A/N: Hey! My first story! ;D Anyway, this is how I think Jaz came to the Brooklyn House. I don't own KC. And the italics are her thoughts. Just a little one-shot.
Her dad is scolding her. "You're addicted. No phone for a week."
What? My phone is my life. "Okay, Dad."
"I don't want to do this,"
Yes you do.
"But you need to learn to keep track of time."
I do! But I forget sometimes! Good Lord! Stop harping on me! Okay; just keep your head down. Don't argue.
"What happens when you get a job and you lose track of time?"
By that time I won't be addicted.
"You get fired!
Duh.
"Look. I don't want you to think that I enjoy this, but you need to learn."
Her voice cracks; all she can say, voice high and quivery, is, "Bye."
Her dad's face softens. "Good night, Jaz."
She walks up to room, appearing calm and stabilized. When she arrives, however, she kicks the doorframe angrily. "Damn parents. Damn phone. God-damned social life." She grabs a rainbow tote bag and packs her essentials: clothes, toiletries, snuck-in phone.
She sees a faint blue glow on her bed. Bending over, she picks up a card; the symbol on it is strangely familiar. Suddenly everything goes black.
She hits her head on something hard- a table-, trying to sit up. She falls back down, unconscious.
A boy nearby winces. "Not the best entrance, but she'll do."
"Carter!" A girl calls to the boy.
"Yes, Sadie?" He replies, exasperated.
"Did you knock out our new trainee?"