Chapter 119: Chapter 119 - Playoff Win
The word stayed in Roxie’s head all night and the next day.
Official.
It followed her through first period. Through lunch. Through Coach Miller’s final reminder that regional payment and forms were due. Through Karen stealing fries from her tray. Through Angela asking twice why she kept staring at nothing.
Official.
Like Zac had any idea what that meant.
Like he could just say it in the back of the gym with his mouth red from hers, a scratch on his cheek, and a cracked cookie container in his hand.
Come home with me for Thanksgiving.
Let’s make us official.
Roxie hated him for saying it like that.
She hated him more because she had run.
She had grabbed her cheer bag and walked out before he could say anything else. She went home after that with her whole body still hot and her head loud enough to make the quiet house worse.
Now it was Friday night, and she was standing on the track in her uniform while the Ravens’ playoff game roared around her.
Playoffs.
Cheering duty.
Smile. Count. Clap. Chant. Kick. Repeat.
Easy.
Except Zac was on the sideline.
And he kept looking at her.
Roxie felt it before she saw it.
That was the annoying part. She would be facing the student section, leading a chant, and the back of her neck would prickle. She would turn halfway and there he was, sitting on the bench with his helmet between his knees, eyes fixed on her like the whole field had gone quiet.
The first time, she glared.
The second time, she looked away.
The third time, Karen noticed.
"Oh," Karen said beside her, clapping on beat. "That’s dangerous."
Roxie kept smiling toward the student section. "What?"
"Quarterback keeps looking."
"He has eyes."
"He is using them aggressively on a captain who supposedly hate him."
Angela leaned in from Roxie’s other side. "Is this about the boy who looked at you like he was about to ruin your life?"
Roxie’s smile stiffened. "That describes half the boys in this school."
Karen snorted. "Wait. You’re smiling."
Roxie smiled wider towards the student section. "We need to smile Karen."
Karen shook her head. "No. This is weird."
Angela looked at Karen. "No. You’re being weird."
Roxie raised her pom-poms higher and called the next chant louder. "Defense! Defense!"
The crowd followed.
Karen still looked at her. "You’re nervous, your face is red, your eyes are twitchy."
"My eyes are not twitchy."
"You are nervous."
Roxie cut her eyes to her. "I am not."
Angela’s face softened. "Hey! Stop the interrogation."
"What happened after the pep rally? You were gone in a flash."
Roxie’s hands tightened around the handles of her pom-poms. "Nothing," Roxie said.
Karen’s eyes narrowed. "You better not be meeting him behind our back."
Roxie laughed once. "Behind your back? What are you, my parole officer?"
"I could be."
Angela gave Karen a look. "Let her be."
Karen raised both hands. "Fine. I’m being very calm."
"You’re never calm."
"I’m calm compared to her."
Roxie looked back at the field because that was safer than looking at either of them.
Zac stood from the bench.
He put his helmet on.
The crowd changed at once.
The Ravens were down by three with four minutes left in the second quarter, and everyone knew the offense needed him to fix it. Mason slapped the side of Zac’s helmet. Coach Hayes leaned close and spoke fast. Zac nodded, calm in that irritating way that always made him look like he had control even when the whole stadium was screaming.
Then he looked at Roxie again.
Longer this time.
Her stomach pulled tight.
She cursed him under her breath.
Karen turned to the crowd with a bright smile. "Let’s go, Ravens!"
Angela smiled too, but her eyes kept flicking toward Roxie.
Roxie hated being watched.
She hated being read.
She hated that Zac could look at her from across a football field and make her feel like everyone knew he had kissed her against the folded bleachers. Like everyone could see the way her body still remembered his hands. Like everyone could hear him saying, Let’s make us official.
Official where?
At his house?
In front of his parents?
His father already thought she was trouble. His mother probably show her a polite smile while sharpening the knife at the same time.
Zac wanted to start there?
At the hardest level?
He was insane.
The whistle blew.
The ball snapped.
Roxie forgot to clap for half a second.
Karen bumped her with an elbow. "Rox."
Roxie snapped back into the chant.
Zac dropped back.
The line held for two seconds, then cracked. A defender came around the side. Zac stepped away from the pressure, shoulder turning, eyes downfield. The stadium noise rose.
He threw.
The ball sailed clean over the middle.
Mason caught it and got hit hard, but he held on.
First down.
The Ravens side exploded.
Roxie jumped with the rest of the team, shouting because she was supposed to shout, because that was her job, because yelling for Zac in public was allowed when there were points attached to it.
He jogged back to the huddle.
Then, like an idiot, he looked at her again.
Roxie’s breath caught.
Angela leaned close. "Okay. That was not nothing."
Roxie kept her eyes on the field. "He’s just being annoying."
"Roxie."
The game tightened after halftime.
The other team hit harder in the third quarter, and the Ravens’ offense stalled twice. Zac got sacked once near midfield. Roxie saw him go down under two defenders, and her hands went cold before she could stop it.
He got up slowly.
Roxie stopped breathing until he rolled his shoulders and waved off Coach Hayes.
