The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 76: Chapter 76 - The Rumor

By third period, Homecoming had become a public safety issue.

Someone had taped a giant HOCO? poster across the science hallway, and half the sophomore class was trapped behind a boy holding roses like he was the male lead in some school drama. Girls were filming. Boys were yelling advice they absolutely should not have been giving. A teacher stood near the lab door with the tired face of someone rethinking every career choice that led her there.

Roxie stood at her locker with Angela and Karen, watching the whole scene unfold three doors down.

The girl said yes.

The hallway exploded.

Angela pressed a hand to her chest. "That was cute."

Karen looked unimpressed. "That was a fire hazard."

"It can be both."

Roxie shut her locker. "If someone blocks my way to class with poster board, I’m saying no on principle."

Angela turned to her. "Liar."

"I’m very honest."

"You would pretend to hate it, then remember it forever."

Karen grinned. "Especially if it’s the captain asking."

Roxie looked at her. "You’re both very imaginative."

Angela laughed, but it did not reach her face the way it usually did.

Roxie noticed.

Angela had been wearing layers all day. First the hoodie. Then the oversized cardigan over the hoodie. Now she had both sleeves pulled over her hands, like she was trying to make her body disappear one inch at a time.

It made Roxie want to find Bianca Reeves and introduce her face to a locker.

Slowly.

Her phone buzzed.

Roxie felt it against her palm before the screen lit up.

Zac: Did someone just propose near the history wing?

Her stomach tightened.

Across the hallway, Zac stood near the trophy case with Dylan, Mason, and two other football players. He was not looking directly at her. He was drinking from a water bottle while Mason talked with his whole body like usual.

Roxie read the message.

Then she locked the screen.

She did not reply.

Angela’s eyes flicked to Roxie’s phone, then to Roxie’s face.

Karen noticed too.

Neither of them said anything.

That was how Roxie knew they really noticed.

The silence felt worse than teasing.

A week ago, Angela would have shoved her shoulder and started making wedding jokes before Roxie even had time to threaten violence. Karen would have said something dry and irritating. Roxie would have snapped back, and Zac would have texted again from across the hall like he could hear her getting annoyed.

Now Angela just pulled her cardigan tighter.

Karen watched Zac over Roxie’s shoulder, then looked away.

Roxie hated that.

She hated that they were being careful with her.

She shoved her phone into her skirt pocket and adjusted the strap of her bag.

"Class," she said.

Angela hesitated. "Rox—"

"I said class."

Karen held Angela’s gaze for one second, then started walking.

Roxie followed.

She could feel Zac still across the hallway.

She did not look back.

In the hallway, Zac barely spoke to her unless there was a reason. Class. Chem. Someone standing too close. A door needing opening because apparently boys from rich families were raised on threats and manners.

His texts used to feel safer than his voice.

That was the problem.

At first, replying had been easy. He would ask if she ate, if she slept, if the window was okay, if her hair survived Monday, if Angela still wanted him arrested for bathroom trespassing.

Roxie used to roll her eyes and answer.

Now she saw his name on her screen and Bianca’s face came with it.

The soft smile.

The fake clap from the bleachers.

The way she had looked at Roxie’s uniform like she had expected it to be missing.

The way Angela had started hiding inside layers.

The way Karen’s voice went too clean after the parking lot.

All of it sat under Zac’s messages now.

He could text her something normal, something stupid, something that would have made her smile last week, and Roxie would just stare at it until her chest got tight.

Because Zac got to be private when it was convenient.

Roxie got punished in public.

And every time her phone buzzed, she got a little more pissed off that she still wanted to answer.

A burst of laughter came from near the lockers.

Roxie turned before she could stop herself.

Bianca stood with Lily and two junior girls by the trophy case, holding a white coffee cup and laughing at something on Lily’s phone.

Her eyes lifted.

Found Roxie.

The laugh stayed on her face, but her gaze changed, dragging over Roxie with a sneer.

