The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 82: Chapter 82 - Nowhere To Go

Roxie had been walking around the park for almost an hour.

She did not know that until her phone showed the time.

Her feet hurt. Her cheek still stung. Her scalp hurt every time the wind touched her hair. She should have gone home after leaving the office last night. She should have stayed there today because she was suspended and that was what suspended students were supposed to do.

But the house felt worse than the suspension.

The house had Claire in it.

The house had the kitchen where her mother told her she was going to sell it like she was talking about old furniture.

So Roxie walked.

Around the pond. Past the benches. Past the playground. Past the basketball court where a few middle school boys were shouting at each other over a missed shot.

Her phone would not stop buzzing.

Angela: Answer me.

Angela: Roxie.

Angela: I know you’re suspended but I’m still allowed to panic.

Angela: Karen is grounded. Her mom took her phone.

Angela: She used her cousin’s account to tell me she’s alive and that you better not do anything else without her.

Angela: I’m still mad, by the way.

Roxie stopped near a tree and read the messages.

Angela: You should have let me come with you.

Roxie’s throat tightened.

She could picture Angela saying it. Hurt under the anger. Betrayed because Roxie and Karen had decided for her. Maybe they had meant to protect her, but that did not make it feel less like being pushed out.

Roxie typed slowly.

Roxie: You already got hurt enough.

Angela replied almost immediately.

Angela: That wasn’t your decision.

Roxie stared at the screen.

She had no answer for that.

Because Angela was right.

Roxie had hated seeing Angela in that hoodie. She had hated how quiet Angela got after Lily turned her body into a joke. She had hated it so much she decided Angela could not take another hit.

But Angela was not weak.

Roxie knew that.

She had just been scared.

Roxie: I know.

Angela: Are you okay?

Roxie almost typed yes.

Then deleted it.

Roxie: I’m outside.

Angela: Where?

Roxie did not answer that one.

She locked the screen and kept walking.

Her phone buzzed again a few minutes later, but this time it was not Angela.

It was the cheer group chat.

RAVENS CHEER 12

Maya: Has Coach Miller messaged anyone?

Tessa: Not me.

Junior Flyer: Are practices still happening this week?

Lily’s cousin: I mean they have to. Homecoming is next week.

Another junior: It’s going to be weird without Roxie and Karen.

Junior Flyer: Is Roxie still captain if she’s suspended?

Maya: She’s suspended for one week, not expelled.

Lily’s cousin: I’m just asking. Two fights is kind of a lot.

Another junior: Yeah. It’s just messy.

Tessa: Bianca started it though.

Lily’s cousin: I didn’t say she didn’t. I’m saying captains are supposed to set examples.

Roxie stopped walking.

She stared at the messages while people moved around her like nothing had happened.

They were talking about her like she was not in the chat.

Like she was a problem to manage.

Like she had not had gum put in her hair, her uniform destroyed, her mother dragged into school gossip, and Bianca’s hand in her scalp first.

Her thumb hovered over the keyboard.

She wanted to answer.

She wanted to ask if being captain meant smiling while someone ruined her life piece by piece. She wanted to ask if they would have preferred Bianca kept going because at least that would make practice less "messy."

But if she replied, they would screenshot it.

If she snapped, they would say she proved them right.

Roxie closed the screen.

Her chest felt tight.

Homecoming was next week.

Coach Miller still had not contacted her. Roxie could almost see him sitting in his office, rubbing his forehead, trying not to have a stroke because two of his key cheerleaders were suspended and the squad was already whispering.

She would have smiled at that any other day.

Today, she could not.

A one-week suspension sounded light until she realized what it meant. She would be back in time for Homecoming. Back in time for everyone to look at her. Back in time for the stories to settle into whatever version Briarwick liked best.

Part of her wished Mrs. Gonzalez had suspended her for two weeks too.

Then she would not have to go.

Then she would have a clean excuse.

No Homecoming. No dress. No squad pretending not to judge her. No walking back into school as the girl who fought Bianca in the parking lot and got sent home.

Her phone buzzed again.

Ethan Davis: Heard you got suspended.

Roxie stared at the name.

She did not have energy for him.

Roxie: Everyone heard.

Ethan: Are you okay?

Roxie almost laughed, but nothing came out.

Roxie: No.

There was a pause.

Ethan: Do you need money?

Roxie’s fingers went still.

The question was too direct.

Too accurate and insensitive.

She hated it.

Ethan: My uncle needs help at his restaurant. A server quit. You can work there for a few shifts if you want.

