Page 36 of Heartstruck

Alli

I stand in the middle of the grocery store, holding a jar of salsa in one hand and a bag of chips in the other, trying to decide if Jared is more of a ‘spicy salsa’ guy or ‘mild.’ Honestly, he’s probably not picky, but this picnic idea of mine feels like it needs to be perfect.

After last week, with everything he told me, I just want to do something, anything, to cheer him up.

A picnic might seem cheesy, but Jared needs something light, something that’ll make him smile.

Besides, it’s not like I’ve ever planned a date like this.

Something this intimate. Most of the time, I offer to pay for lunch or something.

I never take the time to plan this in detail, down to the charcuterie meat I’m getting.

I even ordered a matcha kit last week. I spent an hour watching tutorials on how to make it just right, because I know it’s his favorite, and, for some reason, I want him to think I know all his little quirks. There’s something in me that just wants to prove I can be good at… this .

I toss both jars into my basket, deciding Jared can deal with whichever one he likes, and start making my way down the next aisle for some drinks.

I’m mentally going through my checklist: sandwiches, charcuterie stuff, fruit, and stuff to make matcha, which, by the way, is extremely expensive.

Oh, and those sugar-frosted cookies that I swear increase my blood sugar just at the sight of them.

I freeze.

She’s standing by the deli counter, wearing a perfect smile and flipping her hair like she’s in a shampoo commercial. It’s like the universe is playing a sick joke on me, because I swear she sees me before I even have time to duck behind the bread display.

I try to keep walking, but she steps right into my path.

“Alli, hey!” Her voice rings too cheerful in my ears, sharp and calculating as her eyes lock onto mine. It’s like she’s been waiting for this moment. “Long time no see.”

I force a smile, though my pulse quickens, an instant spike of anger bubbling under the surface. “Hi, Ariel. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she says with a flick of her wrist, gesturing vaguely to her empty cart.

“Just grabbing some snacks while I’m in town visiting a friend.

” She leans in closer, her smile stretched a little too wide.

“I was just thinking about Jared. You two must be spending a lot of time together these days.”

My jaw twitches, but I manage to hold it together. “Yeah, we’re together.”

She laughs lightly, but it’s the kind of laugh that grates at my skin. “It’s funny, don’t you think? We’ve got a history, Jared and I. I always thought we had something… special.” Her eyes narrow while the silence stretches, examining me. “But hey, guess you never really know.”

A thin layer of sweat forms at the back of my neck. “Yeah, well, things change.”

Her smile doesn’t waver, but I notice the slight tightening around her eyes.

“Do they?” she asks, sweet as honey yet slicing.

“You know, I was thinking of stopping by Jared’s place later.

It’s been a while since we caught up, just the two of us.

He’d probably like that, don’t you think?

” Her tone is light, but there’s something dangerous about how she says it. It’s not a suggestion; it’s a claim.

My whole body stiffens. Every muscle in me screams to snap, to tell her just how deluded she is. But I hold it back, biting my tongue to keep from causing a scene.

Instead, I fake a smile, making sure it’s just as sweet as hers. “Actually, Jared and I have plans. Today. Tomorrow. And the day after that. So yeah… he’s a little busy.” I pause, my grip on my basket tight as a chokehold. “But I’ll be sure to let him know you stopped by to ‘catch up.’”

Her smile falters just for a split second. Long enough for me to see how much it pisses her off. But she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. She gives me a quick, cold smile before shrugging, her movements too casual. “Well, maybe next time. It’ll be worth the wait.”

“Over my dead body.”

Her glare could slice through steel, but it doesn’t faze me when she just turns sharply on her heel. Click, clack, click, clack. It’s like she’s trying to leave her mark with every step.

“Have a blessed day, Ariel!” I say, just loud enough for her to hear, watching her back with a satisfied smirk.

Shaking off the irritation, I head to the checkout, my mind spinning with a million thoughts about what she might try to pull next. I can’t let her get to me, not today.

By the time I make it back to my apartment, the rain’s pounding hard, drumming against the windows like it’s got something to prove. I was hoping for sunshine, something to lift the mood, but apparently the universe has other plans.

My outdoor picnic idea? Scrapped. But I’m nothing if not adaptable.

With Olivia out for the night, I clear some space in the living room, spreading out a blanket on the floor like I’m about to create a whole vibe: indoor camping, cozy and laid-back.

It’s ridiculous in a way, but also… perfect.

Maybe I’m trying too hard, but I want to do something nice for him.

Something that might help, even if I’m not sure what he really needs.

Jared doesn’t open up easily, not about the things that really matter.

I get it, though. He’s told me bits and pieces about his mom, how she’s been in and out of his life so many times it’s like she’s got one foot in the door and the other halfway across the country.

She disappears, sometimes for months, sometimes longer, and when she does reappear, it’s like nothing’s changed, like she didn’t leave a trail of chaos behind her.

I know it screws with his head. I saw it in the way his shoulders tensed when he talked to me about her and the way his jaw locked like he was trying to keep himself from feeling too much.

He doesn’t say it, but I know he still hopes.

It’s hard to watch now, because I know how much he’s hurting, even if he tries to hide it.

But it’s like… he’s waiting for her to be the person she’s never been.

And I can’t help wondering how long he’ll keep holding on to that hope before it breaks him.

I can’t imagine what that’s like. Having a parent who should’ve been there for you but wasn’t.

My family is complicated, sure, but at least they were always present.

Jared grew up trying to hold it together by himself.

And now, with his mom trying to reconnect after all those years…

It’s no wonder he’s always closed off about his family.

