Chapter 220 - The Chat
Roxie stayed on the couch after leaving the voicemail.
Her phone rested on the coffee table with the screen facing up. Whenever headlights crossed the front window, she looked toward it, expecting Zac’s name to appear.
The screen remained dark.
She tried eating crackers from the kitchen, but the first one turned dry inside her mouth. She forced herself to swallow, returned the rest to the cabinet, and carried a glass of water back to the living room. She left it untouched beside her phone.
Zac had spoken to Dylan and Mason. He knew she had spent the day looking for him. He knew she was worried, and he still would not call.
Roxie pulled his football shirt from the arm of the couch and held it across her stomach. The bungalow felt warm, but she curled around the shirt and lowered herself onto one side.
Her body ached from practice. A school project remained unfinished inside her bag, and she needed to study for a quiz. The kitchen counters needed wiping, and clothes covered the chair inside her bedroom.
She stared at the dark corner near the television.
She knew she should move.
Her shoulders felt too heavy to lift from the couch.
Roxie pulled her knees closer and ground her teeth until her jaw hurt.
Her phone vibrated.
She grabbed it before the second vibration.
The notification came from the party chat Karen had added her to after Kyle’s pool party. Roxie almost ignored it. The chat had been active all day with pictures, jokes, and arguments about who had embarrassed themselves Saturday.
Then she saw Zac’s name in the preview.
Did Prescott get jumped or something?
Roxie opened the chat.
A photograph filled the screen.
Zac sat on the couch inside Dylan’s living room with an ice pack pressed against the left side of his face. His hood was down, exposing the swelling around his eye and the bruises spreading across his jaw.
Three girls surrounded him.
One sat on the arm of the couch close enough that her thigh touched his shoulder. Another leaned over the back with one hand near his neck. The third sat beside him with her legs folded beneath her and one hand wrapped around his wrist.
Dylan stood behind them holding a drink.
Zac looked exhausted. His shoulders sagged, and the hand holding the ice pack barely seemed strong enough to keep it against his face.
Roxie barely noticed that part.
She saw the girls first.
Her thumb moved across the screen, enlarging the picture until Zac’s face filled most of it. His lip was split badly. Dark bruising covered the side of his face, and the skin near his temple looked swollen.
One school fight had not caused all of that.
Roxie zoomed out again.
The girl’s hand remained around his wrist.
Her stomach twisted.
Messages appeared beneath the photograph.
Mike did that?
No way Mike hit him that many times
Prescott hit him first
Mike said something about Roxie and the Fairmont QB
Ethan
Yeah him
Same thing basically
The girls are still all over him lol
Roxie read the messages twice before looking at the picture again.
Mike had said something about her and Ethan. Zac had punched him.
She should have felt relieved that the fight had involved her rather than another girl.
She should have been more worried about his face.
Instead, she kept looking at the girls.
One touched his wrist. Another leaned close enough to whisper near his ear. Zac had ignored Roxie for an entire day while sitting at Dylan’s house surrounded by people who were allowed to see him, speak to him, and touch him.
Another message appeared.
He looks wrecked
Mike got like one punch in before Dylan grabbed him
Then who did the rest?
The typing bubbles appeared and disappeared.
Nobody answered.
Roxie tapped Zac’s name and called him.
The phone rang once before the call ended.
She stared at the screen.
He had rejected it.
Roxie called again. This time, the call went straight to voicemail.
Her chest tightened until taking a full breath hurt.
Zac had the phone in his hand. He had seen her name and decided he would rather stay on Dylan’s couch with three girls around him than speak to her.
She opened their messages.
You rejected my call?
The message showed as delivered.
Roxie stood and paced between the living room and kitchen. She held the phone tightly enough for the edge of the case to dig into her palm.
Thirty seconds passed.
No reply.
She typed again.
I saw the picture.
The message went through.
Zac still said nothing.
Roxie grabbed her coat from the chair. Her fingers shook so badly that she missed the first button twice. She gave up, pulled the coat closed, and opened the ride app.
The fare to Dylan’s neighborhood made her hesitate.
That money was supposed to help with groceries.
Roxie looked at the photograph again and booked the ride.
The driver arrived nine minutes later. She was already standing beside the road with her arms folded against the cold when the car slowed near the bungalow.
"You Roxanne?" the driver asked after she climbed into the back seat.
"Yeah."
