Chapter 20: Roxie

I glared at him, reaching up to frantically fix my hair. "I don't want this to be complicated."

"It’s not complicated at all," he countered, stepping closer. "We like each other. We clearly have a problem staying away from each other. Why does it have to be a federal case?"

"Because this is East Shore!" I hissed, turning to face him. I gestured vaguely toward the door, toward the hallways where my reputation was currently held together by sheer willpower.

"So?"

"You don't understand. If I show up tomorrow holding hands with the 'goth new guy' who drives a white van and plays in a band called Rising Moon, my life as I know it ends."

"We're seniors; it won't matter forever."

"All of my friends would have a literal heart attack. My parents would use it as another thing to scream about. I can't be that girl, Ricky. I just can't."

Ricky’s expression shifted, the smugness fading into something harder, something more guarded. "So that’s it? We have a great time in the dark, but in the light, I’m still just the loser you’re embarrassed to be seen with?"

The look in his eyes—it wasn't anger, it was a quiet, jagged kind of hurt—made my chest ache. I didn't want to hurt him. That was the problem. I wanted him, but I wanted my life, too. I’m a coward. I’m a total, high-ranking coward.

"No," I said, my voice softer now. I stepped into his space, reaching out to rest my hands on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart through his vest. "That’s not it."

"Then what is it?"

"Look, I don't want to stop this. I can't stop this. But I need it to be ours.

"Just ours?"

I nodded and offered a small smile.

Ricky looked down at my hands, then back up at my eyes. "You're talking about a secret."

"I'm talking about a secret relationship," I clarified, the words feeling heavy and dangerous on my tongue. "In the hallways, we’re exactly what we’ve been. I’ll roll my eyes at you, you’ll make a sarcastic comment, and we’ll keep the peace. But the second we’re away from East Shore... it's different."

"How will it be different?"

"We meet at the car wash, or that park by the edge of town, or even here in the auditorium when it's empty. No one knows. No one judges. No one can ruin it."

I waited for him to laugh. I waited for him to tell me I was being ridiculous and that he deserved better than to be hidden away like a shameful secret. And he does. He really does.

Instead, Ricky reached up, his thumb brushing against my jawline, tracing the skin I’d just scrubbed red. He looked at me for a long, silent minute, weighing the cost of being with me against the cost of being hidden.

"You really care that much about what Fran and those jocks think?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"It’s not just them, Ricky," I said, my voice trembling. "It’s everything. My life is a house of cards. If I pull out one wrong piece, the whole thing collapses, and I have Olivia to think about. I need to stay 'Roxie' for her. I need to keep the world looking normal, even if it’s a lie."

Ricky let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning his forehead against mine. I could feel him giving in, and a part of me felt relieved while another part felt absolutely sick that I was asking this of him.

"I couldn't even if I tried," I promised, reaching up to pull him back down for another kiss. "You’re way too loud to ignore, Henderson."

When he kissed me this time, it felt like a pact. A dangerous, beautiful, messy pact. I know I’m playing with fire. I know that if this gets out, I’ll lose everything I’ve worked for. But as Ricky’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me into the shadows of the stage, I realized I didn't care. For the first time in my life, I wasn't doing what was best for my reputation or my parents or my "brand."

This is going to be the most exhausting senior year in history. And I wouldn't change it for anything. I was doing something for me.