Chapter 105: Chapter 105 - Senior Night
Senior Night was supposed to feel special.
That was what the posters said.
The school had made everything look official. Red, black, and silver balloons were tied near the stadium entrance. A banner stretched across the fence with SENIOR NIGHT printed in big block letters. The booster club table had flowers wrapped in clear plastic, little boxes of pins, and programs with the seniors’ names listed by team.
Parents crowded the walkway with phones already out.
Mothers fixed collars. Fathers held flowers. Little siblings ran between legs until someone snapped their name. A grandmother cried before anyone even stepped on the field.
Roxie stood near the entrance with her cheer jacket zipped halfway and her hands cold around her phone.
Five-twenty-six.
Claire was not there.
She checked the gate again.
People kept coming through, but none of them were Claire. A man in a Ravens hoodie came in with two bouquets. A woman in heels waved at someone near the football line. Kendall’s mother walked past with flowers so perfect they looked arranged for a magazine, and Kendall’s father followed with a camera strap around his neck.
Roxie looked away before Kendall saw her looking.
Five-twenty-seven.
Angela stood with both parents near the fence. Her mother was already wiping her eyes while Angela looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time. Karen stood a few feet away with her aunt, who had one arm around her shoulders and a phone aimed at her face. Karen rolled her eyes at the camera, but she leaned in when her aunt pulled her close.
Roxie turned her phone over in her hand.
No message.
No missed call.
She had texted Claire twice.
Roxie: Senior Night is tonight. Be there by 5:30.
Roxie: They’re lining us up soon.
Delivered.
Nothing else.
Coach Miller walked along the cheer line with a clipboard. "Flowers in left hand. Smile for the camera. Escorts on your right. When your name gets called, walk to the fifty, pause for the picture, then exit toward the track. This is your moment, so make it shine. But not too much. This isn’t a runway."
A few girls laughed.
Roxie didn’t.
Coach Miller’s eyes landed on her.
He glanced at the empty space beside her.
Roxie lifted her chin before he could say anything.
"I’m good," she said.
He studied her face for half a second. "Line starts in three minutes."
"I know."
He nodded once and moved on.
Five-twenty-nine.
Claire still was not there.
Roxie locked her phone and put it in her jacket pocket.
Fine.
She could walk alone.
People did that. Maybe. Probably. If anyone asked, she would say her mom got stuck at work or had a migraine or could not find parking. She had lied about harder things. She could make this look like a choice if she kept her face calm enough.
She had spent her whole life learning how to stand beside empty spaces.
This was only another one.
The football seniors were lined up near the opposite side of the entrance. Zac stood with his parents and Nathan a few spaces away from the team. His father wore a dark coat and stood straight like a photograph had already been taken and he wanted to look ready for it. His mother looked elegant in a cream sweater, hair perfect, hand resting lightly on Zac’s arm.
Nathan, his brother, the one she saw in the family photo stood beside them with his hands in his pockets, looking bored in a way that still managed to look elegant.
He looked different in person. He looked more human.
A school photographer stopped in front of Zac’s family.
Mrs. Prescott smiled.
Zac did not.
Roxie looked away.
His problem was too many people around him.
Hers was one person missing.
The announcer’s voice cracked through the speaker.
"Good evening, Ravens fans, and welcome to Senior Night."
The crowd clapped.
Roxie swallowed.
Her throat felt tight.
Coach Miller started moving people into order.
Kendall went first among the cheer seniors, her parents on each side, flowers in her mother’s hand, smile ready. Tessa followed with both parents and a little brother who kept waving at the bleachers. The line shifted forward.
Roxie stood where she was.
Alone.
Her fingers curled at her sides.
She would walk alone.
She would smile.
She would make it look like she chose it.
"Roxie!"
The voice came from the gate.
Small. Loud. Familiar.
Roxie turned.
Jason was pushing through the entrance with both hands wrapped around the fence rail, waving like she might miss him even though he was practically shouting her name. Mrs. Robinson hurried behind him with flowers in her arms, hair pinned back, cheeks flushed like they had rushed across the parking lot.
Mr. Robinson came behind them in work clothes.
Work boots. Dark pants. A button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled once at the wrists. His hair looked like he had run a hand through it in the car. He was still carrying his keys.
Roxie’s chest tightened so fast she almost forgot how to breathe.
Jason reached her first. "We made it."
Roxie stared at him. "What are you doing here?"
"You said it was boring." Jason grinned. "You lied. There are trillion people here."
Mrs. Robinson stopped in front of Roxie and held out the flowers.
They were wrapped in clear plastic with a red ribbon around the stems.
Roxie looked at them.
Her smile was warm and careful. "Senior Night deserves flowers."
