Chapter 150: Chapter 150 - State Semi-Finals
Saturday morning started with Zac’s name lighting up her phone.
Zac: Good luck today.
Roxie sat on the edge of her bed with her cheer bag open by her feet.
Roxie: You too.
His reply came fast.
Zac: We okay?
Roxie stared at the screen.
They had barely talked since the nurse’s office, Bianca’s rumor, and the Winter Formal tickets.
Roxie: Game first.
Zac: Fine.
Roxie: Fine.
That was the relationship right now.
Two people who cared about each other and had no idea how to say anything without making it worse.
Roxie locked her phone and stood.
The house was quiet behind her. Claire’s room was empty again. The bills were still on the kitchen table, turned facedown like paper could stop being real if nobody looked at it.
Roxie grabbed her bag and left.
By the time the cheer squad reached the stadium, the parking lot was already full.
Briarwick had turned the state semifinal into a town event. Parents carried blankets and thermoses. Students had black and red paint on their faces. Teachers wore Ravens scarves like they had been football people their whole lives.
Someone had made a huge poster with Zac’s number in glitter.
Roxie looked at it for half a second, then looked away.
Karen appeared beside her. "That poster is a crime."
"It’s bright."
"It’s glitter," Karen said, like glitter itself had offended her family. "That already makes it a crime."
Roxie could not help it. She chuckled.
Angela came up on Roxie’s other side, holding hair ties and a water bottle. "So, how are you feeling?"
Roxie gave her a look.
Angela lifted one hand. "Friendly question."
Coach Miller called the squad into place before Roxie could answer.
His eyes landed on her for a moment longer than everyone else.
Roxie lifted her chin.
He had benched her for a whole day after the fainting incident. Thankfully, she looked steady enough for the Saturday game, because Coach Miller’s version of concern came with consequences and a whistle.
The football team came out for warmups a few minutes later.
The stadium changed instantly.
The stands rose with noise. Students screamed. Parents clapped. The band hit the first drumline too early because half the players were still running out.
Zac came out near the front.
Helmet in one hand. Black eye paint under both eyes. Hair pushed back. Jersey clean for now.
He looked like the whole field had been waiting for him.
Roxie hated how true that felt.
He looked toward the cheer line before he reached the bench.
His gaze found her.
His face shifted for half a second.
Then Mason slapped his shoulder, Coach Hayes called his name, and Zac turned away.
That was all she got.
One look in the middle of a stadium.
Dylan came out a few players behind him. His wrist was taped hard under his glove, thicker than usual around the thumb, but the rest of him moved fine. He ran routes, joked with one of the linebackers, and acted like everyone worrying about him was personally insulting.
The first quarter started rough.
Briarwick missed its rhythm early. It reminded Roxie of the Regional Championship, when everyone acted calm because they had been behind before, but the nerves still showed in the way people gripped their banners and shouted too quickly.
Roxie tried to act calm too.
Her heart ignored her.
The other team’s defense came fast, breaking timing and forcing Zac to throw before his receivers opened cleanly. The first drive died near midfield. The second looked better until a pass bounced off Dylan’s taped hand and hit the grass.
The away side screamed.
Briarwick groaned.
Dylan picked the ball up and tossed it to the referee like it meant nothing.
Roxie hit the cheer motions anyway.
Smile.
Clap.
Call the chant.
Keep the school loud.
That was her job.
The first half kept tightening around them.
Briarwick gained a few yards, lost a few more, then punted. The defense held once, then gave up a long pass that made the away crowd explode. Coach Hayes paced the sideline with one hand on his headset and the other cutting sharp signals through the air.
Zac came off the field after another failed drive and pulled his helmet off hard.
Roxie saw the frustration in his shoulders.
She hated that she knew him well enough to read it from across a field.
Karen yelled beside her, voice already going hoarse. "Move the ball, Ravens!"
Angela clapped on count, bright and steady, but her eyes kept flicking toward the scoreboard.
By halftime, Briarwick was down by ten.
The cheer squad ran the short playoff routine during the break. Roxie hit every count. Her legs burned, but her head stayed clear. Coach Miller gave her one sharp nod when they came off the track.
Across the field, Zac stood with Coach Hayes and the offense. Hayes held the clipboard while Zac listened with his jaw tight. Mason stood close, helmet tucked under one arm, talking low. Dylan was nearby too, flexing his fingers once before shoving his hand behind his back when Zac glanced at him.
The team looked tense.
Zac looked worse than tense.
He looked like he was trying to solve something while the whole town waited for him to be brilliant.
The third quarter began with Briarwick still fighting for rhythm.
A short run picked up three yards.
A quick pass to Reed got five.
Then the defense broke through and forced Zac out of the pocket. He threw the ball away before the hit came, and Coach Hayes shouted something that made Zac nod without looking at him.
The crowd grew restless.
Roxie felt it in the stands.
Every incomplete pass pulled a sound from them. Every short gain made people clap like they were begging the field to change. Every time Zac looked toward the sideline, a dozen people seemed to hold their breath.
It was strange, watching a whole stadium wait for one boy to fix the day.
It should have been ridiculous.
It was ridiculous.
Roxie’s throat still tightened.
Because she knew that boy.
She knew how his jaw locked when he was mad. She knew the way he looked at his phone when he wanted to say something and couldn’t. She knew what his voice sounded like when he said her name with nobody listening.
