Page 35 of Heartstruck

Jared

Break’s over. I’m leaning over the table, textbooks spread out in front of me, trying to focus on the chemistry concepts that seem to blur together.

But my gaze keeps drifting to Alli, sitting across from me with her brows furrowed in concentration.

The way she bites her lip as she studies makes it hard to concentrate on anything else.

“Keep biting your lip like that and I’m going to duct tape your mouth.”

She returns a breathy chuckle.

“Okay, tell me again why we’re torturing ourselves like this,” I say, pushing my hair back from my forehead. “Midterms are just a fancy way of saying, ‘let’s see how stressed we can make these kids.’”

She glances up, a smirk dancing on her lips. “Because some of us actually want to pass? You know that little thing called education?”

“Right, right. But what if we could just negotiate our way through life? ‘Hey, professor, how about a little extra credit for being cute?’” I raise my eyebrows, hoping for some kind of reaction.

“Nice try, Romeo, but I don’t think that’ll work,” she replies, laughter twinkling in her eyes.

Just then, my phone buzzes on the table, pulling me out of our banter. I check the screen, and my stomach drops as I see an email from my mom. I haven’t heard from her in months, not since she went into rehab. Hesitating, I open it and quickly scan the words.

Jared, I hope you’re doing well. I’m thinking of you and hoping to make things right. Can we talk?

Air leaves my lungs as if someone punched me in the gut. My vision goes blurry. I feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

I don’t even notice Alli’s voice until she waves a hand in front of me.

“Babe, are you okay?”

I blink, trying to shake it off, but the gravity of the email hangs over me.

“Yeah… I’m fine,” I say, but the lie bulks over me.

I promised her I’d stay and study, but I can’t focus.

Not with this. I start packing up my books, trying to act casual.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna head out. I’m not feeling great. ”

Concern and surprise pass over her face. “Oh—”

Before she can finish, I swing my backpack over my shoulder and lean down, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Alli doesn’t say anything at first, but her eyes search mine, as if she’s trying to understand what’s really going on. I return the ghost of a smile, hoping to keep things light, then turn to leave before I fall apart right there in front of her.

I step out of the library, and the chilly fall air brushes my face, sharp enough to feel like winter.

But it doesn’t clear the fog in my mind.

My footsteps feel like lead as I walk aimlessly across campus, my phone still clutched in my hand.

I keep rereading the email in my head, the words looping over and over.

Hoping to make things right. I want to believe her, but I’ve heard that before.

A tightness floods my chest, and I push it down, doing my best to ignore it. I shove my phone into my pocket and head for the courtyard, not giving myself a second to think. I sink onto a bench, fighting to calm the tension that’s gripped me like a vice since leaving the library.

A part of me knows I should call her. She’s reaching out, which is her trying, I guess.

But what if it’s like last time? The apologies, the promises, and then nothing changes.

I lean back against the bench, staring up at the darkening sky, my mind swirling with frustration and a gnawing sense of uncertainty.

Just as I’m about to pull out my phone again, it buzzes. For a split second, I think it’s my mom. But when I glance down, I breathe.

Alli: hey, are you sure you’re okay?

I didn’t even realize I’ve been MIA for almost two hours. Was I really this lost in my thoughts? I hesitate before typing a reply.

Jared: yeah, just a lot on my mind. I’ll be fine.

It’s vague, but I can’t bring myself to say more.

Not yet.

I drop my phone back in my pocket and run my hands through my hair.

Alli’s been there for me through a lot, but I don’t know how to explain this without it feeling like I’m dumping more baggage on her.

She deserves better than that… but better might as well be me being truthful instead of pretending to be fine when I’m clearly not.

I sit there for a while longer, the cold seeping through my jacket, but I barely feel it. Eventually, I get up and start drifting around campus again, my thoughts chasing each other in circles.

By the time I reach my dorm, I’m exhausted. I drop my backpack on the floor and collapse onto my bed, staring at the ceiling.

What if this time is different? What if she really is trying?

My phone buzzes again, and this time, I don’t even bother checking. I can’t deal with anyone right now. Not Alli, not my mom. Not anyone.

Rolling onto my side, I pull the blanket over my head, trying to block out the world. But even in the silence, the question remains imprinted like a tattoo.

Can we talk?

I haven’t talked to anyone about this, not even Alli, despite her knowing something’s off.

Every time we text, I keep it short, making excuses about being busy, tired, or “stressed with school.” Neither Tyler, though he’s tried to get me to open up.

He sees right through me, but I always deflect when he asks if I’m okay.

Saying it out loud would make it real. And I’m not ready for that.

A few days later, I’m studying at my apartment for Cell Biology until I hear a knock on my door.

Alli stands there, arms crossed, her expression brewing with worry and frustration.

“Hey,” she whispers, stepping inside with a tentative glance around. She sets her bag down and searches my face. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, taking a step back and looking anywhere but at her. It’s easier this way, keeping my distance, shrugging it off.

Alli watches me closely, her brows furrowed. Without a word, she places the back of her hand against my forehead, her touch surprisingly gentle. A wave of guilt washes over me as her expression shifts.

