Page 51 of Heartstruck

Jared

Alli leans her head against the window, her breath ghosting over the glass with each slow exhale, matching the rhythm of the tires against the pavement.

Her fingers trace invisible shapes on her bouncing knee, absent and unhurried, like she’s chasing a thought she won’t say out loud.

She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t say anything, but somehow, it doesn’t feel like silence at all.

“It’s not like I’m cutting them off completely.” She speaks as she turns to face me. “Just… setting boundaries.”

I glance over, catching the hardness tucked behind her words. “And boundaries with them feel like betrayal?”

She laughs, but it’s hollow. “Yeah, I guess.”

I shift in my seat, the passing streetlights casting fleeting shadows across her face.

I forget how to breathe.

She looks smaller, more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her. And it messes with me.

“Boundaries aren’t betrayal, Alli,” I say, watching her closely. “They’re just a reminder that you’re a person, too, and not just someone people dump their opinions on.”

Her eyes meet mine, and the air thickens. The wall she holds up so tightly isn’t gone, but there’s a crack. Maybe it’s trust, maybe it’s just the moment. I can’t tell. But it’s there.

We pull into her driveway, the house looming ahead in the dim light. I kill the engine but don’t move. The world feels louder with the engine off, but all I can hear is the rapid thumping of my heart, racing to match the vibe hanging between us.

“You didn’t have to drive me home,” she says, like it’s an excuse she’s trying to make. “I would’ve been fine.”

“Your knee’s shaking like a damn earthquake.”

“I’m not that nervous,” she mumbles, but her body betrays her, the slightest quiver giving her away.

“Yeah, okay.” I chuckle, leaning back in my seat. “I don’t mind driving you home after what happened.”

She shifts in her seat, looking away. “You can’t just Uber home on Christmas night. It could take you hours to find a ride.”

“The hell I can’t.” I’d rather be here with her than anywhere else. “Besides, I needed to make sure you got home safe.”

A tiny breath escapes her lips before she gives a quiet nod. “Guess I can’t argue with you.”

“Want me to walk you to the door?” I try to keep casual, but my pulse betrays me.

“Uh…” Her smile falters long enough to make me think she might turn me down, but then she slowly nods. “Okay.”

I peel my jacket off, draping it over her shoulders before she can reject it. “You’re freezing.”

She glances up at me, her eyes on me for what felt like an eternity, before pulling it tighter around her. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” I get out and jog around to her side, opening the door for her. She’s still shivering a little, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold air.

We walk together, the silence stretching out between us. As we reach the porch, the tension pulls tight, the silence strangles me, and I know I can’t let it sit there any longer.

“Can we talk? About us?”

She stops mid-step, her shoulders stiffening for a split second before she spins to face me. “Us?”

“Yeah, us.”

“Do we need to? I think everything’s been said already.”

It’s too much. My breath catches as I close the distance, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t think about it; I don’t give myself a chance to second-guess. Two strides, and I’m right there, facing her.

“No, it hasn’t been said yet. Not everything.” I say, my voice rougher than I mean it to be, but it’s true, every bit of it.

She looks at me, her eyes flicking down and then back up, her face like an unread book piercing through me.

“You walked away, Alli. For good reason. I messed up. But… I’m giving you space. And yet, every time you pull me back in, it’s like we’re both pretending this”—I gesture between us—“doesn’t exist. But we both know it does.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” her voice cracks.

“I’m scared as hell to want you, but here I am, wanting you anyway.

” She clears her throat and exhales, bolting her feet to the ground before she admits what she’s been avoiding.

“I’ve loved you for years. But if this doesn’t work…

if we break again, I don’t think I could survive it. ”

I watch as her hands ball into fists, her shoulders tight, like she’s preparing for the worst. And damn, it hits me harder than I expect.

I find myself choking on my words. “What do you mean, years ?”

She licks her lips as I await the confession. “I’ve known you since we were kids. You used to trade your chocolate pudding for my Doritos in fifth grade…” She smiles briefly at the memory. “That time at field day when you face-planted during tug of war.”

Her smile doesn’t fade as she looks back at me. “You’ve always been there, but then… puberty happened. And one day, you stopped being the goofy friend I traded snacks with. You became someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

I open my mouth, but the words don’t come out right away.

“When did you start liking me?”

“The summer after sophomore year. I didn’t know what I was feeling then… but that weekend… when we went camping? When we spent the night on the beach?” She takes a breath, evidently doubting where this will take her. Us. “That was when everything changed.”

I’m sure she can, too, feel my heart in my throat. “And we slept together.”

“Yeah.”

She shivers faintly, and I rub my hands up and down her arms, then refuse to step back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her quiet laugh is hollow. “And say what, Jared? That I’ve been in love with you for years?

What would you have done with that, huh?

” She shakes her head, eyes brimming with years of hurt.

“You were always busy with football, and everyone started to see you as more than just a friend. God, you couldn’t have looked at me the way I looked at you if someone had paid you. ”

“That’s not true,” I cut in, the words biting me more than I’d like to admit.

“Oh, come on.” She meets my gaze with a fire I haven’t seen in a while. “You were oblivious. Maybe it wasn’t your fault, but it was enough to keep me quiet. The idea of putting it out there, just to get crushed? I couldn’t do it. So I didn’t.”