Roxie felt Karen stiffen beside her.

Angela’s hand closed around the sleeve of her cardigan near her wrist.

Roxie smiled back.

Nothing friendly about it.

Bianca’s mouth curved like she enjoyed that.

The hallway moved around them, students passing between their stare like bodies crossing a battlefield without realizing there were bullets.

Lily whispered something to Bianca.

Bianca finally looked away.

Roxie’s fingers curled inside her pocket around her phone.

Angela’s voice was quiet. "Ignore her."

Roxie looked at Angela’s zipped hoodie. "Trying."

"You’re not."

"I said trying, not succeeding."

Karen shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. "We need to get to class before Roxie commits a felony before lunch."

Roxie started walking. "I was thinking misdemeanor."

"Growth," Angela said.

By lunch, Homecoming had gotten worse.

Someone had asked a girl near the courtyard with a bouquet of red roses and a cake shaped like a football. Someone else had put sticky notes all over a locker spelling BE MY DATE? and then spent ten minutes peeling them off because the girl said she already had plans.

Tragic.

Effort was dangerous.

The cafeteria buzzed with it. Who asked who. Who got rejected. Who was going with friends. Who was basically together but not labeling it because teenagers loved making normal words illegal.

Roxie sat with Angela and Karen at their usual table and tried not to look at the football table.

Trying was quickly becoming her least successful hobby.

Zac sat with the team, laughing at something Mason said. Dylan sat beside him, shoulder bumping Zac’s arm as he reached for fries. Across from them, Janice Whitmore leaned against the end of the table with two girls from student council.

Roxie’s fork paused.

Janice was pretty in that clean, expensive way. Glossy brown hair, perfect nails, little gold necklace, blazer over her uniform even though nobody asked her to dress like the future chairwoman of something annoying.

She laughed at something Zac said.

Or maybe Mason.

Or maybe the table.

Roxie did not care.

Obviously.

She looked down at her tray and stabbed a fry with more force than necessary.

Angela followed her gaze and immediately went still.

Karen noticed too.

Again, neither of them said anything.

Roxie almost wished they would. freēwebnovel.com

Teasing she could handle. She could roll her eyes, snap back, call them unemployed, act like none of it mattered.

This quiet little pity act made her want to crawl out of her skin.

Angela picked at her food. "So."

Roxie looked at her. "That sounded intrusive."

"It was just so."

"Your so has an agenda."

Karen lifted her water. "There’s a rumor."

Angela kicked Karen under the table.

Karen barely blinked. "She should hear it from us."

Roxie set her fork down. "Hear what?"

Angela gave Karen a murderous look, then turned to Roxie with a smile so fake it deserved detention. "It’s stupid."

"Then say it."

"It’s not even confirmed."

"Angela."

She deflated. "People are saying Zac might go to Homecoming with Janice."

The cafeteria got louder.

Or maybe Roxie’s head did.

She looked back at the football table before pride could stop her.

Zac was laughing now, head tipped slightly, Janice still standing there with her perfect posture and her perfect life and her perfect ability to exist near him in public without turning into school-wide evidence.

Roxie’s face did nothing.

She made sure of it.

"Okay," she said.

Angela blinked. "Okay?"

"Yes."

Karen watched her carefully. "You don’t care?"

Roxie picked up her fork again. "Why would I?"

Angela and Karen both stared at her.

Roxie ignored them.

Zac Prescott could go with whoever he wanted.

Janice. Bianca. A football. His own reflection if he got desperate.

It had nothing to do with Roxie.

Except it did.

That was the humiliating part.

It had everything to do with her because Zac had been texting her until midnight last week. Because Zac had fixed her hair in a bathroom and tied her bow with his bruised hands. Because Zac had looked relieved when she walked onto the field in uniform.

Because Zac had looked at her like she mattered.

But none of that existed in the cafeteria.

In the cafeteria, Janice could stand beside him.

In the cafeteria, Roxie could only pretend her fries were fascinating.

