Ezekiel's POV
The afternoon heat pressed down on Allen's Field like a furnace, turning the artificial turf into something that could fry an egg. Sweat pooled beneath my shoulder pads, trickling down my back as we reset for another play.
This field used to be my sanctuary. The one place where chaos transformed into order, where every movement had purpose, where the roar of the crowd drowned out everything else that didn't matter.
Today felt different.
My mind kept drifting to lunch, to the cafeteria, to the moment Kane's cruel words hit Ximena like a slap across the face. The memory of her expression crumbling made my chest tighten with rage all over again.
And then there was the way she'd stared at me afterward. Confused. Uncertain. Like she couldn't figure out why I'd stepped in.
Neither could I, if I was being honest.
