Page 19 of Heartstruck

Jared

The fluorescent lights above buzz faintly, the sound grating enough to set my teeth on edge. Beakers clink, pens scrape, and someone in the corner clears their throat for the fiftieth time—it’s all white noise at this point. Typical Monday afternoon. A drag.

Except, my brain’s gone rogue.

I stare at the equation in front of me, but the numbers blur into a mess of lines and curves.

Because I’m not thinking about chemistry.

I’m thinking about Alli. About the way she looked at me the other night, her lips parting like she was just as breathless as I was.

About how close we came to crossing a line I’m not sure I want to uncross.

Hell, who am I kidding? I want to. I’ve been wanting to since the second she stepped into my orbit.

We haven’t talked about what happened. We’ve been avoiding the subject since I drove back to campus, sticking to safe topics and pretending like nothing’s changed, but I feel the shift.

It’s like there’s this bubble of silent confessions between us, and every time she goes quiet, I’m bracing myself for her to bring it up.

I steal a glance at her, sitting beside me, completely absorbed in whatever she’s looking at under the microscope.

God, she’s gorgeous. Not just average gorgeous, she’s the kind of gorgeous that sneaks up on you and punches you in the gut.

And right now, I’m the idiot who got hit and can’t catch his breath.

“Jared, you’re not even listening,” she says, not glancing up from her work.

I jerk upright, my thoughts scattering like shards of glass. “Huh?” My voice comes out rough, like I haven’t used it in hours.

Finally, she lifts her head, one eyebrow arched with surgical precision. “I said, can you pass me the pipette? Or is zoning out your new approach to acing lab sessions?”

“Oh, right. My bad.” I snatch the pipette and hand it over, doing my best to ignore the faint, fleeting brush of her fingers against mine. But damn it, a stupid spark shoots straight up my arm like a live wire.

“Thanks.” There’s the tiniest curve to her lips, just enough to drive me insane. She knows exactly what she’s doing. And then she turns to Ethan.

“Ethan, could you get eye level and write down the measurements?” Her voice is all business, completely unaware of the daggers I’m currently glaring at him.

“Yeah, I got you,” he replies, overly eager as he slips around the counter, positioning himself way too close.

I clench my jaw watching him lean in like it’s his God-given right, his shoulder practically brushing hers.

He’s doing the whole casual, I’m-so-chill thing, but it’s obvious what he’s aiming for.

Meanwhile, Alli doesn’t even notice.

I want to punch something.

Preferably him.

I, for a change, notice everything. Like how Ethan leans in even closer, so close I can practically smell his drugstore cologne—a disaster of cheap deodorant and wannabe ocean breeze, with a top note of “I just rolled out of a greasy shampoo commercial.” And his hair?

Slicked back so tight it’s unnatural. Does the guy not know how to lay off the hair gel?

I will never understand how Alli doesn’t see it. Ethan’s obsession with her is practically flashing with big red arrows. I clocked it the first day of class, when his face lit up brighter than the lab equipment at the news of being our lab partner. The guy looked like he’d just hit the jackpot.

Alli, though? She just flashed her usual polite smile—the one she gives to literally everyone—and went straight to work; she’s too busy squinting into the microscope, her focus laser-sharp, oblivious to the human barnacle trying to fuse himself to her side.

I still remember the way he practically vibrated with excitement that day she wore a sundress. The guy looked like he was debating whether to propose or faint.

And here we are, months later, and nothing’s changed. Ethan’s still desperate, and Alli’s still Alli: polite, focused, and so far out of his league it’s not even funny.

Except it is. Because Ethan actually thinks he’s got a chance.

He whispers something in her ear, too close to my liking, and whatever humor I felt evaporates in an instant. My jaw tightens as I grip my pen like it’s the only thing keeping me from snapping. The plastic digs into my palm, a sharp reminder of the restraint I’m clinging to.

If this guy thinks he can just slide in and—

“Jared?” Alli’s voice snaps me back to the present. “You’re writing down the wrong numbers.”

