Chapter 12: Chapter 12 - Work Together
By Monday morning, Roxie had decided the weekend was personally against her.
Her shoulder still ached when she lifted her arm too high, her phone had collected three different clips of the pep rally stunt from three different angles, and Karen had sent her a screenshot of a comment that said, Roxie Jones almost got airborne twice in one routine.
That made her giggle.
The good thing was that the pep rally clip had not turned into another schoolwide disaster. People talked about it, because Briarwick students were apparently born with unlimited data and no hobbies, but it had not reached office-call levels.
The bad thing was that everyone had opinions anyway.
Roxie heard them before she even reached chemistry.
"Did you see her duck?"
"She kept going, though."
"I would’ve cried."
"Roxie would rather die than cry in public."
A+ for that girl. At least they knew.
Except that one time she cried and Zac... Ugh. Forget about it.
She walked into Mr. Callahan’s classroom with her binder against her chest and her face set exactly how she wanted it. Calm and bored. Pretty enough to make people wonder if the rumors were bothering her and cold enough to make them afraid to ask.
Angela was already in her seat near the front, turning around the second Roxie entered.
Karen sat sideways beside her, chewing gum like she was trying to personally offend the school handbook.
"You good?" Angela asked.
Roxie slid into her chair. "Yes."
Karen looked her up and down. "Shoulder?"
"Still attached."
"What an answer." Karen rolled her eyes at her.
"It was still an answer." She grinned at her.
Angela leaned closer. "Did you ice it?"
"I am not eighty."
"That is also not an answer."
Roxie opened her binder and pulled out the lab report. "Why are both of you like this before eight in the morning?"
"Friendship," Karen said.
"No, I think you’re both just born nosy." Roxie corrected.
The back of the room got louder.
The football players. As usual. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
Roxie did not look.
That was the plan.
It lasted maybe four seconds.
Zac walked in with two of his teammates, backpack over one shoulder, hair still damp like he had come from morning weights. One of the guys beside him said something that made the others laugh, but Zac’s smile did not fully reach his face.
Then his eyes found Roxie.
He looked at her shoulder first.
Then her face.
Then he looked away and went to the back row.
Roxie hated that he looked concerned.
She hated more that she cared enough.
Which was stupid, because she had made it very clear that she wanted him to stop making her life worse.
Apparently, her brain had decided consistency was optional.
Roxie did not even know what she wanted from him.
Mr. Callahan walked in two minutes after the bell, carrying his mug, a stack of folders, and the expression of a man who had already been disappointed by teenagers before breakfast.
"Packets out," he said.
The room groaned.
Mr. Callahan set his mug on the desk. "Hhhmmm." He closed his eyes listening to their groans, like music to his ear. "That’s what I wanted to hear. The perfect suffering for the first day of the week."
The students laughed as Roxie smiled too at his ridiculous jokes.
"Enough whining and pass it."
Roxie placed the lab report neatly on her desk.
She had finished her part.
Zac had sent his part Saturday night, no message, no joke, just a file attached with the data corrected and the conclusion written in sentences that were annoyingly decent.
She had replied:
Roxie: got it
He had replied:
Zac: 👍
A thumbs-up.That was it.Roxie stared at it for thirty seconds.
Who dares to give her just a thumbs up?
Mr. Callahan flipped through his folder. "Since some of you clearly need practice explaining your results without using the words stuff, thing, and basically every twelve seconds, we’re doing quick partner presentations today."
Roxie’s hand froze on her pen.
Around the room, students started reacting.
"Sir, it’s Monday."
"Exactly," Mr. Callahan said. "A fresh day for public speaking."
"That’s evil. No. No. You’re evil"
"Thank you."
Roxie slowly turned her head toward the back row.
Zac was already looking at her.
Mr. Callahan checked his list. "Prescott and Jones, you’re first."
The room woke up instantly.
Someone made a dramatic coughing sound.
Another boy muttered, "Chemistry presentation."
A girl near the windows whispered, "This is actually perfect."
Roxie stood so fast her chair almost scraped.
Mr. Callahan pointed at the back row without looking. "One more comment and I’m adding a quiz after every presentation."
The class went quiet.
Mostly.
Zac grabbed his notebook and walked toward the front.
Roxie picked up the report and met him by the board. She stood as far from him as possible while still technically being part of the same presentation.
Mr. Callahan noticed.
His mouth twitched.
Roxie hated every adult in the building.
Zac leaned closer, just enough to murmur, "Smile."
Roxie kept her eyes on the class. "Say that again and I’ll make this presentation about your funeral."
His ears turned slightly red.
He looked down at the report.
The class, unfortunately, had eyes.
A football player in the back whispered, "Ears."
Zac lifted his head. "Shut up."
Mr. Callahan set his mug down slowly.
The class stopped breathing.
Zac cleared his throat. "Sorry, sir."
"Excellent start," Mr. Callahan said. "Proceed."
Roxie held the first page tighter than necessary.
Their lab was about reaction rates, temperature changes, and how different conditions affected the speed of the reaction. Normal. Boring. Safe.
In theory.
Roxie started because she refused to let Zac look more prepared than her in front of the class.
"Our experiment measured how temperature affected the reaction time between the solution and the indicator," she said. "We used three different water temperatures and recorded the time it took for the visible reaction to appear."
Her voice sounded steady.
Good.
She could do steady.
Zac stepped in on the next part, explaining the procedure. He did not show off. He did not make jokes. He did not act like the class was a stage built for him, even though half the people in the room were staring at him like it was. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
He just explained.
