Zac stared at her.

The music from the gym pushed through the walls, heavy and muffled. Every time the doors opened, laughter spilled into the parking lot with strips of light. Students moved near the curb, calling for rides, fixing dresses, loosening ties, acting like homecoming still had any right to be fun.

Zac stood in front of her with the crown still crooked in his hair.

Roxie hated it.

He opened his mouth.

Then he stopped. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

That pause did more damage than any answer.

Roxie laughed once, soft and ugly. "That hard?"

"Roxie."

"No, answer me." Her hand tightened around her clutch. "What are we?"

His jaw moved. "You know what this is."

"I know where this is." Her voice shook, and she hated that it did. "Under the bleachers. In my bedroom. In hallways. In parking lots. I know where you can kiss me. I’m asking what I am when people can see."

Zac looked toward the gym doors.

It was quick.

Roxie still saw it.

Her chest tightened. "Exactly."

His eyes came back to her. "People are right there."

"They’re always right there, Zac."

"I know."

"No, you don’t." Roxie stepped closer. "You think the problem is Janice standing beside you or Kendall dancing with you. That pissed me off, sure. Every girl in that gym looked like she had a better right to stand near you than I did. But this is bigger than them."

His face changed.

"You asked me for a dance," she said, "and I was dumb enough to believe you really did."

"I wanted a dance with you."

"Please." Roxie looked at him, and her mouth curved like she almost pitied him. "Keep that line for the dumb girls in your life."

Silence.

For once, Zac had nothing ready.

No sharp answer. No excuse. No private look that could pull her back in. He only stood there with that stupid crown in his hair and his hand half lifted, like he wanted to reach for her but knew he had lost the right.

That silence told Roxie everything.

She pulled her hand away before he could touch her again.

"Go back inside," she said.

"Roxie."

"No." She started walking toward the curb. "I’m done."

His footsteps followed her. "Wait."

She kept going. "For what? Another explanation that sounds exactly like I should understand why I have to stay quiet?"

"That isn’t what this is."

"Then you should have answered faster."

"Roxie, stop."

She walked faster, the gold sandals clicking hard against the pavement. Cold air moved over her shoulders, but her face felt hot. She could hear the music behind them getting duller, the gym lights farther away with every step.

"My dad can get me benched."

Roxie stopped.

The words came out of him like he had thrown them because nothing else could reach her.

She turned slowly.

Zac stood a few steps behind her, breathing hard. The crown was in his hand now, bent slightly where his fingers gripped it too tight. His face looked angry, but there was something exposed under it.

"What?" she asked.

His jaw tightened. "My dad can get me benched."

For one second, Roxie only stared at him.

Then she laughed.

It came out sharp and wrong in the cold air.

Zac’s face changed.

"That’s your reason?" she asked.

His eyes hardened. "You think that’s funny?"

"I think it’s ridiculous."

"It’s my season."

"It’s a dance."

"It’s never just a dance with you."

Roxie’s face went still. "With me."

"You know what I mean."

"I know exactly what you mean." Her voice sharpened. "You mean I come with problems."

Zac stepped closer. "You do."

The words hit fast.

Roxie blinked once.

Zac kept going, angry now. "Steve. Bianca. The suspension. Kendall’s phone. Tonight. Every time I get near you, something blows up."

Roxie’s mouth parted.

Then she smiled, small and cold. "Then stay away from me."

His jaw locked. "That’s what you want?"

"No. I wanted you to stop making me feel like some dirty little problem you have to manage."

"That is not what I’m doing."

"That is exactly what you’re doing."

"I’m trying to keep my future."

"And I’m trying to keep my dignity."

Zac laughed once, sharp. "Your dignity? You spent the whole night dancing with every guy who looked at you."

"Because they could stand near me without acting like I might ruin their life."

"You wanted me jealous."

"Yes," Roxie said. "I wanted you jealous."

His eyes flashed.

"I wanted you to watch," she said. "I wanted you to feel stupid for once. I wanted you to stand there and wonder why someone else got to touch me when you were too scared to."

Zac stepped closer. "You think that makes you better?"

"No. It makes me honest."

"It makes you cruel."

"Fine."

His face went colder. "Then I guess we’re both clear."

Roxie’s throat tightened, but she held his stare.

"You said your dad can bench you," she said. "So what? He tells Coach Hayes to sit you and your whole life ends?"

Zac’s mouth tightened. "He can make it look official. Discipline. Family decision. Anger issue. Whatever he wants. He can sit me long enough for scouts to stop coming. Long enough for coaches to ask if I’m worth the trouble. He can take football from me one clean piece at a time."

Roxie stared at him.

She heard the words.

She heard the fear too.

Then she saw the suit. The crown. The school behind him. The Prescott name. The house she had seen. The kind of family that could walk into Kendall Whitlock’s house and fix problems with calm adult voices.

