Page 12 of Heartstruck

Alli

The crisp morning air greets me as I walk across campus to Turner Hall, the science building on campus.

The familiar hustle and bustle of college life swirls around me as students pass by with textbooks tucked under their arms, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafts from University Hall as faculty and students line up for their morning fix, and clusters of people lounge around the pavilion, their casual conversations filling the air.

Despite the busy scene, my thoughts keep drifting back to last night with Jared.

It’s strange how a simple night of puzzles and snacks can take up so much space in my mind.

I feel a smile tug at my lips before I can stop it, fervor sneaking into my chest as I adjust my backpack strap.

It reminds me of family game nights when I was a kid—easy, effortless, and safe.

I reach up to gather my hair, tying it into a loose bun as the cool breeze threads through the strands, and take a deep breath.

The rush of it feels relaxing, though I can’t ignore the way my stomach dips every time I think about Jared’s stupid smile or the way his arm brushed mine when he handed me that last puzzle piece.

I push open the door to the lab, and the quiet hits me like a breath of fresh air.

I get a head start on setting up for today’s assignment since Jared isn’t here yet.

I hang my bag on a nearby hook and slip into my lab coat, letting out a small sigh, relieved for the moment of peace.

My mind’s been running in circles, and for once, I can just focus on the task in front of me with no distractions.

But the image of Jared’s grin and the sound of his laughter keep sneaking into my mind.

It’s not that I’m suddenly developing feelings for him, at least, I don’t think so. But there was something about last night that felt different, almost unsettling in its normalcy. We agreed to fake date in public, but yesterday, when it was just the two of us, it didn’t feel fake at all.

Jared walks in a few minutes later, looking like he just ran a marathon—exhausted but trying to play it cool.

I can’t help but smile. I’m still thinking about how he found that last puzzle piece I couldn’t, that damn smirk still stuck in my head.

He catches me staring and just nods like it’s no big deal, that confident grin sliding back onto his face.

“Morning, Alli,” he says, stifling a yawn. “I’m ready for the day.” There goes another yawn.

“Looks like the day started without you.” I pass him a pencil. “Long night?”

“Early morning practice. I didn’t have time to grab a matcha or anything.”

“You like matcha?” I lift an eyebrow. “I always took you as a Monster person or a cold brew guy.”

“When you work in a boba shop all through high school, you start acquiring new tastes.” He glances at me while scribbling something in his notes. “Are you, like, an official member of the matcha haters club, or just in denial about its greatness?”

“I didn’t take you as a matcha boy.” I scoff. “And also, I don’t hate matcha. I just think it tastes like grass.”

“Grass? Really? That’s so unoriginal.”

“It’s an opinion.”

“Your opinion is invalid. There’s good matcha out there. You just haven’t discovered it. You just need a ceremonial matcha and a whisk, and you’ll fall in love.”

Before I can respond, Ethan walks up to our lab table. My heart jumps with nerves as he greets Jared, then lifts his chin towards me. “Jared. Allison.”

All I manage to get out is a quiet “Hi” because I’m holding my breath while holding a beaker.

Jared must sense my nerves are shot because he takes the reins of the conversation, his tone casual but steady.

“Ethan, what’s up?” he asks, keeping his eyes on me.

“Well,” Ethan scratches the back of his head, “my lab partner dropped the class, and Moua says to find a duo to trio with. Is that cool with you guys?”

“I’m fine with it.” Jared turns to me, which means Ethan is also looking at me.

“It’s cool with me.” I say coolly.

Maybe too cool.

Ethan frowns slightly, tilting his head. “You okay?”

I swallow hard, my throat drier than a desert. “Y-yeah,” I stammer, praying my voice doesn’t crack like I’m twelve again.

He grins from just one corner of his lips.

“Bring a chair over,” Jared says.

“Awesome, thanks. I promise I won’t get in the way.”

Ethan sits down next to us, and I take a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Jared’s presence next to me is surprisingly comforting, his relaxed energy a sharp contrast to my nerves. I manage to get through the rest of the lab without embarrassing myself or spilling coffee on him.

Ethan gives me a half-smile as we clean up. “Nice work, Allison. Maybe losing my partner was a blessing in disguise.”

I offer a safe smile, feeling a bit more confident. “Thanks, Ethan. Glad you’re here.”

Jared nudges me. I roll my eyes and ignore him, but I can’t suppress the growing smile.

