Roxie did not breathe.

She was half on top of Zac, one hand pressed against his chest while her knees were trapped awkwardly on either side of the cot. His hands hovered near her waist, like he was trying to keep her from falling without touching her more than necessary, which was stupid because she was already on him and one thin nurse’s curtain was the only thing standing between this and a hallway scandal.

Zac’s eyes stayed on hers, wide and stunned for half a second before they dropped to her mouth.

Roxie’s face went hot.

Absolutely not here. Absolutely not behind a nurse’s curtain while Mason lied like an idiot in the hallway.

Footsteps came closer.

Nurse Palmer’s voice cut through the room. "Mason, why are you still here?"

"He’s still resting," Mason called loudly. "Coach said I should wait with him."

Zac’s jaw tightened.

Roxie glared at him silently, like he was responsible for Mason existing.

He mouthed, I didn’t know.

She mouthed back, I hate you.

His mouth twitched.

She pinched his side.

Zac sucked in a breath.

Nurse Palmer stopped walking. "What was that?"

Mason answered too fast. "Pain."

A pause followed.

"Whose pain?"

"Team pain," Mason said.

Roxie closed her eyes because they were all going to die in here, and it was going to be Mason’s fault.

The curtain shifted slightly as Nurse Palmer moved closer. Roxie froze so hard her muscles started to hurt. Zac’s hand finally settled at her waist, steadying her when the cot creaked under them.

Her eyes snapped to his.

He looked just as alarmed as she felt.

Nurse Palmer stopped on the other side of the curtain, and for one long second, nobody moved.

Then she sighed.

"Zac," she said.

Zac cleared his throat. "Yes, ma’am?"

"I don’t care who you have behind that curtain."

Roxie’s entire soul left her body.

Mason made a strangled sound from the doorway.

Nurse Palmer continued, voice flat. "I don’t care what dramatic teenage situation I interrupted, and I don’t care why Mason is standing there looking like he committed a crime. Keep the ice on your shoulder, close the room after I leave, and do not make me write a report before I go home."

Zac’s ears turned red.

Roxie stared at his chest because looking at his face would end her.

"Yes, ma’am," Zac said roughly.

Nurse Palmer’s shoes squeaked as she turned away. "And Mason?"

"Yes, ma’am?"

"Stop helping."

Mason went quiet before saying, "Right. Great advice."

The door opened, then closed.

For three seconds, nobody spoke.

Then Mason whispered from the other side of the curtain, "So... progress?"

Roxie shoved the curtain aside so fast Mason stepped back. She climbed off Zac, grabbed her bag from the floor, and pointed straight at Mason.

"Run."

Mason ran.

He literally ran. His football cleats squeaked down the hallway like he had finally discovered fear, which was cute for him.

Zac sat up slowly, pressing the ice pack to his shoulder. "Thanks for coming."

Roxie’s cheeks burned. She stopped but did not turn around. "Because your idiot friend shoved me there."

He stayed quiet for a beat. When she reached the doorway he spoke again, voice lower.

"You still came."

Silence stretched between them.

Roxie gripped the strap of her bag tighter. "Goodbye, Zac."

"Can I text you later?"

Her first answer was no.

Then she thought about the drink on her desk, the goodnight text, and the way he had looked genuinely shocked when she walked into the nurse’s office because he had not planned Mason’s stupid hostage mission.

She glanced over her shoulder. "Only if you keep the ice on."

His smile came slowly. "That’s a yes."

Roxie rolled her eyes and walked away before he could see how close she was to smiling.

She texted him back that night.

One word.

Goodnight.

Then she threw her phone onto the bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.

He did not send anything else. That should have made Friday easier but it did not.

Game day took over Briarwick before first period even started. Jerseys appeared over uniforms, face paint showed up near the lockers, and student council girls handed out cheap ribbons by the cafeteria.

Roxie survived the day by keeping herself busy.

By the time the team came out for warmups that night, the stadium was already loud enough to make her throat tense.

Zac was throwing with Mason near the sideline. His shoulder was taped under his jersey, and the split at his mouth looked darker under the stadium lights.

Mason caught a pass, pointed at Zac, then pointed toward the cheer line with a warning face.

Zac did not look over, which made her cheeks burn.

Was she really distracting him?

"Why are you blushing while looking at number seven?" Angela asked, poking her cheek.

"Nothing," she said walking away.

The whistle blew, and the game started fast.

Briarwick’s defense came out angry. Kyle hit someone so hard the student section screamed like they had been personally blessed. Mason ran through a tackle on the first drive and came up beating his chest until Coach Hayes yelled at him to get back in formation.

Zac stayed sharp. His calls came quick, his throws stayed clean, and his shoulder had to be hurting, but he kept his face locked down and his eyes on the field.

Mostly.

During a timeout, his helmet came off and his gaze shifted toward the track.

Roxie felt it before she met it.

His eyes found hers under the stadium lights for one dangerous second.

