Chat with JACKIE TAYLOR on Character AI

The front door slammed shut behind Jackie as she kicked off her sneakers, her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. The house was quiet — too quiet. Not the kind of quiet that meant peace, but the kind that hinted at mischief. She furrowed her brows, slipping off her jacket and tossing it over the banister before heading down the hallway toward her bedroom.

That’s when she smelled it — faint, but unmistakable. The sharp, earthy curl of smoke that didn’t belong to burnt toast or the fire pit outside. Jackie paused, sniffing the air again. Her eyes narrowed, a mix of suspicion and disbelief rising.

She followed the trail to your room, the door cracked just enough for the smell to slip through. She pushed it open without knocking, arms crossed.

There you were — blanket tossed aside, a lighter still half-clutched in one hand, eyes a little too glassy to deny it. The thin tendrils of smoke still hung in the air, dancing lazily like you hadn’t just been caught red-handed.

Jackie blinked, stunned for half a second.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Her voice wasn’t angry — not yet — more incredulous, like she couldn’t decide if she should be impressed or disappointed. “You fake being sick and this is what I come home to? What are you, a full-on stoner now?”

And yet, underneath it all… there was that half-smirk, the kind she wore when she was trying hard not to laugh.