“You’re warm. You’re lying,” she says, her voice calm but unwavering, like she already knows the truth.

“Just tired,” I force a weak smile.

She studies me, piecing together what I’m not saying. “Okay, Jared. What’s going on? Don’t tell me it’s school. We both know that’s not it.”

I rub the back of my neck, my gaze dropping to the floor as I try to find the right words. “It’s complicated.”

Alli lets out a slow breath. “Everything is complicated, but if you keep shutting me out, what are we doing here?”

“It’s not that simple, Alli.”

“Then make it simple. You’ve been blowing me off with excuses. I’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt, thinking the pressure of football and classes was getting to you. I’m trying to be understanding here.” She steps forward, and her eyes stay locked on mine. “Tell me what’s going on.”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, frustration settling in my chest. My hands fall to my sides, and I lean back slightly, not able to meet her eyes. “It’s not easy for me.”

“It’s about your mom, isn’t it?”

“I wish it wasn’t.”

She steps closer, resting a hand on my chest. That touch—it makes everything I’ve buried rise to the surface. “What happened?”

“She wants to see me.” I say, clearing my throat to hold back sobs.

“And you’re not happy about that?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “After everything? She’s been in and out of my life like a hurricane.

One minute she’s there, the next she’s gone.

I spent years trying to be the son she needed, showing up at our visits, making her cards, and calling on Mother’s Day.

But it never mattered. Even now, she’s ghosting me.

She just… disappeared for months. Now she wants back in? ”

Alli cups my face, but I pull away, turn around, and rake my fingers through my hair.

“You know how she… would leave me in the park when I was younger to buy drugs.” My throat tightens.

I’m reliving the worst parts of my life all over again.

“I didn’t get it then, but later, it hit me.

I’d just sit there, waiting. Hours would pass.

I watched other kids with their parents getting ice cream, telling myself she’d come back with Dippin’ Dots. She did, but it felt like forever.”

Alli’s hand is still on my chest, anchoring me to the present. But it’s like a dam broke, and it’s pouring out of me.

“And the worst part? I defended her. Made excuses. I didn’t want anyone to know why I was alone. I didn’t want to believe it either.”

Her fingers dig into my skin, the grip tightening like she’s my life jacket. “Jared…”

I let out a shaky breath, the words tasting like metal on my tongue. “It messes with your head. One day, she’s your world; the next, she’s gone. I thought if I was good enough, she’d stay.”

Her gaze doesn’t leave mine, and I see the glisten in her eyes. She reaches up to brush a stray tear from my cheek. “You didn’t do anything wrong. She should’ve been there for you.”

“Yeah, well… tell that to the younger me. I thought I could fix it. I thought I was past it,” I say, shaking my head. “But now, waiting for her, it feels like I’m on that same park bench. Wondering if she’ll disappear or come back again.”

Alli wraps her arms around me, pulling me close. I let myself lean into her, the warmth of her embrace filling the cracks I didn’t realize were there. It’s a quiet strength, one that steadies me more than anything else ever could.

“It’s not on you, Jared. Nor on that kid who waited and tried his best.” She says quietly. “You don’t have to keep waiting for her. You have people who care about you now.”

I close my eyes and hold her tighter, burying my face into her neck. For the first time, the burden doesn’t feel so crushing; it’s like I’m not carrying it on my own anymore.

Alli doesn’t move, and my breaths eventually match her steadier ones.

“I don’t know what to do with all this,” I admit, the words slipping out without thinking. “I’ve spent so long trying to hold everything together, trying to figure out what I can change. But it feels like no matter what I do… it’s never enough.”

I feel her nod against me, but she doesn’t speak immediately, giving me space to process, to finally say the things I’ve kept buried. I pull back slightly, searching her eyes for something—anything—to make it better. But she doesn’t offer solutions. Instead, there’s just silent understanding.

Her hands find mine, and she guides me to the couch. We sit, and she brings my hands to her lap, gently resting them over.

“It’s not about fixing it,” her voice cuts through the uproar in my mind. “Some things just aren’t fixable. And maybe, right now… you don’t need to fix anything. You just need to be okay with where you are.”

She’s right. All the years spent trying to control everything, trying to change the outcome, have never worked. Maybe that’s not my responsibility.

“Do you ever… feel like you’re still waiting for something that won’t happen?” I ask.

Alli’s eyes meet mine, her eyes warming as she meets mine. “All the time. But waiting doesn’t mean you stop living. Sometimes, change comes in ways you don’t expect. You have to let go of the need for things to turn out a certain way.”

I nod, the words settling into my chest. “I guess I’m still figuring it out,” I say, shaking my head. “But maybe it’s time I stop trying to fix everything.”

Her smile is barely there, but still, it’s reassuring, her forehead resting against mine. “I’ll be here while you figure it out. You don’t have to do it alone.”

I cup her face and kiss her weakly. She returns a kiss on my forehead and smiles, patting on her lap. I let myself rest on her, and with a deep breath, I understand the burden isn’t on my shoulders. Not now.