Chapter 183 - Back To Briarwick
Winter break gave Roxie something she had almost forgotten existed.
She slept.
She still worked several shifts at the Grill, standing over the deep sink while dirty plates, greasy pans, and fryer baskets piled up around her. By the end of every shift, the front of her shirt was damp, her hands smelled like dish soap, and Ethan’s uncle always seemed to find one last pan after she had already drained the sink.
She babysat too. She fed Jason, cleaned whatever he spilled, helped him get ready for bed, and sat through movies she had already seen enough times to quote.
Her days stayed busy, but school stopped taking whatever energy she had left.
There were no Chemistry problems waiting inside her bag after work. No essays due before midnight. No alarm dragging her out of bed after she had spent half the night studying at the kitchen table.
Some mornings, Roxie slept until ten.
Once, she slept until almost noon and woke up confused because sunlight had already filled her room.
She stared at the ceiling for several seconds before reaching for her phone.
Zac: Alive?
Roxie: Unfortunately.
Zac: Come outside.
She pulled on sweatpants and walked into the living room with her hair tangled around her face. Through the front window, she saw him waiting beside his truck with breakfast in one hand and the pleased expression of someone who had successfully disturbed her peace.
She loved him for it.
She loved him through the entire break, which was becoming a serious problem because Roxie had no idea how to love Zac calmly.
Whenever she finished at the Grill, he found a reason to be nearby. Sometimes he came inside and ordered food he barely touched. Sometimes he parked across the street and waited until her shift ended.
Ethan noticed every time.
He usually watched Zac’s truck through the front window before looking at Roxie like she had personally invited an infection into the parking lot.
When she babysat, Zac texted her until Jason fell asleep. Afterward, they took whatever time they could get.
They sat in his truck with the heater running while the windows slowly fogged.
They drove around Briarwick without deciding where they were going.
They bought food and argued over who had stolen whose fries.
They kissed until her mouth hurt and her body stayed restless long after he took her home.
They also avoided college whenever the subject came too close.
Tennessee still waited in front of Zac.
His parents still had the military academy waiting behind him.
Roxie had bills, work, her mother, and application deadlines she kept pretending she had forgotten.
Winter break fixed none of it. It only gave her more hours with him before everything became complicated again.
On the first morning back at Briarwick, Roxie woke before her alarm.
She stayed beneath the blanket and checked the message already waiting on her phone.
Zac: Miss me?
Roxie: We saw each other yesterday.
Zac: That wasn’t my question.
Roxie smiled into her pillow.
Roxie: I tolerated your absence overnight.
Zac: I knew you were obsessed with me.
Roxie: Seek professional help.
Zac: You first.
She got out of bed before he could make himself more unbearable.
The school parking lot was full when Roxie arrived. Students crossed between cars carrying backpacks, coffee, and the exhausted expressions of people being forced back into civilization.
Roxie had barely stepped through the main doors when someone called her name.
Karen came through the crowd in a long coat and black boots that looked far too expensive for Briarwick’s wet floors.
Roxie braced herself just before Karen wrapped both arms around her.
"You’re alive," Karen said.
"You sound disappointed."
"I spent ten days surrounded by relatives. At this point, I’m relieved to see anyone who cannot explain how we’re related."
Roxie laughed and hugged her back. "How was Italy?"
"Beautiful. Cold. Full of churches, stairs, and family members who believed starvation began fifteen minutes after your last meal."
"That sounds terrible."
"It was exhausting." Karen released her and fixed the collar of her coat. "I gained four pounds and developed a personal hatred for cobblestones."
"You wore heels."
Karen gave her a flat look. "I was in Italy, Roxie. I refused to disrespect an entire country by wearing sneakers in every picture."
Another pair of arms wrapped around Roxie from the side.
Angela pressed her cheek against Roxie’s shoulder. "I missed you."
Roxie turned and hugged her properly. Angela smelled like coconut lotion, and her skin was slightly darker from her trip.
"You look offensively healthy," Roxie said.
Angela smiled. "Thank you."
"That was an insult."
"I know. You still sound jealous. It must be the tan."
Roxie rolled her eyes and nudged Angela with her shoulder.
Karen looked Angela over. "She spent Christmas in South Florida while I was being dragged through historical buildings before breakfast."
"We visited historical places too," Angela said.
Karen lifted an eyebrow. "You posted a picture holding a pineapple drink beside a pool."
"There was history nearby."
"How close?"
"I could probably have reached it by car."
Roxie laughed as they started down the hallway together.
