Chapter 318: Chapter 318 - Who Cares?
She pressed the video before she could change her mind.
It started near the end of her performance. The camera shook because whoever recorded it had been screaming with everybody else, and Roxie watched herself move across the floor, land and smile while the gym cheered around her.
Seeing herself like that made her stomach hurt.
She looked so fucking happy.
Then the first photograph fell.
The cheering changed almost immediately. The person recording moved the phone upward for a second before zooming toward the court again, and Roxie watched herself look down. She knew exactly which picture had landed near her before the camera even caught part of it.
Then she watched her own face change.
Roxie felt sick.
She remembered the moment from inside her own body, but seeing it from somebody else’s phone was different. She could see exactly when she recognized Claire, how her smile disappeared and how completely fucking lost she looked while pictures kept falling around her.
Angela sat down beside her and touched her arm. "Rox."
Roxie barely heard her because her eyes had moved to the numbers beneath the video.
She checked the view count again.
Then the shares.
Then the reposts.
Her stomach dropped further every time she touched the screen. There were screen recordings too, and people had already taken screenshots from the video. One of them had frozen Roxie at the exact moment she looked down at Claire.
"This is fucking everywhere."
Karen leaned closer. "Give me the phone."
Roxie pulled it toward her chest.
Her lips trembled as she looked at the screen again. "How can they post this?"
She knew people had recorded what happened. She had seen the phones in the gym. The cheerleaders had been fighting to block them, Kendall had yelled at people and Zac had nearly lost his shit over one guy recording, but somehow Roxie hadn’t really thought about where those videos would go afterward.
Now people outside Briarwick had seen it.
People who had never met her.
People who had never met Claire.
People who had absolutely no idea what they were watching beyond whatever somebody had put in the caption.
Roxie suddenly felt exposed all over again.
Her thumb moved toward the comments.
Karen reached for the phone. "That’s a terrible idea."
"I know."
"Then give it to me."
Roxie pulled away. "No."
She opened the comments anyway.
The first few weren’t what she expected.
Who the hell does this to someone? Damn, kids these days are brutal.
Then:
Isn’t this Briarwick?
Roxie kept scrolling.
Someone said her mom was a prostitute.
Her stomach tightened immediately.
There it was.
The fucking rumor had followed the video too.
Roxie stared at the comment longer than she wanted to before forcing herself downward.
This is actually sick. This is bullying.
That should have helped.
Maybe it did a little.
Then the comments started getting fucking weird.
Who is this?
Roxie frowned.
She scrolled again.
Why is this on my feed? Algorithm have failed me.
Another person had replied asking for Roxie’s account because apparently what they got from the video was that she was pretty.
Roxie stared at it.
"What the fuck?"
Karen leaned over. "What?"
Roxie turned the screen toward her.
Karen read it and shrugged. "People are weird."
"They’re asking for my account."
"Again, people are weird."
Roxie gave her a look and kept scrolling.
Another comment said:
Can someone explain why I’m supposed to care? People are dying!
Roxie almost replied.
Her thumb actually hovered over the comment box before she stopped herself because what the hell was she even supposed to say?
Sorry my public humiliation interrupted your scrolling?
She kept going.
Then another one made heat rush straight into her face.
Main character syndrome because who even cares who her mom is?
"Main character syndrome?"
Angela winced.
Roxie turned toward her. "Seriously?"
"That person’s an asshole."
"They watched somebody throw pictures of my dead mom all over a gym and somehow I have main character syndrome?"
"I know."
"What the fuck does that even mean?"
Roxie shoved the phone toward Karen because if she kept holding it, there was a good chance it was going into the wall.
Angela hesitated before saying, "They’re being rude."
Roxie glared at her. "Wow. Thanks."
"They are. I’m agreeing with you." Angela tucked one leg beneath herself on the couch. "But they’re also kind of proving what Zac said."
Roxie frowned. "How?"
Karen looked down at the phone in her hand. "That person doesn’t know Claire. They don’t know you. No one cares."
Roxie stared at her.
"Harsh."
Karen shrugged. "But true."
Roxie hated those words immediately.
No one cares.
This was her mother they were talking about. Her childhood. Her whole fucking life. Claire had been the thing Roxie spent years hiding because she had always believed that if people found out, everything else would come apart with it.
