Roxie barely slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, her phone lit up in her head.

The bus photo.

The bleacher photo.

The comments.

The unknown number.

By morning, her eyes felt heavy, her scalp ached from where she had kept pulling her curls into place, and her mood was bad enough that even Karen took one look at her in the hallway and said nothing.

Which was new.

By afternoon, Roxie had almost convinced herself she could survive the rest of the day without anything else happening.

Then her name came over the intercom while she was changing for practice.

"Roxie Jones, please report to the principal’s office immediately."

The locker room went quiet.

A few girls looked over. Someone stopped tying her shoe. Angela’s eyes widened from the next bench.

Across the room, Kendall was fixing her ponytail in the mirror.

Roxie pulled her hoodie back on and grabbed her bag.

Angela stood. "Do you want me to come?"

"No." Roxie zipped her bag. "It’s probably nothing."

Karen gave her a look. "That was the least believable sentence you’ve said all week."

Roxie almost smiled.

"Don’t let anyone touch my spot," she said.

Karen’s eyes slid toward Kendall. "Gladly."

Roxie walked out before anyone could ask another question.

The hallway to the office felt too bright and too clean. Too normal for the kind of mess waiting at the end of it. A few students glanced at her as she passed, then looked down at their phones like they had not just been hoping for a better angle.

Roxie kept walking.

When she reached the principal’s office, the door was already open.

Her mom was inside.

Roxie stopped in the doorway.

For a second, she just stared.

Her mother sat in the chair beside the desk with one leg crossed over the other, her purse in her lap, looking like someone had called her out of a salon appointment instead of work. Her dark hair was smooth. Her lipstick was perfect. Her face had that soft, concerned look she used when adults were watching.

Different from the face Roxie usually got at home.

"Roxie, sweetheart," her mom said, patting the chair beside her. "Come sit."

Sweetheart.

Roxie hated when she did that.

She walked in and sat down.

Mrs. Delgado sat behind the desk with a folder open in front of her. She looked serious in the way adults looked serious when they had already decided the meeting was not going to end in your favor.

"Roxxane," Mrs. Delgado said, folding her hands on the desk. "We’ve received several complaints about a photo circulating around school."

Roxie kept her face still.

Of course.

"The bus photo?" she asked.

Mrs. Delgado’s mouth tightened. "Yes. And another photo taken yesterday after practice. You and Zac Prescott on the bleachers."

Her mom turned to look at her.

Roxie stared at the folder on the desk.

"We were doing chemistry work," Roxie said.

Mrs. Delgado looked at her over the folder. "That may be true, but the situation is becoming disruptive. Parents have called. Teachers have reported students discussing it in class. We’re concerned about the behavior being represented here."

Roxie’s fingers curled around the strap of her bag.

The behavior.

Like she had climbed on top of the school sign and started charging admission. Maybe she should start one. Imagine the money she’d get from all the people too invested in her life.

Her mom leaned forward, voice gentle and reasonable. "I’m sure this got out of hand. Roxie knows better than to invite that kind of attention."

Roxie’s jaw tightened.

Invite? Really?

Mrs. Delgado nodded slowly. "That’s what we want to make clear. "You’re a visible student, Roxie. Cheer captain. A student with conditions attached to your place here."

"I know," Roxie said.

Her mom placed a hand on her arm.

"She understands," her mom said. "Teenagers make poor choices sometimes. We’ll talk about it at home."

Roxie wanted to laugh.

At home.

As if her mom was ever home long enough for a serious talk. It was a mystery how the office even got hold of her.

Mrs. Delgado turned a page in the folder. "We’re not issuing a disciplinary action today."

Roxie’s shoulders almost dropped.

"But this is a warning," Mrs. Delgado continued. "No more photos. No more public behavior that can be misinterpreted. And I strongly suggest you keep some distance from Mr. Prescott until this dies down."

Roxie nodded. "Yes, ma’am."

Her mom squeezed her arm. "Good."

Roxie looked at her hand until she removed it.

Mrs. Delgado’s expression softened a little. "You’re a good student, Roxie. Don’t let a rumor turn into something that affects your future."

That was the problem.

It already had.

Roxie stood when the meeting ended. Her mom thanked Mrs. Delgado like they had all just finished a polite parent conference about missing homework, then walked out beside Roxie through the main office.