Angela had spent most of her break in South Florida with her family. She told them about the beach, the warm afternoons, a boat ride that made her seasick, and the sunburn her brother got after insisting sunscreen was unnecessary.
They reached Karen’s locker. She entered the combination, pulled the handle, and frowned when it stayed closed.
"I forgot how to open this."
"You’ve been gone for ten days," Roxie said.
"I was living a different life."
"You visited family."
"In Italy."
"You keep saying that like you were adopted by the royal family."
Karen tried the combination again. "You’re jealous because I ate better food than you."
"I got dates."
Karen looked at her. "You’re comparing your boyfriend to Italian food. That’s sad."
Roxie chuckled. "You’re just bitter because no Italian man proposed."
"Several considered it."
The locker finally opened.
Karen looked pleased with herself before turning toward Roxie. "What did you do for the break?"
Roxie adjusted the strap of her bag.
Usually, this was where she gave them an edited version.
She went somewhere fancy.
She attended a party with celebrities.
She invented something stupid enough to make them laugh, then changed the subject before they could ask what she had really done.
This time, the truth felt easier.
Maybe because winter break had actually been happy.
"I stayed in Briarwick," Roxie said. "I slept and slept and slept, then spent a lot of time with Zac."
Karen slowly closed her locker.
Angela’s smile widened.
Roxie already regretted the last part.
Karen leaned closer. "How much time?"
"Some."
"Did you?"
Roxie stared at her. "Shut up, Karen. Your mind is always in the gutter."
"You’re blushing," Angela said with a smile.
"I’m warm."
Karen looked around the hallway. "We’re standing beside an exterior door in January."
Roxie looked away. "Just so you know, Zac is willing to wait."
Karen scoffed. "Zac? Wait? He probably has a side chick he’s banging while you praise his patience."
"Karen!" Angela said.
Karen looked at her. "I said probably."
Roxie laughed because Karen clearly did not believe it either. "He’s been perfect."
Karen’s expression tightened immediately.
Roxie sighed happily. "I somehow got the perfect boyfriend."
Angela made a soft sound beside her.
Karen rolled her eyes. "The six-foot-three probably helped."
"Shut up." Roxie laughed, unable to stop herself from looking down the hallway.
Zac stood near the trophy cases with Dylan and Mason. Mason was talking, but Zac’s attention had already moved toward her.
Their eyes met.
His mouth curved.
Roxie felt the same warmth that had followed her through most of winter break.
"I am happy," she admitted.
Karen pressed one hand against her chest. "Yes. We gathered that around the third declaration."
"Let her be happy," Angela said.
"I am."
"You look irritated."
"That is how my face celebrates."
Angela squeezed Roxie’s arm. "I’m glad."
She glanced at the clock. "It’s nice that Coach Miller gave us time to enjoy the break."
Karen groaned and leaned her head against the locker. "Why would you say his name this early?"
"He’s our coach."
"He was gone from my life for seven peaceful days. I was beginning to heal."
Roxie adjusted her bag. "He’s going to make us condition today."
"I know. I can already hear the whistle."
"That could be trauma," Angela said gently.
Karen looked at her. "Thank you for your concern."
"You’re welcome."
Roxie laughed and pulled them away from the lockers before Karen could continue defending herself.
They moved through the crowded hallway together. Karen complained about practice and the cruelty of returning to school after international travel. Angela told them about the Florida airport and how her mother had packed enough clothes for a month.
Roxie stayed between them, listening as they talked over each other.
She had missed Karen’s sarcasm.
She had missed Angela’s warm smile right before she said something that made Karen question their friendship.
She had missed being able to stand between them and feel normal.
The first bell rang before they reached the science hallway.
Roxie entered AP Chemistry and stopped beside her desk.
A coffee sat in the center of the table.
Her usual order.
She glanced toward Zac without turning her head completely.
He was seated two rows away, leaning back in his chair with his phone hidden beneath the table.
Her phone vibrated.
Zac: Don’t make it obvious.
Roxie sat down and placed her bag beside her chair.
Roxie: You put coffee directly on my desk.
Zac: Could’ve been anyone. You’re welcome.
Roxie lifted the coffee and took a drink.
It was still warm.
She looked at him again from the corner of her eye.
His hoodie was dark blue today. His hair still looked slightly damp, and he had the relaxed posture he used whenever he wanted everyone to believe he had made no effort.
He had probably spent ten minutes on his hair.
He caught her looking.
His eyebrows lifted.
Roxie lowered her eyes to her phone.
