The Boy Who Burned Me

EPISODE 12: Thrown Off

POV: Aiden Hart

Wednesday wasn’t better.

Practice sucked. I couldn’t focus. Every pass felt a second late. Every play I called sounded wrong in my ears.

Coach kept yelling, but it was like my body was moving separately from my head.

I kept seeing him.

In flashes. Outside the class windows. In the hall near the vending machines.

That hoodie. That stare.

He used to be invisible. Kieran Monroe, the quiet kid from freshman year.

Ghosted through the halls like he didn’t exist.

Now he felt like gravity.

And it was screwing with me.

After school, I walked into the locker room early, hoping for some quiet.

No luck.

Kieran was already there.

Alone.

In the back lockers.

Shirtless.

His head tilted up slightly as I entered, like he already knew it was me.

Our eyes locked in the mirror for a second too long.

I looked away at first.

Fumbled with my bag.

Mumbled something about needing tape.

Left without getting it.

Didn’t tell anyone.

Friday Night Lights. Game Day.

Everything felt tight: my jersey, the air, my chest.

The stadium buzzed with life.

Lights grew down like we were gods on a stage.

Mayor Hart is in the front row.

Maddie was waving from the cheerline.

Tyler slapping my helmet, shouting something about crushing it tonight.

The first quarter started smoothly.

I was in the zone.

First drive clean, touchdown pass.

The crowd went wild.

Then… I looked up.

And there he was.

Kieran. Front row bleachers.

Black hoodie. Hands folded.

Face calm.

Staring straight at me.

The moment our eyes met, something short-circuited.

I stumbled.

Threw wide.

Almost got picked.

Second quarter? Worse.

I kept catching glimpses of him between plays.

Standing up now. Arms crossed. Still watching.

I could hear Coach screaming from the sidelines.

“Get your head in the game, Hart!”

But it was already gone.

By the final whistle, we’d lost.

The other team danced across the field.

Our crowd stood in stunned silence.

Mayor Hart’s arms stood folded as he walked away.

Tyler muttered beside me, “Dude… what the hell happened out there?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t know.

The locker room was dead quiet.

I sat there, breathing hard. Helmet still on.

And then I snapped.

I stood and punched the nearest locker. Hard.

Metal clanged. My knuckles burned.

Tyler winced. “Whoa. Chill, man.”

“Just leave it.”

He held his hands up.

Not joking anymore.

I sat again, head in my hands.

What is his deal?

Or is it mine?

Outside, the stadium was clearing out.

I walked alone, helmet tucked under my arm.

The weight of the loss dragged behind me like chains.

And then, of course, there he was.

Kieran.

Leaning against his bike just outside the gate.

Arms folded. Helmet on the seat beside him.

That same damn smirk.

Like he knew exactly what would happen.

Like he planned it.

I didn’t stop walking.

But my heart didn’t stop pounding either.