Roxie’s eyes burned.
She blinked once and took them. "You didn’t have to, Mrs. Robinson."
"I know." She touched her hand. "And I think we’re past the old Mrs. Robinson. Call me Cynthia."
That made it worse. She bit inside her cheeks. "Okay." She blinked looking at her. "Cynthia."
Cynthia smiled and stepped closer. Her eyes went from Roxie’s face to the line starting to move. "Looks like they’re about to call you."
Roxie’s hand tightened around the flowers. "My mom might still come."
The words came out before she could stop them.
Cynthia’s face softened, but she did not pity her. That was the part that kept Roxie from breaking.
"Then she’ll see you from the stands," Cynthia said.
Jason bounced on his toes. "Can I walk with her?"
Mr. Robinson put a hand on his shoulder. "You and your mom are going to sit where she can see you."
Jason’s face fell. "But—"
"Jason," Cynthia said gently.
He sighed like someone had ruined his entire life. "Fine. I’ll scream loud."
Roxie let out a small sound that almost became a laugh.
Mr. Robinson looked at her. "If it’s okay with you, I can walk."
Roxie looked at him.
He made it sound simple.
Like stepping into someone else’s empty space was not huge. Like she was not standing there with flowers in her hand trying to swallow years of wanting her mother to choose her on purpose.
The announcer called another name.
The line shifted.
Roxie nodded because speaking felt dangerous.
Mr. Robinson moved to her right side.
Cynthia touched Roxie’s arm lightly. "We’ll be right there."
She pointed toward the lower bleachers.
Jason waved again with both hands. "I’m going to yell."
"I heard," Roxie said.
Cynthia led him away.
Roxie stood beside Mr. Robinson, gripping the flowers. "Thank you, Mr. Robinson."
"You can call me Daniel too, you know."
She looked ahead as her eyes started to sting. "Thank you, Daniel."
He smiled at her and patted her hand. "Anytime, Roxxane."
For a second, neither of them spoke.
Mr. Robinson looked toward the field. "You nervous?"
"No."
He nodded. "Good. I am."
That got another breath out of her.
The line moved again.
Roxie pointed toward the bleachers because she needed something to do. "Angela is over there. The one with the mom already crying."
"I see her."
"And Karen is beside her aunt. She looks mean, but that’s just her face."
Mr. Robinson looked. "The one staring at the photographer like he owes her money?"
"That’s Karen."
"Good face."
Roxie almost smiled.
The announcer called Tessa’s name.
The cheer line moved again.
Roxie was next.
Her palms were damp around the flower stems.
Mr. Robinson lowered his voice. "Walk slow enough for the picture."
Roxie looked at him.
"And keep your chin up," he said.
Something in her chest hurt.
She nodded.
The announcer’s voice came through the speakers.
"And now, senior cheer captain, Roxanne Jones."
The field lights felt too bright.
The crowd clapped.
Roxie stepped forward with Mr. Robinson beside her.
For half a second, everything sounded far away. The announcer kept reading, but Roxie barely heard the words.
"Roxanne has been a dedicated member of the Briarwick cheer program and serves as cheer captain. She is recognized for her leadership, discipline, and commitment to the Ravens."
Leadership.
Discipline.
Commitment.
The words sounded like they belonged to someone who slept properly and had a mother in the stands.
Roxie kept walking.
Slow enough for the picture.
Chin up.
Mr. Robinson stayed steady beside her. He did not crowd her. He did not make it bigger. He only walked at her pace, like he had always belonged there.
From the bleachers, Jason screamed.
"ROXIE!"
Heads turned.
Cynthia clapped beside him, smiling so wide Roxie could see it from the field.
Angela stood and clapped. Karen stood too, arms crossed at first, then clapping hard enough to make up for it.
Roxie’s throat tightened.
She smiled for the picture.
It almost hurt.
At the fifty-yard line, the photographer lifted the camera.
Mr. Robinson spoke low without moving his smile. "There you go."
The flash went off.
Roxie kept her chin up.
They reached the end of the line near the track. Cynthia came down from the bleachers after the group finished, and Jason ran ahead of her.
"You heard me, right?" he asked.
"The whole county heard you," Roxie said.
He looked satisfied.
Cynthia took a picture of Roxie with the flowers. Roxie stood still for it, stiff at first, then less stiff when Cynthia told Jason to stop putting bunny ears behind her head.
For a few minutes, the hurt sat beside something warm.
That almost made it worse.
Because Claire was still not there.
Roxie checked the gate again before the game started.
Empty.
No Claire.
No late excuse.
No running in with messy hair and a cigarette smell and an apology that would have been too small but still something.
Nothing.