Roxie: I love you.
Zac went still.
He looked at her before he could stop himself.
Roxie hid her smile behind the coffee cup.
His reply came a few seconds later.
Zac: Say it to my face.
Roxie: Absolutely not.
Zac: Coward. I love you too.
Roxie stared at the message.
She loved him.
She loved the coffee on her desk. She loved the way he always looked for her when she entered a room. She loved that he could annoy her within seconds and still make her want to move closer.
She even loved his stupid hair.
That last part was humiliating.
The classroom door opened before she could answer.
Mr. Callahan walked in carrying a travel mug and a stack of papers. He placed both on his desk, faced the room, and waited until the conversations quieted.
"I hope everyone had a restful break," he said. "I did."
Someone near the back called, "Where did you go?"
"My fiancée and I spent several days in New York."
A few girls groaned.
Mr. Callahan pointed toward them. "That reaction confirms we need to address something before class begins."
More students started laughing.
He folded his arms. "I am engaged, loyal, and completely unavailable. Anyone who returned from winter break still carrying an inappropriate crush should use this semester to recover."
The class erupted.
"Oh my God," a girl near Roxie said.
"Sir, nobody asked," someone called from the back.
Mr. Callahan grinned. "Your embarrassment tells me the announcement was necessary, especially for the boys in the back."
The class laughed louder.
One of the boys called, "Leave us alone, sir."
"I’m trying to help you move forward."
Mr. Callahan picked up the stack of papers. "Now that I have crushed several dreams, we can discuss chemical equilibrium."
The groaning became louder.
"Your excitement is overwhelming."
The rest of the school day passed faster than Roxie expected.
Teachers talked about the semester ahead. Students complained about being tired. Everyone asked about winter break while pretending they had not already seen every picture online.
By the final bell, Roxie had a new list of assignments, two upcoming tests, and a strong desire to return to bed.
Cheer practice removed that option.
Coach Miller had them running within ten minutes.
Karen reached Roxie during the third lap with the expression of someone being personally betrayed.
"He gave us seven days off so he could plan this," Karen said.
"You’ve been running for six minutes."
"And I’ve suffered through every one of them."
Practice continued with conditioning, jumps, tumbling drills, and repeated sections of their state routine.
Coach Miller had given them time off during winter break, but he clearly expected them to make up for every relaxed morning in one afternoon.
By the end, Roxie’s shirt clung to her back and her legs shook whenever she stood still.
Karen dropped onto the mat beside Angela. "Tell my family I fought bravely."
Angela offered her a water bottle. "You complained bravely."
Karen accepted it. "I’m glad my suffering entertains you."
"It doesn’t." Angela glanced toward Coach Miller. "It just adds another line to Coach’s forehead."
Karen looked at Coach Miller, then back at Angela. "That makes me feel better."
"I knew it would."
Coach Miller blew his whistle and called everyone together.
The team gathered in front of him.
"We have a lot of work ahead of us," he said. "I hope those seven days were worth it because we’re going harder from here."
The team groaned.
Coach Miller raised his eyebrows. "You can groan now. Tomorrow, you’ll be too tired."
The groaning grew louder.
He continued talking about their schedule, the sections of the routine that needed work, and how quickly State would arrive.
Roxie listened, though her attention drifted toward the gym doors when she heard movement outside.
Part of her wondered whether Zac had finished football training.
Part of her wondered whether he would be waiting at the cemetery.
That thought made her smile before she could stop it.
Coach Miller dismissed the team a few minutes later.
Everyone moved toward their bags, water bottles, and the locker room. Karen continued complaining while Angela reminded her they had survived worse practices.
Roxie reached for her jacket.
"Roxie."
Coach Miller’s voice stopped her.
She turned.
He stood near the edge of the mat with his phone in one hand.
Something about his face made the happiness leave her.
Coach Miller usually showed everything he felt. Pride, anger, disappointment, and frustration appeared immediately.
Now he looked pale.
His jaw was tight, and his shoulders stayed stiff beneath his Briarwick jacket.
Roxie walked toward him. "What happened?"
He glanced at the other girls before lowering his voice. "I need you to stay calm."
Her stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"The front office transferred a call to me." He looked at the phone in his hand. "The person asked to speak with you."
"Who is it?"
Coach Miller hesitated.
That frightened her more than an answer would have.
"Coach?"
He held out the phone.
Roxie took it slowly and pressed it to her ear.
"Hello?"
A man spoke on the other end.
"Am I talking to Roxxane Jones?"