Chapter 116: Chapter 116 - Confused
Roxie went to chemistry after school Wednesday ready to fight.
That annoyed her before she even reached the door.
She had told herself she was going for the observation. That was all. Same cups. Same rust. Same stupid data table. Ten minutes of standing beside Zac while they pretended Tuesday had not happened.
Except Tuesday had happened.
The flowers. The fight. His mouth. The way he had said, "Then throw them away," like he was tired enough to mean it. The way he had kissed her back, then pulled away first again.
Roxie hated that part the most.
He kept stopping.
He kept acting like he had the control to step back while she stood there with her skin too hot and her pride half dead.
So yes, she was ready to fight.
She reached the chemistry room and pushed the door open.
Mr. Callahan was at his desk, grading papers.
The lab was empty.
Roxie stopped.
The cups were gone from the back counter.
The packet was gone too.
Mr. Callahan looked up. "Miss Jones."
Roxie’s hand tightened on the strap of her bag. "Where’s the experiment?"
"Finished."
She stared at him. "Finished?"
"Mr. Prescott came in during lunch. Completed the Wednesday observation, cleaned the station, finished the written explanation, and submitted the paper."
Roxie did not move.
Mr. Callahan went back to his papers. "It was early. I nearly framed it."
"He did the whole paper?"
"He said you both had practice and pep rally responsibilities tomorrow. I accepted it."
Roxie’s face felt hot.
"Did he say anything else?"
Mr. Callahan looked up again. "About rust?"
"No."
"Then no."
Roxie nodded once.
She turned and walked out before Mr. Callahan could ask why she was still standing there like an idiot.
The hallway was loud near the gym. Football players were already moving in packs. Cheerleaders carried bags and water bottles. Someone from student council dragged a box of streamers toward the cafeteria. Tomorrow’s pep rally had started taking over the school.
Roxie stood near the science hallway doors with her hand still on her bag.
Zac had finished it.
By himself.
Early.
So they wouldn’t have to meet after school.
It still felt like leaving.
She knew it was what it meant.
He could say he was helping. He could say he was saving them time. He could say he was making sure they both passed. All of that could be true.
It still felt like he had found the cleanest way to leave.
Roxie laughed under her breath.
Of course.
She wanted him to choose her publicly.
Then she got mad when he gave her flowers where people could see.
She wanted him to stop hiding.
Then she hated that he left the card unsigned.
She wanted him gone.
Then he stayed away, and her chest felt wrong.
She wanted to end whatever this was.
Then the thought of him ending it first made her want to break something.
Roxie pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek until it hurt.
Fine.
If Zac Prescott wanted to finish projects alone and act like he was above all of it, he could choke on his early submission.
She walked to practice.
Coach Miller was already in the gym when Roxie arrived, standing near the bleachers with a clipboard in one hand and the expression of a man who had come prepared to ruin everyone’s afternoon.
"Shoes on. Hair up. Phones away," he called. "Regional is here, and I am no longer accepting homecoming hangovers, birthday moods, boyfriend issues, family issues, or whatever other teenage disaster you brought into my gym."
Roxie dropped her bag near the wall.
Karen looked at her. "You okay?"
Roxie gave her a look.
Karen raised both hands. "Right. Dead question."
Angela leaned closer while tying her hair. "Did chemistry go okay?"
"Perfect."
Angela paused. "That sounded interesting."
"He finished the project by himself."
Karen’s eyebrows lifted. "Zac?"
"No, the ghost of oxidation."
Karen looked toward the gym doors. "Wow."
Angela winced. "Maybe he was trying to help?"
Roxie pulled her hair tie tighter. "I hate that sentence."
"Okay," Angela said quickly. "He was being a dick."
"That one is better."
Coach Miller blew his whistle. "Captains, front."
Roxie walked to the front with Kendall.
Kendall’s ponytail was perfect. Her lip gloss was still on. She looked at Roxie’s face and smiled like she had found something useful.
"Rough birthday?" Kendall asked quietly.
Roxie faced forward. "Rough personality?"
Kendall’s smile stayed. "At least mine doesn’t scare people away."
Roxie’s jaw tightened.
Coach Miller looked up from his clipboard. "I hope whatever you two are whispering is about counts."
Roxie said, "Yes, Coach."
Kendall said, "Always."
Coach Miller did not look convinced. "Good. Then listen. Regional fees are due Friday morning. No payment, no travel packet. Travel packet needs parent or guardian signature, medical form, emergency contact, and transportation consent. Attendance is now strict. Any missed practice without a valid reason means you lose your spot. I do not care if you are senior, captain, favorite, popular, dramatic, or heartbroken."
Roxie’s stomach tightened.
Payment.
Money.
Claire was gone.
Claire still hadn’t come home.
Coach Miller continued, "Bus leaves next Saturday at six-thirty. No excuses."
Roxie stared at the floor line.
Friday.
Payment.
Signature.
Pep rally tomorrow.
Game Friday.
Practice every day.
Zac finishing chemistry so he would not have to see her.
Claire’s empty chair in the kitchen.
The flowers still in her locker.
"Jones."
Roxie blinked and looked up.
Coach Miller was watching her.
