Mr. Robinson came in like he had crossed the parking lot in half the time a normal person would take.

Her heart thudded hard.

He wore a button-down shirt with the sleeves pushed to his forearms, his hair slightly messed from the wind, and his face set in a way Roxie had only seen when Jason had almost fallen off the backyard swing set.

"Roxxane."

The room changed with his voice.

Angela moved back a little.

Karen looked between him and Roxie.

Coach Miller straightened.

Roxie tried to smile. "Hi."

Please don’t say anything.

She had called him because she needed an adult.

She had somehow forgotten the worst part.

Zac knew him.

Mr. Robinson knew Zac.

And the last time they had been in the same space, Zac Prescott had opened his stupid mouth and called him her sugar daddy.

Her stomach twisted.

Mr. Robinson came straight to the bed, then stopped like he was making himself slow down. His eyes moved over her face, the cup, the crackers, the blanket, and Nurse Palmer.

Then, for half a second, his gaze shifted toward the hallway.

Roxie’s fingers tightened around the blanket.

Zac was still outside the door.

Of course he was.

Mr. Robinson looked back at Roxie.

His face stayed calm.

Too calm.

"What happened?" he asked.

"She fainted during the pep rally," Nurse Palmer said. "She is awake and stable. Exhaustion, dehydration, and lack of food are likely factors. She needs rest, fluids, and a proper meal."

Mr. Robinson’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed controlled. "I understand."

He did not ask why Claire had failed to answer.

He did not ask why Roxie had no one else.

He did not ask why Zac Prescott was standing outside the nurse’s office like he had a right to be there.

He just nodded and listened.

Roxie hated how relieved that made her.

Nurse Palmer had him sign the release form.

Coach Miller stepped closer to Roxie’s side of the bed. "No practice today. Tomorrow, we talk before you touch a mat."

Roxie opened her mouth.

His face hardened.

She closed it.

"Fine," she muttered.

"Smart answer."

Angela hugged her carefully, like Roxie was made of glass.

Roxie endured it for three seconds before patting her back. "You’re getting my fainting germs."

Angela sniffed. "That is not real."

"You don’t know that."

Karen hugged her next, harder and faster. "You owe me emotional damages."

Roxie’s throat tightened. "Bill me."

"I will."

Karen pulled away and gave her a smile that still looked wrong at the edges.

Mr. Robinson helped Roxie stand.

The room shifted, but less this time.

His hand steadied her elbow.

Roxie hated needing it.

She also held on.

They walked out of the nurse’s office together.

Zac stood across the hall.

He went completely still when he saw Mr. Robinson’s hand at Roxie’s elbow.

Roxie saw the moment recognition hit.

His eyes moved from Mr. Robinson’s hand, to Roxie’s face, to the release papers in Mr. Robinson’s other hand.

Then his jaw tightened.

Be smart, Zac.

Please.

The last time he had seen Mr. Robinson, he had been jealous, rude, and completely wrong. Roxie could still hear it in her head. Sugar daddy. Like she had not wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

If Zac took one step toward them now, if he said anything, if he made this ugly in front of Angela, Karen, Coach Miller, and Coach Hayes, Roxie would never forgive him.

Her chest hurt.

Zac’s mouth parted like he wanted to say something.

Coach Hayes stood beside him.

Students moved at the far end of the hallway.

Angela and Karen were still behind Roxie.

Mr. Robinson’s hand stayed steady at her elbow.

Zac said nothing.

Roxie said nothing too.

She walked past him with Mr. Robinson beside her and felt Zac’s eyes follow her all the way to the door.

Outside, the cold air hit her face.

Mr. Robinson guided her carefully toward the car. "Slow."

"I can walk."

"I know."

She glanced at him.

He opened the passenger door. "Walk slowly anyway."

Roxie got in because arguing required energy she had already spent in the gym.

Mr. Robinson closed the door and went around to the driver’s side.

For a moment, the car was quiet.

Warm air pushed through the vents.

Roxie leaned her head back and stared through the windshield at the school.

The front doors opened again.

Zac stood there.

Too far to hear.

Close enough to see.

Mr. Robinson started the car.

Roxie looked away before Zac disappeared from view.

"You gave them my number," Mr. Robinson said.

Roxie braced herself.

His voice stayed even. "I’m glad."

That made her throat close.

She looked out the window. "Claire didn’t answer."

"I figured."

He pulled out of the parking space.

Roxie kept her eyes on the road ahead.

The school slipped behind them, all black banners, red ribbons, and loud pride trapped behind glass doors.

Her phone buzzed in her bag.

Once.

Then again.

Roxie did not reach for it.

Mr. Robinson glanced at the bag, then back at the road. "Is it that boy?"

Roxie’s head turned fast.

He kept driving.

Heat climbed up her neck despite the cold still sitting in her bones. "Uhm—"

Mr. Robinson’s mouth tightened like he already regretted asking.

"The quarterback," he said.

Roxie stared at him.

He kept his eyes on the road. "The one from before."

From before.

As if before had been a normal meeting.

As if Zac had not stood there looking at Mr. Robinson like he had bought Roxie at an auction.

Roxie looked out the window harder. "It’s complicated."

"I remember."

That was worse than if he had lectured her.

The phone buzzed again.

Roxie let it.

For once, Zac could wait.

A few quiet seconds passed.

Then Mr. Robinson said, "I saw Claire on Route 9 yesterday."

Roxie sat straighter too fast.

The seat belt pulled against her chest, and the whole car tipped slightly in her vision.

She forced herself back against the seat. "I see."

Mr. Robinson glanced at her. "When does she usually come home?"

"She’ll be back before midnight."

The lie came out too fast.

Route 9.

The gas stations. The old motel. The liquor store with the cracked sign. The side roads that led nowhere useful unless someone was looking for trouble.

Roxie stared through the windshield and tried to keep her face empty.

Claire had no reason to be near Route 9.

That was the problem.

Mr. Robinson’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Was she like this all the time?"

Roxie’s stomach went cold.

She could not tell him about Claire.

Mr. Robinson had already done too much. Babysitting money. Rides when things got bad. His family making room for her like it was easy.

She could not hand him this too.

"No," Roxie said. "She’s a good mom. Maybe you thought you saw her."

Mr. Robinson glanced at her.

"Maybe," he said.

He did not sound like he believed it.

Roxie looked out the window.

The school was gone now. For one stupid second, she wanted to be back in the nurse’s office with Angela crying, Karen joking too hard, Coach Miller angry, and Zac standing outside the door like a problem she could almost understand.

This was worse.

This was Claire.

This was home.

"Take me home," she said after a moment of silence. "Please."

Mr. Robinson looked at her. "You need food first."

"I have food at home."

"You are going home with me first. Cynthia would not rest if I left you there like this."

Roxie turned to him. "Mr. Robinson."

His voice stayed firm. "You fainted less than an hour ago. You are pale, shaking, and running on crackers. I am taking you to my house. You will eat."

Roxie looked away before her face could betray her again.

Outside the window, Briarwick’s black and red banners faded behind them.

Her phone buzzed in her bag again.

Once.

Then again.

Roxie did not need to look to know it was Zac.

For more than once today, she let it ring.