Chapter 114: Chapter 114 - Birthday Girl
Roxie woke up eighteen.
Nothing changed.
The TV was still on in the living room. The screen flashed blue and white against the dark wall, playing another show she had left running before she fell asleep. Her neck hurt from the couch. Her eyes felt dry. Her throat still had that scraped feeling from crying too many times and pretending she had stopped.
For a few seconds, she lay still under the blanket and stared at the ceiling.
Eighteen.
She had spent years thinking the number would feel like a door opening.
It didn’t.
Roxie sat up slowly.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Then again.
Then again.
She picked it up and saw the notifications.
Happy birthday, Rox!
Birthday girlllll
18!!! legal adult now!
Happy birthday, queen!
There were story tags from girls on the cheer team, old pictures from Angela, and a blurry video Karen posted of Roxie rolling her eyes at lunch last month.
She typed a heart and deleted it twice before sending a simple thank you.
Then she stood, turned the TV volume up one notch, and went to get ready.
At school, Angela found her before first period and threw both arms around her.
"Happy birthday!"
Roxie stiffened, then let herself be hugged for half a second. Angela was such a goofball that staying angry around her took too much effort.
Karen stood beside them with a coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other. "Congratulations. You can now legally make bad decisions with terrifying consequences."
Angela pulled back. "Don’t listen to her. This is exciting. You’re officially an adult."
Roxie took the coffee from Karen. "I feel old."
"You look old," Karen said. "Those bags literally gave you twenty more years."
Angela smacked Karen’s arm. "She looks pretty."
Roxie took a sip of coffee. "Be honest. I look like I slept in a coffin."
Karen looked at her face, and her teasing softened. "You sleep?"
"Eventually."
Angela lifted the paper bag. "Muffin. Candle. No singing because Karen threatened me."
Karen said, "Because we’re in a hallway, and some of us still want to act like normal human beings."
Roxie opened the bag.
There was a blueberry muffin inside with one tiny candle pushed into the top.
Her throat tightened for no reason.
She looked down fast. "This is stupid."
Angela smiled. "You love it. You’ll love my gift more later."
Roxie faked a sigh. "Okay. I can, will, maybe tolerate it."
Karen leaned against the locker beside her. "Make a wish."
"Can’t. No fire."
"I have a lighter."
Angela turned to her. "Why do you have a lighter?"
Karen shrugged. "I’m prepared."
Roxie stared at them.
For one moment, the tightness in her chest loosened.
Then Karen ruined it.
"So," Karen said. "Any birthday greetings from football royalty?"
Roxie pulled the candle out of the muffin. "No."
Angela’s eyebrows lifted. "No?"
"No."
Karen watched her too closely. "Zac didn’t text?"
Roxie took a bite of the muffin. "I don’t monitor my phone for male disappointment."
Karen’s eyes narrowed. "Good. That boy deserves less."
Roxie walked toward her locker. "True."
Angela and Karen followed.
Roxie opened her locker and shoved the muffin bag inside before she could feel anything else about it.
A few people greeted her in the hall while everyone moved toward first period. Girls from cheer hugged her. Someone from history called out from the stairwell. Mason yelled, "Happy birthday, Jones!" from across the hall, and she flipped him off without looking.
He laughed like that counted as affection.
Her phone kept buzzing.
None from Claire.
None from Zac.
That was fine.
She didn’t care.
She cared so little that she only checked twice.
By the lockers near the science wing, Kendall was standing with Janice and two other girls near the mirror stuck to the inside of her locker door. She was fixing her lip gloss when Roxie passed with Angela and Karen.
"Happy birthday, Roxie," Kendall said.
Roxie slowed just enough to look at her. "Thanks."
Kendall’s smile sharpened. "Eighteen. Big year."
"Apparently."
Kendall glanced at Angela and Karen, then back at Roxie. "Are you doing anything?"
Roxie closed her locker. "Breathing."
Kendall tilted her head. "No party?"
"No."
"Really?" Kendall’s eyes moved over her. "I thought this year you might actually have one at your house."
Roxie’s hand tightened on her locker door.
Angela’s face changed.
Karen straightened.
Roxie smiled first.
"Please," she said. "House parties are for people who think warm beer and sticky floors count as a personality." She turned her head and looked Kendall over. "Sorry. I didn’t mean you."
