The Boy Who Burned Me

POV: Aiden Hart Being perfect isn’t hard when everyone’s watching. It’s when I’m alone that it starts to c***k. The sun crested over Kingswood like a spotlight, golden beams slipping through the mist that always clung to the woods in the early morning. It was game day, the first of my senior year, and the sky looked like it knew it. I grinned as I pulled up to Kingswood High in my cherry-red Dodge Charger, the kind of car that got nods from teachers and envy from first-year students. Dad gave it to me when I was named team captain last spring. Said I earned it. Every time I saw it gleam under the morning sun, I felt like I had. The school loomed ahead, its brick walls soaked in decades of sweat, secrets, and small-town tradition. The kind of place where the hallways hadn’t changed in fifty years and probably never would. My name was already painted on the big “GO WOLVES!” banner stretching over the front entrance, right below the words: Homecoming Countdown: 14 Days. Tyler leaned against the flagpole, sunglasses on like we weren’t already late. As I parked, he gave me a mock salute, his grin wide enough to split his face. “Captain Hart, riding in style.” “Had to make an entrance,” I said, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. “Senior year, man. It’s happening.” He walked beside me, bumping my shoulder with his. “Think they’ll finally let me lead the student section this year?” “Only if you promise not to join the other team again.” “No promises,” he smirked. Inside, the halls buzzed with first-day energy. New haircuts. Tighter skirts. Louder laughs. The cheer squad was already in formation by the lockers, Madison front and center with her perfect blonde curls and that hundred-watt smile she turned on like a switch. “Morning, babe,” she said, planting a kiss on my lips. Her lipstick tasted like cherries. “Your jersey’s a little crooked.” I laughed and let her fix it, even though it wasn’t. That was Madison, always camera-ready, always making sure I was too. We were the couple everyone expected. Her mom and mine practically planned our wedding before we could drive. But hey, she was sweet. And beautiful. And she looked great beside me in every photo. “Tonight’s going to be insane,” she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked. “You ready to win this thing?” “Been ready since July,” I grinned. “Coach says scouts from State might be watching.” “You’ll kill it,” she said, as it was obvious. “You’re Aiden Hart.”