Page 1 of Heartstruck

Alli

If there’s ever a bad time to spill coffee on your hallway crush, it’s probably during the biggest moment of your life or when you’re having the worst morning ever.

I, Allison Castillo, just tackled Ethan Díaz walking into Microbiology.

Ethan freezes mid-step, his face a gorgeous blend of surprise and mild horror as my caramel latte stains his pearly white shirt.

I stand there, completely mortified, probably looking like a live version of The Scream, gripping the empty cup like it’s my lifeline in what’s the most embarrassing moment of the year.

“I am so sorry,” I blurt out, already fumbling for napkins in my bag. “I didn’t see you there, and—”

“You’re good,” Ethan says, his grin downright smug, even with coffee dripping down his shirt. “I guess it’s not every day someone tackles me with coffee.”

I shove a wad of napkins at him, avoiding the mess I just caused. “I’ll… buy you a new one?”

Ethan chuckles, blotting at his shirt with the napkins. “Sure, but maybe next time, aim for the floor.”

“Ha,” I laugh dryly, trying to brush off the awkwardness. “Yeah, for s-sure.”

Ethan walks into the lab, still blotting at his shirt, while I wonder if Professor Moua would even notice if I skipped today.

“Allison,” Professor Moua says as she swipes next to me to enter the lab, “care to join us, or will you continue standing there like a mannequin?”

That answers my question.

“Yes, sorry, I was just having a moment.”

“Don’t we all?”

I react with a nervous laugh and quickly follow her inside. I beeline for my seat, where I nod to my only friend in this class, Olivia Kim. She slides my green folder over towards me. “Hey, thanks again for letting me borrow your Anatomy notes.”

I grab the folder and toss it into my bag. “Anytime.”

Olivia leans closer, her lips twitching like she’s holding back a laugh, while Professor Moua drones on and on about microbial genetics. “So,” she whispers, “did it hurt when your beloved latte sacrificed itself to Ethan’s perfect shirt?”

I glance down at the empty cup in front of me, the caramel scent still clinging faintly to the rim. A small sigh slips out as I picture the puddle of my once perfect latte on the floor… and on him.

“Awesome start to the day,” I mutter, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “And I really needed that caffeine.”

“You’ll survive,” she says with a laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners. I can’t help but laugh with her.

I hear guilty giggles and look up to find Ethan’s friends making jokes about his girly scent for the day. Dear Earth, just swallow me now.

Ethan Díaz is single-handedly the hottest sophomore at Carolina Coast University. Ever since I laid eyes on him at freshman orientation and learned we were both Biology majors, I’ve been obsessed.

Okay, never mind. That sounds creepier than I meant.

I barely saw him my freshman year. And when I did, he was always with his friend group.

They always looked like they were having the time of their lives—laughing at everything, moving like one solid posse that’s impossible to break through.

It’s not like they were mean or anything; I just didn’t know how to step into that kind of energy without feeling like I’d throw things off… or make a complete fool of myself.

How can you expect a girl to casually walk up to a hot guy and, I don’t know, talk to him with the intention of wanting to get to know him better?

You fucking can’t, apparently.

Well, maybe others can. Surely not me, not anymore at least.

“So,” Olivia says, bringing my attention back to her, “there’s this party happening tonight at Omega Kappa. Come with me?”

I hesitate, that familiar wave of uncertainty hitting me at the thought of going out. My muscles tense, a prickling heat climbing the back of my neck as a shy sweat breaks out on my forehead. I clench my fingers into fists to keep them from fidgeting.

I consider going out for a second, but then doubt shows up front and center.

Who am I kidding? I barely recognize myself these days.

Back at Skyline High School, I was confident and knew my way around pretty well. I kept my head held high, exchanged smiles with what felt like half the school, and every challenge was just another box to check off. I knew exactly who I was.

At Carolina Coast University, I feel like a stranger in my own skin. A fish out of water, stumbling through unfamiliar faces and crowded pavilions. The confidence I once had vanished somewhere between high school graduation and move-in day.

I’d talked to my mom about it a couple of times, hoping she’d have some kind of treasure map to guide me back to feeling normal or at least remotely like myself again. She’d listened patiently and assured me it would get better eventually.

Vas a encontrar tu camino, hija, solo dale tiempo .

Algún día, todo esto quedará atrás, lo verás .

El tiempo lo cura todo, hija, créeme .

Maybe she’s right. But honestly, it sure as hell hasn’t felt like it.

I’m struggling with the adjustment to being four or even five hours away from home.

Growing up, I was always surrounded by family.

There was never a day when my house wasn’t filled with so much excitement and liveliness.

We always had Sunday dinners after church; my tías would come over to help my mom make tamales for the next birthday party, or my cousins and I would walk to the nearest frutería for horchatas .

Leaving my close-knit family behind in Skyline was harder than I planned for.

Moving to Carolina Coast for a full-ride scholarship seemed like the right choice at the time, but I never realized how much I would miss them.

Moments like this make me question all my life choices—especially the one where I moved a thousand miles away with zero familiarity in sight. Well, except Olivia. Thank God for her, or I’d probably have lost my mind by now.

“Alli? Will you come with me?” Olivia insists.

I hesitate; my fingers strangle the straps of my bag. It’s easy to say no. Hell, it’d be the most comfortable choice. Stay home where it’s safe, and I don’t have to risk anyone seeing how awkward I really am.

But then there’s this little part of me, buried under layers of self-doubt, that whispers, Why not? Go have fun!

The thought clings to me, and for a moment, I think maybe this time I will go. Maybe this time I’ll stop playing it safe.