Chapter 194 - I Changed My Mind
Roxie’s POV
Roxie stared at the photograph until the screen dimmed.
The girl had both arms around Zac’s neck. His hand was around her waist, holding her upright, though the picture made it look like he had pulled her there. His eyes were half closed, and the split in his lower lip looked darker beneath the party lights.
The caption sat above them.
the myth. the legend. in my arms.
Roxie had sent one message.
Roxie: Are you having fun?
Zac answered almost immediately.
Zac: She fell into me.
Zac: I caught her.
Zac: Nothing happened.
Roxie believed him.
She knew Zac well enough to recognize when he was lying, and his explanation matched the confusion on his face in the photograph. He looked drunk, irritated, and barely aware of the girl hanging from his neck.
Believing him failed to make the picture hurt less.
Roxie placed her phone on the dining table and looked toward the kitchen.
Claire’s ashes remained beside the blue mug.
She had spent most of her shift at the grill washing dishes because the noise and hot water kept her occupied. Ethan had asked whether she felt well. Roxie told him she was tired, and he left her near the sink for the rest of the evening.
She had returned to the bungalow determined to shower and sleep.
Then the picture arrived.
Her phone vibrated again.
Zac: Roxie.
Zac: Answer me.
The phone began ringing.
Roxie watched it for several seconds before answering.
"What?"
Music and voices filled the other end. Zac said something to someone nearby, then the noise faded.
"She fell," he said. His words were slower than usual. "I caught her before she hit the floor. She took the picture without asking."
"I believe you."
Zac went quiet.
Roxie heard a door close behind him. Wind moved across the phone.
"You believe me?"
"Yes."
"Then why did you send that?"
"Because I wanted to know whether you were having fun."
"I wasn’t doing anything with her."
"I already said I believe you."
The answer came sharper than Roxie intended.
Zac remained quiet, and she pictured him standing outside Kyle’s house with his hoodie open and a cup still in his hand. He sounded drunk enough that every sentence required extra thought.
"How much did you drink?"
"I don’t know."
"That much."
"I’m fine."
Roxie looked at the split in his lip in the photograph. "You’re drunk with an injury you refused to explain."
"I explained the girl."
"That wasn’t what I meant."
Someone spoke near him. Zac answered, and Roxie heard the words Uber and address.
She sat straighter. "Where are you going?"
"To your house."
"No. Stay with Kyle."
"I’m already leaving."
"Zac, you can barely speak properly."
"I can speak."
"You sound drunk."
"That’s because I am."
The admission stopped her.
A car door opened and closed. Zac gave the driver her street before returning to the call.
Roxie pressed her fingers against her forehead.
"You gave a stranger my address."
"He’s an Uber driver. He needs the address."
"You could’ve waited until tomorrow."
"I’m not waiting while you think I cheated on you."
"I never said you cheated."
"You sent me the picture."
"Because the picture bothered me."
"I’m coming over."
The call ended.
Roxie stared at the phone.
Twenty minutes later, headlights moved across the living room wall.
She pulled the curtain aside.
A dark car had stopped near the curb. Zac climbed out of the back seat and kept one hand on the roof for several seconds before closing the door. The driver waited until he reached the walkway.
Roxie opened the front door before Zac knocked.
His hair had fallen across his forehead. His hoodie hung open over a wrinkled shirt, and the cut in his lower lip had opened again. She smelled the alcohol before he entered.
Zac stopped in front of her.
"Nothing happened."
"I know."
He searched her face as though he expected to find the accusation hidden somewhere.
Roxie stepped aside.
Zac removed his shoes near the door without being asked. He stood too quickly afterward and caught himself against the wall.
Roxie closed the door.
"You’re completely drunk."
"I’ve been worse."
"That helps."
Zac followed her into the living room.
His gaze found Claire’s ashes beside the sink. He slowed, and for a few seconds the alcohol disappeared from his expression.
Roxie went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water.
"Drink."
Zac accepted it. "She fell into me."
"You’ve said that four times."
"I want you to understand."
"I understand. She fell, you caught her, and she took the picture."
"I told her to delete it."
Roxie folded her arms. "Then you kept drinking."
Zac took a swallow before answering. "I couldn’t find her."
"You could’ve stopped drinking."
His face tightened, though the reaction came slower than usual.
The alcohol mattered more than the girl.
Zac had been angry with her, frightened of his father, and unsure of everything waiting after graduation. He had gone to Kyle’s because he wanted to avoid all of it.
He had chosen alcohol for the same reason Roxie had chosen cheer practice and Zac’s body. They both wanted something loud enough to push every other thought away.
Understanding him failed to make her less angry.
"I asked if you were avoiding me," she said.
"I was."
The direct answer struck harder than an excuse.
Zac lowered the glass.
"I didn’t want to talk about Tennessee again. I didn’t want to go home either. Kyle’s was easier."
Roxie looked at him.
He had stayed because drinking beside his friends required nothing from him. Nobody there asked where he planned to live, what his father had done, or whether the girl he loved would follow him after graduation.