“Alli, I didn’t know. I swear, if I’d—”

“Don’t.” She cuts me off, her eyes glistening as she exhales sharply. “Don’t talk about what you would’ve done. You can’t rewrite the past, Jared. This is now. And now… it’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it.” I say, nearly snarling, and I stand still. I’m so close, yet the space feels wide, impossible. “I messed up. You needed space, and I gave you that. But nothing about us has gotten easier without you.”

She swallows hard, and the tremble in her chin almost rips me to shreds. “Jared, I’m scared,” her voice wavers. “I can’t lose you again. Not after knowing what it’s like being with you. I lost you for years, and I can’t go through that again.”

“Then I’ll hold it together. I’ll make it work. Alli, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Her gaze dips, her next words hesitant, as if letting them go is another kind of surrender. “I spent so long trying to control everything, and then you happened. And all I wanted was to let go. You don’t understand…”

“I understand more than you think.” I close the distance until the only thing separating us is our clothes.

“I’m not the same guy you fell for years ago.

And maybe that’s a good thing because that guy didn’t deserve you.

But this version of me? The one who finally gets it?

I’d fight for you, Alli. Every single time. ”

I can’t hold it back anymore.

My hands find her waist.

My fingers dig into the soft fabric of my jacket.

When my lips meet hers, it’s like kissing fire—flames that melt away the cold and all my doubts.

She freezes, just for an instant, but then she kisses me back, her fingers clutching at my sweatshirt, desperate, like she’s been starving for me just as much as I’ve been for her.

“Alli?” A distinct voice calls out.

We jump apart like teenagers caught sneaking around, her hands still caught in the fabric of my sweatshirt, mine hovering near her waist. My eyes snap toward the door, the light flooding in, and I realize her aunt is standing there, arms crossed, flanked by a handful of wide-eyed relatives craning their necks to get a better look.

“Alli.” Her aunt’s tone is stern, carrying the responsibility of a drill sergeant. “Are you seriously making a scene like this? Haven’t you caused enough tonight?”

The tension that dissolved in Alli during our kiss snaps right back into place; her spine tenses up. But she doesn’t move away from me. Instead, her fingers curl tighter into me like I’m her lifeline.

“I haven’t caused anything. I don’t owe anyone an explanation for standing outside my house.” Her voice is firm, cutting through the air with clarity, her breath puffing out in the cold.

Her aunt’s gaze darts to me, then back to her. “What did I say about your future? You don’t want to spend it with someone like him.”

Someone like him.

My jaw clenches, every protective instinct in me roaring to the surface. Before I can say anything, Alli steps in front of me, blocking the icy glare being thrown my way.

“Yes, with him. With my boyfriend.” She pronounces every syllable.

“And if anyone has a problem with that, they can deal with it. I’m done letting you try to control my life and ram your unsolicited opinions onto me.

You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, especially not when it comes to who I date. ”

Tía Mary’s jaw tightens, but before she can protest, Alli presses forward.

“This isn’t your call. It’s mine. It’s my life. So, if you don’t like it, I’m sorry, but that’s not my problem anymore.”

The silence that follows feels charged, her words reverberating in the freezing air.

“Allison,” someone else tries to speak, but she doesn’t even turn to look at them. She just takes my hand, threading her fingers through mine with a deliberate finality that sends a jolt straight to my chest.

“I’m spending the night at Serena’s,” she announces, pulling me away with a determination that leaves no room for argument. Her family gapes after us, stunned into silence for the first time all night.

Through the crowd, we spot Alli’s mom giving a subtle nod—an approval that’s as silent as it is clear, telling Alli it’s okay to stand up for herself. We don’t look back, leaving her relatives jammed in disbelief.

We reach her car, and she finally stops, leaning against the passenger door as her hand slowly lets go of mine. Her face tilts up to mine, all the fire and fight from moments ago shifting into something unguarded.

“I’m sorry about that…”

“You don’t have to apologize,” I say, my hands finding her hips like it’s second nature. “Not for standing your ground. Not for us.”

Her lips twitch on the verge of a smile. “This is not exactly how I pictured tonight going.”

“You mean this wasn’t on your family’s fun holiday agenda?” I tease gently, earning the smallest of laughs.

She shakes her head, exhaling in a way that looks like it might be relief. Then her eyes meet mine again, and the tension that had been broken by her aunt’s interruption suddenly floods back, heavier than before.

“I meant what I said back there,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the cold wind.

“So did I,” I say without hesitation. “I won’t lose you again, Alli. Not for anyone.”

“You’ve got that look again,” she whispers, her breath fogging between us.

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re going to kiss me.”

I don’t think twice.

My hand slips into her hair, tugging her closer, and I kiss her like the world doesn’t exist beyond us. She meets me halfway, rising up on her toes, her hands gripping me against her like she’s holding on for dear life. And I can feel it—she’s not pulling away. She’s here with me.

There’s nothing careful about it. No tiptoeing around feelings or consequences. Just us, all fire and need, like every word spoken tonight lit a fuse we both knew was going to explode.