Clear. Simple. Annoyingly competent.
Roxie kept her face neutral.
Inside, she was offended.
When it was her turn again, she flipped the page and continued. "The colder sample had the slowest reaction time. The warm sample reacted fastest because higher temperature increased particle movement and collision frequency."
A boy in the back muttered, "Collision frequency."
Someone laughed under their breath.
Mr. Callahan looked up.
Silence returned.
Roxie kept going, but her eyes caught on the wrong line for half a second. The page had too many numbers. Her shoulder was starting to throb from holding the folder. Someone near the front was watching her mouth instead of the report, probably waiting for her to stumble.
"The data supported our hypothesis, though one trial was inconsistent because the timing started late."
Zac added, "That was mine."
The class laughed.
Roxie turned to him, surprised.
He shrugged. "It was."
The laugh softened the room.
Roxie hated that he knew how to do that.
Mr. Callahan nodded toward the board. "And your conclusion?"
Zac looked at her.
Letting her take it.
She faced the class. "Our conclusion is that reaction rate increases with temperature because particles move faster and collide more often with enough energy to react. The pattern was consistent across the three trials, except for the one timing error, and the data matched the expected relationship."
Mr. Callahan nodded once. "Questions?"
A hand shot up in the back.
Roxie already hated it.
"Yes?" Mr. Callahan said.
One of Zac’s teammates leaned back in his chair. "Was the chemistry strong?"
The class broke.
Zac closed his eyes.
Roxie stared at the boy with a smile so sweet it probably counted as a warning.
Mr. Callahan pointed at the boy. "I’ll answer that. Yes!" The class shouted as Roxie face burned. "The chemistry is so strong they made their lab report perfect. Congratulations to the both of you. Quiz after the presentations."
Roxie walked back to her seat with her chin high.
Zac followed, but instead of going to the back row, he paused beside her desk.
Her hand tightened around her pen.
He spoke low enough that only she could hear. "Your shoulder really does hurt."
Roxie looked up. "Are you asking or diagnosing?"
"Try ice," he said.
Then he walked back to his seat.
Roxie stared at her notebook.
Angela turned around slowly, eyes huge.
Karen leaned across the aisle. "That was disgusting."
Roxie glared at her. "Nothing happened."
"Exactly," Karen said. "That was the disgusting part."
Angela pressed her lips together. She just rolled her eyes at them.
The rest of first period dragged through presentations and one very petty quiz.
By the time the bell rang, Roxie’s patience had been scraped thin enough to see through.
She packed quickly.
Zac did not come over.
He left with his teammates, one of them talking at him loudly while Zac shoved his notebook into his bag. He glanced once toward Roxie near the door.
Then he kept walking.
By lunch, the hallway had settled into regular Monday noise. Lockers slammed. People complained about homework. Someone had spilled iced coffee near the stairs, and everyone stepped around it like it was a crime scene.
Roxie was heading toward the cafeteria with Angela and Karen when she saw Kendall slip into the girls’ bathroom near the science wing.
Alone.
Roxie stopped.
Angela noticed immediately. "Roxie."
Karen followed her gaze and smiled without humor. "Oh."
Roxie handed Angela her binder.
Angela hugged it to her chest. "Please tell me you’re just fixing your hair."
"Yes, I am. You two better make sure no one comes in. Wouldn’t want people to see my actual hair." She winked at them. Karen nodded as she leaned against the wall and Angela looked worried but nodded as well.
This was a terrible idea.
Roxie pushed open the bathroom door anyway.
The bathroom smelled like hand soap, cheap perfume, and the faint chemical bite of cleaner that never fully covered anything. Kendall stood at the mirror, touching up her lip gloss with careful little strokes.
She saw Roxie in the reflection.
Her hand paused for half a second.
Then she smiled.
"Following me now?"
Roxie let the door swing shut behind her. "We need to talk."
Kendall capped her lip gloss. "Do we?"
"Yes."
"I’m pretty sure if we talk alone, you’ll say I attacked you again."
Roxie walked closer.
Kendall turned from the mirror, but she did not move away.
That was Kendall. Always braver when there was a sink between them and the possibility of witnesses outside.
Roxie stopped a few feet from her. "You messed with the count."
Kendall blinked. "Excuse me?"
"At the pep rally."
"I know what you meant." Kendall dropped the lip gloss into her little purse. "I’m just giving you a chance to hear how insane you sound."
Roxie smiled.
It did not feel nice. "You were counting from the front."
"So?"
"I know you did it."
Kendall’s eyes widened with fake concern. "Maybe your stunt group needs more practice."
"Maybe you need to stop acting stupid."
Kendall’s smile sharpened. "Careful. You’re already on thin ice."
Roxie stepped closer.
The bathroom felt too quiet.
From outside, a group of girls laughed as they passed down the hallway. Their voices faded, leaving only the hum of the lights and the tiny drip from one of the sinks.
Roxie stepped closer, close enough that Kendall had to lift her chin. "If someone gets hurt because you want my spot, this stop being cheer drama."
Kendall’s expression shifted.
"My spot?" Kendall repeated. "You’re so obsessed with being captain."
"You’re so obsessed with pretending you don’t want it."
Kendall looked at her for a second, then laughed softly.
The crying girl from the office disappeared. The concerned co-captain disappeared. What stayed was the Kendall who looked at Roxie like she was something in the way.
"You really think you’re special because Coach gave you a title?" Kendall asked.
Roxie said nothing.
"I’m giving you one warning," Roxie said. "If you mess with the count again and someone gets hurt, I’ll be coming for your head."