The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 170: Chapter 170 - Monday Again

Monday morning came anyway.

That felt rude.

After everything, after the hotel room, after the loss, after Zac’s face against her chest while he said he loved her back, school still opened at the same time.

The bell still rang.

The parking lot still filled.

Students still rushed through the front doors with coffee, backpacks, half done review packets, and complaints about the upcoming finals.

The world had the nerve to keep moving.

Roxie walked into Briarwick with her cheer bag on one shoulder and her Chemistry binder pressed against her chest. Her body still felt tired from State weekend, from competition, from the bus ride, from barely sleeping after Zac dozed in her arms in a hotel room while his whole season sat broken on the table beside him.

She had said I love you.

He had said it back.

Her cheeks warmed. It was not how she had planned to say it, but she was glad she said it.

And now she had first period.

That felt cruel in a very specific way.

The hallway was quieter than Roxie expected.

There were no streamers today. No glitter signs. No football boys getting mobbed near the lockers. The banners were still up, but they looked a little sad now, like nobody had the heart to take them down yet.

STATE FINALS.

GO RAVENS.

BRING IT HOME.

They had not brought it home.

Everyone knew.

Honestly, Student Council should have taken them down already. Noah was getting an earful from her later.

Roxie stopped near the trophy case.

A printed sheet had been taped under the football display.

Congratulations to the Briarwick Ravens for an outstanding State Championship run.

Final score: Woodstock 41, Briarwick 35.

Congratulations to Zac Prescott for setting a State Championship passing record with 438 yards.

That was it.

One sheet of paper.

One line for the team.

One line for Zac.

No mention of the one yard.

No mention of the boys crying on the field.

Roxie stared at the paper.

Then the speaker crackled overhead.

”Good morning, Briarwick. Congratulations to our Ravens football team for an incredible season and a hard fought State Championship game. We are proud of you. Students, please remember that semester finals begin Wednesday. Review schedules are posted outside the main office.”

There was a pause.

Then the announcements moved on.

”Student Council will meet during lunch. Winter Formal committee members, please check your email.”

That was it.

Loss.

Record.

Finals.

Formal.

The whole season reduced to forty seconds before reminders about testing and decorations.

Roxie let out a slow breath.

Angela appeared beside her. ”That was depressing.”

Karen came up on Roxie’s other side, holding a granola bar like a weapon. ”They sounded more emotional when the cafeteria ran out of mozzarella sticks.”

Roxie looked at her. ”They made an announcement for mozzarella sticks?”

Karen opened the granola bar, shaking her head. ”It was a dark day.”

Angela looked at the printed sheet again. ”At least they mentioned the record.”

Roxie’s chest tightened.

”Yeah,” she said.

Karen watched her face. ”How is Zac?”

Roxie looked down the hallway.

Zac stood near his locker with Mason, Dylan, and Kyle.

People kept stopping him.

One sophomore clapped him on the shoulder and said something Roxie could not hear. Zac nodded. A teacher shook his hand. Another football player pulled him into a rough half hug. Mason stood beside him with his jaw tight. Dylan leaned against the locker because his ankle still looked awful. Kyle looked like he wanted to fight anyone who said the word almost.

Zac’s face was controlled.

Every congratulations seemed to land wrong.

”He’s standing,” Roxie said.

Karen’s gaze softened a little. ”That bad?”

Roxie nodded.

Angela slipped her hand into Roxie’s for a second. ”You saw him?”

Roxie looked at her.

Angela’s eyebrows lifted.

Karen looked between them. ”You were sleeping when she tried to be slick getting out of our hotel room.”

Roxie pulled her hand back. ”You can’t blame a girlfriend.”

Karen pointed the granola bar at her. ”Oh wow. Really rubbing it in our faces now, huh?”

Roxie’s face heated. ”Can’t hide it anymore. Why try?”

”Please try. There’s still a single girl in your friend group.”

Angela’s cheeks turned pink. ”Did you two...”

”No,” Roxie said quickly.

Karen’s grin widened. ”That was a very fast no.”

”Because I knew your brain would sprint straight into traffic.”

”You can’t blame us.”

Roxie looked away before she smiled. ”Dylan was in the room when I got there.”

Across the hallway, Zac glanced over.

Their eyes met.

For a second, everything else thinned.

The hallway.

The paper on the trophy case.

The announcements.

The finals posters.

The boys around him.

Roxie saw the hotel room again. The dim light. His damp hair. The untouched medal. His hand on her face. His voice rough against her hoodie.

I love you too.

Zac looked at her like he remembered the exact same thing.

Then someone stepped between them to ask him about the record.

The moment broke.

The bell rang.

Mr. Callahan stood at the front of the room with a stack of packets, looking far too awake for someone about to ruin everyone’s morning.

”Finals are Wednesday and Thursday,” he said. ”That means today is for review, tomorrow is for questions, Wednesday is for panic, and Thursday is when I provide emotional support through tissues I bought with my own money.”

A few students groaned.

Mr. Callahan pointed at the board. ”Your complaints have been noted and ignored.”

Roxie slid into her seat.

Zac sat two lab tables away. He was already there, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, pencil turning slowly between his fingers.

He looked tired.

Mr. Callahan started writing review topics on the board.

Stoichiometry.

Reaction rates.

Acids and bases.

Lab safety.

Short response.

Roxie opened her notebook.

Her brain looked at the words and rejected them.

Beside her, Angela leaned over and whispered, ”Do you understand any of this?”

Roxie whispered back, ”Emotionally or academically?”

”Both.”

”No.”

Angela made a tiny sound of despair and turned back to her packet.

Across the room, a boy leaned toward Zac.

”Prescott, that record was insane.”

Zac nodded once. ”Thanks.”