Nobody there even knew there was a girl he loved.
Roxie walked to the coffee table and picked up her phone. She opened the photograph again and held it toward him.
"I believe nothing happened with her. Look at everything else."
Zac glanced at the screen.
"What am I supposed to see?"
"Nobody there knew."
"Knew what?"
"That she was touching someone’s boyfriend."
His gaze lifted.
"She put her arms around your neck in front of an entire room," Roxie continued. "She took a picture, called you hers, and posted it because everyone there thought you were available. Nobody told her to move. Nobody even looked surprised."
Zac handed the phone back.
"That was our decision."
"I know."
"We both agreed to keep this quiet."
Roxie placed the phone on the table. She had wanted secrecy because she feared losing captain, her friends, and whatever remained of her reputation. Zac had agreed because she asked him to.
The reasons had felt important then.
Now she could barely remember why being unseen had once felt safer.
"I changed my mind."
Zac stared at her.
"About us being secret?"
"Yes."
The answer seemed to clear some of the alcohol from his face.
"Because of the picture?"
"The picture made me realize how much I hate it."
"You were the one who wanted this."
Roxie felt her temper rise again. She wanted it but so did he. She refused to spend the rest of the night defending her right to want something different.
"I know what I wanted before."
"Then tell me what changed."
Roxie opened her mouth, but the explanation remained trapped behind everything she refused to say.
Claire had been gone for more than a month before she died. Most people had barely noticed her absence. Then Claire became a body Roxie had to identify, a name on paperwork, and ashes inside a plain container.
At school, Coach Miller called it a family matter.
Karen and Angela knew Roxie was struggling, though neither knew her mother was dead.
Nobody looked at Roxie and understood that her entire life had changed.
She had defended the little Claire gave her because admitting the truth meant admitting how little her mother had wanted her.
"I’m tired of acting like people mean less than they do."
Zac’s gaze shifted toward the kitchen.
Roxie saw the connection happen.
"Is this because Claire died?"
Her shoulders tightened.
"That doesn’t make it meaningless."
"I didn’t say it did."
"You asked like you’re checking whether I’m thinking clearly."
"She died two days ago. You haven’t slept. Everything is changing fast."
"So I’m too upset to know what I want?"
Zac rubbed one hand over his face. "I’m trying to understand why you suddenly want everyone involved in something we kept hidden for months."
"I don’t want everyone involved. I want them to know you’re with me."
He watched her for several seconds.
Roxie reached for the glass before it slipped in his hand and placed it on the table.
"The girl isn’t the only reason I’m angry."
"I figured that out."
"You expect me to follow you to Tennessee while you still look single in Briarwick."
Zac’s expression changed.
Roxie continued before he could turn the conversation into another argument about applications, money, or housing.
"You planned a place for me inside your future. You looked at schools and jobs because you assumed I would come with you. Then today you couldn’t even look at me in chemistry."
"We were fighting."
"Are we? You acted like I wasn’t there."
"We always act like that at school."
"That is the problem."
Zac went quiet.
Roxie looked at the split in his mouth.
Zac turned his face away.
"I never wanted to hide you," he said.
The words came quietly.
Roxie studied him.
"You said you only needed a few weeks. You got the offer. There’s no reason we still have to hide."
Zac looked at her again.
She stepped closer.
Alcohol clung to his clothes and breath, but underneath it remained the familiar scent of his hoodie and skin. He had crossed town in an Uber because he could not leave the photograph unanswered until morning.
That mattered.
It failed to erase the rest.
"I want Karen and Angela to know," Roxie said. "I want your friends to know. I want people at school to stop thinking they can touch either of us because nobody will care."
"What about cheer?"
"I’ll deal with it."
Zac glanced toward Claire’s ashes.
Roxie refused to let him reduce the decision to grief again. Claire’s death had changed something. That failed to make the change temporary or untrue.
She stepped close enough that the front of his hoodie touched her shirt.
Zac placed one hand against her waist. His grip was careful, as though he expected her to move away.
Roxie stayed where she was.
"I want us public."
Zac looked at her for several seconds.
Roxie had expected relief. He had complained about the secrecy before. He had wanted to tell people she was his long before she was ready.
Instead, his eyes moved over her face as though he were trying to separate what she wanted from everything that had happened during the past days.
"Let’s talk about this tomorrow."
Roxie’s body stiffened beneath his hand.
"I’m telling you now."
"I know."
"Then what is there to talk about?"
Zac released a slow breath.
"I’m drunk, Roxie. You’re angry, and your mother died days ago. I don’t want us changing everything tonight and fighting about why we did it tomorrow."
Zac removed his hand from her waist and reached for the water.
Roxie stepped back.
He drank while she watched him, and the distance between them felt larger than the space she had created.
"Tomorrow," Zac said after lowering the glass.
Roxie looked toward the photograph on her phone.
"Fine. Tomorrow."
He heard the anger she placed inside the word.
Neither of them tried to soften it.