The Boy Who Burned Me

EPISODE 6: The Note and the Name

POV: Aiden Hart

Jessie’s Joint was our usual refuge after practice. The neon sign buzzed overhead as Tyler slid into the booth, already mocking and scolding me.

“You look like hell.” He set a loaded fry on my plate. “But Prince Charming doesn’t get tired, right?”

I forced a grin. “All good.”

He leaned in, voice dropping. “So tell me why you’re not freaking out about that note.”

I froze.

He meant the anonymous slip I’d found last night:

TONIGHT. 11 PM. OLD QUARRY. YOUR FUTURE DEPENDS ON IT.”

Tyler’s grin widened. “Come on, admit it. You want to go. Stake out the Old Quarry, see this bad boy for yourself.”

I scooped up a fry. “I’ve got float sketches to finish, a speech to write, practice tomorrow, and how do you know it’s the bad boy…”

He shook his head, picking at his fries. “You’re never busy. But this could be interesting. Maybe he’s coming for the top dog, claiming his territory like they do in prison.”

Taylor rolled her eyes from her seat across the table. “You two are insane.”

I laughed, but my pulse quickened at the thought.

By the time I got home, the Hart estate was quiet. Dad’s study light burned late. I found him there, rearranging campaign flyers under a green-shaded lamp. Mom hovered in the doorway, her expression soft but strained.

“How’s the speech coming?” she asked, stepping into the warm glow.

“Good,” I said, sliding my notes onto the desk. Dad glanced up, smiled briefly, controlled, and proud.

“Make it sharp,” he said, folding a flyer. “The town expects excellence.”

Mom brushed my shoulder. “Don’t let him push you too hard,” she whispered, as if I couldn’t hear her voice over Dad’s footsteps retreating down the hall.

I caught her eye and nodded. I wanted to tell her I was fine, that so long as I nailed that speech and led the float, so long as I won that game on Friday, Dad would see me as more than his second son. I would be the golden boy, the future he’d been waiting for.

But as I locked myself in the study and stared at that scrap of paper, Old Quarry, 11 PM. My world shifted.

Tomorrow’s pep rally, the scouts in the stands, the cheers under Friday night lights… they all suddenly felt like whispers behind a darker, more dangerous chapter.

And I couldn’t decide if I was ready to turn the page.