The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 10: Chapter 10 - Stumble

The gym was already packed by the time Roxie stepped out from the locker room doors.

Black and silver streamers hung from the bleachers, some neat, some sagging where the tape had started to give up. Ravens banners covered the walls, and a big painted sign above the scoreboard read PROTECT THE NEST in glittery letters that caught the light every time someone moved beneath it.

The place smelled like floor wax, popcorn, perfume, and sweat.

The juniors were stomping their feet hard enough to shake the lower bleachers. The sophomores were screaming even though nothing had started yet. In the senior section, someone kept blowing a plastic horn, and every sharp blast made Roxie’s jaw tighten.

She kept her chin high.

The squad lined up near the side of the court, skirts straight, bows fixed, smiles ready for when Coach gave the signal. Kendall stood three girls away, adjusting the edge of her skirt like Roxie did not exist. Her little group followed her lead with their eyes forward and their mouths shut, playing innocent so well it made Roxie’s stomach twist.

Angela stood on Roxie’s left, watching Kendall’s group with a look that could have started a fight without a single word. Karen stood on Roxie’s right, chewing her gum slowly, her face calm in a way that only made Roxie trust her less.

Roxie faced the court and breathed through her nose.

She was not giving Kendall the satisfaction of seeing her crack before the music even started.

”Stop looking at them,” Roxie said without moving her smile.

”I’m not,” Angela said.

”You absolutely are.”

Karen popped her gum. ”They’re in the way.”

Roxie kept facing the bleachers. ”Please don’t start anything.”

Karen smiled brighter at the crowd. ”You always say that like I wake up choosing violence.”

Angela glanced at her.

Karen shrugged. ”Sometimes it chooses me first.”

Roxie almost laughed.

Coach Miller walked past the squad with his whistle around his neck and a clipboard in one hand. He looked more stressed than usual, which for him meant his eyebrows had almost become one line.

”Listen up,” he said, low enough for the cheerleaders near the front to hear. ”Program starts in two minutes. We introduce the Ravens first, then you go into the opening routine. Keep the energy up, keep the counts clean, and nobody improvises.”

His eyes moved over the squad.

They stopped on Roxie for half a second, then on Kendall.

Roxie smiled harder.

”Tomorrow’s game matters,” Coach Miller continued. ”Ravens versus Falcons. We need the whole school loud today. You two,” he said, pointing at Roxie and Kendall, ”front stage for introductions. Smile. Read the cards. Do not make this weird.”

Karen made a tiny choking sound.

Angela elbowed her.

Roxie’s smile stayed in place.

Kendall finally looked at her. Her expression was sweet enough to rot teeth. ”I can be professional.”

Roxie looked toward the stage. ”That would be new.”

Angela’s eyes widened.

Karen whispered, ”Ten out of ten.”

Coach Miller pointed his clipboard at them. ”I heard that.”

Roxie stepped forward before anyone could say anything else.

The stage was just a raised platform at the end of the court, draped with black fabric and lined with silver balloons. Two microphones waited near the front. A stack of index cards sat on the small podium between them.

Kendall climbed up from the other side.

The gym noise dipped when people noticed.

Half the school had watched the video. The other half had heard seventeen different versions of it by lunch. Roxie could feel the attention shift, could feel people leaning toward their friends and whispering behind their hands.

Two cheer captains stood side by side after almost ripping each other’s hair out yesterday.

Roxie picked up the first card.

Kendall took the second microphone.

For one second, they stood there together while the crowd waited, and Roxie knew exactly what they were waiting for.

Then the principal stepped to the center of the court and raised her microphone.

”Briarwick High, are you ready to support your Ravens?”

The gym exploded.

Screams, stomping, clapping, and that horrible plastic horn from the senior section.

Roxie smiled until her cheeks hurt.

The principal talked about school pride, teamwork, discipline, and the upcoming game against eagles as if anyone in the bleachers cared about words longer than two syllables.

The football team waited near the gym doors in their jerseys, helmets tucked under their arms, already soaking up the attention before they even entered.

When the principal finally turned toward the stage, Roxie straightened.

”And now, let’s welcome the team carrying the nest into tomorrow’s game. Your Briarwick Ravens.”

The doors opened.

The football team came in through the double doors in two lines, jerseys bright under the gym lights, helmets tucked under their arms. The bleachers lost their minds immediately.

Roxie read from the cards, introducing them by number and position while the boys jogged forward one by one. The crowd screamed for all of them, but some got louder cheers depending on who had scored last game, who had dated who, and who had enough followers to make people act stupid in public.

Kendall took every other name.

Her voice stayed sweet.

Roxie’s stayed steady.

From the outside, they probably looked fine. Two cheerleaders standing at the front of the stage, smiling into microphones, trading names like yesterday’s hallway fight had not turned them into school gossip.

The gym knew better.

Roxie felt it every time Kendall leaned toward the mic. Every time Roxie took her turn. Every time the pause between them lasted half a second too long.

People were watching for cracks.

Roxie refused to give them one.

Then she looked down at the next card.

