Roxie straightened slowly, one hand still gripping the edge of the box until the floor stopped moving under her.

Zac stood near the corner of the side hallway, alone.

No Mason. No Kyle. No crowd.

Just him, looking tired and irritated and worried all at once.

"You shouldn’t be here," Roxie said.

"You wouldn’t answer."

"I was busy."

"Busy ignoring me?"

Roxie reached into the box and pulled out a tangled handful of pom poms. "Look at you. Solving mysteries."

Zac took a step closer. "What did I do?"

She looked him dead in the eyes.

"You know."

His brows pulled together. "Actually, I don’t."

Roxie laughed once, sharp and tired, and shoved the pom poms into the carry bin.

Zac’s jaw tightened. "I’m serious, Roxie. I’m dumb, remember? So say it directly instead of making me chase an answer."

The word chase hit wrong.

Like she wanted this.

Like she had walked out of the cafeteria so he would follow her and ask questions in a hallway where nobody could see them.

"It was a picture," he said.

"I know it was a picture."

"Then why are you acting like I cheated on you?"

Roxie grabbed another handful of pom poms. "Because it felt like something else."

"That tells me nothing."

"It tells you enough."

"It really doesn’t." Zac stepped closer. "You looked at me like I did something wrong."

"Your face looked guilty before I even said anything."

"Because you looked pissed."

"I was."

"Over a picture."

Roxie’s grip tightened around the pom poms. "Wow. You’re so close to getting it and still missing the whole thing."

Zac stared at her. "Then explain it."

"I shouldn’t have to."

"That’s not fair."

She snapped her eyes back to him. "Fair?"

"Yes, fair." His voice lowered, but the edge stayed. "You told me you’re okay to keep this secret."

Roxie went still.

There it was.

The thing she already knew.

The thing she had been trying to keep under the jealousy, under the hunger, under the ugly twist in her chest when that girl stood beside him like she had every right to be there.

"I know what I said."

"Then how am I the bad guy because people act like I’m single?"

Her throat tightened.

He was right.

That made it worse.

Roxie hated when he was right while she was already hurt.

"I didn’t say you were the bad guy."

"You’re acting like I am."

"I’m acting like I’m jealous."

"Then say that."

"I just did."

"No, you made me drag it out of you."

Roxie threw the pom poms into the bin harder than she needed to. "Because maybe I don’t feel like giving a speech every time something hurts."

Zac’s face changed.

She pointed toward the gym doors. "You had a girl pressed beside you for a picture, and everybody acted like it was cute. Then you looked at me like you knew exactly why it pissed me off. So yes, I’m jealous. Congratulations. You solved it."

"It was one picture."

"I know."

"I stepped back."

"I saw."

"And you’re still mad."

"Yes."

Zac rubbed a hand over his jaw, frustrated. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Take it."

His eyes sharpened. "Take it?"

"Yes. Take it. I’m jealous. I’m being unfair. I know. I’m still mad."

"That makes no sense."

"It makes sense to me."

"That’s not how this works."

Roxie laughed, but it came out thin. "How does this work, Zac? Since we’re apparently having a secret relationship staff meeting beside the pom poms."

"You don’t get to make the rule, then punish me for following it."

The words hit her straight in the chest.

For a second, she had nothing.

Because he was right again.

She had asked for the secret. She had wanted fewer eyes, fewer questions, fewer ways for people to use him against her and her against him. She had wanted control over one part of her life.

Now she hated the cost.

She hated the freshman girl.

She hated every girl who comes close to him.

And she hated that Zac was standing there asking for logic when all she had was hurt.

"I know," she said quietly.

Zac blinked.

Roxie looked away first. "I know, okay? I know I’m being unfair."

His face softened too fast.

She hated that too.

"Roxie—"

"But I’m still pissed," she said, cutting him off. "And I’m allowed to be pissed without making it easy for you."

"I’m trying to understand."

The gym doors shook with a burst of noise from inside. Someone tested the microphone, and the screech went straight through Roxie’s skull.

Her vision dipped again.

She gripped the bin handle.

Zac saw it.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That was something."

"Move."

He stepped closer instead. "Did you eat?"

Roxie closed her eyes. "Oh my God."

"Answer me."

"You and every adult in this school need a support group."

"That means you didn’t."

"It means move."

He reached for the bin. "Give me that."

She pulled it back. "Touch this bin and I’ll throw it at you."

"You’re pale."

"I’m always pale. It’s called being a redhead. Sorry if I’m not tan like the other girls."

Zac pursed his lips. "You’re shaking."

"I’m angry."

"Because you keep standing here making me explain why I’m mad when I already told you."

"You told me to guess."

"I told you that you knew."

"I didn’t."

"Well now you do."

Coach Miller’s voice cut through the hallway.

