Page 49 of Heartstruck

Alli

The smell of cinnamon and coffee stirs me awake before my alarm even has a chance. I stretch under the inviting weight of my blanket, hearing the muffled disaster downstairs: the laughter, the crinkle of wrapping paper, and my mom’s voice hollering at someone to stop running with scissors.

I throw on the oversized sweater I grabbed on the way to bed, followed by some leggings and the fuzzy reindeer socks Evelyn gifted me during our Christmas Eve cousins sleepover. She insists I need silly touches like that in my life.

The living room feels like a hurricane. My little cousins are buried in piles of presents, shrieking with pure joy over new toys as their parents scramble to keep the mess contained.

I catch sight of Evelyn scrolling through her phone, completely ignoring me or at least pretending to.

The last time we talked, we didn’t exactly resolve anything.

I can tell she’s still upset about how things ended that night, but neither of us seems ready to face the elephant in the room.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” my mom says from the kitchen doorway, tray of cinnamon rolls in hand. “Coffee’s ready if you need it.”

“Need is an understatement.” I make a beeline for the coffee pot.

Tía Mary is already perched on the couch in her usual holiday getup, sipping her tea like it’s a prop, not a drink. I brace myself, knowing the inevitable is coming. But not yet. I’m not letting her ruin my peaceful day.

I lean against the counter, my coffee in hand, surveying the living room.

Dad’s trying to assemble a new train set for the kids with laser focus, looking like he’s about to burst a blood vessel from the instructions.

Mom’s already busy with dinner, while Evelyn and Victoria are glued to their phones, laughing over some inside joke that I’m obviously not a part of.

“Honey!” my mom calls from the kitchen.

She doesn’t give me a chance to answer before swapping my coffee for hot chocolate, and giving me a kiss on the forehead. “ Feliz Navidad, hija .” She says.

“ Feliz Navidad ,” I smile at her and squeeze her arm a bit before she goes back to yelling at my cousins to get out of the kitchen.

Desperate for some quiet, I slip outside to the backyard. The cold air nips at my cheeks as I wrap my hands around a mug of hot chocolate, feeling the heat of the ceramic seep into my cold fingers.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a message from Jared.

Jared: merry christmas

I rest the mug on the glass table as my fingers fly over the keys. In a split moment, I catch my reflection on the screen, grinning so wide I look terrifying.

Me: merry christmas to you too. how’s your day so far?

Jared: ma made pho and egg rolls.

Jared: serena and tyler snuck out for an hour. twins are hyped about the barbie dream house i got them.

I can practically picture him rolling his eyes as he types.

Me: that sounds nice!

Me: love how you just casually ignored the fact that ser and tyler disappeared

Jared: strategic ignorance. i don’t want to know what they’re doing.

Me: fair point.

Me: barbie dream house, though? didn’t peg you as a guy who knows his dolls.

Jared: know your enemy. i’ve stepped on three barbie shoes, and i’m pretty sure one is embedded in my foot.

Me: RIP to your foot. at least you’re not stuck untangling doll hair.

There’s a pause before he responds, and when he does, his message feels almost too real.

Jared: honestly, it’s been nice. you know, no big blow ups so far. it’s weird like… almost like i’m in a dream.

My mind races as I scramble to find the right words to say back.

Me: weird doesn’t have to be bad. maybe you just deserve a good day :)

Jared: yeah? you think so?

I bite my lip, the knot in my chest tightening. It’s a mix of nerves and something else—something I can’t quite name, but it makes my skin buzz and my heart race.

Me: definitely.

Jared: if your family brings the drama later, you can text me.

Me: deal. but only if you promise to do the same.

Jared: scout’s honor.

Me: you weren’t even a boy scout.

Jared: potato, potato.

I roll my eyes as I tuck my phone back in my pocket, a breath of relief escaping me. Amidst all the noise and chaos around me, it’s this quiet thread of connection, shared between just the two of us, that makes this Christmas feel like it’s been stitched together just right.

Everyone’s fighting the bloating after dinner while the kids unwrap their remaining presents, shrieks loud and clear, and the adults are half gathered in the living room, sipping wine and eggnog.

I sit cross-legged on the floor, zoning out as I scroll through my phone.

Then, like clockwork, Tía Mary swoops in.

