The Captain's Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 143: Chapter 143 - Spirit Week

Roxie woke up with her hands still stinging.

For a few seconds, she stayed on her side and flexed her fingers under the blanket. Her knuckles felt raw from the sink. Her palms felt tight from hot water and soap. When she curled them, the skin pulled.

Great.

Exactly what every cheer captain needed after Coach Miller decided State prep meant attempted murder with counts.

The room was cold. Her phone was on the bed beside her face, the alarm still glowing on the screen. She had slept through the first one, maybe the second too. The light outside her window looked pale and mean, the kind of December morning that gave nobody a fair start.

Roxie sat up fast.

Her head protested.

She ignored it and swung her legs off the bed.

The house was quiet.

Roxie listened anyway.

Nothing.

She stood and grabbed the first clean shirt she saw. Her cheer jacket hung over the chair, half dry and wrinkled. Her work shirt was in a plastic bag near her laundry basket because it smelled like grease even from across the room.

She got dressed fast, then stepped into the open living room and kitchen.

The late notice was still on the table.

Everything was always due soon.

Her stomach made a small, empty sound.

She looked at the cabinet.

Then at the clock.

No time.

Also, almost nothing inside worth eating unless she counted stale crackers and a can of soup she was saving for a night when she had no energy to argue with hunger.

By the time Roxie reached Briarwick, the school had turned itself into a Christmas advertisement with tuition.

Green garland wrapped around the railings. Red bows hung from classroom doors. Paper snowflakes covered the front windows. Someone from Student Council had taped candy cane cutouts along the main hallway, and half the teachers were wearing ugly Christmas sweaters like they had been waiting all year to humiliate fabric.

One sweater blinked.

Actual lights.

Roxie stared at it as Mr. Callahan passed with a mug in one hand and a sweater covered in tiny reindeer.

”Spirit Week, Miss Jones,” he said.

”That sweater is a cry for help. You look your age.”

Mr. Callahan was younger than most of the teachers, which was why students loved reminding him he was old anyway.

He looked down at the sweater. ”Careful.” He grinned at her. ”That might earn you more experiments than you can handle.”

”Now that is blackmail.”

He walked off smiling.

The hallway was louder than a normal Tuesday morning. Students wore holiday colors, antler headbands, Santa hats, black Ravens hoodies, and cheer bows with red ribbon tied through them. Student Council had set up a table near the front office with a bright poster propped against it.

WINTER FORMAL TICKETS ON SALE AT LUNCH.

Beside it, another sign shouted:

BLACKOUT FRIDAY.

STATE SEMIFINAL SEND OFF PEP RALLY.

More posters of Zac had appeared overnight. Some were team posters. Some were game posters. One had his name printed beside the semifinal date in letters big enough for his ego to use as shelter.

Roxie slowed when she saw it.

She hated that the school made him look untouchable.

She hated more that she knew how tired he had looked when nobody else was close enough to see.

Roxie adjusted her bag and kept walking.

She reached her locker just as Angela came down the hall, smiling at her phone.

That was new.

Angela usually smiled at people, notes, small animals, teachers who gave extensions, and iced drinks with whipped cream. She smiled at her phone only when something on it deserved suspicion.

Karen noticed before Roxie could say anything.

She appeared from the other side with her jacket half zipped and her hair pulled back messier than usual.

”Who keeps making you smile like that?”

Angela looked up too fast. ”What?”

Karen pointed at the phone. ”That. That face. That is a texting face.”

Angela pressed the phone against her chest. ”It is a normal face.”

Roxie opened her locker. ”No, your normal face looks like you’re about to remind someone to drink water.”

”I care about hydration,” Angela said. ”Drinking water improves skin elasticity, plumps the surface to minimize fine lines, and helps flush toxins that can dull your complexion.”

”Okay, God. No one needs that information.”

Angela grinned at her, then turned back to her locker.

Karen leaned against the locker beside Roxie’s. ”This is different. She looks like you. This is secret boy behavior.”

Roxie stopped moving.

”We are not the same,” Roxie said.

Angela’s eyes widened. ”No. I’m not hiding any boys.”

”Boys? Plural?” Karen shook her head. ”Wow, you changed.”

”My dad just sent me money,” Angela said.

Karen grinned. ”Lies. Name.”

Angela looked down at her phone. ”There is no name.”

Roxie shut her locker halfway. ”That is worse. A nameless man.”

Angela made a small distressed sound. ”He is a person.”

Karen pointed. ”He has a name.”

”Everyone has a name,” Angela said.

”Angela.”