"Yes, Coach?"
"You with us?"
"Yes."
"Then count like it."
Roxie lifted her chin. "Yes, Coach."
Kendall’s smile flickered beside her.
Practice started hard.
Coach Miller ran them through counts until the gym felt too hot. He stopped them for every lazy arm, every late turn, every shaky landing. Roxie counted louder than everyone else because counting gave her something to do with her mouth besides scream.
"Five, six, seven, eight."
Again.
Her throat burned. Her legs ached. Her head hurt, but it was still better than silence.
After thirty minutes, Coach Miller moved them into the pep rally routine. It had to be sharp by tomorrow. No messy arms. No lazy smiles. No captain looking like she wanted to fight the entire gym.
Roxie knew that last one was about her.
So she focused.
Hard.
She hit every count. Her arms snapped clean. Her turns were tight. Her smile came when the routine needed it, even if it felt like her face might crack from holding it there. She counted over the music, loud enough for the younger girls to follow.
Kendall stood beside her, watching.
Roxie could feel it.
They ran the chorus again.
On the next run, Roxie counted even cleaner. "Five, six, seven, eight."
The group hit the motion together.
Coach Miller nodded once. "Better."
Kendall leaned closer while they reset. "God, sit your ass down. You’re counting like a toddler."
Roxie kept her eyes forward. "I’m sorry, I thought you couldn’t count."
Kendall’s face changed.
Coach Miller looked up from his clipboard. "I hope whatever you two are whispering is about timing."
Roxie said, "Yes, Coach."
Kendall smiled. "Always."
They ran it again.
Roxie stayed focused. Kendall stayed irritated. Every time Coach Miller praised Roxie’s count, Kendall’s mouth pressed tighter. Every time Roxie corrected the line, Kendall moved like the correction had personally insulted her.
By the last run, Kendall was done pretending.
When the music cut, she turned toward Roxie with a smile that looked sweet from far away.
"You know," Kendall said, loud enough for the nearest girls to hear, "being intense doesn’t make you a good captain."
The gym quieted a little.
Roxie turned her head slowly. "Excuse me?"
Kendall lifted her hands. "I’m just saying. You’ve been acting like the team will fall apart if you stop yelling numbers for five seconds."
Roxie stepped closer. "And you’ve been acting like count eight is a rumor."
A few girls looked down.
Karen muttered, "Worth it."
Angela whispered, "Karen."
Coach Miller’s voice came hard. "Jones."
Roxie stopped.
Kendall’s mouth curved.
Roxie saw it.
Kendall wanted her to snap. She wanted Roxie loud. Messy. Easy to point at. The girl with birthday flowers in her locker, rumors around Zac, a mother who didn’t show, and too much anger under her skin.
Roxie forced herself to smile.
"You’re right," she said. "I’ll lower my voice so you can hear the music you keep missing."
Someone choked on a laugh.
Coach Miller pointed at Roxie. "Enough."
By the end, her legs shook from holding everything tight.
Coach Miller looked at Roxie when they finished. "Jones, stay a second."
Kendall left with one last look.
Roxie kept her eyes on Coach Miller.
He waited until the gym doors closed.
Then his voice lowered. "What is going on?"
"Nothing."
His expression did not change. "Try again."
Roxie adjusted the strap of her bag. "I’m tired."
"I can see that." He sighed. "Payment and forms Friday."
"I know."
"Need extra copy?"
"No."
"Need to ask me something?"
Roxie’s chest tightened.
She shook her head. "No."
Coach Miller watched her for another second. "Okay. Go home. Sleep."
Roxie almost laughed.
Two things people kept saying like they were easy.
She left the gym before her face could do something embarrassing.
The hallway was mostly empty now.
Pep rally posters lined the walls. Ravens Rise. Undefeated. Tomorrow, everyone would scream in the gym like school spirit could fix anything.
Roxie stopped at her locker.
The flowers were still inside.
The smell hit her as soon as she opened it.
Roses.
Clean and sweet.
Unsigned.
She stared at them.
Roxie hated him. "Stupid," she whispered.
She grabbed the bouquet.
The trash can was still five steps away.
She walked to it this time and held the flowers over the opening.
All she had to do was let go.
Her fingers tightened around the stems.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
For one second, her heart jumped.
Zac.
Claire.
Anyone.
She pulled it out.
Angela: Mom said you can come over for dinner if you want. Birthday food. No singing unless you consent.
Roxie stared at the message.
Her throat tightened.
She looked at the flowers over the trash can.
Then at Angela’s message.
Then back at the flowers.
She hated this.
She hated that she wanted the flowers.
She hated that she wanted dinner.
She hated that she wanted Zac to ask why she still had them.
She shoved the bouquet back into her locker and slammed it shut.
Then she texted Angela.
Can’t. Home stuff.
The lie sent fast.
Roxie stared at it until the little delivered sign appeared.
Then she put her phone away and walked toward the exit.
Tomorrow was the pep rally.
Friday was the game.
Friday was also payment.
Friday was also forms.
The house was still quiet.
Claire was still gone.
Zac was still Zac.
And Roxie had no idea what she wanted, except that everything she wanted hurt.