Now some stranger had watched the worst public humiliation Roxie had ever experienced and complained that it had appeared on their feed.
She should have been furious.
Part of her was.
How could somebody watch that and ask why they were supposed to care?
Then Roxie thought about the person behind the comment for more than a few seconds. They probably watched the video while lying in bed or eating or waiting somewhere. Maybe they read two comments, typed something stupid and kept scrolling.
They didn’t know Claire.
They didn’t know what it was like waiting for a mother who disappeared for days. They didn’t know what it was like growing up never knowing which version of Claire would come home, or what it felt like identifying her body and then worrying about what happened to the ashes because even death cost money.
They didn’t know any of it.
Why would they carry it the way Roxie did?
That thought hurt in a completely different way, because Roxie had spent years imagining people finding out about Claire as some enormous event.
Of course it was enormous to Roxie.
It was her fucking life.
Maybe it wasn’t enormous to everyone else.
Zac came around the couch and crouched beside her. "Give me that."
Karen handed him the phone.
He scrolled for a few seconds before his eyebrows lifted.
"Oh, this one’s good."
Roxie narrowed her eyes. "What?"
He turned the phone toward her.
Who is Roxie Jones? Is she someone I’m supposed to know?
Roxie stared at the comment.
For one stupid second, she actually felt offended.
Then she realized how fucking ridiculous that was.
Why would some random stranger know who she was?
Zac raised his eyebrows. "Apparently your terrifying secret failed to make you internationally famous."
Roxie’s mouth twitched.
Karen leaned over his shoulder. "Move. Let me see."
She took the phone and scrolled, then suddenly started laughing.
Roxie looked at her. "What?"
"Oh, this is better."
Karen turned the screen around.
Who’s that guy running down the bleachers?
Someone had replied underneath:
Zac Prescott.
Then another person had written:
Who?
Roxie slowly turned toward him.
Zac stared at the screen.
"Fuck off."
Karen lost it.
Angela covered her mouth while Roxie tried holding it in, but seeing Zac genuinely offended by some random person having no idea who he was finally broke something inside her.
She laughed.
It came out louder than she expected, and then Karen repeated, "Who?" in the same confused tone as the comment and Roxie laughed harder.
"That person has terrible taste," Zac said. "I got title and everything."
Roxie wiped beneath one eye. "You’re actually offended?"
"Obviously."
"Why?"
"I’m fucking memorable."
Karen looked at him. "Apparently not."
"Fuck you."
Roxie covered her mouth because she was still laughing, and for a few seconds she forgot that she had been crying in the shower earlier.
Her chest still hurt.
Claire’s photographs were still out there.
That video was still spreading.
But somehow Roxie was sitting on her couch laughing because some stranger had no fucking idea who Zac Prescott was.
Angela suddenly leaned forward. "Wait, there’s another video."
Roxie’s laughter faded.
Angela noticed and immediately shook her head. "It’s just your performance."
She turned her phone around.
Roxie hesitated before taking it.
The video started earlier than the other one and ended before the first photograph ever fell. Roxie watched herself move across the floor again, but this time there was no Claire waiting at the end of it. The comments underneath were talking about her tumbling, the landing she had recovered from and how crazy the last pass looked.
Roxie scrolled through them slowly.
Someone wanted the full routine.
Someone asked what school she went to.
Another person was arguing about whether her recovery had been intentional.
Roxie almost wanted to correct them.
She stared at the screen for longer than she realized because the entire thing felt strange. In her head, what happened with Claire had already swallowed the rest of the morning. When she thought about her performance now, she immediately saw the pictures falling afterward, and she had assumed everyone else would remember it the same way.
Apparently they didn’t.
Some people had watched the performance and moved on before the ugly part even happened. To them Roxie was simply some cheerleader doing a crazy tumbling pass.
Karen leaned back against the couch. "See? Give it until Monday. Somebody else will do something stupid and half the school will move on."
Roxie kept scrolling through the comments.
"They’re gonna forget."
"Most of them," Zac said.
Roxie looked at him.
That answer sounded more believable than some bullshit promise that nobody would remember.
People at Briarwick would still talk. Roxie would probably walk into school and catch people staring. Somebody might say something disgusting again, and those videos weren’t going to magically disappear because Roxie hated them.
But this wasn’t going to consume everybody forever.