Angela looked trapped for three seconds, then sighed. ”His name is Caleb.”

Karen’s mouth opened. ”Caleb?”

Roxie leaned back against her locker. ”Caleb who?”

”Caleb Ross.”

Karen blinked. ”Basketball Caleb?”

Angela’s blush got worse.

Roxie smiled. ”Oh, this is excellent.”

”It is nothing,” Angela said quickly. ”We have been talking. That is all.”

Karen spun the dial on her locker and opened it.

Something small shifted inside.

Roxie saw it because she was standing close.

A small bottle sat behind Karen’s books, tucked near the back corner. It had a bright label. Orange colored liquid. It could have been juice. It probably was juice.

Karen’s hand moved fast.

She shut the locker halfway, grabbed one notebook, then closed it fully.

Angela saw it too.

Roxie knew she did because Angela’s smile thinned at the edges.

Karen turned around with too much energy. ”What?”

Roxie looked at her face.

Karen’s eyes were bright. Her smile was wide. Her cheeks had color, but the hallway was warm and crowded, so that meant nothing.

”Nothing,” Roxie said.

Angela stayed quiet.

Karen looked between them. ”Why are you both doing funeral faces?”

Roxie lifted a brow. ”Because you said this investigation is open.”

”It is. Caleb Ross is now a community concern.”

Angela groaned softly and started walking.

Karen followed, talking too fast about Caleb’s hair, Caleb’s height, and whether Angela would become the type of girl who wore his jersey if basketball season got serious.

Roxie kept walking, but her mind stayed on Karen’s locker. A small bottle, Karen’s quick hand, and Angela’s thinned smile stayed with her longer than they should have.

Roxie slowed near the classroom door.

Across the hall, Zac walked with Mason and Kyle. He wore a black Ravens hoodie and moved like his body still had a private argument with every step. Mason was talking near his ear. Kyle laughed at something behind them.

Zac did not look at Roxie.

Her phone buzzed.

Zac: You look beautiful.

Roxie typed with one thumb.

She looked half dead, but she would give him a pass.

Roxie: Thanks. You look good?

Her phone buzzed again.

Zac: You asking or telling?

Roxie looked up before she meant to.

Zac grinned, farther down the hall now, but his head turned just enough.

Their eyes met.

Less than a second.

Then Mason knocked his shoulder into Zac’s side and said something. Zac looked away first.

Roxie walked into homeroom with her phone hot in her hand.

The morning moved through Christmas themed chaos.

Karen got louder as the morning went on.

At first, it was easy to explain.

Spirit Week made everyone annoying.

By lunch, the school had gone fully insane.

The cafeteria had Christmas music playing through a speaker someone should have thrown away. Red and black streamers hung over the serving area. A group of juniors had painted their faces with Ravens stripes. Student Council had moved the Winter Formal ticket table near the entrance, which meant everyone had to pass it, see it, talk about it, and suddenly remember that December came with costs disguised as school spirit.

Roxie stood in line with Angela and Karen, staring at the menu board without planning to buy anything.

Angela held her tray. Karen had fries and a soda because Karen always said fries were a complete emotional meal.

Roxie grabbed a water cup.

Angela looked at it.

Roxie saw the concern before it formed.

”I need to diet,” Roxie said.

Angela paused. ”No. You need to eat. Soon you’ll be skin and bones.”

”Thank you.” Roxie smiled.

For a few minutes, it almost felt normal.

Then the football table erupted near the center of the cafeteria.

A group of boys started chanting something about Friday. Mason stood on his chair for three seconds before a teacher yelled at him. Kyle held both hands up like he had committed no crime. Zac sat with them, shoulders relaxed enough to pass, smiling when people turned toward him.

Dylan was still not in school.

Still, a group of confident freshmen walked up to them for a picture. Roxie’s eyes sharpened when she saw a young girl pulling Zac into a picture together.

Karen made a small sound. ”Briarwick is acting like he has already won.”

Angela looked toward the football table. ”That is a lot of pressure.”

”If I were Zac Prescott, I would charge for pictures too,” Karen said. ”Five dollars for smiling. Ten dollars if you want the damaged mysterious quarterback stare.”

Roxie’s mouth twitched.

Angela looked at Karen again, quieter this time.

Karen saw it and rolled her eyes. ”What?”

”Nothing,” Angela said.

Roxie bit her lip.

He was acting all concerned about her, then enjoying attention from a girl.

It was stupid.

It was also jealousy.

Zac froze when he glanced at her.

He knew exactly what she had seen.

Roxie hated that he looked guilty before she even said anything.