Page 42 of Heartstruck

Jared

I toss the football into the air, catching it with a dull thud when it lands back in my hand; the only thing I hear is the reverberation of the heavy bounces.

Chase and Troy had invited me to grab food earlier, but I bailed. I can’t fake this right now. Not tonight.

The ball hits my hand again, and I grip it tighter, fingers pressing into the worn leather. It helps me focus—at least for a moment. But Alli’s voice is still echoing in my head. Soft. Calm. Nothing like her words, which landed with quiet precision and cut deeper than I was ready for.

I can’t keep fighting for someone who’s already given up.

It pisses me off how easily she said that. My fingers curl around the ball tighter.

I should have told her differently. Should have said the words that could’ve fixed it all, or maybe I just didn’t have the right ones.

Maybe I'm an idiot.

I throw the ball one last time, winding up to toss it when I hear the knock.

“Yo, open up!” Chase yells from the other side. “Don’t make me knock it down, man. Big bad wolf comin’ in hot.”

Groaning, I get up and head for the door. I expect the usual, but seeing the six-pack of beer and bags of food takes me off guard.

“Told you I brought backup,” Chase announces, flashing a grin as he slides past me.

Troy trails in behind, holding up a greasy paper bag like it’s the prize of the century. “Here. Double cheeseburger for the sulker.”

“I’m not sulking,” I mutter, watching them crowd into my space.

“Right, sure you’re not,” Chase says as he plops down on the couch, already tossing me a beer. “And I’m the coach’s favorite.”

Troy snorts. “We’re here to stage an intervention. Sit down, man. We need to know why you’ve been acting like a moody teenager for the past couple of days.”

“I’m not—”

“Sulking,” Chase interrupts, leaning back, cracking open a beer. “It’s cool, dude. So… is it Alli?”

The second her name registers, I go still. It’s like something snaps in my chest. I fidget with the beer can but don’t bother opening it.

Troy eyes me before speaking up. “Yeah, it’s Alli, isn’t it?” His eyebrows lift. “Look at your face.”

I throw them both a glare, but it doesn’t hold. They both just look back at me like they’ve cracked a code.

“Man, you really are messed up over her,” Chase adds, nudging Troy. “This could be fun.”

“Yeah, it’s complicated,” I confess, sinking into the chair across from them.

“Complicated is just a nice word for ‘I don’t want to deal with it,’” Chase says, taking a long sip.

Troy leans forward, folding his arms and getting serious. “Yeah, complicated is just a wall you put up because you’re afraid of what's on the other side. So, tell us, what’s the problem with you and Alli?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it harder to get the words out, and Troy’s philosophical advice throws me off a bit. My hands tighten around the edge of the table.

“I messed up… and so did she. But there’s more to it. Serena’s pissed at me, too… everything feels like it’s breaking apart.”

Chase raises an eyebrow. “Ah, there we go. There’s the drama. This definitely sounds like a conversation about”—he drums on his thighs—“feelings.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that. It’s just… everything is so twisted right now. I thought I could handle it, but I guess I’ve just been screwing it all up.”

Troy’s brows knit together. “What do you mean, screw it up? How?”

I rub a hand over my face. “I keep making the same mistakes. First with Alli, telling her I didn’t think we could work because I’m messed up or whatever, and then with Serena, pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t…

lying to her, also. And now it feels like I’m just waiting for everything to… ” I mimic an explosion with my hands.

“Okay, fine, I’ll bite,” Chase says, leaning in like he’s all in.

“You know it’s not about making everything perfect, right?

It’s about not making the same mistakes and owning up to your shit.

You’ve gotta face things head-on. If you keep avoiding it, talking about the what-ifs, and running away, it’ll eat you alive. ”

“Chase is right,” Troy chimes in, crossing his arms. “And, look, I get it. It's easy to sit here and overthink mistakes, but if you care about Alli, you don’t have the luxury of waiting for a perfect moment. You fix it right now.”

I let out a frustrated exhale, turning the beer in my hand. “I don’t know how to fix it. She looked at me like I broke everything… like I ruined her.”

There’s a long silence before Troy speaks again, “Look, if you care about her like you say you do… you won’t let her walk away from you.”

Chase slams his hand on the table like he’s trying to emphasize a point. “Yeah, man. You don’t sit back and let the girl of your dreams walk out because you’re ‘too busy figuring things out.’ You do something about it.”

The truth lands in my chest like a punch I didn’t know I needed.

“Yeah,” I glance from one friend to the other. “I’m scared she’s already gone. What if she doesn’t want to hear me out?”

Troy gives me a look like he’s studying me. “If you don’t give her the chance to hear you, she won’t. You need to fight for her, tell her what you need to, which is that you messed up. That you’re trying, but you need to be better for her.”

Chase smirks, lifting his beer. “Damn, Troy. Look at you getting all wise on us. Kinda hot, man.”

Troy rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’m serious, though. Stop overthinking it, Jared. Don’t wait for some magical fix. Take action now. And… tell her how she’s hurt you, too, man. There's always two sides of the coin.”

I laugh, the tightness easing slightly. “You guys are nuts, but I get it.”

Chase throws a fry at me, his grin widening. “Hell yeah, you do. And now? You figure out what the hell you’re gonna do next with that big ol’ heart of yours. This isn’t something you let slip away.”

Troy holds my shoulder. “But, you know, don’t screw it up again.”

“I’m working on it."

There’s a long pause where I just sit there, thinking. I’ve spent too many days trying to ignore the truth. It’s time to own it. Without Alli, nothing feels right. And fixing this? That’s on me.

The guys banter again, talking about hot dogs or whatever, but I don’t hear them. Why the hell didn’t she listen? Why didn’t I make things clearer for her? Why do we have to keep making everything harder than it needs to be?

Guilt hits me hard. Alli’s family showed me exactly the side she feared was real.

It wasn’t just her perception. I fucked up with her, yes, but her aunt had no reason to speak about me that way.

Alli warned me, and I should’ve known better.

Should’ve seen it coming. But none of that changes the fact that she’s hurt. And I’m the asshole who let it happen.

I slam the beer down, frustration biting through every muscle in my body. Enough of the moping, enough of the waiting for some perfect moment to fix this. I can’t keep spinning in circles.

I need to show her. To fight for her, like I should’ve done from the start. This has to happen. Whatever happens, I’ve got to act now.