I blink, realizing I’ve been scribbling random digits instead of actual data. “Right. Sorry.” I quickly scratch out the mistakes, ignoring the smug glances Ethan keeps tossing my way.

Alli sighs. “It’s fine. Just, you know, focus.”

Focus. Right. I can do that. As long as Ethan keeps his distance. I shoot him a warning look, silent but clear: stay the hell away.

He smirks, like he thinks this is some sort of game.

Fine. If he wants to play, I’ll play. But he’s definitely not going to like how this ends.

We wrap up the assignment early and start cleaning up.

“Hey, Alli, want to grab coffee after this? We could go over the notes for the next lab, make sure we’re both on the same page.” Ethan’s practically purring the words, and I grit my teeth so hard I might crack a molar.

Alli glances up, looking surprised. “Oh, um, maybe another time? I have to go home after class.”

Ethan shrugs, that damn easy grin never leaving his face. “No problem. Just thought I’d ask.” He looks over at me, eyebrows raised, like he’s challenging me. “How about you, Jared? You up for a coffee?”

I roll my eyes, irritation flaring. “Thanks, but I’ve got plans.”

Ethan just grins, completely unbothered by my snap. “All right, suit yourself.”

He turns his attention back to Alli, his hand casually resting on the edge of the table, dangerously close to hers. “Offer’s always open, Alli.”

She barely looks up from her notes, offering a polite smile. “Thanks, Ethan. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He leaves, his footsteps sounding out of the classroom, leaving an almost awkward silence hanging between us. I exhale, trying to shake off the irritation that still lingers from his earlier antics. Alli’s gathering her things, her expression neutral, like the whole exchange didn’t even faze her.

And I ground myself. It’s not like Alli and I are anything more than… whatever this is. Lab partners. Friends. Fake girlfriend. Something in between.

“Was he flirting, or was I dreaming? Slap me if it’s a dream.”

Alli’s question catches me unprepared. I glance over at her, trying to read her expression, but she’s still facing her backpack, shoving a notebook inside like the answer to her question doesn’t really matter.

“Are you serious?” I ask, incredulous. “Alli, the guy was practically drooling.”

She rolls her eyes and finally looks up at me. “He was not.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through my hair as we walk side by side out of class. “Ethan’s not exactly subtle. The signs were all there.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. “Right. Because asking someone for coffee to ‘make sure you’re on the same page’ is totally normal lab partner talk.”

She shrugs, a sneaky smile playing on her lips. “Maybe he just really likes coffee. Or he takes his lab work seriously.”

“Or maybe he’s into you,” I say, a little sharper than I intend. I didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it comes out that way anyway.

Alli looks up at me, and there’s amusement, maybe also curiosity, in her eyes. “You’re acting kind of hot and bothered.”

Because I like you, I think, but the words stay lodged in my throat. Instead, I shrug, trying to play it cool. “Just looking out for you. That’s all.”

She angles her head, studying me. “I can take care of myself, Jared.”

“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t mean I can’t watch out for you, too.”

Alli gives me a small smile, helping the tension from earlier dissipate. We continue walking throughout campus, the conversation flowing easily again as we end up heading towards University Hall.

“Thought you had plans?” I ask, glancing over at her.

Alli shrugs, hands sliding into her pockets. “I do, but I need some fuel before I turn into Bob the Builder.”

I pause, a puzzled look crossing my face. “Wait, what?”

She smirks, her eyes sparkling. “I’m building my desk later,” she explains, raising her brows for emphasis. “I need all the energy I can get.”

I laugh, shaking my head as we fall into step. “You’re building a desk? That, I’ve got to see.”

She bumps my shoulder lightly with hers. “Hey, I’m more than just a pretty face. I’m very handy, thank you.”

“Right. I’m sure your construction skills are top-notch. You definitely don’t seem like the kind of girl who’d end up with extra screws and a wobbly desk.”

She clutches her chest dramatically. “You wound me. I’ll have you know, I have a foolproof plan. There’s a YouTube video and everything.”