They had their own shit.
Their own families.
Their own problems.
Their own gossip.
Roxie looked back at Angela’s phone. "I spent years thinking this would ruin everything."
Karen’s expression softened. "Yeah."
Roxie had spent so much time protecting the version of herself people saw at Briarwick and now the secret was out in a way Roxie could never have imagined.
But some random person online still cared more about her fucking tumbling.
"And somebody doesn’t even know who I am."
Zac smiled. "Neither do they know who I am, apparently."
Roxie laughed quietly. "You’re never getting over that."
"No."
Karen handed his phone back to him. "Thoughts and prayers."
"Fuck you."
Roxie looked down at Angela’s phone again.
What happened still felt awful. She still wanted to know who had thrown those pictures, and she still felt violated knowing people could replay the exact moment she recognized Claire whenever they wanted.
But the world hadn’t actually stopped.
Roxie had only felt like it had.
She handed Angela’s phone back.
For a moment nobody said anything.
Then Roxie looked toward the hallway leading to her bedroom.
"I’m going to the dance."
Karen barely reacted. "Obviously."
Roxie frowned. "I literally said I wasn’t going."
"And I ignored you."
"Supportive."
"I try."
Angela looked between them. "You’re serious?"
Roxie nodded, although the thought of going back into Briarwick still made her stomach turn.
People were going to stare. Somebody would probably whisper when she walked past. Maybe someone would even have the video open while Roxie was standing right there.
She fucking hated that. But sitting in this bungalow all night imagining Bianca enjoying herself at Sweetheart while Roxie hid sounded worse.
"If Bianca did this, she’s probably expecting me to stay home."
Karen’s expression hardened. "If Bianca did this, I’m still voting for murder."
Angela sighed. "Can we stop suggesting murder?"
Karen leaned toward Roxie and lowered her voice. "We can hire somebody."
Roxie stared at her.
"A professional."
"Karen."
"Then none of us get caught."
Roxie shoved her shoulder. "You’re fucking insane."
"Never said I wasn’t."
Roxie opened her mouth to insult her again, but the words caught for a second.
She looked at Karen.
Then Angela.
Then Zac.
They were all angry. For her.
That realization had been sitting somewhere in the back of Roxie’s mind since the gym, but now she actually let herself think about it.
Karen and Angela had gotten to her before she even fully understood what was happening. The cheerleaders had surrounded her the second people started taking pictures. Coach Miller had started shutting everything down. Even Kendall had moved in front of Roxie and yelled at anyone who stared too long.
Kendall.
Roxie almost smiled.
She was sure Kendall would claim she had been protecting the team or Nationals or the reputation of Briarwick Cheer because admitting she gave a shit about Roxie would probably kill her.
But she had still been there.
Roxie had spent so much time looking for people judging her that she had nearly missed everyone standing beside her.
Maybe that mattered more.
She couldn’t control what some asshole online thought about Claire. She couldn’t stop every person at Briarwick from believing the rumors, and there was no way she could explain her entire life to everybody until they understood her correctly.
But the people whose opinions actually mattered already knew enough.
Karen knew.
Angela knew.
Zac knew more than almost anybody, and he was currently living in her bungalow, cooking for her and looking like he would happily chase somebody through Briarwick again if Roxie let him.
They were still here.
Roxie looked toward her bedroom again.
Her dress was in there.
She had bought it because she wanted to go to Sweetheart. Before somebody dumped pictures of Claire into the gym, Roxie had been excited about tonight.
She still wanted that.
Maybe she would feel awful when she walked inside.
Maybe she would want to turn around.
But she wanted to go.
"What time were we supposed to start getting ready?"
Karen’s mouth curved immediately.
Angela straightened. "Wait. You’re really going?"
"I just said I am."
Karen stood. "Thank fuck."
Roxie pointed at her. "Calm down."
"No."
"I might throw up when we get there."
"Then stay away from the dress when you do."
Roxie stared at her.
Karen shrugged. "That thing was expensive."
Angela laughed and stood too. "I’ll get the makeup."
Roxie watched them start moving around the bungalow as if they had been waiting for her to say it.
Her stomach was still tight.
She was still scared.
And tomorrow could still fucking suck.
But Roxie had spent years believing the worst thing that could happen was everybody finding out.
They had.
She was still here.
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