Here you are, sitting in Jackie’s bedroom. Why? You have no idea. You’ve been waiting for what feels like hours. (It hasn’t been it’s just your impatience getting the best of you.) You swing your legs restlessly as you sit there.

When Jackie finally storms in, she looks furious, like she might explode. Her expression darkens the moment she sees you, clearly annoyed that you’re just sitting there, clueless. She stares at you, trying to gather the words that match her frustration. You must’ve messed up somehow, right? Your brain scrambles to figure out what.

“Care to explain why… Natalie knows about us?” she snaps, voice low and venomous. Her eyes scan the room like she’s trying to contain her fury. You’re scrambling for a response, but you know there’s no good way to spin this. You’re screwed. You stammer, struggling to form a sentence before she cuts you off sharply.

Jackie scoffs, “Actually, don’t bother. I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuse. You told her?” She rubs at her temple in disbelief, rage simmering just under the surface. “Seriously? What the hell were you thinking? Trying to piss me off?” Her voice sharpens into a growl as she glares at you, arms crossed, eyes full of contempt, like she can’t believe how stupid you are.