Page 20 of Heartstruck

Alli

The quiet hum of my desk lamp is the only sound in the apartment as I sink into the chair, my eyes fixed on the jersey.

Jared’s name stretches across the back in bold letters, like it’s yelling at me.

I should probably hang it up or toss it somewhere, but instead, I keep turning it over in my hands like it holds the answers to questions I don’t even know how to ask.

One minute, we’re laughing and teasing; the next, he’s handing me his jersey to publicly claim his stake on me. It’s confusing me. I know we’re friends. We’ve been friends for years. This fake relationship is messing with my head to the point where I can’t tell if we are more than friends at times.

My fingers graze against the soft fabric of the jersey, and I feel the weight of it—the reality of whatever this is .

Does he even realize what this means? Every time I glance at him, searching his face for some clue, all I get is that easy, confident smile.

He’s acting like this is no big deal, like we do this kind of thing all the time. Like this is normal.

I can still feel the heat between us from that night, the way his breath hitched when I leaned in, the way his hand tightened on my waist like he didn’t want to let go.

It wasn’t supposed to go that far, and yet…

it almost did. We haven’t talked about it since, but the memory burns, hanging in the air every time we’re alone.

Does he think about it, too? Or am I the only one replaying that moment, wondering what would’ve happened if we hadn’t pulled away?

Too real.

I can’t stop the flutter in my chest when he’s around, can’t shake the way his touch lingers longer than it should.

Is it all in my head? God, why is it that deep down I wished that we kissed?

I lean back, letting out a frustrated sigh as I rake my fingers through my hair, hold it into a loose bun before letting it fall again.

There’s something about him that digs under my skin in ways I can’t explain.

I don’t know whether it’s more annoyance or curiosity, but all I know is that it’s messing with my head.

A sharp ring cuts through the silence, jolting me out of my thoughts. I peek at the screen, Tía Mary. My stomach tightens, a knot forming deep inside.

Ugh, not now.

I let it ring once, twice, three times, before reluctantly answering. “Hello?”

“Allison! Finally, I’ve been trying to reach you all day,” Tía Mary’s voice comes through, brisk and demanding. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for coming home and helping Victoria get ready. I know the drive is long for you, but you know family runs deep. We help each other, no matter what.”

I swallow hard, already feeling the familiar pressure build in my chest. “Of course.”

“Good, because your mother said something about school being ‘stressful,’ and I don’t want to hear any excuses. Family is important, Allison.”

There it is. I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I know, Tía .”

“Perfect. And don’t forget we’re hosting Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. You’ll need to be at the house early to help set up…”

Her words start to blur when everything presses down on me like a barbell. My pulse quickens, and that tight feeling in my chest swells, making it hard to breathe.

“Okay,” I manage to say, though my voice feels distant, like it’s coming from someone else entirely.

The call ends, but my mind spins, bouncing between family obligations, thoughts of Jared, and everything I’m not sure how to deal with right now.

I throw my phone onto the bed and bury my face in my hands. God, I need to pull it together. But with Jared taking up every inch of my thoughts and Tía Mary’s demands crashing over me, I don’t even know where to begin.

The front door clicks open, and Olivia’s footsteps reverberate through the apartment. “Alli? You home?” She calls out, her voice light and breezy, like she’s coming back from a victory lap instead of a long day.

I don’t respond, sinking deeper into the comfort of my bed. Maybe if I stay quiet, she’ll think I’m asleep. But that’s wishful thinking. Olivia rounds the corner, pausing as soon as she catches sight of me curled up and staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Hey.” Her voice takes on a quieter tone, like flipping a switch. “What’s going on?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, just walks over and drops her tote bag on the floor before plopping down beside me. Olivia has this knack for sensing when I’m spiraling, her presence always steady, no matter how unsteady I feel.

“It’s just… family stuff,” I partly confess after a moment, my fingers pressing against my temples like I can physically shove the distress out of my head.

Olivia clicks her tongue, concern etched in her dark eyes. “Uh, oh. Is this another Tía Mary episode?”

I huff out a weak laugh. “Isn’t it always? Every conversation turns into a lecture. It’s like no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.”

She nudges me with her shoulder, her tone lightening just enough to tease. “Welcome to the club. My mom is basically the president of the ‘Why Aren’t You Perfect?’ committee.”

That pulls a laugh out of me, one that feels genuine for the first time all day. “Yeah? What’s her latest deal?”