And right now, he looked like he belonged to everyone.
The fourth quarter started with Briarwick still down.
The defense gave them the ball back with five minutes left. The stands shook with noise. The cheer squad went louder because Coach Miller’s voice cut behind them like a command.
Roxie lifted her poms.
"Who owns the sky?"
"Ravens!" Briarwick answered.
Zac jogged onto the field.
The drive started safe.
A short pass to Reed.
A run up the middle.
Another quick pass that barely made the first down.
The clock kept moving.
Roxie’s chest felt tight.
Briarwick crossed midfield with less than two minutes left.
Down by four.
The next play failed.
The one after that gained only two yards.
Third down became fourth.
The stadium noise thinned for half a second. Everyone held their breath.
Karen grabbed Roxie’s wrist. "I hate football."
"You love football."
"I love winning football."
Angela whispered, "Come on."
On the field, Coach Hayes signaled.
Zac walked to the line.
Roxie watched him look over the defense.
Dylan lined up wide on the right.
Mason crouched over the ball at center, steady and low, ready to snap it back to Zac.
Kyle set himself on the line beside him, shoulders squared, already looking like he wanted someone to try him.
Reed, one of the backup receivers, stood on the left side with barely anyone paying attention to him.
Roxie’s eyes moved over all of them before landing on Zac.
He stood behind Mason, hands ready, face calm in a way that made her stomach twist.
The stadium was loud.
Zac looked like he heard none of it.
Then he saw it.
Roxie saw the moment he saw it.
His shoulders changed.
Karen muttered, "He’s about to do something."
Angela asked, "Good something or bad something?"
"With Zac?" Karen said. "Usually both."
Zac stepped back from the line and called something.
The offense shifted.
Coach Hayes shouted, "Prescott!"
Zac ignored him.
The ball snapped.
Zac looked right first.
Straight at Dylan.
The defense bit.
Dylan ran hard, pulling coverage with him.
Zac turned left.
Reed slipped open near the opposite sideline.
Zac threw.
For a second, the stadium seemed to hang there with the ball.
Reed caught it.
The sideline exploded.
He stumbled, stayed up, and ran.
The final defender came late.
Reed crossed the goal line with the ball locked against his chest.
Touchdown.
The stadium lost its mind.
Karen grabbed Roxie’s arm and shook her hard enough to almost knock a pom loose. Angela was jumping beside them, hair coming out of place, face bright with shock.
The kick went through.
Briarwick took the lead by three.
The last minute stretched forever.
The defense held.
The final pass from the other team hit the turf.
Clock out.
Game over.
Briarwick won.
The field broke open with bodies.
Players threw helmets. Students pressed against the rails. Teachers filmed from the track. The band tried to play the fight song, but half of them were screaming through it.
Roxie stood near the cheer line and watched Zac disappear inside his team.
They lifted him first.
Mason had him around the waist. Kyle shouted in his face. Dylan shoved through them with his taped wrist raised and slammed his other hand against Zac’s shoulder.
Zac laughed.
A real laugh.
The crowd started chanting.
"Prescott! Prescott! Prescott!"
Roxie watched from the sideline.
Before, she would have laughed at the whole thing. A town acting like one teenage boy had saved them from disaster would have been ridiculous.
Now it hurt.
Because that boy was hers.
And also, he belonged to all of this.
The crowd.
The team.
The banners.
The future everyone already saw for him.
People waited for him after the game. Coaches. Reporters. Parents. Boosters. School media. Younger players reaching for high fives like touching him meant something.
His life looked huge.
Roxie looked down at her hands.
Her palms were red from clapping. Her nails had chipped polish. Her skin still felt rough from dishwater.
She had a dark house waiting for her.
A missing mother.
Bills on the table.
A single Winter Formal ticket inside her bag.
How did he even like her?
The thought came fast and mean.
She hated it.
Then she kept thinking it anyway.
Zac was pulled toward the sideline for an interview. His hair was wet with sweat, eye paint smeared near one cheek, jersey stained with grass.
The reporter leaned closer. "Zac, huge win tonight. What made the difference on that final drive?"
Zac looked back at his team first.
Mason was yelling something at Reed. Kyle had both hands on his helmet. Dylan stood behind them, grinning like his wrist had never existed.
Zac faced the microphone.
"It was the team," he said, still breathing hard. "Everybody did their job. Coaches kept us in it. The guys trusted each other. And that’s why we’re moving on."
The reporter nodded. "And the crowd?"
Zac smiled a little, glancing toward the stands. "Yeah. The people who showed up for us matter too. We felt that."
The reporter leaned back in with the microphone. "Before they drag you off, anybody you want to thank?"
Zac’s eyes stayed near the cheer line.
Not on Roxie.
Near her.
Safe enough for everyone else.
Close enough for her to feel it.
His smile softened by a fraction. "Everybody who kept believing in us."
The crowd cheered again.
Roxie’s chest warmed before she could stop it.
He saw her.
That was the closest he could come to saying it here, with cameras on him and half the town chanting his name.
Then the warmth twisted.
Had she believed in him today?
Or had she spent the whole week making his hardest game harder?
Before she could answer herself, Mason grabbed Zac from behind, and the team swallowed him again.
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