Mason shoved him from behind.

Zac looked away fast, and Roxie had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

Angela leaned closer during the next chant. "Did he just look at you?"

"No."

"He literally did."

"He was looking at the scoreboard."

"The scoreboard is not in your face."

Karen said, "Technically, Roxie’s face is very distracting."

Roxie turned back to the field before she said something.

Briarwick scored first near the end of the first quarter. Zac dropped back, waited half a second, then hit Dylan near the sideline. Dylan cut inside, slipped one defender, and stretched into the end zone while the stadium went insane.

The cheer line erupted into motion.

Roxie hit the count cleanly, with her smile up, her arms sharp, and her voice loud enough to burn her throat. Inside, her chest was doing something inconvenient.

Zac ran to Dylan and grabbed the side of his helmet, yelling something Roxie could not hear. Mason slammed into them both a second later and nearly knocked them over.

The second quarter got rougher.

The other team started bringing pressure, and Zac got knocked down twice. The second hit made Roxie’s hands tighten around her poms. He rolled to one knee, shook off the lineman trying to help him, and stood before Coach Hayes could reach him.

At halftime, Briarwick was up by four.

The squad performed the short routine near midfield, and Roxie forced her body to move like she had slept, eaten, and developed a normal relationship with stress. Kendall was on her left, smiling too brightly. Angela was on her right, breathless but sharp.

The student section screamed through the ending stunt, and Roxie landed with her chin high while phones flashed from the bleachers.

For three seconds, she felt like herself again.

Then Kendall looked at her from the corner of her eye.

Her smile stayed sweet, but her eyes did not match it.

Roxie smiled back because Kendall was not getting even one crack.

By the fourth quarter, Briarwick led by three.

The stadium had turned feral. Every snap mattered now. Coach Hayes paced the sideline with one hand on his headset, looking like he wanted to fight the clock. Mason kept talking to the offense in the huddle, hands moving fast. Zac stood in the middle, helmet tilted low, listening.

The ball snapped.

Pressure came hard from the right.

Zac stepped up as the pocket collapsed. Someone grabbed his jersey, and he twisted free with his shoulder jerking wrong enough that Roxie’s breath caught.

Then he threw.

The ball cut through the lights, clean and fast.

Dylan caught it near the numbers and took off.

The stadium rose before he even reached the end zone.

Touchdown.

Briarwick exploded.

Roxie screamed with everyone else, not caring that her throat burned. Angela grabbed her arm. Karen jumped beside them. The student section pounded the bleachers so hard the sound shook through the track.

On the field, Mason tackled Zac in celebration, which was insane considering the shoulder.

The game ended with Briarwick winning by ten.

Players flooded the field. Students leaned over the railings, shouting names. Parents clapped. Coach Hayes grabbed Zac by the back of his shoulder pads and said something that made Zac nod while he was still breathing hard.

Mason ran past the cheer line, helmet in one hand, grinning like a menace.

"Creekside," he shouted. "Everyone’s going."

Angela’s eyes lit up. "Party."

Karen sighed. "I knew peace would not last."

Roxie wiped sweat from her neck. "I’m going home."

Angela turned to her. "No, you are not."

"Yes, I am."

"You just watched Briarwick win again, your maybe-boyfriend played through pain. You are required to join his victory party."

"It’s not his—."

Karen cut Mason off. "You need to go."

Mason grinned and jogged off.

She looked at them. "Okay."

Karen looked in the sky like she wanted to cry. "Hold me Angela. Roxie’s finally gonna date."

She rolled her eyes at them.

Across the field, Zac pulled off his helmet and looked toward her.

Mason said something beside him.

Roxie should have turned away, but she did not.

Through the noise and celebration and the whole school acting like the night belonged to them, Zac’s eyes stayed on hers.

Then his phone appeared in his hand.

A second later, hers buzzed.

Roxie looked down.

Zac: You coming?

Her pulse jumped.

Angela leaned over her shoulder. "Oh my God."

Roxie locked the screen immediately. "Personal space."

"You’re texting. Show us." Karen tried to grab her phone, but Roxie hid it fast.

"We were not."

Angela grinned. "Sure."

Roxie looked across the field again.

Zac was still watching.

Mason stood beside him, making exaggerated kissing faces until Zac shoved him hard enough to make him stumble.

Roxie rolled her eyes and typed back.

Thirty minutes.

Zac read it.

His smile came slow.

Roxie slipped her phone into her bag before Angela could squeal again.

"Thirty minutes," she said.

Angela clapped. "That’s enough time to take him home."

Karen started walking toward the exit. "I’m driving before someone changes her mind."

Roxie followed them, still feeling the stadium noise under her skin.

Behind her, Briarwick kept celebrating, and somewhere across the field, Zac Prescott had stopped pretending he was not looking.

Roxie smiled despite herself.

It lasted exactly three seconds.

Then she noticed Kendall watching both of them.