Roxie looked up from the phone.

The park blurred for a second.

Money.

She needed money. Yes, she had worked in a diner before.

Different town.

She had hated it.

Not because of the work. The work was fine. Wiping tables, carrying plates, smiling at customers who acted like asking for extra sauce was a legal emergency. That was manageable.

The hard part had been the door.

Every time it opened, Roxie looked.

Every time someone laughed, she wondered if it was about her.

Every customer her age made her body tense because one picture, one rumor, one "isn’t that the Briarwick cheer captain?" could turn a shift into another thing she had to survive.

She had quit before anyone from school saw her.

Now she was considering doing it again because she had no choice.

Roxie: Where?

Ethan: Corner Grill. Fairmont. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Roxie closed her eyes.

Fairmont.

Roxie: Your school goes there?

Ethan: Sometimes.

Roxie: Then no.

Ethan: Think about it. My uncle pays cash tips. Even two shifts would help.

Roxie hated that he was right.

She hated that he had said help without making it sound like charity.

She hated that she needed help at all.

Roxie sat on a bench near the pond and stared at the ducks cutting through the water.

Her phone stayed in her hand.

Ethan: Where are you?

Roxie: Why?

Ethan: Because I’m asking.

Roxie: Park.

Ethan: Which one?

Roxie hesitated.

She should not answer.

She did anyway.

Roxie: Riverside.

Ethan: Stay there.

Roxie frowned.

Roxie: Ethan.

He did not answer.

Roxie stood up.

For ten minutes, she kept walking because sitting still made her feel trapped. Her phone buzzed twice from Angela, once from the cheer group chat, and once from an unknown number that she ignored.

Then she heard a motorbike pull into the parking area.

Roxie turned.

Ethan rode in wearing his school uniform, tie loose, backpack still on, helmet under one arm when he got off. He parked near the curb and looked around until he saw her.

Roxie did not move at first.

Then she walked toward him, anger rising because it was easier than being scared.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

Ethan looked at her face, then her hair, then quickly back to her eyes. "You said you were at the park."

"You’re a student."

"School ended."

"It ended for you already?"

He hesitated.

Roxie’s eyes narrowed. "You left skipped for this?"

Ethan shrugged. "You said park."

"That wasn’t an emergency."

His eyes moved over her scratched cheek, her tired face, the way she kept gripping her bag like it was holding her together.

"Looked like one."

Ethan did not deny it.

Roxie let out a breath and looked away. "You shouldn’t have come."

"Maybe."

"I’m serious."

"So am I."

That made her look back at him.

Ethan was not smiling anymore.

Roxie glanced away first.

The park kept moving around them. Kids shouting near the swings. A basketball hitting the pavement. A woman calling a dog that very clearly had no intention of listening.

Normal people doing normal things while Roxie stood there with a suspension, a bruised face, no real home soon, and a job offer she was too scared to need.

Ethan reached into his backpack and pulled out a folded receipt.

"My uncle’s number," he said. "His name is Marco. He owns Corner Grill."

Roxie looked at the paper but did not take it yet.

"I can’t promise it’s good money," Ethan said. "And I can’t promise it won’t suck. But he needed someone this morning."

"Needed?"

"Server quit."

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

Server.

That meant tables. Customers. Smiling. Walking around where people could see her.

Her stomach turned before she could stop it.

Ethan noticed. "You don’t have to say yes."

"I know."

"You also don’t have to decide in a park."

Roxie looked at him.

He hesitated, then nodded toward the bike. "Come with me. Meet him. If it feels wrong, we leave."

Roxie stared at the motorbike.

Then at the helmet hanging from the handle.

Then back at Ethan.

"You skipped school to take me to your uncle’s restaurant?"

"I left study hall."

"That means you skipped."

"Yes."

"At least lie better."

"I’m not trying to lie."

That landed weirdly.

Most people tried to make things sound better than they were. Ethan didn’t. He just stood there holding a folded receipt, looking like he knew she might say no and had already decided he would accept it.

Roxie hated needing that.

She hated needing anything.

But Claire’s voice slid back into her head.

Soon.

Roxie took the receipt from him.

The paper was warm from his hand.

"Fine," she said. "I’ll meet him."

Ethan nodded once. "Okay."

"This does not mean I’m working there."

"I know."

"And if this turns into something humiliating, I’m blaming you."

"That’s fair."

Roxie looked at the bike again. "I don’t have a helmet."

Ethan lifted the one from the handle and held it out. "You do."