"Roxie! Pom poms!"

Roxie flinched.

Zac looked toward the gym doors, then back at her.

"Go," she said.

"I’m not leaving you like this."

Her grip tightened on the bin handle. "You already do every time we walk out of a room and pretend we’re nothing."

His face changed.

Roxie regretted it as soon as it came out.

She still stepped around him.

"Roxie."

She kept walking.

The gym swallowed her before he could say anything else.

Sound hit her first.

The bleachers were packed now. Black and red filled every row. Students stomped their feet, clapped in uneven waves, screamed across the gym, and waved signs big enough to block the people behind them.

Roxie crossed the sideline with the bin in her arms.

Angela hurried toward her. "Where were you?"

"Storage."

Karen reached for the bin. "You look like storage fought back."

"I won."

Coach Miller pointed to the line. "Places. Now."

Roxie dropped the bin near the squad and grabbed her pom poms.

The handles rubbed against her sore palms.

She smiled anyway.

That was the job.

Mrs. Gonzalez walked to the center with the microphone.

"Briarwick!"

The gym screamed.

Roxie lifted her chin.

Shoulders back.

Smile bright.

Her stomach pulled tight, then hollowed out again.

She ignored it.

The opening cheer started.

Roxie hit the first count.

Arms sharp.

Smile up.

Step, turn, clap, hit.

The floor felt harder under her shoes than usual. The lights above the gym looked too bright against the black decorations. Every cheer bow, every sign, every phone screen in the bleachers seemed to flicker at once.

She forced herself into the next count.

Angela was on her left. Karen was two spots down. Kendall stood near the front, sharp as ever, ponytail high, smile ready for cameras.

The crowd chanted with them.

Roxie’s hands burned around the pom handles.

Her legs felt loose.

She pushed harder.

The cheer ended, and the gym roared.

Coach Hayes took the microphone next. The football team lined up behind him. Zac stood near the middle with Mason and Kyle.

Roxie tried to avoid looking at him.

She failed.

He was already watching her.

His face was still.

Dylan’s empty space showed near the team.

Coach Hayes talked about Friday, work, pride, pressure. The words came through the speakers with rough edges. Students screamed every time he said State.

Roxie clapped when everyone clapped.

Her palms stung.

Football introductions started.

Mason got loud cheers. Kyle got louder ones because he acted like he had expected them. Then Zac’s name hit the microphone.

"Quarterback and team captain, Zachary Prescott!"

The bleachers shook.

Roxie clapped with the squad, her smile fixed in place.

Zac walked forward.

For a breath, his eyes found hers.

Then the gym tilted.

Roxie blinked.

The floor steadied.

Zac said something into the microphone. Mason leaned in and made the crowd laugh. Kyle yelled from behind him. The boys looked normal. The school looked normal. Everything kept moving like Roxie’s body had only missed one small step inside itself.

She drew a slow breath through her nose.

Bad idea.

The gym smelled like sweat, perfume, floor wax, and cheap face paint.

Her stomach turned.

Then cheer was called to perform again.

Coach Miller clapped once from the sideline. "Positions."

Roxie moved.

Angela glanced at her. "You okay?"

"Fine."

Angela’s eyes stayed on her. "Roxie. You look like you’re about to drop."

"I said fine."

Karen leaned forward from her spot. "You look like you’re about to murder someone or pass out."

"Those are my two settings."

The music started before Karen could answer.

Roxie moved into formation.

This routine was smaller than practice, made for pep rally space, but her body treated it like State finals. Every count felt heavier than the last. Her smile stayed up. Her arms snapped where they needed to snap. Her feet found the marks because they had to.

One, two, three, four.

Turn.

Hit.

Step back.

The sound around her stretched.

For one count, the band and the crowd pulled far away.

Roxie saw Zac past the cheer line, standing with the football team. He was watching her, his body angled like he wanted to move.

She looked away fast.

Focus.

Kendall’s voice cut from the front. "Roxie."

Roxie snapped into the next motion half a beat late.

Her chest tightened.

The lights above the gym blurred at the edges.

She could still hear the music, but the counts came wrong, sliding over each other.

Five, six.

No.

She knew this.

She knew this routine.

Her foot landed.

Her knee buckled.

Angela’s voice came from somewhere close. "Roxie?"

Roxie tried to lift her arm for the next count.

Her hand would not listen.

The pom pom slipped from her fingers.

A sharp hush moved through the girls around her, but the crowd kept screaming because they had not understood yet.

Roxie took one step back.

The floor tilted again.

This time it stayed tilted.

Karen said her name.

Coach Miller’s whistle cut through the music.

The sound pierced straight through her head.

Roxie tried to say she was fine.

Nothing came out.

The gym lights spread into one bright sheet.

Then her legs gave out.