Page 37 of Heartstruck

Jared

The drive to Alli’s family’s place feels longer than it should.

The thrum of the engine and the rustling of the trees outside do nothing to calm my nerves.

I tap the steering wheel, trying to shake off the tension that’s been gnawing at me ever since she invited me to Thanksgiving.

I should be looking forward to this—it’s a day to forget about everything for a while.

I know Alli means well. I know she just wants me to have something good. Something normal. But even as I tell myself it’s just lunch, my stomach twists.

The smell of home-cooked meals. Laughter around a table.

A family that actually gives a shit about each other.

I’ve had glimpses of it before with friends, but it’s not mine.

It never was. And the thought of sitting there, pretending like I belong in this happy little bubble of hers, feels like a lie I’m not sure I can keep up for long.

I glance over at Alli. She’s sitting beside me, her phone in her lap, absently scrolling and glancing out the window every so often. She looks relaxed, like inviting me into her world is as easy as breathing. And maybe for her, it is.

For me, it feels like a step I’m not sure I want to take.

Her family is everything mine’s not. Stable. Close. Loving. I wonder what they’ll see when they look at me. Will they see the guy who has his life together? Or the guy that’s barely holding on?

“Hey.” Alli’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “You okay?”

I blink and force a smile. “Yeah, just thinking.”

She raises an eyebrow, like she knows I’m not telling her the full truth. “You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s all good.”

She gives me a look but doesn’t push. I appreciate that about her, how she knows when to press and when to let it go.

The closer we get to her family’s place, the more I can feel my nerves getting to me.

Memories of Thanksgiving when I was younger flash through my mind.

Mom used to make it a big deal, back when she was still herself.

We’d sit at the table, just the two of us, and it didn’t feel like we were missing anything. It was enough. Until it wasn’t.

Snippets of a time before everything turned, when I had a different version of a mom.

She’d make her famous stuffing, the one that always smelled like sage and had that extra punch of garlic.

Her cranberry sauce that she swore was homemade, but I always found the empty cans tucked away in the trash.

When things took a turn, everything changed.

The holidays felt… hollow. I could tell she was somewhere else, even when she was right there. And it has stayed that way ever since.

We pull up to the house, and the sight of it makes me gulp. It’s exactly what I expected. A cozy home with decorations on the porch and the scent of delicious pumpkin pie already stuffing the air.

I cut the engine, but I don’t move right away.

“Babe?” Alli’s voice shifts, a quiet concern slipping through as she feels the change in me. Her hand rubs lightly against mine, gentle but steady. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

Her words hit harder than she probably realizes. It’s not about whether I’m ready. It’s about not wanting to mess this up, mess her up.

I exhale, glancing at her. “No, I’m good. Let’s do this.”

The dining room is already bustling by the time Alli and I step in, the warm light catching in her hair as she leads me to an open seat at the crowded table.

Her family is leaning over each other, passing dishes and filling plates with all kinds of holiday spreads.

It’s lively, messy, and has a way of making you feel like you’ve stepped into another world entirely.

“Jared! So good to see you again. We finally get to know you outside of a party,” Alli’s Tía Rosie says with a wide smile, leaning over the table to wink at Alli. “We’ve heard plenty about you—though I’m not sure how much of it is actually true.”

I smirk, shooting Alli a sideways glance as her face turns bright red, half-hidden behind her napkin. “Relax,” I tease. “I’m probably more impressive on paper than in real life anyway.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Tía Rosie fires back with a smirk. “If you made it through Alli’s cooking, you’ve already earned your spot here.” She gives her niece a nudge, and I grin as Alli groans.

“Come on, that was one time,” Alli mumbles. “The recipe said it would brown on top. I just didn’t expect ‘brown’ to mean ‘black.’”

Alli’s dad jumps in, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “What she means is, we’ve learned to keep the fire extinguisher on standby,” he says, making the whole table laugh.

I laugh too, relaxing into the back-and-forth that feels like being tugged into a warm tide. “I don’t know. Burnt rolls might just be a secret family specialty,” I say, watching Alli’s mom and dad nod along with exaggerated solemnity.

“Let’s call it ‘smoked flavor,’” her dad replies, chuckling as he hands me the mashed potatoes. “We’re glad you’re here, Jared. Feel free to load up, you’ll need it to survive dessert.”

“Hey!” Alli huffs beside me, cheeks flushed pink as she gives her dad an elbow nudge.

I find myself chatting with her younger cousin, Leo, who’s drilling me with every football question he can think of. It’s strangely easy to slip into their routine, joining the teasing, the shared jokes, and feeling surprisingly at home.

Leo grins, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “So, you’re a wide receiver? Does that mean you’re, like, super fast?”

“Fast enough to catch the ball when someone chucks it fifty yards,” I say with a shrug, throwing a quick glance at Alli, who’s rolling her eyes.

“Don’t let him fool you. Jared likes to act cool, but he’s one of the biggest nerds on the team.”

“Hey, no need to call me out like that,” I say, grinning at her. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold here, you know.”

She snorts. “Too late. Now you’re officially part of the family. Secrets and all.”

After a lunch feast full of turkey, mashed potatoes, tamales , and pozole , I follow Alli out to the back porch.

The cool evening air brushes against my skin.

She leans on the railing, her gaze fixed on the neighborhood where porch lights flicker on like stars.

Crickets sound faintly in the background.

I step closer, the silence between us wrapping around us like a blanket of calm.

“Hey, how are you?” she asks, tipping her head to look up at me, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. “I hope they’re not making you feel uncomfortable.”

I shrug, letting my gaze drift to the darkening horizon.

“Actually… it’s nice. I don’t get this kind of thing often.

” My gaze slides back to her, and I catch how the soft light hits her face, making her look even more stunning than usual, like she doesn’t need to try at all.

It’s the kind of beauty that makes you stop and admire.

“Your family is incredible. I’m jealous. ”

Her hand drifts toward mine, fingers brushing my skin, tentative at first, like she’s testing if it’s okay. “They like you. A lot. My mom practically called dibs on you for all future holidays.”

I laugh, but there’s a small tug in my chest, something bittersweet.

She inches closer, slipping her arms around my waist. Her breath comes out as a puff in the cold air as she gazes up at me, that spark in her eyes.

I slide my hands to her waist, pulling her into me, and for a mere instant, all the noise, all the confusion in my head goes radio silent.

Just the two of us outside, the distant sound of laughter from her family inside.

“Alli…” My voice is rough, a little quieter than I expected. I clear my throat, searching for the right words. “Thanks for having me here.”

She bites her lip, the hint of a smile breaking through. “Don’t thank me yet. My family can be a lot.”

My lips twitch up. “Good thing I like a challenge.” My fingers trace the curve of her waist, and I dip my head, pressing my lips to hers. It’s gentle at first, just a light touch, but when she sighs and pulls me closer, I deepen the kiss, feeling the apprehension from the evening melt away.

She pulls back, smiling, fingers still entwined in my shirt. “You want to head back in?”

I glance back at the house, my hand resting on hers. “I’m actually tired.”

Alli’s lips curve, her eyes full of bad ideas when she catches the hint in my words. “Tired, huh?”

Nodding, I drive her closer. “Yeah. Think I need a little peace and quiet.”

She turns to me, her smile softer, more vulnerable. “I know the perfect escape.”