Zachary Prescott.

The crowd started getting loud before she even said his name, because Briarwick apparently had a sixth sense for Prescott worship.

Roxie lifted the microphone and kept her smile bright.

”And number seven,” she said, her voice steady through the microphone, ”quarterback and team captain, Zachary Prescott.”

The screaming hit all at once.

”Go, Captain!”

”Prescott!”

”Let’s go, Zac!”

Zac stepped forward from the line, helmet under one arm, jersey fitted across his shoulders, and the whole gym screamed like he had already won the game.

For one second, he glanced at her.

Then he looked away and clapped toward the bleachers, giving the crowd an easy smile that had nothing to do with her.

Roxie’s chest tightened before she could stop it.

That was what she wanted. He was staying away. He was finally doing exactly what she told him to do.

She looked back at the cards and introduced the rest of the team without missing a word.

By the time the last player jogged into place, the gym was shaking with noise. The football team stood along the edge of the court, clapping above their heads, clapping above their heads and making the crowd even louder.

Roxie handed the card stack back to the student council girl waiting near the stage.

Kendall stepped down beside her.

For one second, they were shoulder to shoulder.

Kendall’s smile stayed fixed on the crowd. ”Nice job.”

Roxie smiled too. ”Don’t strain yourself.”

Kendall’s eyes flicked toward her, sharp and fast.

Coach Miller’s whistle cut through the noise before Kendall could answer.

”Places!”

The squad moved at once.

Roxie walked to the center of the court with her chin high and her ponytail swinging against her back. Angela and Karen moved into position behind her. Kendall slipped into her spot on the second line, still smiling like she had not been crying in the vice principal’s office yesterday.

The bleachers kept roaring.

Roxie could feel phones going up, little screens lifting from every direction like the whole gym was waiting for either a routine or another breakdown.

She rolled her shoulders once and lifted her arms into starting position.

Across the court, the football team spread out near the wall. Zac stood near the front with the other seniors, helmet tucked under one arm.

He kept his attention on the bleachers.

Roxie faced forward before her brain could make that mean anything.

The music started.

The first beat hit hard enough to shake the floor.

Roxie moved.

The squad followed her counts, shoes squeaking against the polished court. The opening was sharp and loud, with the front line cutting through the music while the back line clapped over their heads.

The crowd screamed when they hit the first formation.

Roxie smiled brighter.

Her body knew what to do even while her head stayed crowded with everything else. Arms tight. Chin up. Hair out of her face. Smile pretty enough to sell the lie.

She stepped back into the next count. Everyone was on time.

Roxie kept watching from the corner of her eye.

The music jumped into the chant section.

Roxie clapped twice and turned toward the bleachers. ”Who owns the sky?”

The squad answered behind her. ”Ravens!”

The crowd joined in immediately.

”Who owns the field?”

”Ravens!”

The gym thundered with stomping feet.

Roxie turned, hair flying over one shoulder, and led the next move. The squad dropped low, snapped up, and split into two lines as the center stunt group moved into place behind her.

This was the part that could not go wrong.

Roxie’s smile stayed on, but her eyes moved quickly across the formation.

The bases were set. The back spot was ready. The flyer was smiling like she was not about to trust three girls with her spine in front of the whole school.

The count came.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight.

They dipped and lifted.

The flyer went up clean, and the gym screamed like they had just witnessed a miracle instead of something the squad had practiced until everyone’s legs hurt.

Roxie clapped above her head, spun into the next count, and let the routine carry her.

For a while, it worked.

The first stunt came down clean. The squad transitioned into the dance break. The music turned heavier, all bass and sharp beats, and the formation opened around Roxie at the front.

She hit the first move harder than necessary.

Karen whooped behind her. ”Get it, captain!”

A few students near the front laughed and screamed.

Roxie rolled into the next count, turned, snapped her hair over her shoulder, and caught Kendall watching from the second line.

Kendall’s smile had thinned.

Roxie gave her the same bright cheerleader smile she had been wearing all morning, then turned back to the crowd and hit the next eight-count perfectly.

The gym ate it up.

Phones were everywhere now, little screens glowing from the bleachers, following her, following the squad, waiting for something worth posting.

Then the formation shifted.

Roxie jumped back into the next transition, landing at the front edge of the center stunt group, exactly where she was supposed to be.

The center group should have shifted behind her on the next count.

A sharp gasp cut through the left side of the squad.

Roxie felt the air move before she saw anything.

She turned her head just as the flyer came down off count, her legs swinging toward Roxie’s shoulder and head instead of into the cradle. One of the bases had shifted too far forward. The back spot reached late.

For half a second, the whole routine almost broke open.

Roxie ducked and twisted out of the way, one hand shooting up on instinct as the flyer’s shoe grazed her shoulder.

The crowd gasped.

The flyer landed hard into her bases, arms grabbing, sneakers squeaking against the court. The stunt group stumbled, but they held her long enough to keep everyone off the floor.

Roxie’s heart slammed against her ribs.

The music kept going, and every phone in the bleachers stayed up.