Karen coughed into her fist.
Angela looked down fast.
Kendall’s smile thinned. "I’m just curious about your house."
Roxie looked at her. "That’s sad."
"Is it?"
"Very."
Kendall stepped closer. "Are you hiding something, Roxie?"
The question pressed under Roxie’s skin.
The deed felt heavy in her backpack even though it was only paper.
Roxie kept smiling. "The only thing hidden around here should be whatever you and Brent did after homecoming. And yes, people talk."
Marissa’s mouth dropped.
Karen said, "Oh my God."
Angela grabbed Roxie’s arm. "Chemistry. We have chemistry."
Kendall’s face went red. "And you’re such a stuck-up prude—"
"Come on," Angela said, pulling Roxie down the hall before Kendall could finish.
Karen followed, grinning despite herself. "That was evil."
"She asked."
"She did," Karen said. "And I support women’s wrongs."
Angela looked at Roxie. "You okay?"
Roxie rolled her eyes. "Can people stop asking me that today?"
Angela’s face softened again.
Roxie hated it.
She walked faster.
Chemistry was already half full when they reached the room. Mr. Callahan was writing instructions on the board for their rust observations. Students were talking over each other, pulling out notebooks, and complaining about having to check their cups after school.
Roxie stepped inside.
Then stopped.
There were flowers on her table.
A bouquet, bigger than it had any right to be, wrapped in pale paper with a ribbon tied around the stems. Pink roses, white flowers, little green leaves, and tiny expensive-looking flowers Roxie didn’t know the name of. The kind that looked ordered, not grabbed from a grocery store bucket.
The room noticed her noticing.
A few girls turned.
Someone near the front made a soft sound.
"Ooooh."
"Someone got you flowers."
Roxie’s face heated.
Her eyes wanted to move to Zac.
She stopped herself.
Angela whispered, "Roxie."
Roxie walked to the table slowly.
The flowers smelled clean and sweet.
Her stomach twisted.
She picked up the small card tucked between the stems.
Happy birthday.
No name.
The handwriting was ugly.
Familiar.
Zac’s.
Roxie stared at it.
Her first feeling was stupid.
Warm.
Then anger ran over it.
Of course he would leave them there.
Of course he would make her stand in front of everyone with flowers he didn’t have the guts to hand to her himself.
Of course she was good enough for an unsigned card.
Roxie slipped the card back into the bouquet.
Her fingers wanted to crumple it.
She didn’t.
Roxie forced her mouth into something close to a smile.
"Thanks, I guess," she said loudly like she didn’t care who gave it.
Mr. Callahan looked over from the board. "Miss Jones, are the flowers part of your oxidation experiment?"
A few people laughed.
She picked up the bouquet and put it on the empty stool beside her like it was an inconvenience.
Zac walked in right before the bell.
Roxie didn’t look at him.
She heard him stop.
The room shifted around them. Quiet for half a breath, then noisy again because Briarwick loved pretending it wasn’t staring.
Zac walked to the back table and sat down without saying a word.
Roxie stared at the board so hard the words blurred.
Mr. Callahan started class.
All period, she could feel the bouquet beside her.
All period, she could feel Zac behind her.
She wrote notes she barely understood. She answered one question correctly because anger apparently still left room for chemistry. Mr. Callahan looked pleased. Roxie hated that too.
When the bell rang, Angela and Karen waited near the door.
Roxie grabbed her bag.
Angela looked at the flowers. "Are you taking them?"
Roxie looked at the bouquet like it had personally insulted her.
Karen crossed her arms. "They’re expensive."
"I didn’t ask."
Angela lowered her voice. "Are they from him?"
Roxie picked them up. "No name."
Karen’s face said she knew anyway.
Roxie shoved past them before either of them could say it.
The flowers followed her the whole morning because Angela insisted she couldn’t leave them in chemistry. Roxie shoved them into her locker between classes, which made her locker smell like roses every time she opened it.
By lunch, she hated roses.
By last bell, she hated Zac.
And when she opened her locker before going back to the lab, the bouquet was still there, expensive and soft and unsigned, sitting beside her books like it had a right to stay.
Roxie stared at it.
Then she slammed the locker shut and walked to the lab.