Angela touched her arm. "He’s okay."
"I know."
"You looked scared."
"I was watching the play."
Karen said, "Your emotions are leaking, really."
Roxie glared at her.
Karen shut up for once.
Fourth quarter came with the Ravens down by four.
The air felt sharp. The student section was losing its mind. Coach Miller kept the cheer team moving because dead air made panic worse. Roxie shouted until her throat burned. Her legs hurt from jumping. Her cheeks ached from smiling.
Zac took the field with two minutes left.
This time, he did not look at her.
That bothered her too.
She wanted him to stop staring.
Then he stopped, and she wanted to throw a pom-pom at his head.
He drove the team down the field like he had something to prove. Short pass. Run. Another pass. Out of bounds. Clock stopped. First down.
The crowd got louder with every yard.
Roxie’s heart beat too fast.
With twenty-three seconds left, the Ravens were at the twelve-yard line.
Zac stood in shotgun.
The ball snapped.
Pressure came fast.
He stepped up, spun out of a tackle, and threw toward the corner of the end zone.
For one second, the whole stadium held still.
Mason jumped.
Caught it.
Touchdown.
The Ravens side erupted.
Karen screamed in Roxie’s ear. Angela grabbed Roxie’s arm and jumped. The band exploded into the fight song. The football team flooded the field, and Zac disappeared under helmets, arms, and shouting bodies.
Roxie cheered because everyone was cheering.
The Ravens had won again.
They were moving forward.
Zac had done it again.
Roxie’s chest felt too full and too empty at the same time.
After the final whistle, the cheer team lined up, smiled, waved, sang the school song, and pretended their feet did not hurt. Roxie kept her face bright until Coach Miller dismissed them near the track entrance.
"Regional forms," Coach Miller called over the noise. "Anyone who still needs to pay, see me before you leave. I will be in the faculty office for fifteen minutes. Friday deadline means Friday deadline."
Roxie’s stomach dropped.
For a second, she had forgotten.
Roxie waited until they were gone before walking toward the main building.
The faculty office was too bright and too quiet after the game. Coach Miller sat behind a desk with a folder open in front of him, checking names off a list. A few cheerleaders stood near the door with envelopes in their hands.
Roxie got in line.
Her palms felt damp.
One girl paid and left.
Then another.
Then it was Roxie’s turn.
Coach Miller looked up. "Jones."
She set her form on the desk.
He checked the signature line. "Form is complete."
Roxie nodded.
"Payment?"
Her hand went into her bag.
She had counted the money three times before the game.
Still short.
She had known it.
She had walked here anyway, like maybe the numbers would change if she looked at them under fluorescent lights.
They didn’t.
She pulled out the folded bills and placed them on the desk.
Coach Miller counted once.
Then looked up.
"This is short."
Roxie’s face heated. "I know."
"How short?"
"Twenty-five."
Coach Miller leaned back slightly. Looking carefully at her face.
"I can bring it Monday," she said fast.
"Bring it when you can."
"Thank you coach but I promise it’s here by Monday." Her face stiff with shame.
Coach Miller looked hard at her then sighed. "Alright. I’ll wait for it."
She left the office before her face could change.
The hallway outside felt colder.
Twenty-five dollars.
That was all.
A stupid amount and still too much.
She could ask for more hours at the grill. Maybe cover another shift if they let her. She could ask Mrs. Robinson for extra babysitting, maybe Friday night after the game next week, maybe Sunday afternoon. She could skip lunch for a few days, but that would barely matter. She have bills now, even if she did not understand half of them.
Eighteen.
Adult.
Alone.
Roxie pressed her hand against her stomach and kept walking.
The parking lot was half full when she pushed through the side doors. The game crowd was thinning, but the field lights were still on behind the school. Cars pulled out slowly. People shouted across the lot. Someone honked twice near the entrance.
Roxie adjusted her cheer bag and headed for the far side where she usually cut across to the sidewalk.
Then she stopped.
Zac was leaning against his truck.
Still in his team hoodie now, jersey collar visible underneath, hair damp, face tired. The scratch on his cheek was still there, a thin red line under the parking lot lights.
He was waiting.
Roxie’s chest tightened at once.
His eyes found hers.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then Zac pushed off the truck.
Roxie gripped the strap of her bag.
"Are you following me now?" she called.
His face stayed serious.
"No," he said. "I’m waiting for you."
That was worse.
Roxie swallowed hard.
The parking lot noise moved around them, but his stare stayed fixed on her.
She had no idea if he wanted to fight.
She had no idea if she wanted him to.
Zac stopped a few feet away.
"Did you think about it?" he asked.
Roxie’s pulse kicked.
Thanksgiving.
Official.
Us.
She looked at his scratched cheek, then at his mouth, then away before he could see too much.
"You won a playoff game," she said. "Go celebrate."
"I asked you a question."
"And I ignored it."
"I noticed."
Roxie’s hand tightened on her bag strap.
Zac stepped closer, voice lower.
"Think faster."
