Chapter 317 - Everybody Knows

Chapter 317: Chapter 317 - Everybody Knows

Everybody knew.

That was the only thing Roxie could think about while teachers moved through the gym telling students to hand over the photographs and the cheerleaders picked them off the floor.

Student Council was trying to move people away from the court, Coach Miller was talking to someone near the scorer’s table, and Karen and Angela were still close enough that Roxie could feel them touching her, but none of it stopped her from hearing the whispers.

Every time somebody leaned toward a friend, Roxie looked.

Every time someone picked up one of Claire’s pictures and stared at it before handing it over, her stomach tightened because she wondered what they were thinking. Maybe they were looking at Claire and seeing exactly what the rumors had already turned her into. A junkie. A prostitute.

Some dead woman from a motel who had apparently become interesting enough for people to print hundreds of pictures of her and throw them over a fucking gym.

Her mother.

Karen squeezed Roxie’s arm. "Rox."

Roxie swallowed and kept looking toward the bleachers. "Everybody knows."

Karen’s expression hardened immediately. "Whoever did this is fucking dead."

Angela rubbed her back. "We’re gonna figure out who did it."

Roxie shook her head because that wasn’t what she meant. Whoever had thrown the pictures mattered, and she wanted to know who the fuck had spent enough time doing this to print them, write on them and wait until after her performance, but that wasn’t what was making it hard to breathe right now.

"That’s not what I mean."

A boy several rows up handed one of the pictures to a teacher while the girl beside him leaned toward her friend and whispered something. Roxie couldn’t hear her, but that almost made it worse because her brain immediately filled in the words for her.

"She knows now. Everybody does."

For years, Roxie had been scared of exactly this.

It wasn’t really about people finding out she was poor anymore. She could survive somebody knowing she lived in a small bungalow or that she worked because she needed money. Claire was different because once people knew about her, Roxie always thought they would go backward through everything she had ever said and start figuring out how much she had lied.

How fake she was.

God, she didn’t even know why she wanted this part of her hidden anymore. Was it about her image? Her pride? Her dumb love for her mother? Why does she even care?

But even now, she felt numb. Which she didn’t expect? She thought when the truth comes out, she was going to have panic attack, maybe some tears, but right now, she’s just not feeling anything.

Zac moved closer. "Yeah. A lot of them know."

Karen looked at him like she wanted to hit him.

Roxie almost did too. "Thanks."

"But you’re looking at everybody like they’re all thinking the exact same thing."

Roxie turned toward him. "What does that even mean?"

"Look around."

"I am."

"No. You’re looking for people judging you."

Her jaw tightened.

That pissed her off mostly because he was right.

Roxie looked around again, this time forcing herself to pay attention past the people staring at her. Two students near the front were arguing about who had been upstairs. A basketball player was crouched beneath the bleachers helping one of the teachers collect pictures.

Three girls had one of Claire’s photographs between them, but the girl holding it looked disgusted by whatever somebody had written across the bottom and immediately folded it over before handing it to a teacher.

There were still people staring. Roxie saw them easily because apparently her brain could find those people before anything else. A couple kept whispering while glancing in her direction, and one guy near the aisle had already been told twice to put his phone away.

Then somebody near the entrance asked whether the food booths were still open.

Roxie frowned.

How the fuck was somebody thinking about food right now?

Zac nodded toward the bleachers. "Half the room is trying to figure out who threw the pictures. Some are helping clean them up. Some are staring because people stare when fucked up shit happens. There are probably assholes here who believe every rumor they heard too. I’m not gonna lie about that."

Roxie looked away.

"But they’re not all sitting there thinking about your mom the way you are."

Her eyes went back to him immediately. "It’s easy for them. They get to pick up a picture, look at it, talk about it and then move on."

"Yeah."

Roxie stared. "Yeah?"

"It is."

"That’s supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little."

Her mouth almost twitched.

Fucking idiot.

Karen folded her arms. "He’s right. Half these people will move on as soon as somebody gets caught cheating, punches somebody in the parking lot or has some dramatic breakup."

Angela looked at her. "Karen."

"What? Briarwick changes gossip every five fucking minutes."

A laugh slipped out of Roxie before she could stop it. It was tiny and felt weird coming out of her after everything that had just happened, but Karen looked satisfied anyway.

Angela squeezed her arm. "Claire means more to you than she ever could to any of them. That’s why every whisper feels soooo huge."

Roxie looked down at the photographs still scattered near her feet.

That didn’t exactly make her feel better.

Claire was still her mother. Somebody else could look at one ugly picture of her, whisper about it for thirty seconds and then go buy a cupcake. Roxie had spent eighteen years dealing with everything that came with Claire.

Ofcourse it felt bigger to Roxie.

It had been her whole fucking life.

Before she could sink any deeper into that thought, a younger girl started walking toward them.

Roxie’s stomach tightened immediately.

Karen shifted closer.

The girl noticed and stopped. "Sorry."

Roxie braced herself anyway. She was already expecting another question about Claire, whether the rumors were true or whether Roxie had known what her mother was doing.