”You almost had it too.”

The room went too quiet around them.

Roxie’s pencil stopped moving.

Zac’s jaw tightened.

The boy seemed to realize too late that almost was a stupid word to use.

”I mean, you were crazy good,” he added.

Zac looked at his paper. ”Yeah. Thanks.”

Roxie wanted to throw her eraser at the boy’s head.

Mr. Callahan cleared his throat. ”Review packets, people. Football cannot help you balance chemical equations.”

Karen, from the next row, muttered, ”Neither can I.”

Mr. Callahan pointed at her without looking. ”Karen, I heard that.”

Karen smiled sweetly. ”That was for you.”

Roxie almost laughed.

Under the table, her phone buzzed.

Zac: You okay?

They still had to text like criminals.

Roxie: I’m currently being attacked by Chemistry.

Zac: Same.

Roxie glanced at him.

Zac’s mouth moved slightly, barely a smile.

Her chest warmed.

Then Mr. Callahan looked toward her, and she put the phone away fast.

By lunch, everyone cared about finals again.

That was the cruel part.

The state loss had already turned into a story people told between bites of fries.

”Prescott had four hundred thirty eight yards.”

”Mason destroyed that defensive tackle.”

”Dylan played on one ankle.”

”Kyle almost killed that slot receiver.”

”They lost by one yard.”

The words followed the football players through the cafeteria, but with every retelling, the grief got cleaner.

By Monday lunch, they were legends.

The boys themselves did not look like legends.

Mason sat with his shoulders hunched, stabbing at his food without eating much. Dylan had his ankle stretched under the table and snapped at anyone who told him to elevate it. Kyle kept looking toward the exit like he needed air. Zac sat among them with his hood down and his face calm enough to worry Roxie.

People stopped by their table every few minutes.

”Hell of a game.”

”You guys were robbed.”

”That record was insane.”

”Woodstock got lucky.”

”Next year, man.”

Next year.

Roxie saw Mason’s hand freeze around his fork.

There was no next year for him.

No next year for Zac.

No next year for Dylan or Kyle.

Angela sat down beside Roxie with a tray full of food she would probably forget to eat. Karen dropped into the seat across from them and immediately stole one of Angela’s fries.

Angela looked at her. ”You have your own.”

Karen ate the fry. ”Yours looked yummier.”

Roxie opened her review packet on the table.

Karen stared at it. ”Absolutely vile.”

”I have to study.”

”You have to eat.”

”I can multitask.”

”You can barely task.”

Roxie picked up a fry and pointed it at her. ”I am fragile today. I can barely eat.”

Karen gave her a flat look. ”You are many things. Fragile is usually a trap. I will force food into your mouth if I have to.”

Angela leaned closer. ”Roxie, you better eat. We can’t have you fainting again.”

Roxie gave in and ate the fries on her plate.

They tasted bland.

She looked down at her packet again.

Her notes blurred.

She had Cheer State follow up forms to submit. Finals on Wednesday and Thursday. Work shifts at the Grill. A house that felt too empty. Claire somewhere in a park or motel or nowhere she wanted to imagine. Zac’s mom. Zac walking around with a record everyone loved and a loss nobody knew how to touch.

And Winter Formal committee emails.

Because apparently December had no mercy.

Roxie rubbed her eyes.

Angela touched her arm. ”You okay?”

Roxie laughed once. ”I don’t even have time to think.”

That was the strange relief of it.

Her life had gone unbearable, and school had answered by handing her a final review calendar.

There was no space to collapse.

There were only deadlines.

She was getting barely five hours of sleep every night.

By Tuesday afternoon, Briarwick had almost fully shifted into finals mode.

Almost.

The football loss had become history.

The record had become legend.

The pregnancy rumor had faded just enough to stop leading every whisper, though it still floated behind Roxie like old smoke. People had moved on to grades, Winter Formal outfits, after finals plans, and who had cried during their Chemistry review.

Roxie was taping her locker shut because the latch had started sticking when the Student Council officers came down the hallway with a stack of flyers.

Noah held one up and slapped it against the bulletin board.

WINTER FORMAL

THIS FRIDAY

8 PM

BRIARWICK GYM

Someone shrieked behind Roxie.

”Formal is actually happening?”

”It’s Friday?”

”I need a dress.”

”I need a date.”

Angela appeared beside Roxie with Caleb next to her, both of them holding review folders.

Angela looked at the flyer, then at Caleb.

Her cheeks turned pink.

Caleb smiled. ”Are you asking me, or am I asking you?”

Angela smiled back. ”You can ask me.”

Karen, standing on Roxie’s other side, made a choking sound. ”I am standing inside a sugar spill.”

Caleb turned to her politely. ”Would you like me to ask louder?”

”I would like you to leave.”

Angela elbowed Karen gently.

Caleb looked at Angela. ”Winter Formal?”

Angela’s smile went soft. ”Yes.”

Karen groaned. ”Great. I’m the third wheel.”

Noah, still taping flyers, looked over. ”Technically, you can be the fifth wheel if Roxie brings someone.”

Roxie froze.

Karen turned slowly.

Angela’s eyes widened.

Noah looked confused. ”What?”

A girl from Student Council glanced at Roxie. ”So, Roxie, who’s taking you?”

The hallway around them seemed to pause.

Roxie felt Karen and Angela look at her.

Across the hall, Zac stood near his locker with Mason, one hand on his bag strap.

He had heard.

Roxie looked at the flyer.

Winter Formal.

This Friday.

The thing they had both bought single tickets for because it had been safer.

The thing that suddenly felt much less simple.

Roxie lifted her head and smiled.

”I don’t know yet.”

Across the hall, Zac looked at her.

And for the first time all week, he smiled back.