She sits down in the chair across from me with a calculated grace, every perfectly manicured nail in place, a smile already forming. “So, Allison,” she starts in that sweet, too casual tone, “how’s cheer going?”

I look up, forcing my smile to stay in place. “I’m not cheering anymore. I’m focusing on school.”

Her brows lift, barely an inch, as if her radar just detected something. “Oh? That’s a shame. You were always so good at it, sobrina . It gave you… direction.”

“I’ve got plenty of direction,” I retort, picking up my water glass, trying to shake off the irritation. “Priorities change. That’s life.”

She hums, obviously unconvinced, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Balance is important, Allison. Cheer seemed like a good way to keep you active, to keep you disciplined.”

“Thanks for the advice,” I say coolly. “But I’m really happy with my choices.”

The slightest trace of a smile shows in Tía Mary’s lips, mocking and just enough to keep the pressure rising. “As long as you’re happy. Just don’t forget to think ahead. You wouldn’t want to regret missing out on… opportunities.”

It’s my turn to tighten my smile, barely masking the anger rising. My fingers grip the edge of the table, and for a second, I glance toward the door. “Opportunities are what I’m making for myself, Tía . I’m not worried about regret.”

Her eyes sharpen. “I just want you to think ahead, Allison. You need the right person to help you along, someone strong-headed.” Her eyes flick to the side, where I can see Evelyn is pretending not to notice the tension building. She coughs dramatically, ripping my focus away from her mom.

“Wow, these tamales are amazing this year, don’t you think, mami ?” she chirps, tapping her fork like it’s her personal Batman signal.

Tía Mary takes the bait, but it’s short lived. Then, like a predator refocusing on its target, she circles back.

“Speaking of opportunities,” she says smoothly. “What happened to that boy you brought home for Thanksgiving? Broke up already?”

“We’re just taking some time apart,” I say, trying to sound casual, taking another sip of water.

Her smile widens. “Ah. Well, don’t wait too long. You have so much going for you, such a pretty face. You wouldn’t want to let your best years slip away.”

It’s too much. The words are like matches to the dry brush of my patience.

I don’t even realize how sharp my words are until they slip out: “I’m doing fine, Tía .”

She narrows her eyes, still smirking. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Allison. You wouldn’t want to risk the smart choices you could make because of… a boy.”

“I know what’s best for me,” I snap, my voice sharper now, the tension in my body impossible to hide.

Evelyn fidgets beside me, her eyes widening slightly. “Alli, come on,” she hisses, nervously trying to rein me in. “Just… drop it—”

But I’m beyond calm now. I’m furious.

“And what ? Let her be? Is that what I’m supposed to do, Evie? Smile and nod and let her dissect my life every time we meet? God forbid I call her out for treating me like I don’t know what I’m doing."

“Not the right time,” Evelyn whispers, glancing helplessly between her mom and me, clearly wanting me to shut up. “She’s just trying to give advice.”

“Advice?” I bite back, the bitterness rushing like wildfire. “It’s her version of advice, Evie. Where I’m supposed to be by now, what I should be doing, who I should be seeing, with her blessing. It’s… it’s her controlling me under the guise of ‘love.’”

I feel the eyes of the room on us, though no one’s making it obvious.

People shift in their seats, pretending to be busy, but I know their attention is focused on us like a spotlight.

The room stirs so quietly that you could hear a pin drop.

Evelyn’s face tightens, trying to keep it together, but the discomfort is written all over her face.

With a quick glance, Tía Mary’s smile remains unchanged, smooth and effortless, as if nothing’s wrong. But the sharpness in her tone pierces through, leaving a sting. “I just want what’s best for you, Allison.”

“Well, you’ve done your part,” I shoot back coldly, throwing my napkin to the side.

Ignoring the stunned silence around me, I march toward the door.

“Don’t, Alli. You can’t—” Evelyn’s strained voice cuts through the space.

“I’m done,” I hiss, stopping and spinning to face her, my chest tight with rage and sorrow. “She’s your mom, and you can let her tear you apart if you want, Evie. I’m not letting her do it to me anymore."

Before anyone can stop me, I grab my bag that hangs by the door, and I’m out, heading straight for my car. The golden streetlights shine down on me, but they do nothing to cool the storm brewing.