Olivia sighs dramatically, sinking further into the bed beside me. “Last week, she told me I’d look prettier if I didn’t look so tired. Like, thanks, Mom. Just what I needed, insults masked as life advice.”

I laugh, the sound bubbling out of me like a release valve. “You win. Tía Mary hasn’t hit me with that one yet.”

“Give her time,” Olivia says, smirking. “But seriously, you can’t let her get to you. She probably just needs to feel like she’s in control of something, and unfortunately, you’re the easiest target.”

I sigh, turning my head to look at her. “Why does that actually make me feel better?”

“Because I’m wise,” she says, wrapping an arm around me. “And hilarious. Don’t forget that part.”

Her theatrics pull another laugh from me, and I feel the sweat in my palms dry out.

“Listen,” she says, her voice dipping into seriousness. “You don’t have to do it all by yourself. If Tía Mary’s being too much, tell her to back off. Talk to your mom… Or better yet, just pull a Yeon-Hee on her and casually throw shade.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What kind of shade?”

“I don’t know. Tell her she looks tired or something. Works every time with my mom.”

The sheer audacity of it makes me burst out laughing, shaking my head at her. “Yeah, because that’s a great way to keep the peace.”

“Who said anything about peace?” Olivia grins, clearly pleased with herself. “Sometimes you just got to live for the chaos.”

Her infectious energy makes it impossible not to smile. I nudge her shoulder back. “Thanks, Liv. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Probably cry into a pillow while binging sad breakup songs,” she says matter-of-factly. “But lucky for you, I’ll bring the ice cream and a list of bad rom-coms.”

Before I can respond, Olivia’s phone vibrates. She grabs it, her face lighting up as she reads the screen.

“Is that Nathan?”

“Of course. Who else would it be?” she says with a sly smile.

“The guy from the bookstore, right? The one with the cute dimples?”

“That’s the one.” She slips her phone back into her pocket. “We’re going out tonight. Wanna come? We can make it a group thing.”

The thought of venturing outside after the day I’ve had makes me shudder. “Nah, I think I’m good. I’ll take a raincheck, though.”

Olivia nods, studying me for a beat. “Okay. But only if you promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“That if you stay in, you’ll at least treat yourself to something. I want wine, chocolate, or a bath involved. Or all three.”

I laugh quietly, appreciating the way she always finds a way to look after me without making it a big deal. “Deal.”

I trace the patterns on my comforter, finding solace in its familiar texture.

Until echoes of Tía Mary’s lecture haunt my mind again.

It all felt like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under.

My fingers fidget with the hem of my blanket as I try to focus on my breathing, hoping it’ll ease my hitched breaths.

The sound of the doorbell cut through the stillness, sending my heart into a sudden, rapid thud and tightening the knot of anxiety in my chest.

“Who the hell?” I mutter, tossing the covers aside.

I move quickly to the door, and the doorbell rings again. I lean into the peephole, and I think about what I look like for a split second. I let my hair down, fluff it out, run back to change my shirt, and rush to the door again.

“What are you doing here?” I ask as I open the door.

Jared gives me a sheepish grin, his eyes flickering to the bag in his hand. “I brought snacks.” He lifts it slightly, and I catch a glimpse of the familiar tub of ice cream peeking out. “Oh, and I found this wicked puzzle at my apartment’s clubhouse.”

“You stole a puzzle?”

“Borrowed,” he corrects with a wink. “And before you ask, I haven’t started it yet, so… I thought we would start together.”

I step aside, gripping the edge of the door. Jared strides in like he owns the place, casual and confident, as if showing up uninvited is totally normal. It’s annoyingly perfect timing, of course he would appear when my brain’s begging for a distraction.

He walks into the living room and sets the bag down on the coffee table. “So, what’s the plan? Wang’s Kitchen and ice cream while we work on the puzzle?”

A smile spreads across my lips, despite the storm brewing in my head. I lean against the doorframe, narrowing my eyes.

“Why are you really here, Jared?” I challenge casually.

He shrugs, the grin never leaving his face. “Thought you could use some company. And, well, there are rumors about my new girlfriend,” he says, sending me a mischievous wink. “And… a couple of sorority girls are loitering outside my apartment.”

“Isn’t that stalking? Why don’t you call the police?”

“They’re not technically on the property, so it doesn’t count.”

“That sounds stupid.”

He laughs, and the sound is so contagious that I find myself joining in. There’s something about the way he makes everything feel effortless, like it’s all just a joke. And even though I know there’s probably more to why he showed up, I’m not about to ask. Not yet.