I’ve got sandwiches, a charcuterie board, and drinks all set up when Jared finally shows up, drenched from the rain despite his hooded jacket. He shakes off water like a wet dog at the door, and I can’t help but smile.

“Hey,” I greet him, motioning to the spread in front of me. “So… I was going to take us on a little outdoor adventure, but the weather had other plans.” I lean in to give him a quick kiss, the kind that lingers just enough to feel warm. “Welcome to my indoor picnic.”

Jared gives me a crooked smile, his eyes drifting around the room before landing on me. The exhaustion is still there; it clings fiercely to him. But for a second, his guard drops, and a hint of vulnerability slips through. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I know,” I say with a shrug, sitting down on the blanket. “I wanted to. Anything to cheer you up.”

He hesitates before finally dropping his bag by the door and joining me on the floor.

His hand brushes against mine as he reaches for one of the sandwiches; it’s hot and cold at the same time—that uneasy feeling he carries on his back.

Our eyes meet, and I offer him a weak smile.

The space between us feels like it’s expanding, but then his shoulders drop just a fraction, a barely-there shift that lightens the load.

Rain taps softly against the windows, filling the silence as we eat. For a while, it’s easy—comfortable. The kind of quiet that doesn’t need to be filled. I let him sit with his thoughts, even though mine keep circling back to everything he’s been carrying. Everything he still hasn’t said.

Finally, I break the silence. “So… Thanksgiving’s coming up.”

Jared pauses mid-bite, glancing at me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. My family does this big lunch every year. It’s chaotic, but fun. I was thinking… maybe you could come with me?”

He sets down his sandwich, looking out the window before meeting my eyes again. “If you want me there, I can be there.”

“I mean, yeah,” I say, trying to keep it casual, like it’s no big deal. “No pressure or anything. You can totally stay home and enjoy… whatever sad meal you’d have by yourself.”

He raises a brow, his lips twitching with amusement. “Sad meal?”

I shrug. “You just give off frozen pizza energy.”

He smirks but doesn’t answer right away.

And I start to worry I’ve pushed too hard.

Serena’s told me before that Thanksgiving isn’t exactly his favorite holiday.

Something about it always seems to pull him back into himself, making him a little more distant than usual.

Not in a bad way, just in that ‘I need space but don’t know how to ask for it’ kind of way.

And the last thing I want is to make things weird or add more pressure to whatever he’s already dealing with.

But after what feels like forever, he finally nods. “I’d love to join you. Plus, I could go for tamales .”

I laugh, crossing my arms. “Oh, I see how it is. You’re just in it for the food.”

He shrugs, all cocky now. And I recognize the faint gleam in his eyes. “If the tamales are as good as they were at Victoria’s party, maybe.”

“Just don’t tell my mom that. She’ll never let you leave without taking it to go.”

His smile eases as he leans back onto the blanket. “Could be worse.”

The conversation drifts back into safer territory after that; we talk about school, make jokes about the rain, anything except the heavier stuff. I can tell he’s trying to keep things lighthearted, and I’m okay with that.

By the time we finish eating, the rain paces down to a slow drizzle, and I’m packing up the leftovers when Jared turns to me, his expression serious.

“Alli, about Thanksgiving… I really appreciate you inviting me.”

“Of course,” I say, giving him a small smile.

He stutters and mumbles, almost like he’s choosing his words carefully. “Do you know why I hate Thanksgiving?”

I shake my head, letting him continue.

“When I was younger…” He pauses, like he’s debating whether or not to continue.

I wait, giving him the space he needs. “My first visit to the family center was on Thanksgiving morning. My dad dropped me off because he forgot to… pick me up from a friend’s house the night before.

I didn’t even know about my mom’s addiction back then, not really.

But that day, it hit me like a brick. The rehab, the broken promises. The whole day just… ruined.”

I don’t know what to say at first, so I don’t rush to fill the silence. I just let it be, let him process.

“I’m sorry, Jared,” I say finally, my voice careful as my heart aches. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

He shrugs, but it’s a half-hearted attempt at brushing it off.

“Yeah, well, it’s in the past. But it’s why I’ve always hated the holiday.

Everyone’s gathered around their perfect tables, with their perfect families, and I…

never had that. At least not until Lina and Serena came into our lives.

Even with them trying so hard, I still feel like an outsider.

Like I’m just borrowing a seat at someone else’s table.

It helps—don’t get me wrong—but it doesn’t erase all the years I spent hating this time of year.

I take a step closer, my hand resting lightly on his arm. “You’re not alone. Maybe it’s not the kind of family you imagined, but you’ve got people. Your dad, Lina, the twins, Serena, and your team. And if you come to Thanksgiving with me, I promise we’ll make sure you feel like you belong.”

He meets my eyes, and for a second, his mask slips. Something in his blue eyes shifts, drawing me in despite the warning bells going off in my head.

“Alli…” His voice is rough, like he’s struggling to keep it together. “I don’t know if that’s possible. The holidays are hard for me.”

I shake my head, standing firm. “I know. But you deserve something nice, Jared.”

He presses his lips together and nods, silence taking over the room again. His eyes travel down to my lips, and I feel that familiar thrill on my chest. And then, as quickly as it came, the moment passes. Jared swallows hard, stepping back slightly, like he’s regaining control of himself.

“Thanks, Alli. For being… you.”

I offer him a smile, though my heart’s still racing. “Don’t mention it.”

As we clean up, I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, there's something unreadable in his expression, like he’s still holding back. I step closer, brushing my hand against his arm.

“You know I’m here, right? For whatever you need.”

“Yeah, I know.” He kisses my forehead.

And maybe that’s enough for now.