Roxie kept her phone in her lap during the entire ride. The screen stayed dark while streets passed outside the window.
The driver tried speaking to her twice. Roxie gave short answers and returned her attention to the phone. Her knee bounced beneath the edge of her coat until she pressed one hand against it.
She wanted Zac safe. She wanted to touch his face and find out who had hurt him.
She also wanted to drag every girl away from him by the hair.
The thoughts moved together until Roxie could no longer separate the fear from the anger.
Dylan’s house stood near the end of a quiet street. Several vehicles filled the driveway, including one Roxie recognized from Kyle’s party.
Zac’s truck was missing.
For a second, Roxie thought he might have already left and she had wasted money she needed on a ride across town.
Then movement passed behind the living room window.
People were inside.
Music carried through the walls into the front yard. It was quieter than a real party, but loud enough that nobody heard her first knock.
Roxie knocked harder.
Footsteps approached from inside.
Dylan opened the door, and his expression changed the moment he saw her.
"Shit."
"Move."
"Roxie."
"Is he here?"
Dylan looked over his shoulder.
That was enough.
Roxie stepped forward, but Dylan blocked part of the doorway.
"You need to calm down."
"I called him."
"He doesn’t want you seeing him right now. This is a bad time."
"I already saw him."
Dylan’s shoulders dropped.
"Move."
"Those pictures look worse than it is."
"So there aren’t girls sitting all over him?"
Dylan glanced behind him again.
Roxie tightened her jaw. "Move, Dylan."
He stepped aside.
The living room looked almost exactly like the photograph.
Zac sat on the couch with the ice pack against his face. The same girl remained on the armrest beside him. Another sat on the floor near his feet, while the third had moved closer on the opposite side of the couch.
Her fingers were still around Zac’s wrist.
Mason and Kyle stood near the kitchen entrance. Open food containers covered the coffee table, and several bottles sat between them.
The room became quiet when Roxie entered.
Zac lowered the ice pack. His visible eye widened when he saw her.
"What are you doing here?"
Roxie closed the front door behind her. "You rejected my call."
Zac glanced at Dylan.
Dylan lifted both hands. "I didn’t tell her."
"Someone posted again."
The girl holding Zac’s wrist started removing her hand.
Roxie crossed the room before she finished.
She caught the girl’s hand and wrapped her fingers around it.
The girl froze.
"What the hell?"
Roxie tightened her grip.
The girl’s skin felt warm beneath her fingers. Her nails were painted pale pink, and her brown hair fell over one shoulder as she twisted toward Roxie.
For half a second, Roxie imagined grabbing it.
"Roxie," Zac said.
She kept staring at the girl.
"Let go of me," the girl whispered.
Roxie’s other hand twitched at her side.
She wanted to reach for the girl’s hair badly enough that her fingers started opening.
Zac pushed himself upright, pain tightening his face.
"Let her go."
Roxie looked at him.
He had ignored her all day, rejected her call, and now the first thing he wanted from her was to protect the girl touching him.
Her grip tightened once more before she forced her fingers open.
The girl pulled her hand against her chest and moved away from the couch.
Roxie looked at her hair.
"Bianca’s hair was brown too."
The girl stopped.
Mason straightened near the kitchen. Kyle’s head lifted, and Dylan closed his eyes briefly.
The other girls stared at Roxie.
"What?" the girl asked.
"I pulled a chunk out." Roxie flexed her fingers slowly. "It had blood on the ends."
Nobody moved.
Roxie looked between the three girls.
"I was wondering if yours would look the same."
The girl from the armrest grabbed her bag.
"We should go."
The other two moved at once. The girl Roxie had grabbed nearly tripped over the edge of the coffee table while reaching for her coat.
"Yeah," another said. "We were leaving anyway."
They hurried toward the front door. One glanced at Zac as though she expected him to stop them, but Zac remained beside the couch with the ice pack hanging from one hand.
Dylan stepped aside.
The three girls slipped through the doorway without another word.
The door closed behind them.
Roxie turned back toward Zac.
His face looked worse in person. One eye had swollen almost shut. Purple and yellow covered his cheek and jaw, and dried blood remained near the corner of his mouth.
Mike had not caused all of it.
The sight weakened her anger for one second.
Then she remembered Zac telling her to let the girl go.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Roxie asked. "You skipped school. Dylan and Mason lied to me all day, then you rejected my call while sitting here with them."
"I wasn’t sitting here with them."