Angela’s voice softened. "Roxie."

"I said I don’t care."

"You said it like someone holding a knife."

"I don’t really care."

And she didn’t. Technically.

Zac had never asked her, and if he did, Roxie was almost positive she would say no. A normal no. The kind of no that made sense because they were complicated and already attracting enough damage without adding a Homecoming spotlight.

But knowing he might have asked someone else before she even got the chance to reject him was irritating in a way she did not appreciate.

Especially because that someone was Janice, with her shiny hair and perfect posture.

Roxie stabbed another fry.

"See?" she said. "Completely calm."

Karen leaned back. "Maybe it’s not true."

"Maybe it is."

Angela frowned. "Would he even do that?"

Roxie looked at her.

Angela shut her mouth.

A second later, Roxie’s phone lit up beside her tray.

Zac: You okay?

She stared at the screen.

Across the cafeteria, Zac was looking down at his tray like the message had sent itself.

Roxie’s thumb hovered near the side button.

Days ago, she would have answered. A day ago, she would. Not today.

Roxie turned the phone facedown.

Angela watched her turn the phone facedown, and Karen noticed Angela noticing, but neither of them said anything.

Somehow, that made it worse. Roxie could handle teasing. She could handle questions. She could even handle Karen’s judgmental stare and Angela’s fake-soft voice. What she could not handle was the careful silence, like both of them had realized she was one wrong word away from breaking something.

Then two cheer girls near the trash cans lowered their voices.

"I don’t know," one of them whispered. "Some guy. She said the mom looked like an addict."

Roxie’s body went cold.

Her fork clattered against the tray.

Angela turned. "What’s wrong?"

The girls near the trash cans noticed.

One of them looked at Roxie and stopped talking.

The other followed her gaze and went quiet too.

Roxie stared at them.

Her heartbeat moved into her throat.

Mom.

Addict.

They did not know. freeweɓnøvel.com

They could not know.

Claire barely came near school. Claire barely came near daylight unless she needed cigarettes, money, or someone to blame. Nobody here knew what Roxie came home to. Nobody knew about the couch, the bottles, the ash, the days Claire disappeared and came back with lipstick smeared wrong and pupils too strange.

Nobody knew.

Unless someone saw her.

Unless someone followed her.

Unless Bianca had found something else to play with.

The two girls grabbed their trays and left too fast.

That told Roxie nothing.

And everything.

Angela’s hand touched Roxie’s wrist under the table. "What happened?"

Roxie pulled her hand back too quickly.

Angela’s face shifted.

Karen had already turned, eyes tracking the girls as they disappeared through the cafeteria doors.

"What did they say?" Karen asked.

"Nothing."

"Roxie."

"I said nothing."

Angela watched her. "Did Zac do something?"

"No."

Karen’s mouth tightened. "This is becoming your favorite lie."

Roxie stood, grabbing her tray.

Angela blinked. "Where are you going?"

"To throw this away."

"You barely ate."

"Then the trash is getting a gift."

She walked past the two cheer girls’ empty spot, past a group of juniors planning matching Homecoming outfits, past a boy holding a poster board with glitter stuck to his cheek.

The cafeteria felt like it was watching her, though maybe that was just Roxie losing her mind in public, which was becoming a little too on-brand lately. She dumped her tray and turned toward the doors.

Bianca was there.

Leaning near the wall with Lily, coffee cup in hand, looking like she had been waiting for the exact second Roxie cracked.

Her eyes moved over Roxie’s face, slow enough to feel personal. Then her mouth curved.

Small. Knowing.

Roxie stopped walking as students moved around them with trays, backpacks, and absolutely no survival instincts.

Bianca lifted her cup slightly.

A toast.

Roxie’s hands went cold.

The drug addict mom whisper curled around her brain, ugly and fresh, and Bianca smiled wider like she could hear it too.

Roxie smiled back.

For the first time all week, the Homecoming posters around them did not feel stupid.

They felt like a countdown.