“I’ll see you next time.” With that, Ethan salutes us off and walks out of the class. I let out a huge sigh of relief now that I can finally breathe.

“Lab had no reason to be that long,” I mutter, stretching my stiff neck.

“It was only an hour,” Jared says nonchalantly as we head out. “I need coffee.”

Minutes later, we end up at University Hall, where you’ll find all of CCU sheltering in between classes, sneaking in quick breaks, and fueling up for the day.

The place buzzes with energy, the air filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of students chatting or typing away on laptops.

We head for the back of the line at Study Brew, where everyone seems to flock to.

Jared scans the menu, even though I’m pretty sure he’s already decided. “What about you?” he asks, glancing my way.

“Caramel latte,” I say, keeping my answer straightforward. The line creeps forward, leaving us with more time to talk.

“Is that your go-to order?” he asks, raising an eyebrow like he’s about to analyze my drink choice. “Don’t you want to try something different?

“Not really, it’s just the only thing I really like here,” I say with a shrug as we inch closer to the cashier. “What about you?”

“Matcha latte with cold foam on top,” he replies, as if it’s the most obvious choice in the world.

“You weren’t joking earlier.”

“Is that hard to believe?” His lips twitch into a smirk, daring me to say something.

“A little,” I admit. “It’s so… earthy. I assumed you were a straight-up black coffee guy. No frills.”

He chuckles, the sound rich like the coffee he apparently doesn’t drink. “I like to keep you guessing.”

“Guessing or confused?” I quip back, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Is there a difference?” he asks, his smile widening as we step up to the counter.

I roll my eyes but can’t help the smile pulling upwards. “I suppose I should be flattered by your acquired taste in beverages.”

“Or you could just admit you’re surprised I have layers,” he shoots back, not missing a beat. “You know, like an onion.”

“Oh great, now you’re comparing yourself to a vegetable,” I tease as we place our orders.

“An onion’s a compliment, trust me. Versatile, essential, adds flavor to everything.” he looks a little too pleased with himself.

“And makes people cry,” I counter.

He laughs as we step aside to wait for our drinks. “Only if you cut too deep.”

I glance at him, curious. “So, what’s the matcha for, then? Keeping your layers in check?”

“Nah,” he leans casually against the counter. “It’s for energy. Need to keep up my stamina for all the confidence-boosting lessons I’m about to give.”

“Confidence-boosting lessons?” I repeat.

“Yeah,” he affirms, turning serious for a moment. “You’re going to be unstoppable by the time I’m done with you.”

We pick up our drinks and head to a secluded table near the back. The café is busy, but this corner feels a little more private, tucked away from the noise.

“Do we have to start those lessons today?” I probe, taking a sip of my caramel latte.

He leans back in his chair, his blue eyes on me. “We have to start someday, and that day”—he knocks on the table—“is today.”

I gape at him, blinking in disbelief, waiting for him to say sike, but he doesn’t. I raise an eyebrow. “Jared,” I complain, my tone sharp with warning.

“I’m serious,” he says with a smile, then his expression loses some of its edge. “I can tell you’re too hard on yourself.”

I take a beat, thinking it over. “Okay, where do we start?”

“Well, for starters, you can’t choke up when Ethan asks you to hand him a piece of paper.”

I slap my forehead, groaning. “I was nervous!”

He tilts his head, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “I get it, trust me,” he says warmly, yet a playful tone hangs from it. “But come on, you’re really going to let a piece of paper win this battle?”

“He makes me nervous. Approaching guys makes me nervous. I haven’t gone on a date in a year. How embarrassing is that?” I cover my face to hide the tomato shade it turns.

“Hey,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing embarrassing about that. You just need a little practice, that’s all.”

I peek at him through my fingers, my voice muffled. “Practice? Like what, handing out papers?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “No, not handing out papers. Although, I wouldn’t be against a drill or two if you think it’d help.”

I lower my hands, giving him a look. “Very funny.”

He leans forward slightly. “Seriously though, I’m talking about getting comfortable around guys. We can start slow, no pressure.”

“And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”

“For starters, we can work on your confidence around me,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You?” I blink, confusion flashing across my face. “Why you?”

“Well, you’re already comfortable enough to tell me you haven’t been on a date lately,” he points out, his tone gentle but firm. “And we’re friends, so there’s no risk. Plus”—he smirks—“I’m a pretty good catch for a practice run.”