Roxie gestured toward the door. "What do you call that?"
"They came over."
"And you couldn’t call me?"
Zac looked toward the floor.
His silence pushed the worry back into anger.
"Get up."
His head lifted. "What?"
"You’re coming with me."
His mouth tightened. "No."
"Yes."
"I’m staying here."
The answer landed inside her chest.
Roxie folded her arms to hide the way her hands had started shaking. "Why?"
"I need to."
"You need to stay with Dylan and girls touching you?"
"This isn’t about them."
"Then what is it about?"
Zac pressed the ice pack harder against his face. "I can’t talk here."
"Good. That’s why you’re coming with me."
"I said no."
Roxie stared at him.
His voice remained low, but his body looked ready to fold back into the couch. His shoulders sagged beneath his shirt, and one hand pressed against his ribs whenever he shifted.
Roxie stepped closer and reached toward his face.
Zac turned away.
"Don’t."
Her hand stopped between them.
The rejection hurt more now that the girls were gone.
"You let her touch you."
"She was checking my hand."
"And I can’t touch your face?"
"I don’t want you seeing me like this."
"I already see you."
The room stayed quiet.
Mason shifted near the kitchen entrance. Kyle looked at the floor, and Dylan rubbed both hands over his face.
Roxie looked at Zac’s bruises again.
"Who did this?"
Nobody answered.
She faced Zac. "Mike?"
"He started it."
"That isn’t what I asked."
"He got a hit in."
"One hit?"
Zac said nothing.
Roxie swallowed against the pressure rising in her throat.
"Was it your dad?"
His jaw moved.
The room seemed to shrink around them.
"Zac."
"Can we talk later?"
"No."
"I’m tired."
"I spent all day thinking something happened to you."
"Something did happen."
"Then tell me."
"Not here."
Roxie pointed toward the door. "Then come with me."
Zac looked at Dylan.
That look hurt more than the rejected call.
"You need his permission now?"
"No."
"Then get up."
Dylan stepped closer. "Zac, just go."
Zac looked at him sharply.
"You wanted her to know you were safe," Dylan said. "She knows now. Go talk."
Zac looked back at Roxie.
She waited.
He remained seated.
Roxie felt the fear return beneath her anger. She could still see the empty chair in Chemistry and Dylan’s face when he said Zac was alive.
"You want time?" she asked. "Fine. Let’s break up, then you can have all the time you want."
Zac groaned and tipped his head back.
The reaction made her step closer.
"Seriously?"
"Here we go again."
"Yeah, here we go again. You disappear, ignore me, and then act tired when I’m pissed."
Roxie turned toward the door.
She expected him to let her take several steps before following.
Zac stood immediately.
Pain crossed his face as he straightened, but he reached her before she made it past the couch. His fingers closed around her hand.
Relief moved through Roxie so quickly that her knees weakened.
She looked down at their joined hands, aware of Mason, Kyle, and Dylan watching them.
Zac’s grip was careful despite the swelling across his knuckles.
Roxie looked up at him.
"You want to stay here?" she asked.
Zac kept holding her hand.
"No."
"Then come with me."
He looked toward Dylan.
Roxie’s relief sharpened into irritation. "You need him to say yes?"
"No."
Dylan nodded toward the door. "Go, man."
Zac released Roxie’s hand and looked toward the end of the couch.
A dark duffel rested beside his backpack.
Roxie had seen the same bag inside Dylan’s vehicle that morning.
Zac reached for both.
"Why are you bringing that?"
His hand stopped on the duffel strap. "Football stuff."
"You skipped school."
"I know."
"Why was it in Dylan’s car this morning?"
Zac pulled the strap over his shoulder. "Can we go?"
Roxie stared at the bag.
It looked too full for football clothes.
Something still felt wrong, but Zac had started toward the door.
Roxie opened the ride app and confirmed another booking.
Dylan followed them outside.
"Text me," he told Zac.
Roxie looked at him. "He’ll have his phone."
Dylan pressed his lips together.
The ride arrived before either of them spoke again.
Roxie climbed into the back seat first. Zac followed slowly and placed the duffel between his feet.
The driver glanced at Zac through the mirror.
"You need a hospital?"
"No," Zac said.
Roxie looked at him.
He turned his damaged face toward the window.
The car pulled away from Dylan’s house. Streetlights passed over Zac’s bruises, showing them clearly before darkness covered them again.