Cellphone
Where: Her bedroom (get your minds out of the gutters, people)
When: Too Damn Early

Jeri woke up to a throbbing headache that, she suspected, somehow involved a great deal of the liquor she ingested the night before. And possibly bees. Her hand reached out, groped around, and thumped her alarm clock. Didn't help. Sitting up also didn't help, but she really didn't have a choice on this once, unfortunately. Casting a blurry look around, she ran a hand through her hair and frowned at the room in general, until she saw her cellphone vibrating. At least she didn't have to walk to get to it. Leaning over to grab it, she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "'lo? And you better pray to God that it's past six in the morning."

Nothing.

Puzzled, she looked at the phone, and made a soft hung-overy grumble when she saw the screen. It was a text message. Brilliant move.

Hello. How are you today?

It wasn't from one of the numbers she knew, and she struggled very hard to remember where she'd read that before, but it definitely wasn't coming to her.

Whossis?

Hopefully it was a wrong number and she could sleep off the headache after all.