Instead, the girl pointed awkwardly toward the middle of the court. "I just wanted to say your performance was really good. That last tumbling pass was crazy. I don’t know what it was called, but everybody around me freaked out."

Roxie blinked.

For several seconds she had no idea what to say because she had already prepared herself for something completely different.

"Thanks."

The girl smiled. "Good luck at Nationals."

Then she walked away.

Roxie watched her disappear back into the crowd.

That was it.

She had walked over because of Roxie’s performance.

Karen and Angela said nothing, and Roxie was glad because she already knew what they were thinking.

Coach Miller came over several minutes later after talking with Student Council and some of the teachers. His face was still tight with anger, but his voice changed when he spoke to Roxie.

"We’re ending this part of Sweetheart early."

Roxie’s head snapped up. "Coach."

"We already reached the ticket goal, the booths did well, and administration needs the building cleared enough to figure out who had access upstairs."

"What about Nationals?"

"We’re fine."

"You’re sure?"

"We’re fine, Jones."

Relief hit her harder than she expected, and Roxie finally felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

Nationals mattered.

Coach Miller looked toward Zac. "Administration is pulling whatever camera footage they can get and checking who had access to the second floor, which means nobody else is going hunting."

Roxie looked at Zac.

He didn’t answer, but his jaw was tight enough that she knew Coach had said that specifically for him.

Coach held his gaze for another second before looking at Roxie again. "Go home. Get out of here for a while."

Karen squeezed her arm. "Come on."

Roxie let them start moving her toward the exit because she had no idea what else she was supposed to do. Her legs worked, so apparently she could walk out and deal with everything else later.

Then Zac came closer.

Before Roxie fully understood what he was doing, his arms went around her and he lifted her completely off the floor.

Her eyes widened. "Zac, put me down."

Instead, he adjusted his hold.

"Goddamn, Zac," Kendall snapped. "Why are you making another scene? She can fucking walk."

Karen rolled her eyes. "Jealousy is not a pretty color on you."

Kendall stared at her. "I’m trying to save her from looking like she’s being carried out of a fucking war zone."

Angela glanced around at all the people already watching them. "Honestly, maybe this is better."

Kendall frowned. "How?"

"Let them talk about this instead."

Karen immediately looked at Kendall. "Post one of your scandals."

"Fuck off."

Roxie laughed.

She actually fucking laughed.

It only lasted a second, but something in her chest loosened enough that she stopped telling Zac to put her down.

He started carrying her toward the exit, and Roxie buried her face against his neck once they passed the first rows of bleachers.

"Zac."

"What?"

"Everyone’s looking."

She felt him turn his head slightly, probably checking for himself.

"Yeah."

That was all he said.

Roxie closed her eyes.

This was supposed to happen tomorrow. They were supposed to get through Sweetheart, finish the stupid arrangement with Noah and finally stop hiding afterward. Instead, Zac Prescott was carrying her through the gym in front of half of Briarwick while she had both arms around his neck.

People were absolutely going to talk about this too.

Somebody probably already had a picture.

For once, Roxie couldn’t make herself care enough to pull away.

She tightened her arms around him and kept her face against his neck.

Let them fucking look.

The shower should have made Roxie feel better, but it didn’t.

She scrubbed until her skin felt hot, washed her hair and stayed beneath the water longer than she needed to, but Claire’s face kept appearing whenever she closed her eyes. The worst one was still the photograph Zac had shown them after he came back from upstairs.

SLUT’S DAUGHTER.

Whoever wrote it hadn’t even needed a picture of Roxie because Claire’s face was enough. The insult had always been aimed at her daughter.

By the time Roxie came out of the bathroom, her damp hair hung around her shoulders and she had changed into shorts and one of Zac’s shirts. The bungalow smelled like food, and Roxie stopped in the hallway for a second because the normality of the scene felt strange after what had happened.

A few hours ago, hundreds of people had watched pictures of her mother fall from the second floor of a gym.

Now Zac was cooking.

Karen sat on Roxie’s couch scrolling through her phone while Angela answered another message from Caleb because apparently he had already asked several versions of whether Roxie was okay.

Life had kept going.

Roxie wasn’t sure whether that annoyed her or helped.

Zac looked toward her.

Karen caught him immediately. "Focus on the food."

"I am."

"You almost stopped stirring."

Roxie rolled her eyes and dropped onto the couch. "Can everybody leave me alone for five minutes?"

Karen smiled. "No."

Honestly, Roxie should have known better than to ask.

For a little while nobody mentioned Claire. Zac kept cooking while Angela finally sat down, and Karen complained about administration taking forever to send any kind of update. Roxie listened without really joining in, but even that felt better than sitting alone and thinking about the gym.

Then Karen’s phone lit up.

She looked at it.

Her face changed.

She turned the phone over.

Roxie saw everything.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Karen."

"It’s stupid."

"Show me."

"No."

Roxie held out her hand. "Show me."

"Roxie."

The way Karen glanced toward Zac made Roxie’s stomach drop before she even saw the screen.

"Give me the fucking phone."

Karen sighed and handed it over.

Roxie looked down.

Her own face was frozen on the thumbnail of a video.

"Oh my God."