I smirk, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and I can see that familiar red tint on her cheeks. Jared - 1, Ethan - 0. “Well, I’m rooting for you then.”

She holds my gaze steadily, making me clear my throat. “I appreciate the support, Collins.”

I pull open the door to University Hall, holding it just long enough for Alli to step through first. She gives me a quick glance, a faint smile crossing her lips before she walks in.

Study Brew hums in the corner, the low buzz of conversations mixing with the hiss of espresso machines.

We weave through a few tables, stopping by the counter, lingering off to the side as Alli steps up to the barista to place her order.

“I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she says, fishing her wallet out of her bag as the barista taps the order into the register.

Before she can swipe her card, I step up beside her. “Matcha latte,” I add quickly, pulling out my debit card.

Alli frowns, glancing over at me. “Wait, what are you doing?”

I ignore her, handing my card to the barista. “I’ve got it.”

She blinks, clearly taken aback. “Jared, you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off, giving the barista a nod as he processes the payment. “Consider it a gift from me.”

Alli opens her mouth to protest but stops, her expression relaxing as she tucks her wallet back into her bag. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

I grin. “I’ve been told.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips as we step away from the counter, waiting for our drinks.

“So,” I say as I walk up next to her, “my game is coming up.”

“I wouldn’t have known with all the banners across campus with your face plastered on them.”

“Gorgeous, right?”

She huffs out a laugh, giving me another eye roll.

“Anyway,” I fish out one of my extra jerseys from my bag, “you’ll need this for the game. Can’t let my girl go empty-handed.”

Her fingers linger against mine as she takes the jersey, and for a beat, everything around us fades. She meets my gaze, eyes wide, as if the touch took her by surprise.

“Thanks,” she says, folding it neatly before slipping it into her bag. “I’ll cherish it forever.”

I laugh, a soft chuckle escaping me. “You better. That’s top-quality fabric right there.”

She quirks an eyebrow, her smirk growing. “Oh, really? Should I frame it instead? Maybe auction it off?”

“Nah.” I shrug, keeping it casual. “It’s yours to keep.” The words come out light, but they land between us, heavier than I meant. There’s something about handing over that jersey that feels bigger, like an unspoken claim.

Alli raises an eyebrow, her expression shifts for a split second before she clears her throat. “You know, if I wear this, people will ask if we’re dating… since we… you know, haven’t said much.”

I step a little closer, my voice drops. “Let them ask.”

Her breath hitches slightly, but she quickly recovers, tilting her head as she looks up at me. “What makes you so sure I’ll even wear it?”

I lean in, close enough that her breath brushes against my skin. “Because let’s be real, you can’t resist me.”

She laughs, giving me a gentle shove but staying close enough that our shoulders brush. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” I say, throwing her a wink.

Her gaze holds mine a beat longer than usual, the giddiness slowly fading. Just as I start to feel its weight, our drinks are called, snapping us back to the present.

We grab our cups, and stepping outside, we’re hit by a breeze that makes me turn to ask if she’d like my hoodie. She just smiles at me, then shakes her head. We walk side by side, a quiet settling between us. I can’t help but glance at her out of the corner of my eye, wondering if she feels it too.

As we reach her building, she turns to me, her smile warm and genuine. “Thanks for the coffee and the jersey.”

“Anytime, Bob the Builder,” I tease, giving her a mock salute.

She laughs, shaking her head as she steps backward toward the entrance. “Good luck with the game, Collins.”

“I don’t need luck,” I call after her. “I’ve got you wearing my jersey.”

She pauses at the door, her hand resting on the handle as she looks back at me. “We’ll see,” she says with a wink before disappearing inside.

I glance around and catch a few curious faces turned my way, subtle grins playing on their lips, like they’re studying me. On cue, my cheeks flush, and an awkward smile creeps onto my face.

“I’m just—it’s hot in here. I’ll, uh, step outside,” I mumble to no one in particular, avoiding the stares as I head back.

What the hell is wrong with me?