They made it to the hallway before her mother’s voice changed.

Still soft.

Not kind.

"You need to be smarter than this," her mom said.

Roxie kept walking. "I didn’t do anything."

"You sat on a boy’s lap in front of half the school."

"That was because someone took my seat," Roxie said.

Her mom gave her a look that made Roxie feel twelve years old and stupid. "Then you stand. You move. You don’t give people something to talk about."

Roxie swallowed the first answer that came to her.

Her mom reached over and touched one of Roxie’s curls, smoothing it like that fixed anything. "You’re too pretty to be careless. Not as beautiful as me, but people see a girl like you and they already decide things. Don’t help them."

Roxie pulled back gently. "I have practice."

"Roxie."

"What?"

For one second, neither of them spoke.

Then her mom adjusted her purse strap and looked toward the office doors. "I have to go. Your uncle Ronnie has this party at his house. We’ll talk later."

They would not talk later.

They both knew that.

Roxie nodded anyway and walked back toward the gym.

By the time she got there, practice had already started.

The music was running, but the formation was off. Kendall stood near the front, counting loud enough to sound helpful and wrong enough to be annoying. Angela was by the speaker, looking stressed. Karen caught Roxie’s eye from the second row and mouthed, Are you okay?

Roxie shook her head once.

Coach Miller stood near the bleachers with his clipboard tucked under one arm. His eyes went to Roxie the second she entered.

"You’re late," he said.

"Sorry, Coach." Roxie dropped her bag near the wall and moved toward her spot.

Kendall turned with a small smile. "Must be nice getting special treatment. Some of us actually had to start practice on time."

A couple of girls laughed under their breath.

Roxie didn’t answer and took her place in formation.

She was exhausted.

"From the top," Coach Miller said.

They ran the routine.

Then again.

Then again.

Roxie hit every count, but her mind kept slipping. Every whisper from the back row felt aimed at her. Every glance toward the doors made her stomach tighten. Kendall kept missing little things. Nothing big enough for Coach to stop practice, just enough for Roxie to notice and get angrier.

By the time Coach gave them a water break, Roxie’s head was pounding.

She went to the bleachers and grabbed her bottle.

"Office?" Karen asked, appearing beside her.

Roxie twisted the cap open. "Warning."

Angela came up on her other side. "For the photo?"

"And the bleacher one."

Angela’s face dropped. "Oh, Roxie."

Karen’s eyes sharpened. "Someone sent it to the office?"

"Someone or everyone. Does it matter?"

Karen looked like she had several violent suggestions.

Roxie pointed her bottle at her. "Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything."

Angela touched Roxie’s arm. "Are you okay?"

Roxie took a drink of water instead of answering.

Across the gym, Kendall laughed at something one of her friends said.

Roxie watched her for half a second too long.

Karen noticed. "I’m begging you not to murder her before Friday. The timing is inconvenient."

That got a tiny laugh out of Roxie.

Just enough that Angela smiled in relief.

Coach Miller blew the whistle. "Back on the floor."

Roxie capped her bottle and turned.

Then she saw Zac near the gym doors.

He was leaning against the wall in practice clothes, hair damp, backpack over one shoulder. He wasn’t grinning this time. He was just watching her, like he had been trying to decide whether walking in was worth getting glared at.

It was not.

Roxie looked away and walked back to the court.

Practice continued, but she could feel him there.

That was the problem with Zac Prescott. Even when he wasn’t doing anything, he still made people look. A few girls noticed him and started whispering again. Kendall noticed him too, because of course she did. Her eyes moved from Zac to Roxie, and her smile sharpened.

Roxie never gave him an ounce of attention.

She kept her eyes on Coach Miller, on Angela by the speaker, on the uneven line in front of her. Anywhere except the boy standing near the doors like another problem with shoulders.

"Five, six, seven, eight," she called.

The squad moved.

This time, Roxie hit every count harder than she needed to. Her arms snapped clean. Her smile stayed bright. Her voice carried over the music until even the girls whispering in the back row shut up and followed.

If Zac was still watching, that was his problem.

If Kendall was waiting for her to crack, she could keep waiting.

Roxie finished the count, turned with the line, and forced the routine back into shape one beat at a time.

Coach Miller did not praise her.

He did not need to.

When the music cut, he only gave one short nod.

For today, Roxie would take it.