Her hurt grew teeth.

"So I should feel bad because your father might punish you."

Zac looked at her like she had slapped him.

"That’s what you got from that?"

"What else am I supposed to get?" she asked. "You have the house. The name. The team. The whole school screaming for you. Teachers smile when you walk into rooms. Coaches protect you like you’re school property. Your father can make phone calls and people listen. Then you stand here and tell me you’re trapped because he might bench you."

His face hardened. "You don’t know anything about my house."

"I know what it looks like from outside."

"That’s the problem."

"Then explain it better."

"I just did."

"No, you explained why being seen with me threatens your nice football plan."

Zac’s eyes sharpened. "Football is my way out."

Roxie laughed again, quieter this time.

That one hurt him more. She saw it.

"Out of what?" she asked. "Your mansion?"

His hand tightened around the crown.

"Out of your truck? Out of the perfect family pictures? Out of everyone knowing your name?"

"You have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Maybe. But from where I’m standing, you still have more doors than I do."

"And that makes my life easy?"

"It makes your excuse sound stupid."

His jaw locked.

The air between them changed.

Zac looked at her like something in him had closed.

"You’re really going to stand there and laugh at the only thing I have that can get me away from him."

Roxie’s chest tightened.

Away from him.

The words almost landed.

Almost.

Then she remembered his silence when she asked what they were.

She held the anger in place.

"You’re asking me to accept being hidden because your father scares you."

His eyes went flat.

Roxie kept going because she wanted him to hurt now. She wanted him to feel even a piece of what she felt inside that gym.

"You’re brave when there’s a boy to hit," she said. "You’re brave when you can break a phone. You’re brave when you can chase me into a parking lot and act like it means something. But when it’s your father, suddenly I have to be patient."

"Watch it."

"No." Her voice shook. "Suddenly I have to be smart. Suddenly I have to understand. Suddenly I’m the wrong girl at the wrong time because your daddy might take football away."

His jaw tightened.

"You lost homecoming queen, Kendall danced with me, Janice stood too close, and suddenly you make me your target." He gave a short, ugly laugh. "Right. I’m the bad guy. Roxie Jones can do no wrong."

Roxie stared at him. "You’re a joke."

"No." His voice dropped. "You get hurt, then you look for the place that hurts back. My father. My future. My house. You don’t care what’s true. You care what cuts. You are cruel, Roxie Jones."

Her chest tightened because part of that sounded true.

She hated him more for saying it.

"You don’t get to talk to me about getting hurt," she said.

His mouth twisted. "I got my face split open because of you."

Steve.

For one second, guilt rose fast enough to choke her.

Then the sentence changed inside her.

Because now it sounded like proof.

Like debt.

Like something he could hold over her every time she asked for more.

Roxie’s smile came slowly.

It hurt her face.

"You protected me, so now I should be grateful enough to stay quiet? Should I say yes master Zac?"

Zac stepped back once, laughing without humor. "You are unbelievable."

"And you’re a coward."

His face went cold.

The word sat there.

Roxie knew she had hit him.

She wanted to take satisfaction from it.

Instead, her throat hurt worse.

Zac’s voice dropped. "You want public? Fine. Go back inside and tell everyone. Tell them we kissed. Tell them I wanted you. Tell them I followed you out here. Tell them everything."

Roxie stared at him.

His eyes were hard.

"Go ahead," he said. "If being seen matters that much, make sure everyone sees."

Her stomach turned.

That was ugly.

He knew it too.

He knew she would be the one people laughed at. The girl who thought one hidden kiss made her important. The girl who lost queen and cried over the king.

"What I want is for you to want me enough to stop counting the risk."

"You’re selfish." He stared at her with the same cold anger she felt in herself.

The music thudded through the wall behind him. A car moved somewhere near the curb. Someone laughed near the entrance, then went quiet when they noticed the two of them standing too far apart and too still.

Roxie nodded once.

Slow.

Final.

"Then we’re done making mistakes."

"Fine."

His voice was hard.

Roxie’s throat tightened until it hurt.

"Fine," she said.

She turned.

"Walk away," Zac said behind her. His voice stayed angry. "That’s what you’re good at."

Roxie stopped for half a second.

Her back stayed to him.

"And you can go back inside," she said, forcing the words out through the tightness in her throat. "That’s what you’re good at."

Then she walked.

Her heels struck the pavement too loudly. The emerald dress moved around her legs. Her hand rose to her mouth, pressing there before the sound in her throat could escape.

She refused to cry where he could hear it.

Behind her, Zac stayed where he was.

Roxie kept walking, eyes burning, jaw tight, every step angrier than the last.

Zac Prescott was a coward.

Zac Prescott was an asshole.

And if he wanted his future that badly, he could have it without her.